Exiting the building, Jack saw the rain begin to fall harder. He looked through the thin traffic for a taxi, but saw something more intriguing. Across the street, he saw the same homeless man from earlier sitting at a bus stop covering, staring straight at him again. A large scarf covered the man’s face. Checking both ways, Jack walked over to the bus stop. The homeless man didn’t leave when Jack sat down with him. Jack shook off the rain and glanced at the man. His shoes were old combat boots that had lost their color. His black cargo pants were stained, and his hoodie had holes in it. His face and hands were covered with a rough looking cloth. At a closer look, Jack saw the walking stick resembled more of a metal Jō staff than a walking stick.
“So,” Jack said, looking at his hands as he wiped the rain off his pants. The man kept his eyes on Jack. “Have we met before?”
The homeless man said nothing.
“Was it at a party you crashed?”
The man slowly let his staff rotate towards Jack, laying to rest one end on Jack’s head. He asked in a slurred, muffled voice, “Where’s Lóng?”
Jack froze, moving only his mouth to answer. “I can find out for you.”
The man lifted his Jō off Jack’s head.
“But,” said Jack, “it will take some time since he has a whole crew looking for you.”
“Not a problem,” said the man. “Why should I trust you?” He placed the Jō back on Jack’s head.
“Because I didn’t shoot you at first sight,” Jack said, nonchalantly staring back at him.
“You have no gun. Why should I trust you?”
“You’re not an average assassin, are you?” asked Jack leaking out only a hint of surprise. The Jō slid down Jack’s face and stopped at his throat, pressing softly against his windpipe.
“No. Why should I trust you?”
Jack resisted swallowing, and with a quickly drying throat said, “Because I don’t care if he dies.”
“I don’t want him dead, but speak of this, and you will be.” With that, he took the Jō off Jack’s neck and left without another word.
Jack looked the opposite direction of the assassin to see a police car turning onto the street they occupied. Jack quickly took out his phone and pretended to do something on it until they passed. He glanced over at the seat where the assassin sat to see he had left a small card. Jack examined it. It was a stockbroker business card. He turned it over to see only one word written on the other side.
Dumpster.
Chapter 21
Limited Forgiveness
C hi stood in front of an elderly man selling fish, and collected his protection money. The older man reluctantly thrust a small wad of cash into Chi’s hand and mumbled under his breath curses toward Chi as he left, who was counting his money.
“Chi, how are you?” asked Yu as he and Jack approached him in the street market.
Chi stuffed the money in his pocket before acknowledging them. “Yu! I’m good, I’m good. Just collecting some dues.”
“Thought that was a job for 49ers?” asked Jack curiously, though that was not the way Chi took it.
“They usually do,” answered Chi bitterly, “but they have had some trouble with the old fisherman, so that’s why I’m here. I take it you’re the Lumberjack?”
Jack tilted his head, his eyes narrowed as if reading what Chi said to make more sense of it.
Chi chuckled. “Yeah, you’re him. That’s what everyone calls you because, you know, you look like one.”
Jack remembered the bald-headed fighter who first called him that. “Well, I guess I am then. News travels that fast here.”
“Also,” said Chi, “Heard you and Li got cut up pretty bad.” Eyeing Jack’s bandage, he gave a louder laugh showing off his jagged teeth under his pencil mustache. “Guess it wasn’t as bad as they said.”
Jack clenched his jaw and smiled only for a second.
Yu intervened. “Yeah, well, Li’s fine too. What other rumors are floating around that you’ve heard?”
Chi nodded, took out a pack of cigarettes, and said, “Heard that Lóng is trying to rebuild the Red Dragon after his failure of inheritance.”
“Victim of circumstances,” Yu quickly pointed out.
Chi shrugged his shoulders. “Sure, whatever helps him sleep at night.”
Jack gave a genuine smile and said, “Did you know that the mole responsible for it went missing a couple of days ago?”
Chi’s cheerful face dimmed slightly. Yu started to clench his jaw now.
