Revenge (15 page)

As Jason released his grip, Boudica's body slid over the wall. She fell silently to her death. He looked over the wall and waited. After a few seconds, he heard a faint thud several hundred feet below.

He staggered back into her room and then into her bathroom. He regretted letting her go. He knew he should have found out where George was first. The cold water applied to his nose slowed the bleeding. He noticed the skin around his eyes was already turning black. He bled from his face, arms, hands, and thigh. His neck had teeth marks from her bite. He felt cheated by Boudica's death. He had expected more.

Luke growled at him but didn't come out from his hiding place. Jason went outside and looked over the wall. He was too exhausted to climb down. With his injuries, he would probably fall to his death.

He pulled the gun out of his pants and opened her bedroom door. It led to a long corridor with cream carpet. The walls were covered in red silk, and imitation flame lights lit up the entire corridor. He slowly walked along, gun in one hand and a blood-stained cloth over his nose with the other.

He heard voices and tried to discover if they were coming from in front of him or behind him. He was having difficulty correctly focusing. He put the gun back in his pants and kept walking. Ahead, he noticed three approaching men wearing the same black clothing. They looked puzzled when they saw Jason. He nodded and kept moving.

“What happened to you, boy?” one asked in Chinese.

“I fell,” he replied but kept walking.

“Wait. Why have you no shoes? Who are you?” he asked.

Jason ignored him and kept walking. He could see some stairs ahead but could hear footsteps behind him. The men were getting closer.

“Stop. Who are you?” they shouted. Jason stopped and cursed at the man. He was too tired to fight. He pulled out the gun and shot him. The other two men tried to turn and run, but Jason opened fire and cut them both down. An alarm sounded across the entire castle. Jason made it to the stairs and started running down two at a time. After a few floors, he tripped, fell, rolled down some stairs, and dropped the gun in the chaos. He looked up and could not focus correctly. His broken nose and injuries had put his body into shock.

Not
now. Wake up.

He staggered to his feet and walked down a corridor, holding onto a wall for support, leaving a blood-stained trail. He opened a door and searched for a hiding place. Inside, two men sat playing cards. They jumped up and shouted. He darted out and went back to the stairs. They now gave chase, and after a few more steps, they were right on his tail. He felt a hand grab his arm. Jason swung around, grabbed the arm, and brought his knee down, breaking the man's arm. The second man kicked Jason, catching the boy in the chest. Jason fell back into a fire extinguisher and landed on the ground.

Three others arrived and circled him. Jason jumped to his feet and attacked them, switching from one leg to another, kicking out at anything that moved. As he jumped from one foot to the next, his body working automatically—his mind was blank. One by one, they were knocked down and then he made his way down more flights of steps. Even more gave chase. As he rounded a corner, he noticed at least six men running up the stairs. He was surrounded and completely exhausted.

Jason could hear someone grunting and realized it was him. Every movement was an effort—fighting to breath, gasping for air, forcing himself not to give up. He took off down the corridor, but after a few paces, he noticed more men ahead of him. He was trapped. He ran at them, and while he stood on one leg and kicked out to keep them back, he fumbled for the handle on a door to his left. Fortunately, it wasn't locked. He jumped in and locked it.

Immediately his followers turned the handle and started banging on the door. He took in his surroundings. He was in a bedroom. It was modern and looked just like a hotel room. A man's clothing was set out on the dresser. Steam and the sound of running water came from the bathroom. The banging got louder on the door while Jason frantically looked for a way out. He found a jug of water on a tray, calmly took a drink, and poured the rest over his head, trying to wake himself up. He ran to the narrow, stained-glass window, opened it, and looked down.

He was still nearly a hundred feet up and could not risk climbing down. He noticed a large power cable a few feet below his window. It was dark outside, and he could not see where it went; however, it angled down and away from the castle.

The water from the shower stopped, and the banging grew louder. They were now using a fire extinguisher against the door, which shook with every bang. It would not hold them for much longer. He was exhausted and out of options.

“What's going on?” a naked Chinese man shouted when he came out of the shower.

Jason picked the man's pants off the dresser, wrapped the lower part of a leg around his left hand, and jumped up on the windowsill. The man ran to the door to open it, and Jason launched himself at the cable.

Please
hold
my
weight.

