Eagle (7 page)

Ying heard the door begin to open and he let the
qiang
slip through his fingers to his side. He kept his hand on the end of the barrel, far from the trigger.

“Wise choice,” HukJee said.

One of the bodyguards stepped into the office. “Sir?”

HukJee smiled. “I need you to round up a few things. The list is short. Be quick about it; our guest is in a hurry.”

A quarter of an hour later, Ying pushed himself away from HukJee's breakfast table, completely stuffed. He was certain he'd never eaten that much food before.

“Enjoy yourself?” HukJee asked.

Ying moaned and nodded. “It was delicious.”

HukJee grinned. “Magnificent. I'd offer to have you join me for my midmorning snack, but I believe your goods have arrived.”

Ying turned and looked out of the office door. One of the bodyguards approached, holding a brown leather bag.

“Please take a look,” HukJee said. “Let me know if you are satisfied.”

Ying stood from the table and the man handed him the bag. Inside was a short
qiang,
unloaded, plus lead balls, wadding, fire stones, a ramrod, and a horn of black powder. There were also black silk clothes and a wide black silk scarf that a woman might use to tie up her hair.

Ying glared at the bodyguard. “A scarf?”

The man shrugged. “The workers in back said that was all we had.”

HukJee chuckled. “What about the
qiang,
Ying?”

“I like it,” Ying replied, closing the leather bag. “The ammunition is a nice surprise. A pleasure doing business with you.”

“Another satisfied customer,” HukJee said. “Wonderful!”

Ying offered HukJee a slight bow.

HukJee bowed back as best he could with his stomach still wedged beneath the table. “Come back anytime, Ying. Just be sure to leave your attitude at the door. Treat me fairly, and I'll do the same for you.”

“I'll remember that,” Ying replied. He quickly tied the black scarf across his face and left.

Ying crossed the docks at a brisk pace, hurrying to find a place to change his clothes before the sun rose any higher. He zigged and zagged through four different streets before settling on a narrow alley between two tall apartment buildings. He changed quickly, shoving the Pit Cleaner's uniform and the swatch of white silk he'd had on his face beneath a small pile of rotting lumber. The new clothes were of the finest quality and fit him well. He adjusted the black silk scarf across his face, tied his chain whip around his waist, and was about to step back onto the street when he froze. He felt that someone was watching him.

Ying sank low and poked his head quickly out of the alley. At the far end of one of the buildings, he saw a man's shadow. Someone was hiding around the
corner. Ying could have kicked himself. He should have been more careful leaving HukJee's.

Ying slipped the leather bag over his shoulder and quietly untied the chain whip from around his waist. He placed the chain's handle in his right hand and the weighted tip in his left. He silently wound each end of the chain around his hands until he had two metal-wrapped fists with a length of chain as long as his arm dangling between them.

Ying stepped out of the alley without making a sound and hurried toward the building's far corner. As he reached it, the shadow moved and Ying leaped high into the air, just in time. A big man with brown hair and round eyes had been expecting him. The man let out a roar and burst around the corner, swinging a large boat oar exactly where Ying's knees would have been.

The giant's mighty swing left him off balance, and Ying slammed a metal-clad fist into his jaw. The big man rocked back on his heels but must have had a chin made of iron because he shook off the blow. The man dropped the oar and dove straight at Ying.

Ying leaped into the air again, and the huge man missed him a second time. The giant landed sprawled on the ground, face-first, and Ying spun 180 degrees in the air, landing on the man's back in a sitting position. Ying wrapped his legs around the man's midsection and looped the chain whip around the man's thick neck. Ying leaned way back, cutting off the supply of air to the giant's lungs, as well as the supply of blood to his brain.

The big man thrashed wildly, clawing at the chain, but slipped into unconsciousness after just a few heartbeats.

Ying released the tension on the chain immediately. He didn't want to kill the man. He had a few questions to ask him first.

