Henry Chang - Red Jade

The sedan turned sharply into the shortcut, speeding up toward the warehouse road.

Jack lost sight of them momentarily but found himself getting too close to the gray minivan. He was forced to slow down in order not to expose himself and then had to go around traffic at a red light.

When he saw them again, the sedan had slowed near an access ramp to the piers, and the minivan suddenly cut in front of it, disappearing into the truck road. The angle at which the sedan had stopped effectively blocked off the turn toward the warehouses.

Jack pulled over, wondering if they’d spotted his tail. He got out of the car and crossed the street, where he could see down the long road. Alex followed cautiously, eyeing the sedan.

“Stay back!” Jack snapped at her, drawing his Colt revolver. She ducked behind a metal Dumpster as Jack spotted the minivan moving past the warehouses, a long block away.

Hearing the squeal of tires behind her, Mona turned and saw the minivan screeching to a stop partway down the road. Two men jumped out of it and started sprinting toward her.

She froze for a second before tossing the umbrella and breaking into a dash toward the bay.

Jack saw the two men chasing the woman. Neither he nor Alex noticed the big man who appeared from between parked cars. The man had seemingly come out of nowhere, knife in hand. He was already jumping at Jack, who’d looked back instinctively over his shoulder. Reflexively ducking away, Jack twisted and brought his gun hand up, pointed toward heaven, and pulled the trigger. He heard Alex’s scream mixed with the repeating thunder from the Colt, then two more explosions as the impact of the man’s body bowled him over, slamming them both to the concrete pavement.

Jack squeezed off two more shots, the noise muffled against the heavyweight’s body.

Almost there, Mona panted, just another block. The terminal loomed up ahead. She breathed in gasps but her legs were strong from the long jogs back to Chinatown.

Her lead lasted almost fifty yards.

The two men caught her and started pulling and pushing her toward the minivan, which had backed up onto the end pier. They pinned her arms and dragged her along, screaming and kicking. She tried digging in her heels but her sneakers skidded across the wet planking of the boardwalk. The abductors were carrying her toward the end of the pier. One of the men slapped her but she kept screaming.

Fuck! Jack felt blood oozing from his ear, adding to the shock wave washing over him, the man’s bulk now a dead weight on top of him. It took two shaolin breaths before he could shove the man off.

The concrete pavement had banged a gong into his head, but Jack recognized the man as the goon with the nunchakus from the temple. His knife had skidded to a stop near the Dumpster where Alex crouched.

They continued forcing Mona along.

A small boat was moored illegally at the end of the pier. An older man stepped out of the minivan, angry at her screaming, and at the sound of gunfire. He barked some slang Cantonese at the two men.

“ Mo lun yung! Both of you are useless! Go back and stall them!” He grabbed Mona by the wrist as the men scampered back toward the street. She twisted and resisted but was unable to break his iron grip. She was ready to scream again when he dug a fist into her belly that drove the air out of her, dropping her to her knees. He held her contemptuously by her hair as she gasped for breath.

There were police lights coming along the waterfront now; it seemed like forever before she got up on one knee. She was surprised at how strong the old man was as he started dragging her by the hair toward the waiting boat.

Jack twisted up onto his elbows, catching his breath. Apparently, they’d made him, and the big goon had slipped out of the sedan and doubled back. Ahead of him now, a second man exited the sedan and was coming in Jack’s direction. The shuriken -throwing man. This time he had a gun in his hand.

“They’re getting away!” Alex screamed, pointing toward the end of the pier where a man was dragging the woman along by her hair. Her screams had died out.

Jack pointed the Colt at the man, but it was empty. Ripping out his speedloader clip from his jacket pocket, he popped the Colt’s cylinder clear of spent shells. He was on his knees now, trying to insert fresh rounds as the shuriken man closed in, taking aim and crouching.

The old man yelled something to the boatman and Mona heard the growl of an inboard motor revving up. Yanking her forward, the old man cursed and made ready to shove her onto the boat.

Her struggles had worked open the zipper of her shoulder bag. Suddenly, he pounded a heavy fist at her jaw, bloodying her mouth. She reeled backward and twisted down, reaching into the open bag. He continued choppunching her in the back of the head. She thought she heard the wail of sirens.

The old man paused, looking back up the pier where he had dispatched the two 49s. The police lights were getting closer. He cursed again and turned back to Mona, cocking his fist to hammer her again.

The shuriken man smiled, sensing the kill. Suddenly, Alex stepped out from behind the Dumpster and picked up the dead man’s knife.

“Hey!” she yelled.

Surprised to see her, he hesitated for a moment before aiming his gun her way. Alex reared back and flung the knife with all her might. The knife spun wildly through the air and the man ducked it easily, laughing, then cursing, Dew! He sneered and pointed the gun again, taking a step in her direction even as Jack felt the fresh bullets sliding into the Colt’s cylinder, and snapped it shut.

The man glanced at Jack, who was braced on one knee now, leveling his gun and cocking the hammer. The fire exploding from the Colt’s barrel froze the man until the first two.38 hollow points tore into his chest. The revolver roared rapidly again and the man dropped to his knees, glaring at Alex until the light left his eyes. He collapsed in a heap, the sneer gone from his face.

Jack ran over and kicked the gun out of his hand as the last gasp shuddered out of his body.

Alex ran toward the pier, and Jack ran after her, clipping his detective’s shield to his jacket.

The new round of gunshots had distracted the old man.

Mona brought her hand out of the shoulder bag with the Chinatown souvenir letter opener in her grasp.

The last thing the old man saw clearly as he turned was the flash of something metallic in her hand, a spike, he thought, as she plunged it into his eye. His snarl froze on his mouth. The sudden pain shocked him. Blood streamed down his face. He staggered forward, his brain shortcircuiting, chi seen , howling as he yanked the dagger from his eye.

There were police cruisers wheeling in, and a fierce commotion near the end of the pier. The two goons from the minivan waited by the access road, ready to block the way.

“Alex!” Jack yelled, knowing this time he had two shots left in the Colt. She froze as a tall white man in plainclothes suddenly ran up yelling, “Police! SPD!” then lowering the gun in his hand when he saw Jack’s badge.

“NYPD!” Jack yelled back as they sprinted together toward the pier, a barking, panting exchange running between them.

“Detective Yu, I presume!”

“Right! You’re Detective Nicoll?” Jack noted the man’s chiseled features, the trim mustache.

“From a red ball to a tong war, brother!” Nicoll said, grinning.

Alex trailed behind them as they ran.

His grip never loosened even through the extreme agony and her fierce screams that filled his ears. She felt a searing pain from her wrist, as if the red bangle were on fire, burning her. She mustered what strength she had left and violently ripped herself free from him. She hardly noticed that something had loosened through the air, that part of his sleeve had gone limp. She bolted in a near-panic toward the water, stopping dead, gasping, when she came to the tenfoot plunge at the edge of the pier.