Bách shuddered. It had been thirty years since he last saw General X. The intelligence chief—a man whose real name was unknown and whom few had ever met, known only as General X—had summoned ten members of Bách’s team to his office and given them these instructions:

"You have been specially selected by the State to cross the border and go abroad. Bear in mind that from this moment on, you will lead a new life, completely severing ties with your past. You are to remain dormant, making no contact until you are awakened—it could be twenty, thirty, or even more years. But that day will come, and I am certain you will fulfill the mission entrusted to you!"

General X looked each man in the eye. Though small in stature, his gaze was cold and sharp as a serpent’s, piercing deep into the soul and making everyone shudder with fear. Bách could never forget the chilling sensation of General X’s stare—not even thirty years later.

He had crossed the border aboard an intelligence agency vessel disguised as a fishing boat, departing from Hải Phòng and blending in with boats carrying ethnic Chinese residents of the North who were seeking a way out of Việtnam to Hồng Kông. The Communist government was attempting to expel this ethnic Chinese population—families who had lived in Vietnam for generations—just as the Sino-Vietnamese border conflict was intensifying; these ethnic Chinese groups were fleeing to seek asylum, much like the many South Vietnamese who had fled the country after April 30, 1975.

The intelligence agency, led by General X, had devised a plan to embed operatives among the refugees to conduct overseas intelligence activities. A large number of agents from the South infiltrated the refugee boats, assigned to carry out short-term operations in nearby regions. However, General X’s most cherished initiative was a long-term strategy: selecting the brightest and most astute young operatives from the Intelligence Agency to embed themselves within Vietnamese refugee communities worldwide. These agents might remain dormant for ten, twenty, or even more years before being activated. Certain exceptional operatives—those who achieved great success, wealth, or prestige within these communities—were monitored by the Agency’s Overseas Operations Division and kept dormant for up to thirty years before being called upon to serve General X.

The ten individuals who accompanied Bách on the escape voyage from Hai Phong were among General X’s finest young intelligence operatives. Carefully selected and thoroughly trained, the group was expected to achieve significant success and influence within Vietnamese communities globally; they were slated for activation at the thirty-year mark of General X’s master plan, tasked with subverting and controlling refugee populations in cities with the highest concentrations of Vietnamese expatriates.

Bách was the final operative in Orange County to be activated after that precise thirty-year interval. His activities were closely monitored, and detailed, accurate reports regarding his earnings and assets were regularly submitted to the Intelligence Agency. The decision to activate him was finally approved by General X once Bách had secured a place in the VIP leadership circle of the VSC—an association comprising Orange County’s wealthiest and most successful individuals. This move was particularly urgent following the arrest and execution of Đỗ Gia Thủ for corruption; General X—who had ordered Thủ’s elimination after a secret high-level summit in Chapa—needed to determine the fate of the more than $100 million that Th-ủ’s faction had invested in the United States.

Chapter 21

Bằng slid a razor blade into the lock mechanism and applied gentle, calculated pressure. A click sounded; he turned the knob, and the door swung wide. Bằng smiled with satisfaction. He had mastered the art of lock-picking and gained renown during his training with the Intelligence Agency in Lạng Sơn. Beyond his ability to crack any lock—no matter how sophisticated or intricate—Bằng had also topped his class in marksmanship. He could hit a target without even looking and never missed. He had been selected for the Agency’s assassination unit—an elite group of the finest operatives, handpicked by General X himself—a distinction that was a source of immense pride for the chosen few.

Two days earlier, he had received orders to meet Bách, the owner of the Bách Việt insurance company. Bằng was informed that Bách was a "sleeper asset"—an agent reactivated after thirty years of lying dormant within the Vietnamese refugee community in Orange County. He was placed under Bách’s command to execute whatever tasks were required for General X’s plans. Bằng was delighted. He had grown weary of life in Orange County over the past two years—ever since the Agency’s Overseas Operations Division had sent him to the U.S. to operate in the area.

 To make matters worse, he had been forced to play the role of the third husband to Liên, a woman notorious in the local Vietnamese community for her string of three husbands. Bằng knew this assignment was an act of spite by Hiệu—an incompetent man who had always trailed behind Bằng during their Agency training but had risen to become head of the Overseas Operations Division solely due to his powerful connections. Hiệu had always envied Bằng, constantly seeking ways to disparage and torment him. Worst of all, he had been ordered to continue playing the role of Liên’s third husband, despite having repeatedly asked the Intelligence Agency for different assignments and a change of operational location—anywhere but Orange County.

Bằng met Bách at a small, secluded restaurant with few patrons. Bách said:

"Working in Liên’s accounting office is very convenient for you. I need you to investigate Quang’s law firm, which is in the same building where you work. I want every detail regarding his joint investments with Tuyến and Lệ. But above all, you must be discreet; don't let it slip that we are watching or investigating him."

Bằng smiled:

"Sir, covert investigations—keeping the target in the dark—are my specialty. Don't worry; I’ll handle everything perfectly."

Bách looked at Bằng intently:

"I’ve heard a lot about you—that you graduated at the top of the Agency’s 46th class. You’re clearly talented; why doesn't the Agency use you for other things?"

Bằng knew Bách was alluding to his life with Liên—how he had become a laughingstock for playing the role of her third husband. Bách was well aware that the assignments of agents like Bằng were dictated entirely by the Intelligence Agency.

Bằng shook his head:

"You’ve lived in the U.S. for thirty years and haven't been in contact with the Agency, so you aren't aware of the current changes. I can't say much more. But if you ever have the chance to contact General X directly, please ask him to reassign me to a different mission—or transfer me to a place like Houston, for instance!"

Bách nodded:

"Get this job done for me, and I’ll help you with that!"

° ° °

Bằng held a pen with a small light attached to the tip and shone it toward Quang’s law office. It was well past midnight, and the building was deserted, yet Bằng carefully navigated his way to Quang’s desk using only a tiny penlight. Having disabled the building’s alarm system, he had no fear of a surprise visit from security and plenty of time to thoroughly examine the stacks of files related to Tuyến’s investment company. Since Quang had previously submitted these documents to Liên’s accounting office for verification, Bằng knew exactly which files were critical and which were superfluous.

He used a specialized pen equipped with a built-in camera to photograph every document concerning Tuyến’s investment firm and Tài’s Thiên Long Investment Company. Files regarding the shell company based in the Cayman Islands were also in the stack, and Bằng captured images of them all. Quang had meticulously recorded details regarding the bankruptcy filings and the distribution of the investment—totaling over a hundred million US dollars—among Tuyến, Quang, and Tài; he had even documented the specific dates and details of wire transfers to their respective accounts. Bằng smiled. He hadn't expected things to go so smoothly. Quang detested using computers and kept everything in hard copy—black ink on white paper—which made Bằng’s task remarkably simple. Even if Quang had stored the files digitally, Bằng would have found a way to access them. It would have taken a bit more effort to crack the passwords, but Bằng had acquired the skills to handle such tasks, no matter how complex.

° ° °

The next day, Bằng met Bách again at the same restaurant. He handed over all the photos he had taken of Quang’s files. Bằng said:

"I’ve gone through everything carefully. The investment funds from Đỗ Gia Thủ are entirely controlled by that trio—Tuyến, Quang, and Tài. They’re cunning, too. I don’t know much about Tuyến and Tài, but Quang’s share has already been distributed across various accounts at multiple banks throughout. He also invested in various assets: real estate, stocks, and bonds. Many of the accounts weren't in his name but in the names of his relatives. I don't think we can recover that money."