He grabbed the cable and swung. Then he lifted his legs and hooked one of his legs onto the cable for support. It was a lot thicker than he had thought, and it was wet. He hooked the other pant leg over the cable and rolled his right hand around it. The pants were now hanging with a leg on either side of the cable, and he had a pant leg in each of his hands. The cold night air on his wet face and hair brought Jason back to life and gave him the will to live.

“Shoot him quick. He is getting a way!” a voice from the window shouted.

Jason released his legs and swung forward and started sliding down the cable. His speed soon increased. He knew it would come to a sudden stop eventually, but he did not know where exactly. But with gunshots coming from behind, he did not really care. He lifted his feet out in front of him to break his fall. It was dark, but the moon gave enough light to see a large electric tower approaching fast.

His homemade sling stopped at a large insulator a few feet from the tower. He was thrown up into the air, swinging six feet away from the tower. He thought about swinging back and forth and trying to grab the tower with his feet, but the heavy hum of electricity told him that was a bad idea. If he touched the electrified tower while he was holding the pants and cable, he could get cooked by the current. He swung back and forth and let go. For a few brief seconds, he was falling—that is, until he grabbed the metal crossbar on the tower.

“Ouch,” he cursed as his forearm smashed against the cold metal.

Immediately he started to climb down. Behind him, he could hear shouting from the castle. Boudica's men started to swarm outside with flashlights. Jason dropped a section at a time, jumped the last twenty feet, and rolled free. He got to his feet and started running through the small area of grassland. He leapt over a gate and was now on the hard road surface. His bare feet made no sound as they sprinted across the courtyard toward the hotel among the parked cars. He ran up the steps and burst through the doors. He briefly stopped and looked back to ensure he had not been followed and then ran through the hotel lobby and pounded up the stairs.

He knocked on his door and waited patiently, panting as sweat ran down his blood-covered face. What was left of his shirt was stuck to his body. When the door opened, he darted inside and quickly closed the door behind him. His nose was swollen and bent to one side. His eyes were dark, and his tear ducts were working overtime.

“Jason? Oh no! What happened? Look at you,” Joanne cried as she tried to put her arms around him. He pushed her away and walked toward a table that had a half-full bottle of Coke. He struggled to drink it between heavy breaths. Joanne studied him and his horrific wounds. She put a hand on his arm, trying to comfort him, but he winced in pain and moved away.

“Let me call an ambulance,” she said.

Jason planted an evil look on her while he continued to drink. The last thing he could do was get the local authorities involved.

“Well, I don't know what to do, Jason. You need to clean the wounds. I'll run a bath.” She disappeared into the bathroom and turned on the water, but when she reappeared, she found Jason sitting on the edge of the bed with his head down. He felt faint and sick. His head was spinning, and every part of his body was sore. “What happened, Jason?”

“She didn't want to hang around, so I let her go.”

“But look at your face. Your eyes are black. Your nose—it's out of shape. It looks like a boxer's nose.”

“Thanks,” he said.

“And it's all cut.”

“She had a pet leopard. Luke, I think she called it. It was huge and crazy. It attacked me.” He painfully lifted his arm and looked at the scratches.

“Are you sure you're okay? You look like you're seeing stars.”

“Stars? I can see a whole galaxy. I'll be okay,” he sighed.

“Where are your shoes and socks? Oh, Jason…your leg is cut open too.” She bent down and looked at his leg. He lay back on the bed, his body still shaking from shock, exhaustion, or the cold—he was not sure. He closed his eyes.

“Come on. Get clean and then you can sleep. You don't want an infection.” She pulled his hand and got him to his feet. He was in a haze. His head throbbed. He never complained when she undressed him and bathed him. Small matters like being in the state of undress did not seem important now. After a bath, she put him to bed. He remembered nothing more until the morning.

• • •

He was woken by the knock on the door.

“Room service,” a woman's voice called. Joanne jumped up and greeted the woman and took the tray of plates covered with polished, stainless steel covers—a large jug of orange juice, cereals, and a newspaper.

Jason rolled over. He blinked several times to clear his vision. He looked at his watch and blinked again. He groaned as his body ached with every move he made. His nose and face were tender to the touch.

“Morning, sleepy. How are you feeling?” she asked, pouring the orange juice into the glasses.

