“Up top. Look,” Tina whispered, pointing over Feng Mian’s shoulder at a darkened apartment window above the tiny storefront.
Out of the sixteen or so apartments they could see from the street, only one had a window slightly ajar. Although the lookout did their best to stay hidden, Feng Mian spotted the glint of the muzzle of a gun as it arced and looked for a target.
Feng Mian nodded and activated his shield. For a conduit, the white-blue light that sparked into life would be an active target. The barrier enveloped all four specters as they hesitated and waited for the barrage of gunshots.
Nothing came. The street remained silent, only the sheeting rain whispered on the cobbled streets.
Feng Mian glanced back at Christian, who ushered them forward with a simple gesture.
They walked to the tiny textile store, the window display filled wall-to-wall with the latest fabrics and threads, and even a few home-made woolen Chinese dragons. Inside, all was dark. They peered inside looking for movement but found nothing.
Feng Mian and his team passed through the glass and entered the store.
The whispering rain vanished instantly, and all that was left was a thick quiet. Feng Mian knew that quiet. It meant trouble. When the world held its breath, it could only do so for so long before it had to exhale.
“Nice place,” Bruno, a former tenth-dan karate tournament fighter who had fallen victim to a nasty heart attack in the summer of ’86, muttered. He had short, dark hair and a square jaw, and glanced around the room with a grim expression on his face. “Smells like my nana’s house in here.”
“Piss and dust?” Tina replied.
“You got it,” Bruno replied.
They broke out of their formation and checked the room. On the surface, there was no sign that something was amiss here, but then again, that was how criminals operated. They didn’t place flashy neon signs above their business stating, “Come in the back, we have guns and drugs and prisoners!”
Maisy, the third of their company, ran her finger along the top of a shelf and tsked. A clean white streak was left behind from the dust. “Ew, gross. I think we’re clear, though, folks.”
“That’s something, at least,” Tina confirmed. “If you don’t count the two dozen armed men scattered about the roofs.”
Bruno grinned and bumped his fists together. “You know what that means, though? Time for the party to begin. Right, Feng Mian?”
Feng Mian nodded. He had made it to a side door that opened onto a set of stairs leading both up and down. He ushered them through and sent them running up the stairs, and was about to follow them when he heard footsteps from below.
He lingered behind and melted into the shadows, waiting to see who it was.
* * *
Bruno outpaced the others with ease. Within a matter of seconds, he had sprinted up three flights of stairs.
He waited for the others when he reached the fourth. “You two head up and get to work.”
“What are you going to be doing?” Tina asked, a suspicious eyebrow raised.
“Taking out the scout, of course,” Bruno replied.
Tina looked at Maisy and scoffed. “Always have to play the macho man, don’t you?”
He nodded. “I am the man.”
Maisy shook her head. “A pig-headed man.”
Bruno winked. “Don’t pretend you don’t love it. Now, come on, the Berserker’s waiting.”
Bruno waited until the other two were out of sight before he melted into the apartment and got to work.
The apartment was covered in darkness. The smell of spices and incense filled the air. He snuck along the hallway, through to the living room, and gunned for the window, hoping that if he got his math right, he’d find the scout ready and waiting.
There was no one there.
Bruno moved to the window to get a better sense of where he was. From somewhere above, he heard the tell-tale pop of a pistol. A moment later, a body fell past his window, crashing to the pavement with a heavy thud.
Great work, girls. But where is the scout?
It didn’t matter at that point. Drawn by their fallen comrade, the rest of the gunmen were alerted and rushed to the corners of their respective buildings to get a better line of sight on their attackers. Another burst of fire and another body fell.
Son of a bitch. I’m missing all the action.
Bruno spun on his heels and instantly froze as he came face-to-face with a man aiming a rifle at his chest. He wore a mask over his mouth, and his body was shrouded in dark fatigues. The only splash of color on his person was his red hand wraps, which had been embossed with the emblem of a golden dragon. “You thought you could slip past us unnoticed?”
Bruno shrugged. “I had hoped.”
The man examined him. Another round of gunfire came from above, though this didn’t appear to faze the man. “You are putting yourself in a dangerous position, specter. Tell me. What would it be like to die twice?”
Bruno squared his feet and readied his stance. He cleared his mind and honed in on his years of training. “I think just the once is fine for me. Why didn’t you raise the alarm when you could see us?”
“An enemy caught off-guard is an easy enemy to defeat.”
Bruno nodded. “Funny. That was our plan, too.” His eyes flicked down to the rifle as he batted the muzzle of the gun to the side and shouted, “Surprise!”
Instinctively, the man pulled the trigger, and his bullets sent the window into an explosion of shards.
Bruno knocked the weapon out of the man’s hands with a swift follow-up punch and disarmed him. The man was ready, managing to block Bruno’s kick by crossing his arms over his body and planting his feet.
The man gritted his teeth and shouted at the top of his voice. “Now, men! Now!”
Bruno didn’t have the chance to look outside where the scouts on the rooftop began firing into the street where the SIA agents were hiding. They knew they were there, they had known the entire time and were just waiting to catch them off-guard.