Bach mused:

"Those guys are cunning old foxes. Once the money is in their hands, it’s hard to get back. But the Department will make the final call on this. I’ll report your excellent work to headquarters. I’ll let you know if there are any new directives."

Chapter 22

A meeting involving the four men—Bách, Tuyến, Quang, and Tài—was held at the Intercontinental Hotel. Bách had called Hà nội to report to the Intelligence Department on the activities of the three men holding the investment funds belonging to the Đỗ Gia Thủ group in Orange County. He detailed the difficulties involved in recovering the sum—exceeding one hundred million US dollars—that had been split among Tuyến, Quang, and Tài. According to documents photographed by Bằng inside Quang’s law office, the funds had already been fully dispersed; Bách sought instructions from General X on how to handle the trio.

The response came directly from General X, bypassing the usual Overseas Operations division. General X’s order was a death sentence for all three men. This was intended to serve as an example to others holding the vast sums Hà nội had deployed for investment in foreign markets, particularly the United States. Đỗ Gia Thủ had amassed a fortune of over one hundred million dollars through corruption to invest in the US, but that money ultimately belonged to the state. Đỗ Gia Thủ had already been executed, and those who had seized the opportunity to misappropriate these funds had to pay the price as well. General X ordered Bách to mobilize the assassination squad stationed in Orange County to carry out the decision. And Bằng was the very man leading that squad.

Bách pondered the order to kill Tuyến, Quang, and Tài at length. He felt no pity for the three men; daring to defraud the state and embezzle such a massive sum meant they deserved to die. Yet, the failure to recover that hundred million dollars was a regrettable loss. Bách had lived in the United States for thirty years and had absorbed the local philosophy of life: make as much money as possible, without regard for distinctions between capitalism and communism, or between state funds and personal wealth. Why shouldn't he seize this opportunity to make some money for himself?

Bách knew that almost all high-ranking figures in Vietnam were just like Đỗ Gia Thủ: they had amassed enormous fortunes for themselves or their families and had funneled that money into overseas investments. Đỗ Gia Thủ was merely one of the senior officials who had moved capital to the U.S., only to be made a scapegoat for the anti-corruption drive that was gaining massive momentum back home. Yet, other powerful figures with investments in the U.S. lived in fear of suffering the same fate as Đỗ Gia Thủ—specifically, being swindled and having their entire overseas holdings stolen by the very confidants entrusted to manage them, should something go wrong. This was precisely what had happened with the trio—Tuyến, Quang, and Tài—who had conspired to pocket the more than one hundred million dollars belonging to Đỗ Gia Thủ.

Bách was not surprised by the order to assassinate the three men. General X, like other top-ranking officials, had investments in the United States. They wanted to send a clear message to the people holding their money abroad: do not try any tricks or engage in fraud, or you will pay with your life. Bách, of course, had to carry out General X’s order. But how could he turn the situation to his own advantage while executing the command?

° ° °

Bách called each of their offices. He left messages stating that he needed to meet all three of them at the Intercontinental Hotel to discuss the Đỗ Gia Thủ matter. Bách was certain that the mere mention of Đỗ Gia Thủ’s name would compel Tuyến, Quang, and Tài to show up immediately. And sure enough, they did.

Bách had made copies of the documents Bằng had photographed at Quang’s office and handed a set to each man. The faces of Tuyến, Quang, and Tài drained of color as they read through the pages, which detailed exactly how the sum exceeding one hundred million dollars had been split three ways. Bách fixed his gaze on each of them and spoke:

"We are fully aware of all your activities." Đỗ Gia Thủ was executed for corruption, and his assets were forfeited to the state. By holding onto this money, you are stealing from the people. However, if you agree to return the funds, we might show leniency and pardon you.

Tuyến looked up. Bách was pacing back and forth with his hands clasped behind his back, wearing a disdainful air—like a teacher lecturing students. Tuyến never imagined that the very man he had negotiated with to invest Đỗ Gia Thủ’s insurance payout was actually a communist sleeper agent in Orange County. He reproached himself for not investigating Bách more thoroughly before reaching out to him. But who could have suspected someone so deeply embedded?

Tuyến knew full well that pocketing Đỗ Gia Thủ’s money would eventually lead to trouble. Yet, he had hoped no one would guess that the Đỗ brothers had entrusted his company with the funds for investment. It was Đỗ Gia Thủ’s younger brother who had met him, stating that—aside from the two brothers—no one else knew about the investment entrusted to Tuyến’s firm. How had Bách found out? Bách was a Hà nội intelligence operative, but who else was out there in Orange County?

Quang glared angrily at the stack of papers seized from his office. He blamed himself for not securing the documents in a bank safe-deposit box; instead, he had left them carelessly in his desk drawer, where any intruder could easily snatch them. But the damage was done. Bách now held all the documentation regarding the investment of Đỗ Gia Thủ’s money; worse still, the details of the three-way split and asset distribution were fully exposed. How could they handle this? Quang had never been involved in illegal activities before, Tuyến was the one who had calculated everything and handled all the paperwork. Tài wondered how Tuyến would deal with the threat Bách now posed.

Tài glanced back and forth between Bách, Tuyến, and Quang. He had always respected Tuyến’s business acumen, yet he was shocked that Tuyến had been so trusting—carelessly entrusting tasks to Quang and allowing the situation to reach this critical point. Bách’s cunning demeanor made Tài suspicious; he wondered what other tricks the man might have up his sleeve. If Bách truly was an intelligence operative from Hà nội seeking to reclaim the funds taken from Đỗ Gia Thủ, Tài would be willing to pay just to put the matter to rest. But what if Bách was merely a con artist—someone who had somehow obtained Quang’s documents and was trying to extort money without any actual orders from the Hanoi intelligence agency? How would he handle that?

Tài had heard rumors about the shady business practices of Bách’s company, Bách Việt Insurance, in Orange County. It was entirely possible that Bách was simply bluffing, hoping to scare the three of them into handing over the money. But if Bách was telling the truth and Tài refused to pay, what might he do? Besides, the sum—over thirty million per person—was enormous. How could he simply hand over such a fortune? What could he do to counter a man like Bách?

Bách continued speaking, seemingly indifferent to the turmoil and racing thoughts of the three men facing him.

"We aren't asking you to pay this large sum immediately. However, within five days, each of you must wire-transfer 10 million US dollars to the following account at Credit Suisse in Switzerland. One month later, another 10 million US dollars is due. And one month after that, you must pay the remaining balance to fully cover the amount you took from Đỗ Gia Thủ." This gives you time to sell off the real estate, stocks, or bonds you invested in using other people's names. Bear in mind that we intend to recover the full amount owed by Do Gia Thu, including all accrued interest. Not a single penny can be missing!

Chapter 23

Garcia watched Vân’s figure across the street from the Long Beach School of Pharmacy; she was waiting for the light to change so she could head toward the parking lot. He clicked his tongue, wondering what a beauty like that had done to deserve Lệ hiring him to kill her. Garcia felt the pocket of his trousers. It held a thick wad of hundred-dollar bills—exactly thirty thousand US dollars. Lệ would pay the remaining thirty thousand after he took Vân out. It was a large sum, though not an extraordinary amount for Garcia; he handled tens of thousands of dollars daily in the drug trade. Yet, he had accepted Lệ’s offer because she had promised him more nights in her bed. He couldn't forget the first time he’d had the pleasure of sleeping with Lệ years ago. How could a woman as perfect as Lệ exist? He had slept with all kinds of women—local Mexican women who were crazy about him, passionate beauties from Venezuela, dreamlike blue-eyed blondes from Texas, and long-haired Chinese girls smuggled in from Fusan. He had tasted them all, but none compared to Lệ.