Ying unlocked his legs and was about to unwind the chain from his hands when he heard someone speak in heavily accented Mandarin Chinese.

“For a man who wears women's scarves, you fight pretty well.”

Several men laughed, and Ying looked behind him. Six men stepped out of the shadows, each holding a short
qiang
in one hand and a strange sword in the other. They were all round eyes.

Ying started to unwind the chain whip from his hands, but a small man at the front of the group shook his head. “Leave your shackles on, Ying. You're coming with us.”

Y
ing found himself being led through a maze of back alleys and side streets, his hands bound with his own chain whip. Six heavily armed round eyes surrounded him while a seventh, the giant, led the way. The giant had just returned to consciousness and was still groggy. He weaved from side to side as he walked, Ying's leather bag swinging wildly over one of his wide shoulders.

“Where are you taking me?” Ying asked the group.

The small man who had spoken to Ying earlier smiled and said, “Sorry, we no speak Chinese.”

The group laughed.

Ying bit his lip. He was fighting mad, but he knew
he was in no position to do anything. He might be able to take out one or two of the round eyes, but they all had
qiangs
and those strange swords. The swords were long and thin like a Chinese straight sword, but curved. They had a large, wide guard over the handle to protect the user's hand. Ying had seen them before, carried by round eyes in attendance at the fight clubs. The swords were called cutlasses. Ying had always wanted to test his skills against a man with one of those. Perhaps he would have his chance yet.

They eventually stopped behind an ordinary-looking single-story building. The small round eye turned to Ying and said, “Be on your best behavior. You're about to meet your new boss.”

The small man stepped up to the back door and knocked two times, then three times, then once. The door opened, and Ying was shoved inside.

It took a moment for Ying's eyes to adjust to the room's dim light, but after blinking several times he had no doubt who he was looking at. Fu, Malao, and Seh sat at a large table, along with several adult round eyes. At the head of the table, the place of highest honor, sat Hok.

Hok frowned at Ying. “You weren't supposed to come down to the waterfront until this evening.”

“I had some business to attend to,” Ying replied.

“You made a mistake,” Hok said. “That's not like you. It's a good thing Charles’ friends found you before Tonglong's men did.”

Ying's eyes narrowed.

“Remove his mask,” Hok said to the round eyes nearest Ying. “Unwrap his chain whip, too.”

“Are you sure you want him free?” the small man asked. “He seems to be quite a skilled fighter.”

“He gave me his word that he will cooperate,” Hok said. “Do as I ask, for Charles’ sake.”

“If you think he can help Charles, then okay,” the small man said. He unwrapped the chain whip from Ying's hands, and Ying snatched it away.

The small man raised his
qiang
to Ying's head.

“Let him keep the chain whip,” Hok said. “Return any other weapons you may have taken from him, too.”

“But he carried a
qiang,”
the small man protested, “and ammunition.”

“His word is good,” Hok said. “Return them, please.”

Ying removed the silk scarf from his face himself, and one of the round eyes handed him the leather bag. Ying checked inside. Everything was as he'd left it.

“Come,” Hok said to Ying. “Have a seat. We need to discuss a few things.”

“I'll stand,” Ying said. He wasn't about to sit in an inferior position to Hok.

“As you wish,” Hok replied. “I have some new information to share. HaMo has Charles, and he wants to make an exchange.”

“HaMo?” Ying said. “The former bandit?”

Hok nodded. “He contacted us here through Charles’ friends. It seems HaMo snatched Charles from a holding cell while the Jinan Fight Club was burning. He wants me to meet him alone to exchange Charles for the dragon scroll map that Seh carries.”

Ying glanced at Seh, then back at Hok. “You're not going to do it, are you?”

“We don't have any other choice,” Hok said. “We took a vote and decided I should do it.”

“You didn't let me vote,” Ying said.

Hok didn't reply.