Jack continued, “I guess Boqin’s men forgot to tell you that.”
“Happens in this kind of business,” said Chi, a small tremor in his hand as he puffed on his cigarette. “Have to be strong and smart to survive, or be allied with the strong.”
“Who are you allied with?” Jack asked, looking at Chi who did not look back. “Because this chance to come back is limited to this moment. Forgiveness is limited to this moment.”
Jack looked away, and Chi’s shoulder’s relaxed. “One time?” Chi drew a long inhale from his cigarette and let it out with a quick sigh. “Rackets don’t bring in as much as they use to.”
“A gift will be offered to those who repent,” said Yu.
Chi’s head shook as he looked toward the road behind Jack and Yu.
“A gift that keeps on giving?” asked Jack.
Chi looked at Jack, who started to hum ‘The Wheels on the Bus’ nursery rhyme. A smile emerged in the corner of Chi’s mouth, and he said, “I like the sound of that.”
Chi and Jack shook hands. Yu gave Chi his information to work out the details later. After they had said their goodbyes, Jack and Yu left Chi to his business. Jack had a grin on his face but Yu didn’t. Once they were out of earshot, Yu voiced his concerns.
“What the shit was that?” said Yu. “I don’t remember Lóng making you the Straw Sandal! If you do that kind of shit again, I will personally cut you a thousand times!” Yu kept his voice low, but he spoke with a sharpness in his words.
“It got him back in the Red Dragon didn’t it?” asked Jack in a calm, carefree voice.
“At the cost of a bus route?! I’m not sure if anyone told you, but we don’t have any bus routes! All we got are a dozen restaurants, a few clubs, a couple of whore houses and a few drug dealers. That’s it. No buses.”
“But Enlai does.”
“So? We don’t have the force to take it from him, and I thought we were supposed to be keeping ourselves out of a triad war?”
“I wasn’t thinking about using force. Well, not our force at least.”
Chapter 22
Heavy Badge
F u sat in his older black car with tinted windows and watched the bus stop on the opposite side of the street. He looked down at the envelope he received the day before filled with new, irresistible hundred-dollar bills and a bus time bulletin with several different times and bus stop locations highlighted. Fu checked the time on his car’s analog clock. Five minutes till the bus arrived. Fu perused the bus stop again. Two men sat on the bench smoking cigarettes, sloppy in their dress when compared to Fu’s attire. He wore a Polo shirt tucked into his blue jeans; the two young men wore dirty shorts and t-shirts that looked like they hadn’t seen a washer for a while. Fu placed the envelope in his glove compartment and pulled out the black handgun he had been issued when he became a cop. He pulled out his badge and held it in his right hand and the gun in his left. The badge seemed heavier than usual.
Fu looked back up to see the bus pulling up to the stop ahead of schedule. The two young men got up and waited for a few passengers to get off before entering the bus themselves. Fu’s heart sped up as he hid his gun and badge before getting out of the car. He quickly crossed the street. Through the bus’s front window, Fu could see the two men talking to the driver. As he grew closer, Fu saw the driver reach down and pull up a wad of cash. One of the young men took it as the other blocked the view of the passengers. But Fu could see quite well. He pulled out his badge and tapped
it against the front window, catching their attention. Fu thought it would be simple: they would walk out and try to lie their way out of it, maybe even bribe him. He wouldn’t give in, he would cuff them, and that would be that.
It wasn’t like that at all. As soon as they caught a glimpse of the badge, they bolted. The man with the cash grabbed the driver, pulled out a knife and held the driver hostage. At the same moment, Fu dropped his badge and pulled out his gun, aiming it at the blade holder. The other young man hid behind his friend, peeping his head out to see what was happening. Fu didn’t have the cleanest of shots on the thug.
“Drop the knife and step out of the bus!” Fu demanded. “This is your only warning.”