Garcia had been overjoyed when Lệ called him. Her request had given him a moment’s pause, but ultimately, he didn't care. To Garcia, killing was as routine as eating—a mundane act that required no second thought. He had taken at least a dozen lives in shootouts and drug-related hits. In this Los Angeles-based Mexican gang, rank and perks depended on how many rivals from competing territories one had killed. Garcia had risen to the position of second-in-command thanks to his marksmanship and skill with the knife he always kept tucked in his waistband. He toyed with the blade. He hesitated, unsure whether to take Vân out right there in the parking lot or abduct her and drive to a secluded spot before carrying out the hit ordered by Lệ.

Garcia shook his head. He still had plenty of work to do in Los Angeles; he couldn't afford to linger in Long Beach. He would wait for Vân to unlock her car and then drive by, putting a bullet in her the moment she closed the door. The silenced pistol wouldn't make a sound; Garcia would speed away as soon as she slumped dead over the steering wheel. No one would know what had happened in the gathering dusk. The murder wouldn't be discovered until campus security happened to patrol by. It was the simplest and most convenient plan. Garcia watched as Vân crossed the street and approached her Honda Accord to unlock it.

Suddenly, the cell phone sitting in the small compartment next to the gearshift rang. He cursed as he picked it up—being interrupted at a time like this. He made a mental note to turn off his phone next time he went out to commit a murder. Lệ’s voice came through on the other end:

"Call the whole thing off, Garcia!"

He was taken aback. Women were strange creatures—changing their minds at the drop of a hat.

"What? What’s going on?"

Lệ replied:

"I don't need you to kill that girl anymore! Let her off the hook this time. But I need you for something else. A man—not a woman. That way, you won't have to worry about God punishing you for killing a woman! And I'll pay a hundred thousand."

Garcia laughed:

"OK! Whatever works. But you'll have to give me the details at the hotel tonight."

That was actually for the best. Garcia had never killed a woman before. He believed that killing a man wasn't a sin, but that killing a woman would bring down God's wrath. Despite joining a gang, trafficking drugs, and killing without a second thought, Garcia still made it a point to attend church every Sunday—a lifelong habit he simply couldn't shake.

Garcia breathed a sigh of relief. It was ideal that Lệ’s target was a man who needed to be eliminated; he didn't need to ask any further questions. On top of that, the price had been raised to one hundred thousand US dollars, and he would get to sleep with Lệ that very night when she came to the hotel to give him the details on the man she wanted removed from her life.

° ° °

Lệ hadn't known about the day Tuyến went with Quang and Tài to meet Bách, but she sensed something was wrong the moment he returned. His face was dark; he didn't say a word, just sat slumped on the sofa, downing glass after glass of liquor. Lệ asked:

"Did you run into some trouble?"

Tuyến shook his head:

"It’s not just trouble. It could actually be dangerous!"

Lệ was surprised. She had never seen Tuyến afraid before. He was a stoic, tough man capable of handling anything—except, of course, his wife’s frequent infidelities. She asked again:

"Is Tài giving you a hard time? He seems like a difficult character. But the money was already settled, wasn't it?"

Tuyến shook his head. He said:

"It’s not Tài! It’s Bách! You know Bách, the guy who sells insurance, right?"

Lệ nodded. Of course, she knew Bách very well. She had slept with him twice. The first time was at the Vietnamese Social Club’s Independence Day gala. She hadn't intended to sleep with him again—once was more than enough! But just last week, while attending a party alone at a friend's house, she ran into Bách again; she got so drunk she couldn't drive, so she had to let him take her home—and ended up sleeping with him a second time.

Tuyến explained the meeting between himself, Quang, Tài, and Bách, detailing the threats Bách had made regarding the return of Đỗ Gia Thủ’s investment money. Tuyến said:

"I’m convinced he really is an intelligence agent for Hà nội! He knows everything. He even managed to photograph documents right inside Quang’s office! Quang was too careless. But even if he’d been more careful—once these Việt Cộng intelligence types set their sights on you, they’ll dig up whatever you try to hide!" He simply couldn't understand how the fact that Đỗ Gia Thủ had given him money to invest had leaked out.

Lệ’s face went pale. She realized instantly that *she* was the one who had told Bách about Đỗ Gia Thủ giving money to her and her husband. The second time she had spent the night with Bách, she had been dead drunk; she had a vague recollection of him pressing her for details about the investment. In a moment of high spirits, she had apparently boasted that their assets now totaled tens of millions of US dollars; Bách had praised her, poured her more wine, and asked about their business dealings. Perhaps, in her extreme intoxication, she had let her guard down and revealed the secret about Đỗ Gia Thủ.

Tuyến angrily slammed his glass onto the table:

"That guy Bách is demanding I pay him back in full. But I suspect he’s planning to pull a fast one on Hà nội’s intelligence network. He wants me to transfer the money to a Swiss account. The question is, will *they* leave us alone if I do?"

Lệ asked her husband:

"What do you plan to do?"

Tuyến shook his head:

"I don't know yet. I’ll discuss it with Quang and Tài. We might have to pay up just to keep things quiet. But I really don't trust Bách. He might be trying to scam us!"

Lệ said nothing more. She blamed herself for not being careful enough to prevent Bách from prying the secret about Đỗ Gia Thủ out of her. It was entirely her fault. She resolved to deal with Bách herself, regardless of what Tuyến, Quang, and Tài decided to do.

Lệ turned and headed upstairs. She entered her private study, closed the door, and called Garcia.

Chapter 24

Garcia used wire cutters to sever the alarm system's line and picked the lock on the back door. The night was pitch-black and dead silent. With a faint click, Garcia slipped into the kitchen. Lệ had told him that Bách was alone in this luxurious Laguna Beach home. Garcia cursed under his breath. A sprawling, million-dollar mansion occupied by just one person—the guy deserved to die for that alone! Lệ had paid him fifty thousand dollars upfront; he had stuffed the thick stack of cash into a pocket near his ankle for safekeeping, unwilling to leave it in the car where someone might break in.

Garcia made his way up the stairs to find the master bedroom. It was two in the morning; his target would surely be fast asleep. He hadn't yet decided whether to use a knife or a silenced pistol. He preferred a knife, but if Bách was sound asleep, a gunshot would be a quicker, cleaner way to finish the job. He told himself he would decide once he was inside the room.

The bedroom door was unlocked, standing slightly ajar as if welcoming him. Garcia felt a momentary pang of hesitation but quickly dismissed the thought; Bách was home alone, so there was no need to close the bedroom door. He peered inside. A figure lay curled on its side like a shrimp, completely covered by the blanket—even the head—and silent, without a hint of snoring. Garcia raised his gun and fired a rapid succession of shots. There were faint *thwips* as the bullets buried themselves in the bedding, yet the body didn't move. Garcia sensed something was wrong. He stepped closer.

° ° °

Bách jerked awake at a faint sound from downstairs. The soft click from the kitchen door told him immediately that an intruder had broken in. It had to be a professional; the alarm hadn't sounded, meaning the line had been cut. Bách sat up and reached for the gun hidden in his bedside drawer. Footsteps were ascending the stairs, moving toward the bedroom. He quickly arranged a few pillows into a human shape and pulled the blanket over them. Then, he left the door slightly ajar and pressed himself against the wall.

