warned Lan Ngoc Tran. He was standing inside the Bang Kok Health Spa, a small, neatly organized massage parlor in downtown Bridgeport. Lan’s English was heavily accented, but the message was loud and clear. Two young women in the reception area of the parlor cowered in a far corner. Near the door, Chin Suk Ruth, the proprietor, gasped with fear. “Open the door! Let my guys in! Now!” ordered Lan, his 9mm pressed to the back of Chin Suk Ruth’s skull. Because he had been alone, Ruth had allowed Lan entry, no questions asked. Now she walked to the front desk and carefully pressed a buzzer, allowing Kenny Vu and a gang member named Tung Lai to enter. “You got any customer in back!?” Lan Tran asked, barking at the proprietor as if it were an interrogation. Although Chin Suk Ruth had come to the United States from her native Korea more than twelve years ago, she found it hard to speak clear, concise English with a gun pointed squarely at her head. “Yes, yes,” she stammered. “American customer somewhere back there.”
