by Mike Morris
The debate about what to do was equally fierce. Ziyi was all for just walking into the Imperial Residence.
"We'll be shot before we get within a hundred yards of the place," Wing had protested.
"I can get us in," replied Ziyi.
"What? Just walk in through the front door?" said Wing, not believing what he was hearing.
"No. There's a hidden entrance on Level Two Ten. It'll open on my retina scan," said Ziyi. "We used to use it to get in and out of the Residence without the press watching and waiting."
"They'll have shut off any access from that," said Song.
"Not if they're expecting Xi Lin to return. She had my eyes after all," said Ziyi.
Song smiled. "Something in our favour at last. Let's do it."
"Wait. Hold on a minute. We can't just walk in," said Wing. "The place will be crawling with troops — and not just cops — there's going to be some serious meked up, crazy motherfuckers in there. I thought we were just going to save Xiao. Not commit suicide."
"We have to stop Deng," replied Song.
"Then let's get a sniper rifle and shoot him from a nice safe distance," he said. "Or let's copy the Americans and just bomb the bastard."
In the end, Wing had been outvoted two to one — if they'd even put it to the vote. Lori had given them the keys to her car and the three of them had set off for the Residence.
Ziyi inched forward in her seat as the car turned on to a side street on level Two Ten. "There. You see the red door?" She pointed to a spot half way down the street.
The door was there all right, squashed between buildings. So were two guards. Wing's mouth went dry and his breathing raced in time with his heart. He couldn't afford another panic attack — he'd shamed himself enough in the last twenty-four hours — but there was a good chance he was in the last minutes of his life.
"Pull up on the right," said Ziyi. How she was so calm he had no idea.
Wing held the extra vial of MTC he'd taken from the dead trooper earlier. He wasn't even aware he'd taken it out of his pocket, but there it was all the same. All the courage he needed. As Song parked the car, he stabbed the vial into his thigh. The rush hit him immediately. He gritted his teeth as he tried to ride the wave and stop it from overpowering him. With no injuries to mask, Wing could feel the drugs strengthening every part of him, making him almost bulletproof. He felt sorry for who ever they were going to find in the Residence. They were going to get torn apart when he got his hands on them. They shouldn't have fucked with him.
He dropped the empty vial into the gutter as he stepped out into the street. Ziyi was already out and headed over to the guards as if she didn't have a care in the world. They recognised her immediately, snapping to attention as they did so. Ziyi returned their salutes by knocking them both to the ground in the time it took to blink. The woman was like a machine in the way she worked.
Wing and Song ran over and helped dragged the bodies back to the car.
"They dead?" asked Wing as they loaded them in to the trunk.
"No," replied Ziyi. "I will not kill anyone if they are only guilty of following orders."
"Doubt we'll have that luxury inside," replied Song. "Showing mercy could get us killed."
Wing tried not to laugh. He knew it was the MTC that had him all jacked up but considering all of them wore holsters on their hips and Lori had supplied enough ammunition to make even Song happy, he found talk of mercy just a little bit funny. It'd not stopped either of the women from taking a sword as well. The Heavens only knew what else they'd packed away. "I just want to go on record and say I really don't want to die in there."
A scowl crossed Ziyi's face. "I'm aware of what we need to do — stopping Deng and saving Xiao is all that matters. I'll do what is necessary."
"Hey, Wing," said Song. "You can stay with the car if you want. There's no shame in staying behind. We've been trained for this — you haven't."
Wing marched to the door, ignoring Song, pissed off that she even suggested he drop out. Especially after everything they'd been through. "I've already told you I'm coming with you."
Ziyi placed her eye over the scanner. The locks disengaged and the door opened. They were about to step inside the elevator when Ziyi suddenly stopped.
"What's wrong?" asked Wing.
"I've got strong reading on Xiao's life stats. And his GPS locator," said Ziyi, her eyelids closed, but fluttering.
"And?" said Song.
"He's in the Residence, Eastern wing," replied Ziyi. "Life signs are strong... but slightly different from before. His heart rate is slower than normal but healthy."
"Come on then," said Wing. "They're both here. Let's sort this shit out." He charged into the elevator without waiting for the others. Song exchanged a look with Ziyi and then followed him in. Ziyi was the last to enter.
"We take Xiao and Deng alive. Anyone else is acceptable collateral damage." Ziyi pressed the button for the top floor. "We move quickly and quietly. Song, you and I will take the lead. Wing, keep back."
"Why?" asked Wing, bouncing on his toes. "I can..."
Ziyi held up a hand to silence him. "We need you to be our back up when things go noisy. There'll be a guard on either side of the elevator door. Once we've dealt with them, take one of their assault rifles — and just be ready. Clear?"
Song drew her sword. ""For the Emperor. For the Empire."
"For the Emperor. For the Empire," said Ziyi, her blade light in her hand.
"For the Emperor. For the Empire," said Wing with a sigh.
The elevator announced its arrival in the Residence with a ping. The doors slid open and Song went left and Ziyi moved to the right. Two bodies slumped to the floor before Wing had exited the elevator. The guards' blood blossomed out from under them like black flowers across the white marble floor. Wing tried not to look as he took a rifle for his own.
The interior of the Residence was softly lit, giving the impression of a building asleep. Even still, there was no hiding the magnificence of the old colonial building, built when Hong Kong was first lost to an old world power in 1851. He could feel the history seeping from its walls with each step he took.
Song and Ziyi took off like the Goddesses of Death and War, slipping from shadow to shadow. They slit throats and punctured lungs, pierced hearts and sliced guts. There was nothing for Wing to do except follow the trail of corpses left in their wake.