° ° °

Garcia was stunned when he pulled back the blanket and discovered only pillows, now shredded by gunfire. Before he could fully process the situation, he felt the cold muzzle of a gun pressed against his back and heard a command to drop his weapon. Garcia extended his gun-wielding arm away from his body and let the weapon fall. But the moment it clattered against the floor, he spun around violently, swinging his arm backward in a powerful arc. Struck by the blow, Bách staggered back, his own gun slipping from his grasp. He hadn't expected such lightning-fast reflexes from the intruder, but the training he had received at the Lạng Sơn intelligence academy kicked in instantly.

Bách ducked just in time to dodge a slashing knife stroke from Garcia. Unarmed against Garcia’s blade, Bách did not falter. He lashed out with a kick at Garcia’s knife hand, knocking the weapon loose, then followed up with two rapid-fire kicks to the man's chin. Garcia sprawled backward but scrambled up immediately, driving his head into Bách’s chest. The two men grappled and tumbled to the floor. Garcia clamped both hands around Bách’s throat and squeezed hard; he was much larger than Bách, and the crushing pressure began to suffocate him. But Bách drove his fingers straight into Garcia’s eyes. Blood spurted in a jet as Garcia let out a blood-curdling scream, clutching his face. Bách delivered a series of powerful blows with the heel of his hand to Garcia’s neck. The man went limp, collapsing backward and lying motionless. Bách picked up Garcia’s own silenced pistol, pressed the muzzle against the Mexican’s left chest, and fired a final, fatal shot directly into his heart. 

Bách stood up. He went into the bathroom to wipe off the blood splattered on him and change his clothes. He worked unhurriedly, pondering how to dispose of Garcia’s body. He couldn't possibly call the police to file a report and deal with the ensuing complications. Garcia had arrived by car, likely parked right in front of the house. Bách would drive the vehicle into the garage and stuff the body into the trunk. Then, he would hitch Garcia’s car to the large RV he used for camping, drive up the mountain loop, and push the vehicle over a cliff. If the police found it, they would simply assume it was a gangland hit involving Mexican cartels. Bách briefly considered calling Bằng for help but immediately dismissed the idea. He couldn't let a second person know that Garcia had sneaked in to kill him—only to be taken out by Bách first.

But there was one thing Bach had to do before dragging Garcia’s body down to the garage. He had to find out who had hired the man to kill him.
Bách rummaged through Garcia’s pockets. He pulled out a wallet and car keys. Then, from a deep pocket in Garcia’s trousers, he found exactly what he was looking for. Tucked alongside a stack of fifty thousand dollars in cash was a slip of paper bearing a mobile number—one Bách recognized instantly, having dialed it many times before. It was Lệ’s number.

° ° °

Bach had been driving the large RV—with Garcia’s car in tow—for over two hours. He was well clear of Los Angeles and had turned onto a narrow, steep mountain road. It was still pitch black, and Bach hoped that as he climbed higher, he would find a suitable spot to push the vehicle into a ravine. He fished his mobile phone out of his pocket. He had waited until this hour to call Bằng, figuring Bằng would just be waking up. Intelligence operatives were trained never to sleep late; they were up by four or five in the morning for breathing exercises and martial arts practice, no matter where they were. Bách dialed Bằng’s number. Bằng answered on the other end. Bách said:

"I want you to execute Plan 321 immediately. We can't delay any longer. All three of them. And try to get it done within a day or two at most, so they don't have time to prepare or take precautions."

Bằng replied, his voice alert, sounding like someone who had been awake for hours:

"I'll get right on it. Rest assured. Everything will be handled perfectly. I'll report back later."

Bách nodded and hung up. He liked the way Bằng answered—brief and to the point. When he issued an order, it was carried out thoroughly. In truth, the order had come down from Hà nội days ago, but he had held off, hoping the three men would transfer the money to his Swiss account. He had intended to order the Intelligence Agency’s Orange County hit squad to eliminate Tuyến, Quang, and Tài anyway, but he had hoped to pocket at least thirty million US dollars before carrying out the sentence ordered by General X. However, now that Lệ had hired Garcia to kill him, Bách could not afford to hesitate any longer. After all, if General X found out that Bách had defied orders to try and extort money from those three men, Bách himself could very well face the death penalty!

Yet, the directive from headquarters was to assassinate only the three—Tuyến, Quang, and Tài—as punishment for misappropriating funds invested by Đỗ Gia Thủ and to set an example for others in the United States handling investments for the Vietnamese communist leadership. General X’s orders made no mention of Lệ, Tuyến’s wife. Yet, it was Lệ who had hired Garcia to kill him. Bách mused that he might have to eliminate Lệ as well, to ensure his extortion attempt remained a secret.

Bách shook his head. Even though Lệ had tried to have him killed, he was still captivated by her. He had slept with her twice, but he wanted her to be entirely his. Bách had never loved anyone before, but he was genuinely infatuated with Lệ. Perhaps he was even in love with her? And now, he had to find a way to kill her! What a cruel twist of fate. Bách sighed. What was to be done?

Chapter 25

Quang stood up, stretched, and glanced at his watch. It was past seven; he had a dinner appointment with a client down in Long Beach and needed to leave immediately to make it on time. He had stayed late to handle some paperwork and only finished as dusk was settling in. His secretary had already left, so Quang locked up and headed down to the building's parking lot. He told himself that, at this hour, traffic on the 405 freeway would hopefully have eased up.

He merged onto the highway and was pleased to find the traffic light—a rarity, given that the freeway usually crawled at a snail's pace. Quang stepped on the gas. His car surged forward; the police were likely out eating or drinking at this hour, so there was little risk of a ticket. He felt a sense of satisfaction; lately, everything had been going his way. The share of Do Gia Thu’s thirty-million-plus fortune that had come his way was carefully invested in accounts with Merrill Lynch, Charles Schwab, and Fidelity. He had diversified the funds across various firms, buying stocks and bonds and investing in real estate. He calculated that, with his returns skyrocketing, he could retire early and live a life of leisure—even if he spent half a million or a million dollars a year! Life was wonderful. He was in robust health, free of ailments, had no dependents to worry about, and possessed an abundance of wealth. What more could he possibly want?

Quang smiled as he noticed an SUV—which had been trailing him since Magnolia Street—attempting to overtake him. He rarely let other cars pass him; he floored the accelerator, leaving the SUV far behind. His vehicle was an Italian sports car; a General Motors SUV stood no chance of keeping up. Yet, before his triumphant smile could fully fade, his brow furrowed. Even though he could see traffic slowing down ahead—and noticed that his lane was more congested than the SUV's—he tried to push past anyway. Quang intended to change lanes but was too late; the SUV pulled up alongside him. The SUV’s window rolled down, revealing an Asian young man—likely Vietnamese—at the wheel. As the vehicle drew level with his own, Quang was startled to see the muzzle of a gun protruding from the window. The moment his brain registered the sight, he tried to duck, but it was too late; a bullet fired from the SUV pierced through his right temple and exited the left. Quang’s car slammed into the highway barrier, flipped twice in the air, crashed onto the road, and exploded into a rolling ball of fire. The SUV sped ahead, swerved sharply across three lanes to exit the 405 freeway, and vanished into the distance.