Bruno raised his guard and waited to see what the man would do. The man threw two quick jabs, followed by a right hook. Bruno swept the hook aside and used the opening the man had left to return with his own jab. The man stumbled back, and Bruno took advantage of him being off-balance by delivering a kick to his knee.
The man avoided the kick and took a step back, moving closer to the wall. Bruno charged at the man, switching from defense to offense in a split second. He rushed the man, and the back of his knees caught on a sideboard, then buckled, and he hit the wall. Bruno took the opportunity to appropriate a large oil painting and smash it over his opponent’s head.
The canvas yielded, and the picture caught around his neck like ruffles on a Tudor collar. The man growled and raised both legs at once to kick at Bruno.
Bruno stumbled backward, and his foot hit something on the floor.
The gun.
Bruno picked up the weapon and aimed it at the man.
The man sneered. “Go ahead. See what good it’ll do you. The Dragon has many heads. Defeat one, another three will grow back.”
Bruno chuckled. “I think you’ll find that’s a hydra.”
The man raised an eyebrow in confusion. It was the last thing he ever did before his head exploded into a thousand tiny fragments.
* * *
Feng Mian held his breath and pressed himself against the wall.
It was a woman. Her footsteps were soft and her hair was long. It swept in a cascading ponytail down her back and paused just at the top of her thighs. She was beautiful, with pale skin, a small frame, and green eyes that seemed to penetrate the gloomy light of the stairwell. She wore a red kimono decorated with a large golden dragon.
She hummed to herself, a song that Feng Mian hadn’t heard in years, and he wondered where something so delicate could fit into all of this chaos. He knew a rose could grow through concrete, but this latest development caught him off-guard.
The woman pa
ssed him, her head stuck in her own thoughts. It was only when she reached the door to the textile shop that she flinched and snapped from her reverie.
Bullets were flying. The unmistakable pop of gunfire rattled from outside.
Her eyes widened, giving Feng Mian a detailed momentary glimpse at those emerald eyes before she sprinted hurriedly downstairs with her kimono sweeping behind her.
Feng Mian followed her.
Chapter Twelve
Chinatown, New York, USA
The stairs went farther down than Feng Mian had anticipated.
How many underground bunkers and apartments are there in this city? he wondered.
The woman showed no sign that she knew she was being followed, and soon the sounds of gunfire were left far behind. He followed the trail of her perfume, feeling the stirrings of lust within him for the first time in years.
The impossibility of such a thing drew Feng Mian onward.
The woman moved fast, and he moved with her until she reached the bottom of a final set of stairs where her progress was stalled by a thick steel door with a keypad by the handle.
Feng Mian stood next to her, his heart beating faster than he’d like. She tapped in a six-digit combination that made the lock click and ran inside.
Feng Mian paused and allowed her to leave. Things were eerily silent above him and he wasn’t sure if it was the distance or the boding of bad news for his team. He had a choice to make. Follow through the door, or turn back and help his team. He found himself wondering what Jennie would do in that situation.
He found that he had no answer to that question. Jennie truly was a mixed bag of tricks, and she had proven herself to be unpredictable in every situation. She had always yielded results, but if there was a method to her madness, he failed to see it.
Heart or head? Heart or head?
In the absence of the woman’s presence, Feng Mian found he was able to think clearly. He knew the way to the underground lair, and he knew the code. With his team to help him, they’d stand a better chance at getting inside.
Feng Mian headed up the stairs and back to the front of the store.
The din of gunfire shouldn’t have reassured him, but at least it told him that his people were still alive and fighting. He dashed out into the street and found himself standing next to the still body of one of the fallen scouts. He muttered a silent prayer of respect for the soon-to-be-spectral soul of his comrade. Knowing he needed to move fast, he picked up the imbued pistol, then aimed at the roofs and joined Christian and his team’s battle.
There were only a few of them left. On the roof, he could see the spectral glow of Tina, Maisy, and Bruno engaging in combat and bringing the enemy down. Christian and his team were scattered and ducked behind cars, hydrants, mailboxes, and anything that could shield them from the striking bullets. To Feng Mian’s dismay, he noted a couple of SIA agents face-down on the street corner.
Feng Mian fired off several shots and waited near the body of the fallen enemy. Soon his spectral form would rise, and that was when they’d need their control most of all.
“All clear!” Christian called as the final enemy dropped. “Into position!”
The agents worked fast, some scaling the fire escapes and others covering the bodies at street level. Within a matter of moments, specters began to rise from the fallen bodies and the SIA agents slapped their spectral handcuffs on their wrists, eliminating any further threat.
Feng Mian watched the specter rise beside him with a cold stare.
The specter looked confused, at first, then became aware of what had happened. He turned to Feng Mian and his eyes flickered to the gun in Feng Mian’s hand. “That’s mine—”
Feng Mian smashed him in the face with the butt of the gun, then caught his wrist in a deadlock.
Christian strode over to Feng Mian with a satisfied smile on his face. There was a graze on his forehead, but little other sign of injury. “Good work, Feng.”
