“He’s my contract.” Phoenix walks toward Big Wang and Falcon.”We’re just here for a car. You let him go and I’ll get him out of your hair.”
“Actually.” Little Wang’s words cause Phoenix to stop. “It’s good that you’re here. Both of you. The Emperor has requested an audience.”
“How does he even know we’re in the city?” Phoenix asks.
“You Freelancers.” Little Wang laughs. “Don’t you know by now? The Emperor knows all. He sees all. Now, if you’ll please follow us.”
“To the castle?” Falcon asks.
Little Wang and Big Wang look at each other and laugh. As though the very thought of him going back into the castle was the funniest thing they’d heard in their entire lives.
“The castle?” Little Wang recomposes himself. “I forgot how funny you could be. Big brother, do you mind?” Little Wang looks at Big Wang.
Falcon’s eyes dart to the large man lifting his fist. “Is this really necces—” Darkness cuts him off.
4
The smell of incense eases Falcon into consciousness. He slowly opens his eyes to a sparse but ornate room. One window gives the only view to the city outside. Four gold paper lanterns hang in the corners. And a large chair sits in the center of the room.
Chair is an understatement. It looks more like a throne. The seat and back cushions are of black velvet. The armrests are the open mouths of gold dragons. In one of their mouths rests a long, thin pipe. In the chair sits a man, impeccably dressed in a black and gold silk robe. Phoenix stands just to the side of the throne, speaking to the man. With the vice grip of Big Wang on the back of his neck, all Falcon can do is listen.
“I do appreciate you coming all the way here, my dear Phoenix. You are a most welcome guest in our empire,” the man on the throne says.
“It wasn’t the plan. He totaled my car. I just need to get another one and we can be on our way,” Phoenix replies.
“So soon? You have not been in the capital city for two hours and already you are prepared to leave? Why not partake of the many delights we have to offer? Especially in the castle. My chefs will prepare you a most succulent dish.”
“I appreciate the offer but the sooner I get him back, the sooner I get paid.”
The silk robed man stands and takes a few steps toward Falcon. “Though we would, very much, like to assist you in your hastened needs, it is with regret that we must inform you that transportation is as much as we can provide. Of course the mode is entirely your choice. But getting him back?” He points at Falcon. “This, I am afraid, is forbidden.”
“With all due respect, Emperor, what I’ve gone through to get him this far—“
“Is most appreciated. We are prepared to compensate you for his contract. Though it saddens me to say that it will not be quite the amount I am sure you were to receive.”
Phoenix stares at the Emperor’s back. Her eyes dart to Falcon. “In less than a day, he destroyed my car.”
“Easily replaced,” the Emperor tells her.
“He almost got me blown up.”
“Yet, here you stand.”
“I was attacked on a bus.”
“You overcame. As you have many times before.”
Phoenix takes a moment to come up with another logical argument. Some reason the Emperor should turn Falcon back over to her. “I always fulfill a contract. That’s my reputation. That’s my honor.”
The Emperor turns to her, intrigued by her new response. Honor is no material thing and is of such a high value that no price can be placed on it. He steps toward her. “Your reputation is your honor. I can certainly appreciate that. What are we, whether an Emperor, a King, or a peasant, without our honor? It is what sets us apart from those unmentionables of society. Even one such as myself cannot stand above the honor of another.”
“So you’ll—“
“But this is why I am intrigued. Honor coming from the mouth of a Freelancer?” The Emperor smiles.
His expression tells her everything she needs to know. He has no intention of releasing Falcon back to her.
“An individual who seeks only material wealth and glory has very little room in themselves for honor. Seeking the betterment for the people. That is honorable.” The Emperor walks back to his throne and sits down. He removes the pipe from the dragon's mouth and brings it to his own, taking a leisurely drag from it. “You are welcome here whenever you like. But what you do is far from honorable, dear Phoenix.” The smoke billows from his mouth as he speaks.