° ° °

It was pitch dark. Bằng stepped out of the SUV parked at the foot of the hill and gauged the distance he would need to climb to reach the backyard of Tuyến and Lệ’s home. *It won't be difficult,* he told himself. The fence enclosing their backyard, which followed the crest of the small hill, wasn't very high; he could easily vault over it with a simple leap. At this hour, no one likely knew about Quang’s death yet. The news would only break during the evening broadcasts. Most stations would probably dismiss it as just another drive-by shooting—an all-too-common occurrence on Southern California highways. It would take a long time for the police to identify the victim; given how the car had exploded and burned, it would likely be the following day before the identity of the deceased was confirmed.

Bằng pried open the back door. The house was pitch dark, save for a sliver of light spilling from Tuyến’s study. Bằng stood on tiptoe to peer inside. He saw only Tuyến’s silhouette seated in the study’s armchair; there was no sign of Lệ. Bằng breathed a sigh of relief. He was glad Lệ wasn't home. His orders were to assassinate Quang, Tuyến, and Tài—nothing was said about their wives. Yet, had Lệ been there, he might have been forced to kill her too to silence her—something he had no desire to do. Having only Tuyến alone in the spacious house, with no one else around, was the ideal scenario for the job.

Everything became simple and swift, just like the assignments Bằng usually handled. He turned the knob and entered the study. Tuyến looked up; before he could even speak, the muzzle of Bằng’s gun spat a bullet. A single round struck Tuyến squarely in the forehead, sending him toppling backward. His eyes remained wide open, yet they registered nothing—not even the image of the killer standing before him.

° ° °

Lệ pulled her car into the driveway. She had a foreboding sense that something was wrong. Throughout the day, she had called Garcia on his mobile phone dozens of times, but he hadn't answered once. She surmised that Garcia had failed to eliminate Bách, as she had instructed him to call immediately after the deed was done. She had even called Bách’s office, only to learn that he hadn't come in to work that day. Lệ was at a loss. What had happened at Bách’s house? Who had lived, and who had died? Or had they both perished? A faint smile touched her lips. That would be the best possible outcome! But life rarely played out exactly the way one wished. 

Lệ opened the door and stepped inside. Light spilled out from Tuyến’s study through the ajar door. Lệ frowned. Tuyến always kept the door closed; he never left it cracked open like that. He was a meticulous man—everything had its place, and he never deviated from his routine. Lệ called out to Tuyến. There was no answer. She threw the study door wide open and looked inside. A scream rose in her throat, but she clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle it. Pressing herself against the wall, she fumbled in her purse for the small self-defense pistol she always carried. But there was no movement. She edged along the wall toward the main living room. There were no signs of a struggle, no sounds. Hearing the roar of an engine behind the house, she circled around to the back. At the foot of the hill, she caught a glimpse of an SUV speeding along a winding path before vanishing into the thick darkness.

Lệ went back inside. She did not return to Tuyến’s study. The image of Tuyến—leaning back in his chair with a gaping, bleeding hole in the center of his forehead—made her feel sick. Instinctively, she reached for the phone to call 911 but stopped herself. She calculated her next move quickly. Had she arrived home just half an hour earlier, the killer would surely have murdered her along with Tuyến. Calling the police would force her to step into the open, making her a target for the killer. It was best to disappear completely, leaving no trace of her whereabouts. Tomorrow, when the Mexican cleaning crew arrived and discovered Tuyến’s body, they would notify the police; Lệ decided to stay silent and go into hiding while the authorities investigated. Her priority was self-preservation and figuring out how to deal with the hit squad sent by Bách and his associates in Orange County.

Lệ got into her car and started the engine. She tried calling Quang, but there was no answer. She had no idea what had happened or whether Quang was still alive or had also been killed. She dialed Hoa’s mobile number and was surprised to hear Hoa answer. Lệ had assumed that both Hoa and Tài were already dead, but the killers hadn't reached Tài’s house yet. As soon as Hoa said "Hello," Lệ spoke urgently:

"Hoa! Listen closely! Tuyến has just been killed! I can’t get through to Quang—he’s probably dead too. The killers left my house about half an hour ago. You and Tài need to get out of the house right now. They’re likely on their way there. Go immediately! Then call me back and let me know!"

Chapter 26

Hoa put down her mobile phone, her face deathly pale. She finally managed to speak:

"Tài! Lệ just called. Tuyến has been shot dead. She arrived home and found Tuyến murdered. She said the killers are likely on their way here. We have to leave right now!"

Tài’s voice trembled:

"Lệ said we have to leave the house immediately?"

Hoa grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder. She thrust the car keys into Tài’s hand:

"Let's go! Hurry!"

The two of them rushed out the back of the house. Tài pressed the button to open the garage. As the door slowly lifted, Tài cursed under his breath—why was it opening so sluggishly? He revved the engine, and the Mercedes shot out onto the street. Tài floored the accelerator. At a turn, he nearly collided with an oncoming black SUV. He glanced in the rearview mirror; his intuition told him the SUV belonged to the killers. He was right. The stretch of road leading from the main highway to his house was short, and he could see the SUV braking hard and stopping right in front of his home!

Tài pressed harder on the gas. The Mercedes surged forward, picking up speed, and soon the highway came into view. He merged immediately into the flow of traffic. Only then did he let out a sigh of relief. He turned to Hoa:

"Try calling Lệ back."

Hoa dialed the number, but only the automated voicemail answered. Lệ must have turned off her phone and gone into hiding somewhere. Hoa asked Tài:

"Where do we go now?"

Tài remained silent. His mind was in turmoil over the news of Tuyến’s death. Quang, too, had likely been killed. He and Hoa were lucky; Lệ had arrived home early, discovered Tuyến’s body, and warned them just in time! Had they been just a few minutes slower, the assassins' SUV would have been upon them—and where could he and Hoa have possibly escaped to?

Tài thought for a moment. How should he handle this? First, he needed to find a place where the assassins couldn't track them down. They could figure out the rest later. He and Hoa couldn't go to the homes of relatives or acquaintances; he was certain the assassins had already investigated and identified those locations. Their best bet was to find a hotel far away and pay in cash to avoid leaving a trail. Then, they would plan their next move.

Tai switched highways, heading toward Riverside. He planned to stop in a small town to spend the night. Lệ had likely done the same. Tomorrow, they would reconnect to decide how to deal with this danger.

° ° °

The three of them sat in silence, looking at one another. Their breakfasts remained untouched; they simply drank cup after cup of coffee. Hoa asked Lệ with concern:

"You didn't get any sleep last night, did you?"

Lệ shook her head. Like Hoa and Tài, she had checked into a small hotel for the night. She had left at the crack of dawn, unwilling to stay any longer, and called Hoa. Hoa had given her directions to the hotel where she and Tài were staying and arranged to meet for breakfast to discuss the situation.

Tài looked at Lệ:

"You probably know the whole story by now. Hà nội's intelligence agency ordered these assassins to eliminate us. They’ve already taken out Quang and Tuyến. Now, I’m the only one left. I don't think they intend to kill you or Hoa, but there’s no way to be sure."

Lệ asked Tài:

"What do you plan to do now?"

Tài shook his head:

"I don't know yet! But we can't keep hiding forever. Eventually, they'll find us. These are professional killers; they have the resources to track us down." Unless I completely disappear off the face of the earth—go to another country and cut off all contact with everyone!

Hoa fell into deep thought for a moment before speaking:

"I don't think I can live like this. I'd rather die! The only option is a desperate gamble: to blow the whole thing wide open. Just like I did back in Las Vegas with the Mafia!"

Both Lệ and Tài knew the story of how Hoa had reported the casino Mafia to the FBI after they threatened to kill her over an unpaid debt. That risky move had worked out perfectly; the Mafia was forced to swallow their pride, wipe out her debt, and leave her alone—though they strictly forbade her from ever returning to Las Vegas or setting foot in any other casino.

