Read Online Born to Kill by T. J. English - Free Book Online

sign this paper,” said Andy.
    There was a hushed silence at the table. Andy’s response could have been taken as a test of David Thai’s authority, if David wanted to take it that way. Instead, with his usual smooth persuasiveness, Thai seized on the occasion to present a favored image of himself, that of the velvet glove pulled smooth and tight over an iron fist.
    â€œLittle brother,” he responded calmly, “go home and think about it. No one should have to make such an important decision right away. The door is always open. But remember: You must sign this paper if you call yourself a member of our organization.”
    Tinh and the others at the table were impressed. Thai handled Andy’s challenge with such a cool head, standing up for his own position without needlessly embarrassing his challenger. In fact, as Tinh watched David move so confidently from table to table, dazzling his guests with charming small talk and easy laughter, he wondered how Thai had developed such a fearsome reputation.
    Tinh may have been young, but he had experienced enough in life to know that leadership was based on power, and power, especially in the underworld, was based largely on fear. How could anyone be afraid of David Thai, thought Tinh, when he appeared to be so benevolent, so understanding?
    Three weeks later, after the cognac had been downed and the words of solidarity had receded into the atmosphere like so much cigarette smoke, Tinh would have his answer.
    Stretched out on a bed in a small hotel room, Tinh was awakened from his nap by a knock at the door. Clad only in his underwear, he got up, went to the door, and inched it open. Through the crack, he could see Phu, a short Viet-Ching .
    â€œ Anh hai want to see you,” Phu told Tinh.
    â€œ Anh hai? He here? At this hotel?”
    â€œYes,” nodded Phu. “He want to talk to you. Room 308.”
    â€œOkay. Give me one minute, I get my clothes on.” Tinh closed the door and pulled on his pants, wondering what on earth David Thai was doing at the Carter Hotel.
    Located directly across from the offices of The New York Times on West Forty-third Street in midtown Manhattan, the Carter was a cheap hotel trying to look expensive. The lobby was spacious, with lots of mirrors and gold lamé, but the rooms were small and spare.
    Lately, the hotel had become a favored hideout for BTK gang members who needed to lie low after assorted criminal activities. Surrounded by the continuous tumult of Times Square, the gangsters figureda few tough-looking Asian kids would hardly be noticed at the Carter. It was not the kind of place a smooth operator like David Thai would usually be found, unless he had a reason. Tinh knew of one possibility, and it made his stomach muscles tighten with fear.
    Just two days earlier, Tinh, the Vu brothers, and Phu had raided another Chinatown massage parlor, this one at 54 Sixth Avenue. It had been a daring 4:00 A.M . heist in the middle of Ghost Shadows territory, and the net had been an impressive $15,000.
    After the robbery, as they hightailed it to the Carter Hotel, Tinh had secretly taken $1,000 from the bag of stolen money and stuffed it in his underwear.
    Tinh knew it was a dangerous thing to do, but he didn’t care. Months earlier, after his first massage-parlor robbery, the Brooklyn dai low , Jimmy Wong, had taken nearly all of Tinh’s cut, claiming he needed it to buy food and pay rent.
    Tinh knew gang protocol specified that the dai low was authorized to control the distribution of proceeds from all robberies. And he knew that a percentage of the proceeds from all robberies was used to cover living expenses in the various “safe houses,” or apartments, that the gang members used. But Tinh had come away from the Chrystie Street robbery with a measly $100, and he was determined to make sure that this time he received his fair share.
    Tinh took the elevator down to the third floor and knocked on