“What, not good enough for the castle?” Falcon strains to speak.
“You’ll never see the castle, again.” Big Wang tightens his grip on Falcon’s neck.
“Ah, he is awake.” The Emperor places the pipe back in the dragon's mouth and stands. “The jackal is awake. This will make a far more engaging celebration.”
“Celebration?” Phoenix asks.
“Sure. Slow needles. Sounds like a great party.” Falcon smiles sarcastically.
The Emperor walks quickly toward his new prisoner and back hands him across the face. “You do not speak unless spoken to.”
“I thought you were talking to me.”
The Emperor raises his hand again.
“What did he do?” Phoenix interrupts before a second strike.
“He did not tell you?” The silk robes gently flow as the Emperor spins to face her.
“He just said he wasn’t welcome here. The guys on the bus said the same thing.”
“It was to be a wonderful celebration upon his contract obligations. Sadly, the man does not know his drink. I very much loved that bonsai tree until he desecrated it.”
“When you gotta go. You gotta go.” Falcon shrugs. Big Wang squeezes tighter. Falcon’s hands, instinctively reach for the man’s fingers, futilely trying to pry them loose. The Emperor provides relief in raising his hand, signaling for Big Wang to loosen his grip.
Phoenix looks at Falcon with shock in her eyes. “You got drunk and you—”
“It is in the past,” the Emperor starts. “But you now understand why he must remain. His punishment will be most severe. For your time, gracious guest, you will be compensated forty cents on the dollar and the vehicle of your choice.” He walks by her and returns to his throne and his pipe.
“Forty cents? That barely covers—”
“Please understand. We do this out of the goodness of our hearts. While you are most certainly a treasured guest, it is our royal right that we take the prisoner with no consideration for reward.”
Phoenix stares at the Emperor while he takes another drag, indifferent to grievances. She turns to Falcon as though he might have a logical answer for all of this. Freelancer to Freelancer. The prisoner purses his lips and looks up at the ceiling. He has no answer.
She faces the Emperor again. “And this is honorable? Over a tree?”
The Emperor exhales. “Do not forget yourself, dear Phoenix. You may have amnesty in our empire but you are still a Freelancer and it takes only my word to relieve you of your amnesty. It would sadden me if you were no longer able to seek out a living fulfilling contracts from here. It has done much good to be rid of the more undesirables of our society. But there are benefits to being rid of Freelancers, as well.” He takes another drag. “By the way, did you happen to acquire his beloved Rachel?”
“Rachel?” Phoenix asks.
“His car,” Big Wang says.
Phoenix stares at the Emperor, confused at how easily he can change the subject. As though the matter were over. Even more confused at how quickly she allowed it. “His car. No. It was just him.”
“A pity. I would have especially enjoyed owning such a thing. I have often dreamt of whether or not to add it to my own collection or to make him watch as I destroy it. As I recall, it is quite the machine. A perfect blend of speed and endurance.” He looks directly at Falcon. “But we do not need to inform you of that, do we?”
The Emperor’s words make Falcon struggle harder against the
vice grip around his neck.
“We try hard to have everything but such is the way of the world. Even an Emperor cannot control fate. We tire of seeing this man for the moment. Daken.” The Emperor claps his hands one time and Phoenix watches as a man, nearly the size of Big Wang, step out from the shadows. He wears a tactical vest full of ammo magazines. A large machine gun rests in a sling around his back.
Falcon’s eyes go wide at the sight of the man. “Daken.” The words come out like an accusation.
Phoenix turns to Falcon and sees him staring daggers into the newcomer.
“Emperor,” Daken says.
“Take the dishonorable snake to a dark hole and begin preparations.”
“You want him to scream or just cry a little?”
“Start simple. Merely the basics. A pre-party if you will. It is our wish to be there for the main event.”
“Blunt force trauma it is.” Daken steps toward Falcon.
