Beautiful Dragons: A Thriller

by Matthew James

  “The people!” Violet argued. “We can’t let him blow here!”

  Roman knew she was right.

  “We have another problem,” Willy added from the now open door. The plaster next to her head exploded. The gunshots came from down the hall. It appeared that the men here had more on the way.

  Willy threw the door shut and locked it again, running back into the room. “Now what?”

  Roman looked past Violet and saw the view beyond. “There!” He reached down and grabbed Yao. “Help me with our friend.”

  Willy didn’t argue, helping Roman get the living bomb to his feet. Together, they led Yao to the sliding-glass door and threw him through it. Next, they hoisted him up as Roman glanced back at Violet. The woman nodded, knowing it was the only way to save the residents of the apartment building. She rushed forward and helped.

  Yao screamed the entire time, but Roman, Willy, and Violet lifted and pushed him from his balcony. As soon as he disappeared from sight, they dove away. Within seconds they all got hit with the man’s concussive blast. Glass shattered everywhere, but thankfully, the building was spared for the most part.

  Multiple impacts rocked the front door. They needed to leave.

  “Out we go,” Roman said, climbing over the railing.

  “You’re kidding me?” Willy asked. She shook her head but followed Roman anyway. Violet was the last to make it over, waiting for Roman and Willy to descend another level before adding her weight too.

  She was still on the ninth, Willy the eighth, and Roman the seventh. Roman was going to move down to the next floor but stopped when his foot found only air. The railing was gone, destroyed by Yao’s suicidal self.

  “Party stops here!” Roman shouted, swinging himself onto the mostly intact balcony. His heels barely made it, but he threw his weight forward and landed hard on his hands and knees, barely missing an indiscernible chunk of Yao.

  Willy was next, needing help from him. He reached out and snagged her belt, yanking her to safety. Leaning out into emptiness, Roman looked up just in time to see two machine guns fire into his line of sight. Thankfully, Violet was already moving, diving onto the eighth-floor balcony.

  “Keep moving, Violet!” Roman yelled. “Back into the hallways!”

  He and Willy leapt into motion and stepped through the ruined rear wall of the apartment. Luckily, no one was home when the blast occurred, and they had a straight shot to the front door. He opened it slowly and checked before moving again. Seeing nothing, Roman headed back to the stairs. Willy was right behind him, gun drawn and at the low-ready.

  He had reflexively done the same.

  “What about Violet?” Willy asked as they headed down.

  “She’ll have to take care of herself,” Roman replied. “Besides, if we don’t get to the car first, we’re dead either way.” He looked back. “We can’t outrun bullets.”

  He didn’t wait for a reply. He just kept moving, taking the stairs two or three at a time. While he hated leaving a teammate behind, he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Violet could survive. He knew her type. A fight like this would only slow her down, not take her out.

  It wasn’t until bullets started pinging off the stairwell around them that Roman realized he might have underestimated the situation. Violet was only a floor below the main force, and he had no idea if she had even made it out of the apartment before meeting them head-on.

  “Roman, stop!” Willy yelled, pulling on his jacket sleeve. They both ducked into the fourth-floor hallway, breathing hard.

  “What!” he shouted, annoyed.

  “We need to go back and help her.”

  “I said she can handle her—”

  “What if it was me back there?” Willy asked. “Would you leave me behind to fend for myself?”

  “But it’s not you!” Roman snapped back, checking his ammo. “She isn’t you.”

  “Does it matter?”

  He knew it didn’t. At the moment, Violet was just an armed civilian in need of help. Only they knew of her abilities. It shouldn’t have mattered, though. Anyone who needed help should get it.

  And she was here because of him. He brought her. She could’ve been back at the warehouse, safe from the gunmen here.

  “Shit, Willy, fine!” He looked down the hall. “We’ll take the elevator up to ten and work our way down from there.” He got moving. “Maybe we can catch ’em with their pants down.”