Feng Mian nodded.
“Thought we lost you for a while there. Your spectral buddies were actively helping up on the roofs, and you were… Where were you exactly?”
Feng Mian told Christian about the steel door and the combination lock. He failed to include the part about the pretty woman.
Christian’s mistrustful glare melted a few degrees. “Good work. Maybe there is some hope for you, after all.”
Feng Mian’s jaw clenched.
Christian called out to the remaining SIA agents and specters, “Fall in, folks! Time to head underground and flush out the sewage. Ricky, Jarvis, you keep an eye on these pieces of trash and wait until the cleanup crew rolls in. The local authorities are likely going to get a call about this, and we need to be prepared to make this all disappear.”
A man and woman who looked as though they’d make a mean power couple in a Die Hard movie nodded and got to work.
Christian gathered the others to him and then addressed Feng Mian. “Okay, hound dog. Show us the way.”
Feng Mian lingered on Christian’s shit-eating grin, annoyance bubbling in his veins. He remained silent and melted into the store.
At least with Jennie, she made me feel like part of the team, not just some tool to be exploited for their own personal gain.
Feng Mian shook his head, reminding himself to remain cool and focus on his breathing.
We’re all on the same team here. It’s all about the end goal. Justice for mortals and specters alike.
* * *
The steel door clicked open and kicked the emergency lighting into action.
Another set of steps led them down into the dark. As they neared the bottom the light grew fainter, and by the time they turned a corner, the stairwell was in near-total darkness. Only a faint pink hue appeared from around another corner, and by the time they peeked around the bend, they saw where the light was coming from.
There was no door into another room. There was no secret wall or key code or anything traditional here. Instead, a beaded curtain hung limply from the top of an arch as the smell of incense burning filled their nostrils.
Christian stood beside Feng Mian, his SI goggles struggling to adjust to the dim light, yet a smile grew on his face. “Well, this I was not expecting.”
Beyond the beads was a large, plush lounge filled almost wall to wall with bean bags and couches of varying shapes, sizes, and colors. The walls were lit by red-filtered lights, and along the entirety of one wall was a long, narrow trough lit with fire. Men and women wandered around the lounge, some engaged in conversation, others lying seductively on the couches, nearly all with drinks in their hands and masks on their faces.
They were animal masks, mostly made of leather. They covered the entirety of their features, which was in stark contrast to the fact that they were all naked from the waist up. Servers wandered around with trays of hors d'oeuvres, and a strange, almost hypnotic music was playing from somewhere they could not see.
“In all my long history of defending the people, I can’t say I’ve ever had to barge into an orgy,” Christian mumbled. He winked at his comrade, standing behind. “Perks of the job, eh?”
The man gave a faint chuckle, yet the moment Christian turned away, the laughter faded.
Christian tucked back against the wall and held up three fingers to his crew, the pre-arranged sign for specters to investigate ahead of the mortals.
Feng Mian caught the other specters’ glances and gave an internal sigh. He nodded and they moved to explore the room, Bruno looking much more eager than Maisy, although Tina appeared to be more enthusiastic than them both.
Feng Mian didn’t know what to call what he was seeing. It wasn’t exactly an orgy, as the only romance involved appeared in the form of a strange trio in the corner who were taking it in turns to share kisses. Yet, there was definitely a tension in the room that many could have called erotic.
They slalomed through people and around the odd assortment of chairs, taking note of the stitched golden dragons on the p
illows, the trays, the tapestries on the wall, and pretty much everywhere they looked.
In the far corner, the room narrowed into a corridor and opened into a secondary lounge. Feng Mian and the specters wandered through and were surprised to see that this room was just as full.
A server with a tray of sliders passed Bruno. He looked longingly at the tray and licked his lips. “Man, those look good.”
Maisy turned up her nose. “They’re green. The buns are green.”
“Probably just infused with wasabi.” Bruno sighed. “Man, I miss food.”
“Look,” Tina hissed, drawing their attention to a door at the far side of the room guarded by two men who could not have looked more out of place at the party. Two bouncers, both of them goliaths in suits, wearing shades and earpieces. “Suspicious, much?”
Feng Mian nodded.
Maisy rubbed her hands together. “We’ll never know for sure unless we go in and have a peek. Shall we do some investigating?”
They sneaked closer to the door and stopped when the bouncers’ heads turned toward them.
Conduits.
They faced off, neither party doing anything other than staring. Feng Mian wondered what they were guarding inside, hoping that it would be as simple as them opening the door and finding the Dragon, but knowing that that wouldn’t likely be the case.
“Get the others,” Feng Mian muttered. “We’re going to need them.”
They backed away slowly, the bouncers’ eyes following them until they were out of sight.
Christian listened as they shared the details of what they’d discovered. “Okay. If we’re going to do this, we need to be swift. Most of them don’t know we’re here, correct?”
“No other conduits detected,” Tina confirmed.
Agents, Agreements and Aggravations: In Her Paranormal Majesty’s Secret Service™ Book Three Page 10