“Thirsty and like I have been hit by a train and dragged along the track.” He held out his hand and looked at the grazes on his knuckles. “You see this thumb?” He held his thumb out, and Joanne came to look at it.

“Yes,” she said.

“Well, that's the only thing that doesn't hurt.” He grinned.

“Get up and eat something. You'll feel better. You don't have much clothing left again,” she sighed. “I'll go out after breakfast to the store across the road and get you some new clothes and shoes. What size shoes do you wear?” she asked as she passed him some juice.

When Joanne returned with the clothes, Jason put them on and looked at himself in the mirror.

“I look like a panda,” he said, looking at his swollen nose and two very dark black eyes.

“I have never seen anyone with two black eyes before. Your nose is still pretty swollen too. It looks dented.”

“I'm certain it's broken. It hurts like hell. My friend's dad is a plastic surgeon. He'll fix it for me. He covered up two bullet wounds for me once.”

“You've been shot before?” She looked at him with her mouth open.

“Yeah, that hurt like hell too. I don't want to get shot again. I think I should call SYUI now.”

A knock came on the door. “Room service.” Jason looked at her, concerned.

“I didn't order anything more,” he shouted back at the door.

“I have come to collect your tray, sir,” the voice from behind the door called. Joanne went and opened the door. A woman in a maid's outfit entered and headed toward the tray. She stared at Jason and his face. He turned away and looked out the window up at the castle. It seemed quiet now. The Triads must have given up the search for him. People were busy in the street below going from store to store. He could just see the café on the corner, and he noticed the same old men sitting around the tables, drinking coffee. Jason picked up the phone to call SYUI.

“Ouch.” He felt a sharp pain in his back. He quickly turned around and saw Joanne being carried out of the room. Two men in the familiar black clothing had grabbed her and covered her mouth. Two other men watched Jason. One was lowering a gun. Jason put his hand behind his back and felt something sticking out. He pulled it out and looked at it. In his hand was a tranquilizer dart.

“Let her go!” he shouted and tried to move forward, but his legs felt like lead—almost as if they were stuck to the floor. His right knee gave way first, and he fell forward onto his hands. “Let her go! Joanne!” He fought against the oncoming sleep and tried to stand. He was dizzy. The room seemed to be at an angle. His head was turning, trying to keep focus. His mind went blank—and then darkness.

Triad leaders from around the world met as planned in the grand hall of the castle. A long, polished cherry wood table was set on a raised stage at one end. At the table sat the Triad Dragon leaders. Eleven of the most evil men sat together for the very first time. A seat near the center was empty. The nameplate on the table read “Boudica.”

Below the stage and twenty feet back were row upon row of seats filled with Triads deputy leaders, Triad vanguards, and Triad Red pole members. The vanguards were the operation officers, and the Red poles the enforcers.

The meeting was arranged by Boudica to regroup and stop the breakup of the Triads. However, not every Triad group was behind her. Many felt that Boudica had gone too far. Many of their own children and grandchildren had also been addicted to Coca-Bites.

The Dragon head, Chun Low, started to speak. He was in his midsixties, with a bald head. He had a scar across his face from his left eye to his mouth. It was an old injury from a fight when he was in his twenties.

“Welcome to the meeting. We all know why we are here. Some of you may not know that Boudica has not been seen since last night when we were raided. Well, I am pleased to inform you we have the parties responsible in our custody, and we will deal with them here and now. As you are aware, over sixty of our brave men fought in honor of our sacred traditions and oaths. Fought and died.” He paused, his voice shaking in anger before he carried on. “Bring them out!”

An overweight man was marched out to the floor in front of the stage. He was handcuffed and had a sack over his head. He was pushed down to kneel before the stage. The sack was removed. George squinted as the bright light hit his eyes. His greasy hair was stuck up in all directions. He was unshaven and sweating. He looked around the room at his captors.

A girl was marched out. She was not handcuffed, but she also had a sack over her head. She was positioned next to George, who looked at her, trying to focus his eyes.

Some of the Triad leaders looked shocked to see a young girl brought before them in this manner. They removed the sack, and Joanne squinted at the bright lights. A scuffle could be heard from the corner of the room.

“Bring out Jason Steed. This is the person who worked undercover and is responsible for many of the deaths of our brothers,” Chun Low ordered.