Lệ nodded in agreement:

"You make a good point! We can't keep hiding forever. We need to make sure they wouldn't dare touch us again—that's the only way to find peace."

Tài remained silent. He felt Hoa was being overly optimistic. You couldn't compare the methods of Hà nội's intelligence agency to the Mafia in the U.S. What guarantee was there that those killers would back down just out of fear of a scandal or the FBI? But then Tài reconsidered. Intelligence agencies weren't so different from the Mafia, after all; they, too, had to weigh the risks and benefits. Besides, he had racked his brain all night and realized there was no other choice but to take the gamble Hoa proposed.

Lệ asked:

"What do you think, Tài? Hoa is suggesting we bring everything out into the open and make a huge scene—I think that's our only option."

Tài nodded:

"Alright. But we need to figure out the most effective way to pull it off."

Tài laid out a large sheet of paper and began jotting down the steps of the plan, just as Hoa had envisioned the night before. He silently thanked God for placing Hoa by his side during these perilous moments of his life. For Hoa’s calculations were truly brilliant—and highly likely to succeed in resolving the dire plight of these three suffering individuals!

Chapter 27

A press conference was held at the Hilton Hotel five days after Quang and Tuyến were killed. The murders were still fresh news, yet the police had no leads to pursue. Lệ had contacted the Orange County police to announce that she would attend the press conference and disclose all necessary details regarding her husband's murder. However, she was unwilling to meet the investigating officials in person just yet, fearing for her own life as the group of assassins was hunting her down.

Hoa also called an FBI agent she knew from the time she had reported a Las Vegas casino mafia group that had plotted to eliminate her years earlier. She briefly recounted the killings of Quang and Tuyến, insisting that this was a matter for FBI counter-intelligence to investigate, as Hà nội’s intelligence operatives were brazenly operating on U.S. soil and had assassinated two of her and her husband's business associates. Hoa stated that she possessed sufficient evidence to press charges and intended to expose everything at the Hilton press conference. Following the conference, she and Tài planned to go to the FBI office to provide formal statements and hand over the data and evidence she held. However, neither she nor Tài could meet the agent immediately, as they were still in hiding from the assassins. She also requested that the FBI coordinate with local police to ensure security during the press conference.

Meanwhile, Tài sought to contact the office of U.S. Representative Robert Gallagher of Orange County. He had previously contributed to the congressman's re-election campaign. Tài mentioned that he had sent a $10,000 check to Gallagher’s office and promised to organize fundraising events within the Vietnamese community for the congressman ahead of the election scheduled for six months later. He asked Congressman Gallagher to send a representative to the press conference he was organizing at the Hilton regarding Hanoi intelligence agents coming to the U.S. to assassinate businesspeople whose activities threatened their interests. Congressman Gallagher, a staunch anti-communist, heard the request from his chief of staff and called back to say he would personally attend the event.

Tà also invited the *Los Angeles Times* and the Orange County *Register*, as well as ABC, NBC, CBS, and Fox television stations, to the press conference featuring himself, Hoa, and Lệ. He announced that he would expose the secrets behind two murders and the involvement of Hà nội intelligence. Upon hearing that Congressman Gallagher would be attending, the major newspapers and TV stations promised to send reporters to cover the story and film the event.

° ° °

The press conference took place at the scheduled time. Local police and FBI agents had established tight security; only those with invitations were admitted, and everyone was searched for weapons. Tài, Hoa, and Lệ arrived at the Hilton via the back entrance and went straight to the meeting room after Hoa called an FBI contact to meet them in the parking lot. In the five days leading up to the conference, they had changed locations multiple times, staying only in small motels and paying in cash to avoid using credit cards. They relied exclusively on public payphones for all communications to ensure their trail could not be traced.

Following Hoa’s advice, Tài prepared a PowerPoint presentation to display the facts on a screen. He laid out every detail from the beginning—starting with the investment activities of the Đỗ Gia Thủ group and the pyramid schemes orchestrated by Tuyến and Quang—explaining how his own company in California was also part of this system. But the most crucial element was the video he had captured using the hidden camera disguised as a pen—secretly recording all of Bách’s threats during the meeting with him, Tuyến, and Quang, where Bách attempted to extort a share of the more than one hundred million US dollars. When the video was screened, the evidence was undeniable: Bách was an intelligence operative who had carelessly revealed Hà nội’s involvement in threatening and assassinating businesspeople like Tuyến, Quang, and Tài in Orange County, California.

° ° °

Following the press conference, Tài, Hoa, and Lệ went to the police station and subsequently the FBI office to provide formal statements. Security personnel were assigned to protect the three of them around the clock against potential assassins. However, after television stations aired the footage that evening and newspapers published reports the next day, Hoa told Tài and Lệ that Bách and his hitmen wouldn't dare touch them—not even for a million dollars. Yet, Bách vanished that very night, and the police are currently conducting an intensive manhunt to investigate the murders of Tuyến and Quang.

Meanwhile, Congressman Gallagher leveraged his influence in the House of Representatives to demand that the U.S. State Department and the Department of Justice launch a direct investigation and bring the full scope of this scandal to light. Officially, of course, Tài’s accusations were denied; yet, it was tacitly understood that if any harm befell the three of them, everyone would immediately recognize it as the work of Hà nội intelligence operating on U.S. soil—an absolute taboo that the FBI could not simply turn a blind eye to.

Tài played one more card to ensure security and hoped the Intelligence Agency would leave the three of them alone in the future. He announced that he would repatriate all the funđsĐỗ Gia Thủ had invested in the United States to Vietnam, channeling them into charitable causes such as aid for impoverished children, orphanages, and school construction. However, the funds would be disbursed to U.S. charitable organizations—with full documentation and records—and their management and oversight would be handled by a committee led by Tài, Hoa, and Lệ.

Chapter 28

A dark figure climbed over the fence and dropped into the yard. The wooden house sat atop a hill in Aspen, Colorado. With the snow gone and the ski season over, the area was deserted. Dark clouds blanketed the sky, plunging the scene into gloom; no one could see the intruder slipping toward the house. The figure tried to pry the door open, but it wasn't locked—it swung wide easily, and the stranger slid into the living room.

Suddenly, the room blazed with light as if dozens of lamps had been switched on at once. The intruder stood frozen, staring at an armchair in the corner that was slowly swiveling around; Bách sat there imposingly, his gun pointed straight ahead.

"So, you finally made it, Bằng?"

Bằng shifted slightly, but Bách spoke immediately:

"Stay still! You know I was the best shot in the Lạng Sơn 17 class. Slowly take the gun from your waistband and put it on the floor. The small one hidden against your calf, too. Then sit down—let's have a little chat."

° ° °

The scandal sparked by the press conference held by Tài, Hoa, and Lệ in Orange County had whipped up a public frenzy and severely strained diplomatic relations between the United States and Việt nam. Urged on by Congressman Gallagher, the U.S. Congress convened a hearing, inviting Tài, Hoa, and Lệ to testify about how Hà nội’s intelligence agency had brazenly sent operatives to the U.S. to assassinate businesspeople who had crossed paths with the investment interests of corrupt bigwigs within the communist government. Congressman Gallagher had personally assured Tài that a hearing before the House of Representatives would guarantee their safety more securely than ever before. No one would dare lay a finger on them. With the hearing broadcast on national television and his newfound notoriety, the intelligence agency dared not make another move against him!