“My dear Phoenix,” the Emperor says as smoke, again, billows from his mouth. “You must stay the night, in the castle. I will have my accountant and personal assistant award you with your compensations in the morning.”
Without warning, Falcon kicks his foot backward, into Big Wang’s knee. The hit is not hard enough to break it but it’s more than enough to hurt. The large man releases his grip on Falcon to clasp his hands down to his injured knee.
“Stop him!” The Emperor stands.
“Daken!” Falcon rushes straight for the man. He throws his entire body into Daken and the two crash through the window.
5
Falcon and Daken burst into the open air outside of the room. The men fall two stories down into a large red shade sail. The cloth sways from the weight of their impact.
Daken is the first to strike, slamming his elbow into Falcon’s chest. It’s not a very good hit. The sail doesn’t provide nearly enough leverage for a solid blow. Falcon slams his elbow into Daken’s chest as hard as he can. The cloth cradling them coupled with the ammunition magazines, provide more than enough defense to make the strike nearly worthless. At best it just prevents Daken from striking again.
For a very short while.
Falcon tries to roll over to his side. He brings his fist down on Daken’s head. Again, the swinging cloth helps to cushion the impact. Both men know how to take a punch but in their current situation, they don’t really have to. Higher up on the sail, near the attached flag poles, the cloth wobbles and waves while the two men struggle for some kind of upper hand.
Phoenix runs to the window and stares down at the two men fighting in what might as well be an oversized hammock. Daken tries to stand but fails to find his balance. Falcon throws his fist forward and lands the hit right on Daken’s eye. It’s a solid hit that would normally be shrugged off but the lack of balance on the moving cloth makes Daken fall backwards.
As that larger man falls back onto the red cloth a popping sound emanates from one of the flag poles. Phoenix looks up just in time to see the cloth begin ripping. She looks back down and sees Falcon and Daken look at each other then up at the pole. There’s nothing left to do but ride it out as the cloth tears away from the flag pole and the two men tumble down the falling sail.
Rolling down the cloth, Falcon tries unsuccessfully to grab it. Daken tries to get a grip on Falcon but they’re tumbling too fast as the cloth carries them down in a gradual free fall. Their decent finally ends with Daken landing on his front and Falcon landing on his back. Despite the slower fall, the impact with the metal roof is still enough to momentarily incapacitate both of them.
The roof’s slant ensures the fall is not yet over. Falcon is the first to roll off the top of the one story section of the building. Daken’s gun slows his roll toward the edge. His hands stop it all together.
Falcon sits up, coughing. He takes a huge gasp inward, refilling his lungs as he looks up and sees Daken’s head hanging over the edge of the building. His pursuer takes his own gasp for air before he locks eyes with Falcon.
Phoenix steps onto the window frame, crunching small pieces of glass under her boot.
“Bring him back here,” the Emperor orders as though he were speaking to a servant or underling.
“Sorry. He’s my contract.” She leaps for the shade sale and tightly grabs onto the hanging cloth. She looks down and sees Falcon struggling to his feet while Daken tries to do the same. Phoenix loosens her grip on the cloth just enough to slide down it, making sure to keep focus on where she’s falling.
Daken finally wobbles to his feet. The new lack of balance makes him lean too far over the edge and he falls off the roof. His feet are the first to hit the pavement but he fails to stay upright and once again finds himself on his back. The gun doesn’t add any kind of cushion.
By the time Phoenix hits the metal roof, feet first, unlike the others, Falcon is already back upright. He wavers a little but it’s not enough to put him back on the ground. It is enough to prevent him from fighting back as Phoenix slaps a handcuff around his wrist. She clicks the other cuff to herself. In the move to secure him, she doesn’t notice when he swipes her gun from its holster. He turns to aim the weapon at Daken who still struggles to stand.
“We need to go.” Phoenix pulls at Falcon’s cuffed arm.
Falcon pulls the hammer on the gun back.
“Falcon!” Big Wang runs at them from their rear.
