Owned By My Father

Kimo, Israel, Don, and Colonel Sweet spent the rest of the afternoon installing the IR detection grid around the house. When Colonel Sweet checked on his inquiry after dinner, he asked Kimo, Israel, Don, and myself to join him in the office where he laid a photo on the desk.

"That's an autopsy photo of Kenny Fong," Colonel Sweet explained as we all looked at the photo of the naked man laying on his back, most of his head and face gone, but the full-body, vivid-color tattoos covering his torso were mostly visible, including the one over his heart that I now knew represented the Hong Triad.

"From the little information I was able to glean, it seems that Kenny Fong was the front man for the Hong Triad in Shanghai and that they were trying to rip your father off in a deal, only he figured it out and turned the tables on them, taking them to the cleaners for $2-$3 billion in the process. The reason Kenny Fong was sweating bullets while his wife was sucking your father's cock and his daughter was sucking yours is because he already knew that he was a dead man. Whether they jumped or were thrown, the results were the same," he said, tapping the photo with a finger. "That might explain the helicopter explosion that killed your father. You told me that they were unable to come to any conclusion as to what exactly happened."

"Makes sense," Kimo said, his face impassive.

"But why are they trying to kill me?" I asked. "I didn't do anything."

"You were at the meeting with your father and the Fongs," Colonel Sweet replied. "They can't let a $2-$3 billion loss go unavenged. As far as they're concerned, you're just as culpable as your father."

"So what do we do?" I asked.

"Wait," Colonel Sweet replied, Kimo nodding. "No matter where you go, they're going to find you. I'd rather they have to come here. This place is reasonably defensible, whereas in Singapore it would be much more difficult. The logistics to get to you here are also far more difficult, which means that they'll be limited as to what sort of force they can bring to bear. They'll most likely send a 4-6 man team."

"We should have everyone sleep downstairs in the typhoon emergency shelter," Kimo suggested.

"Good idea," Colonel Sweet agreed. "They'll probably be here tomorrow night or the next night. They're not the type to wait. They are fanatics."

"We were all in Afghanistan," Kimo said. "We understand fanatics."

"Let's try not to upset the ladies," Colonel Sweet suggested. "The fewer details for them, the better."

"How would you like us deployed, Colonel?" Kimo asked.

"Two on the beach approach, one for the road, and I'll rove," Colonel Sweet replied, accepting the responsibility. "When it goes down, be smart, but don't leave any of the attackers alive."

It was one of the strangest evenings of my life, waiting to be attacked by a Chinese assassination squad. Even though Svetlana, Sheila, and Yoko weren't apprised of the details of what had happened and was going on, they picked up on the vibes and it made for a somber mood. I didn't like being sent to the emergency shelter with the women for the night, but Colonel Sweet wasn't interested in how I felt.

Even though Colonel Sweet wasn't as concerned about a daylight attack, he insisted on accompanying Suzi and I when we went for a walk down Tunnels Beach, wearing a windbreaker jacket that hid the Glock tucked into his waistband, patiently waiting on the beach while we went for a swim. I'd never experienced a subdued Suzi and it saddened me, knowing that it was because of me, whether I was responsible or not.

I was struck by the easy camaraderie between Colonel Sweet and Kimo, Israel, and Don, understanding that they had a common experience that was beyond me. Once again, we went down into the emergency shelter after dinner, Suzi curling up in my arms as we fell asleep, only to be awakened at some point by a series of loud staccato cracks, followed by a blam-blam, blam-blam, then silence.

"You can come out now," Kimo said when he appeared, an M16 slung over his shoulder.

Exiting the emergency shelter, we saw that all of the house lights were on, inside and out, and that Israel and Don were standing over four black heaps on the ground between the pool and the beach.

"There's two more at the top of the stairs," Colonel Sweet said when he approached, a pistol in hand, indicating with a toss of his head that he meant the stairs leading up to what was notionally my bedroom.

The girls were all wide-eyed with shock as they huddled together.

"You should all go up to the apartment above the garage," Kimo suggested. "You'll be safe there," he added, nodding his head at Israel who accompanied them.

"Hong Triad," Colonel Sweet said as he ripped the shirt open on one of the dead bodies.

"What now?" Kimo asked.

"Call the authorities," Colonel Sweet replied. "I need to get to Hong Kong as quickly as possible."

"Why?" I asked.

"To make sure that this never happens again," Colonel Sweet replied grimly.

The police arrived, then more police once they saw what they were dealing with. Colonel Sweet and Kimo had a forceful conversation with the police, convincing them that it was important to put a lid on what had happened for as long as possible so that Colonel Sweet could go to Hong Kong and deal with the problem before the triad was aware of what had happened, reminding them that this might explain the helicopter explosion that had killed Bruce. It was only after Suzi called Singapore and put the head policeman on the phone with the Singapore police that he relented.

"Kimo, I'm leaving them with you," Colonel Sweet said as he prepared to depart, the police giving him a ride to the airport where he would take the 757 to Hong Kong, having already made several calls.

"You worry about what you're going to do," Kimo said. "We got this, Colonel."

"I know you do," Colonel Sweet said, exchanging handshakes with Kimo, Israel, and Don.

"What should we do?" I asked.

"Nothing," Colonel Sweet replied, actually smiling. "For the time being, you're out of danger. Just do whatever Kimo asks of you. I'll see you in Singapore."

"How will we know when to come back?" I asked.

"You'll know," Colonel Sweet replied enigmatically.

The next few days were very stressful anyway, though I did renew my acquaintance with Svetlana, Sheila, and Yoko, though the carefree, freewheeling fun of the days of yore was missing. Finally we saw on television the news of a triad gang war in Hong Kong where 18 triad soldiers of the Hong Triad were found slaughtered in their headquarters, though none of the neighbors reported hearing a thing.

Suzi arranged another charter, this time a Gulfstream G550, and Kimo took us to the airport the next day.

"Kimo, I've transferred $3 million to the house account," I told him before boarding the jet. "That's my thanks to you and your friends."

"They'll appreciate that," Kimo said, clearly overcome. "As do I."

"Ten times as much wouldn't be enough," I said, hugging him. "You and your friends saved our lives."

"Your Colonel Sweet is quite a piece of work," he said, smiling. "I'd go back into the service to serve next to a man like him. Both of the guys he shot outside of your room on the stairs took one in the throat and one in the forehead. That guy's the real deal. I hope he'll tell me the details of what happened in Hong Kong one of these days."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It's been ten years now and the 1,000^th Our Future school has just opened in the United States. Local school districts and some states have given the Our Future foundation tremendous tax breaks and assistance, while others complain of the drain of their best teachers to the Our Future system because of our higher standards and concomitant pay. We will continue to lead by example and hope that the rest catch on and realize that there is no better investment than in the education of the next generation. The Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation and their network of donors match my donations dollar for dollar, allowing me to remain anonymous while they manage the whole thing. As much as I give, averaging $10 billion a year, my fortune continues to grow. Suzi, the love of my life, Penny, Erin, and Juanita are my steadfast family and lovers, while Colonel Sweet is my best friend and protector. Each year we go to Kauai a couple of times for a month where Svetlana, Sheila, and Yoko are still living with Kimo. I now know deep in my bones that I am no longer owned by my father. The ghosts have all been laid to rest.