“You have no idea what you're giving up with that scroll,” Ying said, frustrated. “Don't do it.”

“I am going to do it,” Hok said. “Unless you can think of something better.”

Ying tried to calm himself. “Where are you supposed to meet him?”

“On a barge anchored in the middle of the river. Downstream, tonight. Just me.”

“You're walking into a trap,” Ying said.

“You don't know that.”

“No?” Ying asked. “HaMo double-crossed the bandits by allowing me and Tonglong access to their secret mountain fortress. He lived as one of them for more than ten years and sold them out for gold. What makes you think he'll keep his word with you?”

Hok didn't answer.

Ying stared at her. He could tell that she was going to go, and nothing was going to stop her. “At least let
me look at the scroll map before you give it away, along with your life.”

“I don't know about this—” Seh began to say.

Ying turned to him. “I was promised time with the scroll as part of our deal. Show it to me.”

Fu growled and looked at Hok. “But Ying isn't going to do anything,” Fu said. “That means we don't have a deal anymore. Throw him out of here.”

Ying ground his teeth. He needed to take a different approach. “Show me the scroll, Hok, and I'll come up with a plan. I give you my word.”

Hok rubbed her temples. “I don't know—”

“I have nothing to lose and everything to gain by helping you,” Ying said. “Give me a quarter of an hour with the map, and I will make sure you leave HaMo's boat alive. All of you can stand over me while I study the map, if you wish. Bind my hands and feet. I don't care. A quarter of an hour, that's all I ask in exchange for an insurance policy on your life. What do you say?”

“I say we take another vote,” Malao offered. “I vote to let Ying help. So what if we show him the map? He'll probably get squashed by HaMo, anyway.” He shrugged.

“No way,” Fu growled. “I say we throw Ying out now.”

Malao poked Seh in the arm, and Ying saw Seh's snake slither beneath his sleeve. “What do you think, Seh?” Malao asked.

Seh didn't reply.

Hok stood. “I vote that we let Ying help,” she said. “It's up to you, Seh.”

Seh waited a long time before answering. “We should let Ying help.”

“No!” Fu roared.

“That's enough, Fu,” Hok said. “It is decided.”

Fu slammed his fist into the tabletop, but remained quiet. Ying was impressed. Back at Cangzhen, Fu would have continued to complain for hours over something like this.

Hok sat back down. “There is one more thing we still need to discuss. Since HaMo knows where we are, we will need to find a different place to hide. I suggest once we free Charles, the four of us travel to PawPaw's house.”

“PawPaw?” Ying said.
“Grandmother? Who
is that?”

“A woman who has helped us tremendously in the past,” Hok replied. “I would hate to impose on her again, but I don't know where else to go.”

“PawPaw's house makes sense,” Seh said.

“If it's good enough for you two, it's good enough for me,” Malao added.

“That's fine with me,” Fu said. “As long as Ying isn't coming.”

“Then it is decided,” Hok said. “Even if something should happen to me, the rest of you should go to PawPaw's, just to be safe.” She looked at Ying. “Would you like to see the scroll map now?”

“The sooner, the better,” Ying said. “Perhaps it will give me some inspiration for a plan.”

“Please show him the scroll, Seh,” Hok said.

Seh pulled the dragon scroll map from the small of his back and laid it on the table. Ying fought the urge to lunge for the scroll. He reached out, taking it carefully with both hands. Ying unrolled it and immediately felt energized. It was the same feeling he got just before a lightning storm hit. He noticed that the hair on his arms was standing on end.

As the initial excitement faded, Ying began to look the scroll over. He realized right away that it wasn't old. It was a recently made copy. He turned to Seh. “What happened to the original?”

“I modified it so that it was no longer accurate and let Tonglong steal it,” Seh said. “This is an exact copy of the unmodified version. I … made it when I could still see.”

Ying grinned. “Good trick,” he said. “I bet you drove Tonglong crazy.”

Seh nodded.