Falcon spins around and takes a shot at the large man. It misses as Big Wang ducks behind a nearby light post. Falcon uses the distraction to run, yanking Phoenix along.
The two shove through a crowd of drunken revelers. Falcon turns back to see Big Wang making his way through them as well. At his size it’s not quite as difficult for him as it is for them. Falcon points the gun upward and fires off a shot. Those who still have their wits about them, run and duck for safety. Others, too inebriated to run out of the way, simply fall to the ground. The entire cacophony of frightened citizens makes a decent obstacle, blocking Big Wang from catching up.
Falcon pulls one way, farther down the street of drunken pedestrians, Phoenix pulls in the direction of the market street.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” he says.
“We need a car,” she replies.
“We need to get with the crowd and wait him out. Last time we tried things your way, this is where it got us.”
“We’re here because you wouldn’t cooperate.”
They both pull back and forth. Falcon gains only a little ground. “I’ve got the gun.” He turns it on her.
“You had plenty of time to shoot me, before. You didn’t then, you won’t now.”
Falcon stares at her for a moment. She’s right. Though he’s still not sure why. He stops pulling and flips the gun around, the handle extended toward her. She looks at it then at him, untrusting.
“Falcon!” Big Wang shoves people out of his way. Phoenix turns to see him and takes the gun. She fires it into the air, recreating the same obstacle as before and pulls Falcon toward the market street.
Falcon and Phoenix push their way through the crowd of buyers and sellers as they did when they first arrived. They are on the hunt for a car just as before. They near a narrow, one way, intersecting street. As they cross, something reflective catches her eye and Phoenix pulls Falcon down the narrow street.
A small garage is open in the middle of the street. There’s barely enough room for the tarp covered item sitting in it, much less it and the two of them. Phoenix looks down at the reflective surface. Before she even removes the tarp, she already knows what it is. The two of them grab the cover and pull it off, revealing a very small vehicle.
“This is not a car.” Falcon drops the tarp to the street. “This is an oversized shopping cart.
“This is our get away.” Phoenix drags him to the driver’s side of the small car.
“No one’s getting away in this thing.” He squeezes by her and the wall of the garage to the front of the vehicle.
“We don’t have time fo
r this.”
“You’ll thank me if we have to keep running the rest of the way.” He pops the hood and lifts it up. The engine inside is tiny. “Is this a two cylinder? Is this even possible?” Falcon stares at the sparse inner workings. It looks as though someone took a larger motor and cut it in half just to be able to fit it in the car. “We’re better off hiring a pedal cab. We don’t have enough power in this thing to get through that crowd.”
“Falcon!” Daken’s voice roars over the throng of market street occupants.
Phoenix shuts the hood. “It’s what we’ve got. Let’s go.” She pulls him back to the driver’s side and shoves him into the car.
Phoenix reaches under the steering wheel and pulls out the wiring panel. She pulls Falcon’s arm down with her to feel around for the wires. She rips two of them from their contacts and strikes them together. The little engine sputters to a start and she twists the wires and puts the little car in reverse.
The little car backs out of the garage. She doesn’t even need to turn the wheel. Even in the narrow street, the small sized vehicle has plenty of room. Falcon looks out of the passenger side window and sees Daken standing in the crowd. The man is much taller than those walking around him. He looks side to side before turning to face the narrow street, meeting Falcon’s cold stare. Phoenix turns the wheel and the car away from the busy market. Daken blows through the crowd in the opposite direction.
The small car turns down the intersecting street. There are far fewer people on this one. Those who are out, stand close to the walls unlike those in the market street who block the road traffic. Falcon watches as they pass by the old buildings. Some are still crumbling from the war. Others have various structural additions to keep them from crumbling. The taller buildings behind them look to be lifeless as sunlight shines directly through entire walls blasted out in the past.
“Who is Daken?” Phoenix asks.
“Just another Freelancer,” Falcon tells her.
Freelancers: Falcon & Phoenix Page 3