“You drop it!” responded the thug, pushing his head forward with his chin up. His prideful motion gave Fu a much cleaner shot, which he instinctively took. Blood splattered onto the bus’s ceiling. The driver dropped to the floor and curled up into a ball as the thug fell backward, landing on his companion. Fu dashed into the bus, his gun at the ready, and found the other thug sitting on the floor with blood-splattered hands above his head. The thug’s partner lay beside him, dead.
Cops arrived. Some reporters too. Fu went back to the office. Filled out paperwork. Clocked out. Went grocery shopping and went home. He wondered why he was acting like it was another day at the office.
Fu’s apartment door slowly closed behind him, as did the day. He held a plastic bag of groceries and his wife’s prescription. His hands still shook from the bus shooting earlier. The bonus from Jack was helping the bills but not Fu’s nerves at the moment. He walked through the unorganized living room and into the kitchen on the left. A pot of cooked noodles sat beside a sink with a couple of open bottles of spices and a baking sheet of cooked salmon.
The sound of gagging erupted from the bathroom. Fu dropped everything and dashed to the bathroom across the living room, with his hand on his gun. He stopped and peeked through the half-opened door to his wife’s feet as she kneeled over the toilet. The sound of vomiting followed another short gag. Fu took his gun and placed it in the drawer beside the bathroom before going to his wife’s aid.
She still had her pajamas on and was holding half her hair back with one hand as the other was on the toilet seat. She glanced back at her husband as he knelt beside her and took the job of holding back her hair.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered with sweat and tears on her face before facing the toilet again and vomiting. Chewed-up noodles and salmon spilled into the toilet water.
“I’m sorry,” she started again. “I thought since I craved it, it would taste good or something, I’m sorry, sorry.”
Fu calmly shushed her as he rubbed her arm.
“I hate those pills,” she finally cried out with empty lungs, resting her head on the toilet seat.
“Me too,” Fu calmly said holding back his tears as he thought of the cash in his pocket and that one doctor. “Me too.”
Chapter 23
Bad Lies
T he pawn shop sat between an old restaurant and a shady loan business. Iron bars covered all the windows, making the welcome sign seem not that welcoming. Jack told the cab driver to wait for him as he entered the pawn shop. The driver yelled at him that it would cost extra. Jack ignored it, his mind set on his first collection.
The smell of curry hit Jack like a slap. It funneled to him through the tight corridor of shelves filled with paperback books, tiny statues, kitchenware, and more junk than Jack had ever seen. A man in his forties sat behind a glass case filled with cheap jewelry. His back was hunched and he was reading a western romance novel. Jack walked up and tapped on the glass counter.
“What you buying?” the owner asked, annoyed, without even looking up. Jack tapped the glass again. The owner rolled his head up to look at Jack. His annoyed face was washed away by fear.
“You the new collector?” The owner’s voice was quivering as he asked.
Jack nodded. The owner closed his book and opened a drawer behind him with a key. He turned around with a wad of cash and gave it to Jack. Jack flipped through it once, noticing immediately it wasn’t enough.
“I’m not new to this,” Jack said, sounding bored but still a little nervous. “So, you need to pay me the right amount and extra for my inconvenience.”
The owner frowned and opened his mouth to protest, but Jack cut him off. “You can either pay the hospital or me. Your choice.”
The owner closed his mouth and gave Jack the rest of the money. Jack said nothing else and left.
As Jack was telling the driver where to take him, his phone rang and he answered.
“So, I hear you have been making some big waves recently?” said Lei Lei over the phone.
Jack chuckled. “Hey, just trying to do my job.” He sat in a cab, observing the business card the assassin gave him.
“But really, taking over the talks with Chi, promising stuff you don’t have, then using the cop you just got on the payroll to get said stuff? I’m a little turned on. Though, Yu is pissed at you.”
Jack looked around for the business. “Yeah, I’m not surprised by that. I am surprised how you know about the cop.” Jack faked concerned in his voice.