Two men carried Jason out, his hands cuffed behind his back and a sack over his head. Only an hour earlier, he had come around after he had been tranquilized. He wriggled and fought against his two guards. He was dropped on the floor in the center of the hall before the stage. His sack was removed from his head. Immediately the two guards retreated as if they had just released a wild animal.

“Is this a joke? If it is, it's in poor taste. This is a child,” an elder deputy leader said, Chun Low looking down the long table at him.

“No,
this
is Jason Steed. It was he who broke into the castle last night,” Chun Low replied. Jason's eyes adjusted to the light. He noticed George and Joanne kneeling down on the floor. “What have you to say to us, boy?” Chun Low asked. Jason ignored him. Instead, he made eye contact with Joanne.

“Did they hurt you?” he asked loudly and angrily.

She climbed up and ran to him and put her arms around him. Jason looked at George and gave a slight nod.

“I never thought I would see you again,” Jason said and smiled. George gave half a smile and winked at Jason. He was shocked to see the condition of him.

“Ah, young love…how sweet. I asked you a question Steed,” Chun Low said.

Jason turned and looked at him and the others seated all around him. He was certain he would soon be killed and would stay defiant to the end.

“So
this
is the big, brave world of the Triads. You capture a schoolgirl and an overweight policeman for doing his job.” Jason shook his head as if reprimanding them. “Wow, the mafia has nothing on you guys. You Triads are really hardcore bad guys. If you want me to speak, let her go. If not, go fly a kite.”

Outraged, Low nodded at the guards behind Jason. They grabbed Joanne and threw her on the floor. Another guard took out a leather whip and whipped Jason across his back. The crack of the whip cut deep into his skin. He cried out in pain and fell to his knees.

“You will not disrespect us. You will answer the question,” Low ordered.

Jason slowly stood. He had tears of pain running down his cheeks.

The large room fell silent. Just the sniff from Jason could be heard.

“What do you want to know?” he asked quietly with his head bowed in defeat.

“Boudica. Where is she?”

It then occurred to Jason that they had not found her body yet. He was pleased to have the upper hand. “We had a conversation on her balcony, and we sort of had a falling out. Well, actually, she was the one who fell out,” he said and laughed.

“You think this is amusing? We will see how funny you think it is when we take the whip to the girl.”

“No, let them go. They are both children.
I
am the SYUI officer that started this. It's me you have the bloody beef with. She's just a little girl who has nothing to do with this. As for Jason, look at the state of him. It was me who got him involved in this. Let them go,” George said and stood.

“You almost lost your son. That's a heavy price to pay for someone just doing his job,” Low said, stopped, and took a drink of water. He then spoke in a whisper to the others around him. For five minutes, a small hum of whispering could be heard. George was joined by Joanne. Eventually Chun Low stood. The room fell into silence, awaiting his word.

“It is decided. You will be taken from here and executed at first light. We are a wounded organization but will recover. Many men and women have died. The girl stays with us. We need her to bargain with her father.”

“What about Jason?” Joanne shouted.

Low looked at the girl and then studied Jason, who was still standing, his hands cuffed behind his back.

“The boy and George Young will be executed.”

“No!” a person shouted from the back of the room. He made his way to the front of the stage and walked past Jason and stood in front of Low and the other leaders.

“No, I forbid it. Boudica was my aunt. She was a Dragon leader and a great Triad. He killed her. As part of our oath, I want to kill him the traditional way. It's my right as the nephew of Boudica,” he commanded. Some of the high council nodded in agreement. Low looked at the young man and the others on the council.

“Very well. Take off his handcuffs,” Low ordered.

Jason watched the young man, who still had his back to him, as he removed his shoes and socks. They took the handcuffs off Jason and stood back. Jason was still not sure what was happening. He looked up at Low and shrugged his shoulders.

“Jason Steed, you have been challenged by a member of Boudica's family. The fight has one rule. To win, you kill the opponent,” Low said. Jason noticed a hint of sympathy in his voice. Jason looked at George and Joanne in disbelief. George could not face him, so he looked away.

The young nephew of Boudica removed his jacket and shirt. His muscular back was V-shaped, and he had a slim waist. The triceps in the back of his arms protruded from his soft, young skin. He turned and faced Jason and then smiled.

“Jet Chan,” Jason gasped.