Andy McDermott - The Tomb Of Hercules

“Thank you,” she replied. “I know we had some problems in the past, but I wouldn’t want you to still be angry with me.”

“I’m not. So, where are you sitting?”

“Box number one,” Sophia told him. “Best seats in the house.”

“I’m down in the cheap seats, I’m afraid. Oh well, maybe we can meet up later.”

“We’ll be leaving as soon as the performance finishes,” Yuen said pointedly.

“That’s a shame. Some other time, then?”

“It’d be a really big coincidence if we met again.”

Yuen nodded slightly at one of his guards, who interposed himself between Chase and the group. “We have to take our seats. Enjoy the opera, Mr. Chase.”

“Nothing I like more. Oh, by the way, Sophia… nice shoes.”

She stopped, tipping her right shoe on its toe to show it off to him. “They are rather good, aren’t they?”

“Very high heels. What are they, five inches?” Sophia nodded. “They can’t be good for your feet. You really should take them off once you’re in your seat.”

“I didn’t realize you were a podiatrist, Mr. Chase,” said Yuen cuttingly. “Or are you more of a shoe fetishist?”

“Hey, they’re very handy when you need to get something off a high shelf.” Chase flashed him a grin. It wasn’t returned. “Anyway, nice to meet you again.”

“You too,” Sophia said quietly as she was led away.

From his seat on the auditorium’s main floor, Chase used his program to locate Yuen’s box. By hanging around in the lobby until just before the performance began, he had spotted two of the bodyguards who arrived with Yuen heading downstairs, apparently not opera fans. With luck that meant there were only two men in the box with Yuen and Sophia.

There were still the two goons in the corridor, but he was sure he could handle them when the time came.

It came roughly twenty minutes into the performance. He left his seat, earning annoyed tuts from the other people in his row as he squeezed past them, then headed for the lobby and went up the stairs. As he’d hoped, the theater staff manning the cordon had gone now that everybody was seated.

That just left the two armed guards.

Chase peered around the corner. They were stationed almost directly outside the entrance to Yuen’s box. One leaned against the wall by a fire hose on a large reel, looking bored out of his mind, while the other fidgeted and ran a finger around his shirt collar. Chase knew the feeling.

He unfastened his dinner jacket, then stepped into view.

Or rather, he staggered into view. The two guards straightened, watching him cautiously. As he got closer, he saw that both men had radios, coiled wires running down their necks from small earpieces.

“Ay up, lads!” Chase said in a loud, slurred voice as he approached. “Couldn’t ‘elp me out, could you? Think I’ve ‘ad a bit too much to drink, an’ I’ve got a bit lost. Lookin’ for the bogs, but all the signs are in Chinese!” He was only ten feet from them, six… “Can you point me int’ right direction?”

One of the guards extended a fat finger at a sign on the wall. Directions were given in Mandarin and English, as well as the international symbols for male and female. Chase squinted at it. “Oh, it is in English! Bloody ‘ell, must be more pissed than I thought. Thanks, lads.” He gave the two men a bleary-eyed smile. They grinned back-and Chase drove his fist into the nearest man’s face.

He fell backwards, out cold, a spray of blood radiating from his crushed nose. The other man gawped, then fumbled at his jacket. He barked a word in Chinese-

Chase leaped at him and body-slammed him against the wall. He clawed at the man’s jacket, snagging the transmitter under his lapel and tearing it loose. A wire popped free as he threw it onto the polished floor, at the same time delivering a crunching kidney punch with his other fist. The guard’s face contorted in pain.

But that didn’t stop him from smashing his fist against the side of Chase’s skull.

Chase staggered, this time for real. Filled with sudden fury, he threw himself shoulder-first against the guard’s chest, plowing him back against the wall with such force that it drove all the air from his lungs.

Before the man could even begin to catch his breath, Chase seized him in a headlock and hauled him back across the corridor. The guard’s head hit the reel of the fire hose with a bong! that left a dent in the metal. He instantly collapsed, unconscious.

But he’d gotten off a warning, however brief. Yuen’s other goons would burst out of the private box at any moment.

Chase grabbed the heavy brass nozzle of the fire hose and yanked it free of the reel, several feet of fabric-covered rubber playing out behind it. He swung it around his head, faster and faster, letting out more of the hose through his hand with each turn.

The door opened-

And the first of Yuen’s goons to emerge took the full force of the nozzle across his jaw. It hit so hard that he flipped over backwards in an involuntary somersault, blood and teeth arcing across the corridor.

Shouts from the lobby. Chase glanced back towards it. He could hear footsteps clattering up the stairs: more of Yuen’s bodyguards on the way.

And one more guy in the box.

Chase tilted his raised arm, still whirling the hose like a lasso but now bringing it down closer to floor level as the other guard vaulted over his fallen comrade, pulling a gun from his jacket-

The hose whipped around his ankles.

The man stumbled, throwing his arms out to keep his balance. Before he had a chance to bring up the gun, Chase charged at him, bending to ram into him at waist height and scoop him off his feet. Without slowing, he ran into the darkened box, seeing the surprised faces of Yuen and Sophia as he shot past them and threw the guard over the edge of the balcony.

The hose snaked past him at frightening speed, the bodyguard letting out a high-pitched shriek of fear…

The shriek was cut off abruptly as the hose snapped taut, vibrating like a plucked guitar string. Chase looked over the balcony. The bodyguard’s fall had been brought to a stop with his head inches above the auditorium’s main aisle. The opera continued, the performers and musicians unable to see what had happened through the glare of the lights-though Chase did hear a chorus of “Shhhh!” over the singing.

He turned to the occupants of the box. Sophia stared at him in amazement, while Yuen’s expression was one of disbelief and growing rage.

“Sophia, get up,” Chase ordered. She did. He hoisted her over his left shoulder in a fireman’s lift, realizing she still had her high heels on. Muttering a curse, he backed to the edge of the balcony. “Hold on to me, and whatever you do, don’t let go.”

She clung to him. “What are you going to-”

He wrapped the hose around his right arm, lifted it clear of the balcony railing-then vaulted over the edge.

The hose hissed as he slid down it, feeling the sharp heat of friction through his sleeve. Sophia yelped in shock as they dropped towards the floor, the bodyguard still dangling below-

Chase tightened his legs around the hose, using the guard’s upturned soles as a landing pad for his feet. He bent his knees to absorb the impact, then said, “Brace yourself!” as he unraveled his arm and jumped the last few feet to the ground. He felt Sophia’s stomach muscles tense against him just before the impact, body heat against his cheek.

Old memories …

They hit the floor. Sophia gasped. Chase looked up the aisle towards the rear exit, aware that the audience was gawking at him. Someone shouted from above. Yuen leaned over the balcony, pointing down at them. Chase gave him a cheeky salute, then ran up the aisle, Sophia still over his shoulder. Little coils of smoke wafted from his right sleeve. The black cloth had been scorched brown. He hoped Mei hadn’t paid a deposit on the tuxedo, as she wasn’t going to get it back.