Bách fled immediately that very afternoon, right after Tài, Hoa, and Lệ held their press conference. The FBI launched an intensive manhunt, placing his name and photo on their "Top 10 Most Wanted" list. Yet, Bách vanished without a trace, never surfacing or contacting a soul. Many speculated that he had escaped to Mexico that same day and secured a flight to South America to go into hiding—leaving the FBI with little hope of ever catching him. Ultimately, the FBI had to concede defeat, leaving his name on the most-wanted list in the faint hope that a reward-seeker might tip them off to his whereabouts. However, Bách was also being hunted by a far more dangerous adversary: ​​the Hà nội intelligence agency itself, which had mobilized its full force to track him down at any cost!

General X of the Intelligence Agency faced a disciplinary review and a severe reprimand. No one dared to consider dismissing him or forcing him into retirement; he held too many secrets belonging to the highest-ranking leaders. Yet, the scandal was so massive and its impact so damaging that appropriate punishment was unavoidable. While General X might escape unscathed, his subordinates had to bear the brunt of the consequences. Deputy Director Lê Hựu was fired, and three department heads were demoted and banished to the most remote regions. The entire Overseas Liaison Office was purged and staffed with new faces. However, a directive from above decreed that the person most responsible for the blunder must pay with his life. That person was Bách.

General X felt a deep sense of betrayal. Bách had been one of his most promising protégés, a man in whom he had placed great hopes. He had envisioned Bách becoming a key operative capable of rising to lead and mobilize the largest overseas Vietnamese community—located in Orange County, California. Instead, blinded by greed, Bách had violated orders, allowing Tài to capture video evidence proving he was an intelligence agent who had orchestrated the assassinations of Tuyến and Quang. Bách’s offense was unforgivable, and General X himself signed off on his death sentence. In addition to Bằng’s assassination team already stationed in the U.S., General X dispatched two more hit squads to hunt Bách down and carry out the execution as quickly as possible—regardless of the cost in manpower or money.

Initial intelligence suggested Bách might be in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. He had driven from Orange County across the border into Mexico before flying to Rio. After more than a week of tracking him, a three-man hit squad finally cornered Bách in a dead-end alley behind the hotel where he was staying. The reputation for marksmanship that Bách had earned during his intelligence training in Lạng Sơn was no exaggeration; he had single-handedly taken down all three elite operatives sent by the Intelligence Agency.

Three weeks later, a second assassination team tracked Bách to an apartment in Toronto’s Chinatown and immediately moved in to kill him. However, Bách managed to shoot two of them and escape. Upon hearing the news, General X flew into a rage—five intelligence agents dead, while Bách remained at large. He ordered a total suspension of all other Intelligence Agency operations, directing every ounce of time, resources, and manpower toward hunting Bách down at any cost—with absolutely no further delay.

General X personally called Bằng. He insisted that any past personal ties or sentiments between the two men be set aside; Bách was now the Agency's number-one enemy, and it was up to Bằng to carry out the execution order. The General revealed that the previous two teams had failed, promising that if Bằng succeeded, he would be promoted to the highest ranks, commensurate with his exceptional talent.

Bằng understood perfectly why General X had initially sent other teams to hunt Bách: the General feared that Bằng’s long association with Bách had fostered a personal bond that would prevent him from carrying out the hit. Only after suffering heavy losses—with five agents dead—had the General finally turned to Bằng for the job. Bằng promised not to let personal feelings interfere with duty and vowed to execute the assigned mission, regardless of how close he was to Bách or how much he respected him. Immediately after discovering that Bach was in Aspen, Bằng informed General X and asked to complete the mission alone; he did not want additional personnel, as they would only get in the way and complicate the task of eliminating Bách.

Chapter 29

Bằng sat down in the chair facing Bách. Bách had lowered his gun to his lap, yet Bằng knew Bách could easily shoot him down at any moment. Having been forced to place the two guns he was carrying on the floor, Bằng felt exposed; he couldn't fathom how Bách intended to treat him.

Bách kept one hand on his gun while pouring a drink into the glass before him with the other. He asked Bằng:

"Care for some cognac?"

Bằng shook his head. Bách smiled:

"I forgot! You never drink alcohol, do you? Just morning coffee, right?"

Bằng remained silent. *What is he after?* he wondered, inwardly admiring his senior colleague. Having already killed five of the Intelligence Agency's top operatives in two separate assassinations, Bách now sat before him, composed and as amiable as a sworn brother.

Bách drained his glass in one gulp. He studied Bằng for a long moment before speaking:

"You know I could have shot you the moment you walked through that door. But I didn't. If it had been any other Agency operative, I wouldn't have hesitated. But you're different! You understand that, don't you?"

Bằng nodded. He still didn't say a word.

Bách continued:

"I want to make you a proposal. I’m tired of being hunted like this. Even if I were to shoot you today, General X would simply send someone else. If you help me by reporting that you’ve taken me out, I’ll split the fortune I’ve amassed over the last thirty years with you. You’d have five million US dollars to live a magnificent life right here. What do you think?"

Bằng shook his head:

"How could we possibly fool General X?" 

Bách smiled:

"I’ve already secured the body of a homeless man. All you have to do is burn this house down and report that you killed me and torched the place to destroy the evidence, saving the police the trouble of a messy investigation. I’ll leave behind my necklace and a few personal items to prove the body is mine. General X isn't in the U.S., so how would he know otherwise? Whether he relies on your word or sends another investigative team, the presence of my necklace and personal effects will leave no room for doubt."

Bằng asked:

"And what will you do then?"

Bách replied:

"I’ll disappear. This time, no one will be able to find me. Not even you."

Bằng nodded. He had always wondered how those two assassination squads had managed to track Bach down so easily. It turned out it was all part of Bach's plan. He had intentionally leaked his hideout in Rio de Janeiro so the first squad would find him—only to be gunned down, as Bách had anticipated the move. The second squad in Toronto had also walked right into a trap; Bách had misled them about his location and prepared an ambush, taking out two more of their men.

Bằng silently wondered if his own discovery of Bách’s hideout in Aspen was also a trap Bách had set for him. Bách’s scheme was truly ingenious.

Knowing General X would spare no resources to hunt him down, Bách had anticipated that after the first two squads failed, the General would send Bằng to find him. Bách had then devised a way to win Bằng over with an offer of five million dollars, hoping to outmaneuver General X and vanish without anyone ever suspecting he was still alive.

Five million dollars! An enormous sum. He worked in Liên’s accounting office, handling tax matters for numerous business people in Orange County, yet not a single one of them possessed assets amounting to five million dollars—and these were Vietnamese living in the United States, let alone those back in Vietnam. His own family in Son Tay would never have dared to dream of having even one thousand dollars, let alone five million! Yet Bằng knew that if he betrayed General X and the matter came to light, he would face the death penalty, and his family back in Vietnam—including his younger siblings—might well be killed too. How could he possibly dare to go along with Bách’s proposal?

Upon hearing Bách’s proposal—laced with the lure of five million US dollars—all the affection Bằng had previously felt for him instantly vanished. Bách held him in such low regard. Bằng was not the sort of man to be blinded by the mere promise of money. Yet, he maintained his composure. Bằng asked Bách:

"Do you really think faking your death will fool everyone?"

Bách rejoiced inwardly; Bằng’s question suggested he was wavering. He pressed on:

"Absolutely! Don't worry. I’ve already made contact with a local coroner. He’ll certify that the charred body found in the house is mine."