  * * *

  Concrete burst and the metal railing pinged in response as a barrage of bullets tore into each. Violet miraculously made it onto the eighth floor before the men overhead opened fire on her position. Not wasting any time, she used the barrel of her gun like a club and shattered the sliding-glass door, quickly leaping through as the glass fell. A family of five was huddled in the kitchen as she passed, heading for the front door.

  “Lock it behind me,” she ordered, opening it carefully. Checking both directions, Violet slammed it shut and ran for the stairs. She kept her gun drawn as she got closer, expecting company.

  And she was right.

  Hearing voices, she sped up and continued past the centrally located stairwell, pumping four shots into two different, stunned men. As they fell, she unloaded the rest of her magazine into them for good measure.

  Continuing her aggressive assault, she descended the flight in two large leaps, quickly jumping to the landing between levels. She stumbled hard, her legs almost completely gone now. They had yet to fully recovered from the night before.

  “Keep moving,” she told herself, expelling her empty magazine.

  A fresh one had replaced it by the time she reached the seventh floor. The stairs were her only option at the moment, and she needed to keep moving and stay ahead of the people chasing her.

  Glancing over her shoulder, Violet slammed into another person as he came rushing up the stairs. They collided, and it took each of them a second to realize that the other was the enemy.

  The Gilded Blade had people on the lower levels too.

  Violet was the first to react, elbowing the larger man in the face. She broke his nose with the blow and caused him to rock backward. Seeing an opportunity, she jumped onto his chest and added her weight to his already teetering form. Together they fell down the second half of the flight, landing hard. Taking all of the bruising fall, the gunman wheezed from the impact, losing his weapon in the process.

  Violet reached for her newest weapon, yanking it free from her belt. The cattle prod quickly ignited, and she shoved the tip right into the man’s left eye. Violet didn’t check to see if he was dead or not, figuring he was, and took his felled pistol and ran. She left the short-range weapon behind, opting for another gun instead. The altercation, although brief, had slowed her escape and allowed her pursuers to catch up. They were now a floor above her—maybe less.

  It was less.

  Bullets impacted the concrete wall beside her, forcing her to cover her head and not fire back. The sixth floor went by in a blur, but before she could feel good about her progress, her legs gave out. Buckling on the fifth floor, she was sent tumbling out of the stairwell, and into the closest apartment door.

  Violet’s head hit hard, dazing her some.

  A voice behind the door called out, asking who was there. Violet responded by sending a dozen bullets, six from each gun, up the stairs. The cacophony caused the unseen speaker to shriek in fright behind her.

  Two more men went down, one dying for sure. The other shooter dove away, and Violet was unsure whether she hit him or not. More gunfire erupted, but it wasn’t coming from anywhere on her floor. It was coming from the levels above her head.

  Who’s up there?

  Roman and Willy should be at ground level by now. It couldn’t be them. Not seeing anyone else coming, Violet took the moment she had to catch her breath, keeping one of the weapons trained on the stairwell.

  More gunshots echoed through the building, and a bloodied body came tumbling down the flight of stairs in front of
her. It hit with a wet thwap and came to a rest a foot from her boots.

  Then, as casual as ever, Roman and Willy came strolling down the stairs, reloading their spent weapons. They both smiled when they saw the very-much-alive Violet. Still crumpled against the apartment door, Violet laughed and tried to get up, failing in the attempt. Willy came to her rescue as Roman kept watch.

  Finally, on her feet, Violet nodded her thanks, and the three of them decided to use the elevator. Shambling in, Violet leaned against the rear wall and sighed with relief, knowing that she probably wouldn’t have made it on her own.

  Roman and Willy had quickly become a team she could trust. They went out of their way to help her, doubling back up behind the gunmen above. It was a genius move. There was no way the enemy would see their quarry coming, and the elevators wouldn’t be stopping as it went higher and higher. The hunted turned into hunters, and they pushed through whoever was left.

  “How…did they find…Yao?” Violet asked, breathing hard.

