TWENTY- EIGHT

Dawkmymy – Life is Good

Bobby and I have made-up. My hopes are that our relationship will expand. Optimistically, we have resolved all our issues. Christmas 1964 is approaching. We have set a wedding date for Sunday, January 17, 1965. I met with Tira and Malsa and they have helped me select my wedding dress.

The bridesmaid apparel is in different shades of blue. They seem to be happy with the designs and beauty of the gowns. My Mother and Father paid for the dresses. Friends and family have taken an enormous weight from me.

The matron of honor will be Ling Noy. The fitting and finishing of the gowns were accomplished, and have been delivered. Ling Noy and Nang Chom along with my mother have shown tremendous support in organizing all the activities surrounding the events.

There have been several showers and teas. The largest one was at Ling Noy's house, with the men watching past FFF films at Nang Chom's.

Bobby is having six rooms added to my house. Additionally, he is putting in two western style bathrooms in the expansion, one for the boys with a shower stall, and the other for the girls with a large bath tub. There is a toilet, bidet', and a sink in each. Since the addition is larger than the original five rooms, it should be called our home.

Furthermore, the enlargements will combine a bathroom and one and three quarters bedrooms into a master suite. The remaining one fourth of the bedroom will be converted into a modern guest bathroom. New appliances and furniture were installed. Bobby and I seem to be pleased with the overall design and function of the transformation.

Our combined salaries, my twelve percent ownership of the Crystal Dragon Corporation, and Bobby's fighting fees and royalties, netted us after taxes over thirty million Bhat ($1,000,000.00) a year.

Cousin John had us to hire two private security guards. Even though they were former members of his agency, he had them checked out. We barely notice that they follow everywhere. It was satisfactory that we were guarded in such a manner.

Sunday, January 10, 1965 at 1915 hours, Bobby was walking me to the house from his apartment where Martha had prepared a wonderful shrimp with sticky rice dinner. A car stopped behind us.

Two men descended from the vehicle with hand guns. They had covered their faces with ski masks. One of them told us if we did not go with them, that they would kill us. Bobby raised his hands in the air like he was going to surrender. He turned around so quickly, kicked the guns out of their hands, and booted one of them in the middle of the belly. He fell to the ground groaning.

The one that did the talking fled to a second car, and began firing another gun. Bobby was hit, and blood came gushing from his shoulder. He slumped to the ground. My Bobby was unconscious, and laying in the middle road.

I started weeping, and bellowing that they killed my fiancé. A third man came up and identified himself that he worked for John. The security representative touched Bobby behind the ear, and said, "Your fiancé is still alive."

John's agent took a little pouch from his coat pocket, unzipping the small case and retrieving a tool, as he shoved the instrument into Bobby's wound. When the device was recovered from my sweetheart, the bullet came out with it.

While the agent retrieved a tube from the bag, and inserted the contents of the conduit into Bobby's injury, a gauze patch was placed on the shoulder, and taped to the correct position. I probed if he was a doctor. "No, but I have done this before."

He revealed, "I have radioed for an ambulance, and that my two security guards were wounded. Bobby will be fine. Moreover, I need to check on the additional two who were shot."

He came back, informing me that his partner was following the car with the shooter in it. The relief guard probed me. "Did you see the face of the shooter?" I disclosed to him, "No, but I thought I recognized the voice. I reported that it sounded like Peter Smyth." About that time Bobby was waking up. My wonderful man was groggy and blurry-eyed. Informing him that I believed that the shooter was Peter Smyth, we will know soon.

John arrived in a Jeep. His agent apprized him of the situation. He notified his rep where he was going, but informed him to stay with the security guards until the ambulance arrived. When John returned to the vehicle, Bobby hopped in the front seat on the rider's side and I jumped in the back seat.

John peered at me as if to stipulate, "You are not going, it is dangerous." My returned gaze equally spoke, "I am not going to let anyone leave me." He pronounced, "It is better not to argue, but you are not going inside." I thought, "Try to keep me out."

We arrived at a small hotel on the seedy side of Chiang Mai. Ten of John's assistants joined us, as well as ten of Bobby's team. Each one entered the hotel. The place appeared to be abandoned. One of the men heard muffled cries coming from the elevator shaft. John pressed the button. He directed his men to go down the stairs and check each floor heading downwards. Five of Bobby's men went with them.

The other five loaded on the transport along with John, Bobby and me. It did not budge. John reached into his pocket and pulled out a small key. He said most elevator keys are interchangeable. After inserting the implement into the slot, and turning it, all of us headed downwards. It rendered a groan while everyone descended, and each of us felt a thump upon sinking to the bottom.

The door opened. Four men jumped into the hallway, two facing one direction and two facing in the other. The corridor was deserted. Cries and screams were emitting from each end of the hallway. John, Bobby, one of Bobby's men, and me went in one direction. The additional four went to the other end.

What we discovered was that four men happened to be in the room. Each one of them was situated over a woman. The ladies were crying, screaming and begging to be left alone. The men were not aware of us entering the room. Each of us went to a man, pulled his head up and delivered a swift hard chop to his Adams apple.

They grabbed their necks as they could not breathe. We pushed them off the females onto the floor where they died. We pulled sheets off the bed to cover the women. The man on Bobby's team struck Peter Smyth, trying not to hide the tears that were erupting from his furious eyes.

We heard noise emerging from another room. Bobby's man pulled the slide back on a handgun and handed it to me saying, "Just point it and squeeze the trigger." Two dozen men were watching two women being raped. They were so fixedly focused on the rapes that they failed to observe us as we made our way into the room. We began shooting until only three returned fire. None of us were hit. We eliminated those that shot at us. Two of our guys removed their jackets and put them on the young girls. The other teams reported that they experienced similar conditions on each floor.

Four men were brought to John. One of his reps revealed, "These four men were under desks in their offices." John quizzed one of the lead men and requested his name. The detainee spoke in Chinese to the other captives not to tell this idiot anything. John put a gun to his head, and spoke in perfect Chinese, "That is the wrong answer." John yanked the trigger and the detainee collapsed to the floor. Then he faced the other three and told them if they answered his questions truthfully, he would let them live.

They answered his questions and exposed other gang members. John had the names written down. He told me that he would pick up the ones whose names he had.

I asked what he was going to do with those men. "They will be taken to prison." Continuing, he pointed out that his undercover agents inside the jail will pass the word around about the kidnappings and multiple rapes of young girls. "They won't make it to court alive."

John promised them he would let them live, but many of the inmates have little sisters, some of which were killed, kidnapped, disappeared or raped. The revenge will be quick. No one will grieve over them.

I stated, "There is justice in the world. What happens to these young women and girls?" "They will be taken to the Regal Garment Factory, where they will be processed.

A few of their families will welcome them back home. Several choose not to. A lot of them require medical, emotional and mental assistance.

A handful just need love like Malsa." "Bobby and I love her. Treating her the same as the other children. She does have a few more liberties appropriate for her age and maturity."

"Why did John not tell us that he had two of his men following our security guards? After all I'm his cousin." Bobby responded,"I do not understand what goes on in his mind, but I think he is the smartest man in the world. He keeps this country free for people like us. His methods may be different.

Perhaps, he heard something from one of his informants, or he just had a feeling. I greatly appreciate him and his men. They helped keep you and me from being damaged. I do admire the ideals for which he stands. I hate that those women had to suffer with what they endured."

Bobby hugged me extra tight and planted a strong kiss on my lips. "I love you. I am in high spirits and you are my man."

"I love you too! I am glad you happen to be my woman."