Bằng nodded. He wanted to divert Bách’s attention and lower his guard. With a few subtle movements, he maneuvered the small blade hidden in his shoulder padding down his arm, concealing it beneath his sleeve. A simple flick of the wrist would send it right into his palm.

Bằng smiled and said to Bách:

"That sounds good. But we have to break the rules just this once. You’re going to have a drink with me to seal this deal."

Bách looked at Bằng in surprise for a moment—a flicker of suspicion crossing his face—before suddenly bursting into laughter:

"Bravo, Bằng! Alright! You’ll have a drink with me!"

Bách turned to grab the liquor bottle. Bằng gave his arm a quick flick; the blade dropped into his hand, and he hurled it forward with all his might. The blade flashed through the air and buried itself in Bách’s throat. Blood spurted out in a jet. Bách dropped the bottle and clutched his neck. Bằng rose, preparing to lunge and finish him off, but Bách—mustering his last ounce of strength—grabbed his gun with his free hand and pulled the trigger. The bullet tore from the barrel, striking Bằng straight in the heart, and he collapsed forward. The last image etched in Bằng’s mind before everything went dark was Bách toppling backward. The blade, driven deep into the carotid artery, had severed the vessel, and Bách died the instant blood ceased flowing to his brain.

Chapter 30

Liên received the news of Bằng’s death on the very day she was holding the funeral for Đạm, her first husband. Đạm had died following a massive heart attack one morning, right after spending the night with Liên. In the three months since Bằng had left—having gone off in pursuit of Bách—Liên had been inconsolable, utterly bereft without her third husband. To fill the void, both Đạm and Phú had strived to satisfy her every night. However, Đạm was elderly and frail; his overexertion triggered repeated bouts of chest pain, which he carefully concealed from Liên. He refused to see a doctor despite suffering from various ailments, including high blood pressure and diabetes. Although he suspected he had heart trouble, he remained indifferent to it; he held the view that a quick death from a heart attack was preferable to a wretched, lingering existence—such as being left half-paralyzed or bedridden by a stroke, trapped in a state between life and death for decades.

And just as Đạm had predicted, his end came swiftly. One morning, Liên woke to find Đạm cold, stiff, and no longer breathing. Panicked, she shook him repeatedly, but he did not stir; hearing her screams, Phú rushed in from the next room. Upon touching Đạm and finding him already cold, Phú realized that CPR would be futile and called 911 to have the ambulance collect the body. Before the funeral, Phú had informed Liên that he intended to move to New York. He had grown weary of his role as her "second" husband and had stayed only because of his close, brotherly bond with Đạm. With Đạm gone, Phú saw no reason to remain. A cousin of his, who owned a restaurant in New York, had repeatedly asked him to come and help with the business; Phú viewed this as a perfect opportunity to escape his life as Liên’s secondary husband. He planned to leave immediately after Đạm’s funeral.

On the morning before Đạm’s burial, a phone call woke Liên from her sleep. On the other end of the line was the Aspen police department, breaking the news that Bằng had died in a double homicide. Bằng had kept her name and phone number in his wallet, prompting the police to call her; they also asked about the second victim, Bách, who carried no identification and whose next of kin was unknown to the authorities. Liên was stunned. She had never known about Bằng’s past, nor had she ever suspected he was entangled in the scandal caused by Bách—a scandal that was currently the talk of Orange County.

It seemed as though all misfortunes struck at once, almost like a law of nature, Liên mused. She had been a woman famous for having three husbands, living a happy and prosperous life. Her business was thriving, with profits flowing in steadily—enough to support all three of her husbands. Then, suddenly, her first and third husbands died just days apart, while her second husband abandoned her to seek a new life in another state. Liên was left utterly alone. She didn't know what to do; everything seemed meaningless. Even sexual desire vanished from her mind along with her husbands. She wanted to find a new purpose in life. She picked up the phone to call Lệ with the news of Bách and Bằng’s deaths, hoping to reassure her that the scandal—and the case surrounding the deaths of Tuyến and Quang—was finally resolved, so Lệ would no longer have to live in fear and anxiety.

At the same time, Liên told Lệ she would agree to help manage the charity organization that Lệ, Hoa, and Tài had founded to support orphans and provide education for impoverished children in Vietnam.

 ° ° °

Tài had initially proposed repaying the funds inherited from Đỗ Gia Thủ by establishing a charity for the poor in Vietnam—a move intended, at the time, to escape the danger of assassination attempts orchestrated by Hà nội’s intelligence agency. However, after testifying before the House of Representatives and the ensuing massive scandal, Tài realized their lives were secure and that the repayment might no longer be necessary. Lệ, however, saw things differently. She had undergone a profound transformation after witnessing Tuyến’s fatal shooting and enduring their flight from assassins. Her perspective on life had shifted dramatically; all her former cravings—for money and physical pleasure—had vanished. Even the envy and frequent fits of anger that once plagued her were gone. She felt a sense of serenity—even before learning of Bách’s death. As her anxieties and fears dissolved, Tài’s proposal to establish a charity took on a new significance for her, evolving into a compelling new obsession.

Lệ urged Tài and Hoa to proceed with the charity project. She had inherited a vast fortune following Tuyến’s death—tens of millions of US dollars—an amount she could never hope to spend in a lifetime. She was prepared to undertake the initiative alone if necessary, but after deliberating for a few days, Tài and Hoa agreed to join her, each contributing half of their respective shares of the Đỗ Gia Thủ inheritance. Lệ accepted this arrangement; she did not wish to press them further. She had changed, but they were different people; their willingness to part with half their wealth to help the poor was already a noble gesture. After all, twenty million dollars was no small sum.

Lệ’s charitable fund held so much money that she had to organize and manage it meticulously. She wanted the funds to reach the poor directly—especially orphans and underprivileged children deprived of schooling—rather than falling into the hands of corrupt officials in Vietnam who would embezzle them. Since she could not return to Vietnam herself, she needed a representative to oversee operations on the ground, and the person she chose was none other than Liên!

° ° °

Hoán and Vân’s wedding was a small, intimate affair. Vân had just graduated as a pharmacist and wanted the wedding to take place immediately after receiving her degree. Hoán had struck out on his own, opening a representative office for State Farm Insurance. The Bách Việt insurance firm had dissolved after Bach’s death, and most of the honest former clients had followed Hoán. As for Bách’s shady associates—they had scattered, finding their way into the unscrupulous insurance companies that abounded in Orange County. After all, life there didn't simply stop just because Bách Việt had folded.

Lệ, Hoa, Tài, and Liên were all present at Hoán and Vân’s wedding. The two women looked at each other, free of the animosity that had once fueled their rivalry over Hoán. Lệ offered her congratulations to the new bride:

"I wish you and Hoán the happiest of days. And I wish you something else, too: a normal life."

Lệ narrowed her eyes affectionately at Hoán, then took Vân’s hand. She continued:

"A normal life is the best thing of all, Hoán... and Vân. Thank God for granting you that normalcy. It is a special grace He has bestowed upon you."

Guests at the table urged the couple to kiss. Lệ watched Hoán embrace and kiss Vân with the gaze of an older sister looking upon two younger siblings. She suddenly thought what a beautiful couple they made; the radiance of their kiss seemed to envelop Lệ and the newlyweds alike. It was as beautiful as the life lying ahead for Hoán and Vân—and extraordinarily beautiful, too, for Lệ’s new life. Serene, ordinary, and simple. Just like the true meaning of life that God has intended for humanity.

Nguyễn Đình Phùng