  “Not sure,” Roman replied, looking at Willy.

  “They must’ve had help from someone,” she said. “We tracked Yao because, well, we can. Our tech is pretty damn advanced.” She bit her lip. “Someone on the inside has connections with the Gilded Blade.”

  “Madame,” Violet said a matter-of-factly. “She’s rumored to have government ties.”

  “Could be,” Roman said as the elevator dinged their arrival on the first floor. All three of them snapped up their weapons just in time to scare an elderly woman with an armful of groceries.

  “Gah!” she shouted, dropping them.

  Roman rushed forward, holstering his gun. “Sorry, ma’am,” he said, helping her. Once she settled down, Roman added, “Oh, you may want to call your building manager. Someone made an awful mess up there.”

  She only nodded silently, eyes wide as the elevator doors slid shut. Running again, the three of them piled into their SUV and tore down the street before anyone of relevance showed up. While official government agents, Roman and Willy still preferred to stay out of the limelight…especially with someone like Violet around.

  Zigzagging through the city, Willy eventually slowed down, not wanting to draw any more attention their way. “So,” she said, “where to now?”

  “I know a place,” Violet said, thinking of home. “We’ll be safe there.”

  “Are you sure?” Roman asked.

  She nodded. “It’s the only safe place I know.”

  10

  The House of Dragons

  It took them over an hour to get there and Violet had assured them that no one would find them. If they needed to lay low for a while, there was no better place, in her opinion.

  Roman was in awe of the beauty of the estate—and that’s what it was—an estate. The grounds were huge and framed by picturesque, rolling hills. The lawn was flawless as were the trees and bushes. He had never heard of the place before and it didn’t surprise him. Like back in the States, there were hidden gems like this everywhere. You just needed to know where to look.

  Or have access to them.

  The front gate was made of wood and was massive. It stood an impressive twenty feet tall—the entire fence line did according to Violet. Unless you had an extension ladder or maybe a drone, you’d never have the opportunity to see the other side of the ultra-private residence.

  “The Beautiful Dragons have lived here for over two hundred years,” Violet explained as they pulled through. All she had to do was stick her face out her window, and the gates immediately started to open. “The land was donated by an unnamed benefactor and made into the House of Dragons. This is where my sisters and I communed and trained when we weren’t ‘working.’”

  Roman understood what ‘working’ meant. It meant ‘killing.’

  Willy kept the SUV moving slowly, giving Roman and her every opportunity to check out the place. The gate sat on the western edge of the property, and a lake could be seen to the north, calm and clear. The driveway was long and wound through a tranquil rock garden the likes of which Roman had never seen. And, of course, there were statues of dragons everywhere. Some were small. Some were enormous.

  Violet caught him looking. “They are here to protect us, guarding those that use their name.”

  The home was next…and it was unbelievable.

  “Is it a Buddhist temple?” Roman asked.

  “Once, perhaps,” Violet replied. “There are few records of its completion and prior use. Some say it’s a thousand years old. The history of it is locked away for security reasons. The less we know about this place, the better of a chance it has of staying hidden if one of us were captured.” She stared vacantly out her window. “Ms. Cho is what you would call…paranoid.”

  “Ms. Cho?” Roman asked, watching Violet in his seat’s vanity mirror.

  “She’s our keeper—an advisor of sorts,” Violet explained. “She’s the only one here that isn’t an active field operative. When a new keeper is selected, they are usually someone with profound connections throughout the world and someone comfortable with leaving that same world behind for our cause. They’re also comfortable with killing for a living. Once, even a former Dragon became the Keeper.”

  “You said, ‘training,’” Willy said, “Ms. Cho trains you?”

  “No, but, yes… Ms. Cho is more than she seems for sure but the Dragons teach each other. As the eldest of us, I was given the mantle of Master.”

  “Master Dragon,” Roman mumbled staring at the home.