Lei Lei giggled. “Lóng told me. You honestly don’t think I just shop all day and have affairs all night, do you?”
Jack forced an awkward chuckle as it clicked she was married. “I guess I underestimated you. I assumed he kept you out of the loop for safety.”
“Safety?” Her voice sounded offended. “If my brother didn’t pick up the mantle dad had left I would have been a big contender for picking it up. Though honestly,” her voice grew soft again, “I’m glad he took the job. I enjoy being the Deputy. It’s like a hobby that pays, better than actually working.”
Jack stopped staring into the passing streets as he fit pieces of the puzzle together in his head. “Yeah, and I wouldn’t have been able to have such a fun time with you if you were the Dragon Head. Speaking of, how is he?”
“He’s still on edge since the attempt on his life. He’s been prepping up a new safe house and just the regular Dragon Head duties.”
“I take it no leads on the assassin?”
“No, but I gave Lóng some ideas on how to deal with him when we find him.” Lei Lei chuckled maliciously.
Jack’s cab came to a stop in front of a massive skyscraper. “I bet. Hey, I got to go, but I will call you later, alright?” Jack paid the cab driver and left the car.
“Sure, what are you doing?”
Jack looked over the crowd of people hustling from one building to another. “Apartment searching, don’t want to live with Li forever. He’s making great progress, and I don’t want to be there when he starts going out and bringing girls home.”
Lei Lei laughed. “I’m glad you’re thinking ahead. What kind of apartment are you thinking of?”
Jack approached the alleyway to his right. “Some place simple and roomy.”
“Ok, well keep me informed on how it goes. I’m not going to let you get something hideous. I refuse to sleep in an ugly apartment and if I do, I’ll just leave before you wake up.”
Jack laughed as he looked down the alley to see a dumpster. “Don’t worry, I won’t. And I promise I won’t do that again. I’m about to walk into the apartment now, so I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.”
Jack hung up after Lei Lei said goodbye, and walked toward the dumpster. He kept his distance as he checked around the dumpster for any sign of the homeless assassin. There wasn’t even a sign of anyone living there. Jack looked at the time when he heard a soft voice say, “Smoke.” Jack casually took out a cigar and reluctantly lit it.
“Don’t speak unless your mouth is covered.”
Jack took a puff, using his palm to hide his mouth as the gruff voice had commanded.
“What do you want Lóng for?” Jack asked.
“Why don’t you care for Lóng?” the voice asked back.
“I don’t care who pays me.”
“Lie. You would have reported me, but you didn’t. Why?”
Jack leant against the rough wall, torn between being impressed at this man’s abilities or questioning his ability to lie. He thought for a second in silence, considering what this man wanted. Then the thought hit him as if the wall he leaned on toppled on him. Jack took another puff. “Because, maybe we want him for the same thing?”
“I don’t want money,” he hissed at Jack.
“I don’t either, like you said I would have reported you by now. Why do you want him?”
A silence followed Jack’s question. Jack had a growing sense that this man didn’t just know The Twelve like Golay in Amsterdam did. Jack suspected this man had worked for them.
“Where?” the man said, finally breaking the silence.
“My place, you should be able to find it. Come at your convenience.”
Jack dropped the cigar and left without a word.
Chapter 24
Floating Meeting
E nlai walked with vigor toward the boathouse Boqin owned. The boat sat in the middle of an empty harbor, empty because on this sunny day most of the other boats were out enjoying the weather. Enlai was followed by two of his 49ers, both armed, just like he would when he was under the Red Dragon. Enlai wore a sports coat that made his companions look underdressed. He usually wore a ‘wife beater’ but knew if he wanted to get what he wanted he would need to dress to impress. Two large men in plain black suits and no ties stepped out from below the ship and onto the deck. Their uniforms were a little worn - some seams coming undone on their sleeves - but they still looked more mature than Enlai’s own guards. He knew it would be like pulling teeth to get his men to dress like that. The two suited guards blocked the way onto the boat as Enlai approached.
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