  Like most temples in the region, the place’s architecture “screamed” feudal Japan, reminding Roman of one he visited in Kyoto a few years back.

  Kiyomizu-dera, he thought, recalling the name of the protected UNESCO site. The entire landscape belonged in that era, looking hundreds of years old. The home’s roof even had the classic slopes and peaks you’d expect to see, including a dragon ornamenting each tip.

  He had a feeling that the interior was anything but ancient, though. The security system at the gate proved that modern technology was also at play here. Who knew what else they had within the walls of the seemingly non-threatening property?

  Everyone has their secrets.

  The driveway ended at a large roundabout that encircled a grand fountain of, you guessed it, dragons. There were seven of them, each spewing water that clearly symbolized fire. They all had unique characteristics too. None were the same, individual in many ways.

  But they still share some like traits…like a family.

  Stopping the car, they all exited at once, seeing a gray-haired woman waiting for them at the top of the dozen, or so, steps to the front door. She was wearing a traditional kimono and slippers and had her hair cut short like Violet’s was now. She stood straight, arms crossed, hands hidden within her sleeves.

  As Violet led them up the stairs, the lady who must’ve been Ms. Cho, only bowed slightly. She didn’t speak or emote her feelings at seeing the assassin and her companions.

  Conversing in Japanese, Violet returned the bow and talked about her sisters falling in battle. When she looked up at the elder keeper, Violet’s eyes were wet with tears. She had held it together for the most part but was quickly coming unglued. Roman wasn’t sure if it was normal for them to show emotion in front of their advisor. Either way, Ms. Cho didn’t react negatively to the human display.

  “Come,” she said in clipped English, motioning to the door. “We have much to discuss.”

  Last to enter, Roman looked out over the front yard again, his paranoia on high alert. Something about the estate seemed too good to be true. It was too perfect to be the den of killers. Or it was his tired mind and body telling him to get an alcoholic beverage and settle in for the night. He pulled out his phone and saw he had no signal.

  “That will not work here,” Ms. Cho said, startling him. “We take great care in our privacy. There is no contact with anyone beyond our property line.”

  He turned and bowed in respect to the woman who immediat
ely returned it. Not wanting an argument, he thanked her for her hospitality in Japanese, getting a smile as he spoke.

  “I can see why she likes you, Mr...”

  “Roman Shepard,” he quickly answered, tripping on the door’s threshold. He didn’t know what to say next.

  “When you have known Violet as long as I have, Mr. Shepard, you pick up on a thing or two.”

  Not sure if he should be impressed or disturbed by Ms. Cho’s ability to read people, Roman silently entered the home and was stunned by the ornate beauty it held within. Then, he thought back to how easily he had glossed over the whole “see why she likes you” comment.

  Violet likes me?

  “I have been here for over twenty-five years,” Ms. Cho said, closing the door. The deadbolt was loud and foreboding, echoing through the grand space. It gave Roman the chills. “I have seen girls come and go,” her face filled with sorrow, “but I have never seen so many lost at one time.”

  “Violet was lucky,” Roman said, seeing he was alone with the Keeper of the House. “We found her by accident and dragged her to safety.”

  “And I thank you for that.”

  He shrugged. “Just doin’ my job, ma’am.” He quickly informed the woman that he and his partner were agents working for the US government. He owed her that much. “And don’t worry…” he looked around, “this place ain’t goin’ in any of my reports. Your secret is safe with us.”

  Ms. Cho bowed again and motioned for him to sit. She sat across from him, in an identical leather chair. “Violet has been with me for most of my tenure here. She is as tough as it gets. She is also the most caring of all the Dragons I’ve ever had.”

  “She said she spent a few years on the lamb,” Roman said, wanting more information about the purple-haired killer. Maybe he did like her?

  Ms. Cho nodded. “Her turmoil came from the lack of love in her young life. I think that is why she goes out of her way to make sure that other young girls never feel unwanted…or used.”

  “She mentioned a girl named Ruby.”