As they approached the East wing of the building, the sound of a voice broke the silence. The voice. It stopped him dead in his tracks. It took a second for the drugs to overwhelm the fear. It came from the old study if Wing remembered right.
"Prepare statements for the press in the morning — with the confessions."
"Yes, your eminence," said a second voice. Probably Lok. It took all Wing's control not to push past Ziyi and go barging in straight away. The fuckers deserved some payback after what they did to him — what they put him through. He hooked his finger around the trigger of the assault rifle. Couldn't believe how much he wanted to go in shooting.
Song gave him a look as if she could read his mind "Alive," she whispered.
Ziyi peered through a crack in the door. She indicated there were two people inside the room with the fingers of her right hand. She sheathed her sword and drew her pistol. Song did likewise. Wing gripped the assault rifle tighter and checked the safety was off.
Ziyi kicked the door open and they entered with maximum speed and aggression.
"Put your hands above your heads," ordered Ziyi.
The First Minister was with Lok, and despite the drugs, Wing felt another tug of fear at seeing the man behind the voice, who so happily tortured and all but killed him earlier. "Don't fucking move! So much as twitch and I'll shoot you, you mother-fuckers," he screamed, pumping himself up.
Lok merely looked amused. "Do I not move or put my hands in the air?"
"Don't get fucking wise," said Song, closing in on Lok. She held her pistol in a rock-steady, two-handed grip. The wo
man had nerves of steel compared to the jitters running through Wing. He just wanted to start shooting and put the bastard down. It was the least the fucker deserved.
Deng already had his hands up. "Still not dead Agent Choi? I seem to keep underestimating you."
"Where's Xiao?" demanded Ziyi.
Deng glanced up. "In his room. Asleep. Safe. Under my control."
"Fucking bastard," said Wing, taking his eyes off Lok. "It was all your doing in the first place."
"Ah. Well, yes. That I have to agree with," said Deng. "Just three loose ends to tie up." The First Minister gave the barest of nods to Lok.
Wing turned his head in time to see Lok lower his hands. The bodyguard clenched his fists, jerked his wrists up and began firing from imbedded guns in his arms. Song went down in the hail of bullets. Her sword flew from her hand as she fell, spinning through the air and clattering into the far corner of the room. Lok pivoted towards Wing, pumping bullets as he moved. Wing pulled his trigger in return, but his shots bounced off the bodyguard's torso, like rain on steel. Still he kept firing, his mind a cocktail of MTC and fear. One of his bullets would put the bastard down.
Suddenly his legs went from under him. He hit the ground hard, tangling up with Ziyi. She'd slid into the back of him, knocking him to the floor, and behind the cover of a sofa, as rounds zipped past overhead.
"Keep them busy," said Ziyi. "I'm going to get Xiao."
"Me? How?" said Wing but she was off and running, through the door and back into the darkness of the Residence, chased every step of the way by Lok's bullets.
Wing hugged his rifle tight to his chest. He tried to see where Song lay without any luck. But after the way she'd gone down, he knew he couldn't count on her for help this time.
He should've stayed in the fucking car.
Lok's guns suddenly went silent.
"Make sure the boy's dead, then go after Ziyi. No mistakes this time," ordered Deng.
Wing screwed his eyes shut, cursed himself for not having the sense to run away when he could. He then counted to three, and popped up out of cover, screaming for all his worth as he fired.
29
Ziyi
Ziyi raced up the stairs to Xiao's bedroom. Gunfire roared behind her but her mind was focused on what lay ahead. What had Deng done to Xiao? Drugs? Mek? Whatever it was, she'd deal with it. She just had to get him out of the Residence and out of Deng's hands.
As she turned into the corridor leading to his bedroom, she saw Xiao appear, half naked, at the door.
"Ziyi? What's happening?" he shouted.
"Get inside, your Highness. I've come to rescue you," said Ziyi.
Xiao stepped back. "Rescue me? I've just been rescued. Where's Deng?"
Ziyi pushed back into his room and locked the door. "Sir, Deng's behind everything — with Rui. They're staging a coup."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Xiao staggered back. Shock and horror flashed across his face. "And what the hell happened to you?" He reached out to touch her face. "Those scars. You look dreadful."
"There's not time now, Sir. You need to get dressed. We've got to get out of here. My friends are covering for us at the moment but I don't know how long they'll last." She could barely hear the gunfight downstairs through the bedroom door but she didn't have too much faith in poor Wing, even if he was jacked up on MTC.
Xiao turned from her and walked over to the window. He gazed out over the city, glowing against the night sky. Somewhere in the distance, storm clouds gathered. "I love this city," said Xiao.
"Sir, I'm not sure you understand — your life is in danger if we stay here."
"Did you know Hong Kong was once the heart of the old Empire? Emperor Huaizong in the Song Dynasty ruled from here in 1276." He pointed over the harbour, as if he had not a care in the world. "He had his court over in Kowloon. Then the British saw this place as their foothold from which to conquer Asia. There's power in this city."
"Sir, we have to..."
"Come here, Ziyi. I wanted to show you something," said Xiao, cutting her off.
She walked over, scared at what Deng had done to the heir. He didn't seem right. She was also painfully aware of the silence falling over the Residence. Someone had won the battle downstairs. She doubted it was Wing. Time was running out.
Xiao slipped his arm around her shoulder, pulled her close to the window. "Ziyi, you've got to stop calling me 'Sir' or 'Your Highness'. The Heavens know I don't deserve it."
"We don't have time..." began Ziyi but Xiao smashed her head against the glass. Her legs nearly went from under her, more from shock than pain. Blood poured from her nose and lip as he pummelled her head again into the window. She staggered under the assault. He grabbed her by her hair and flung her across the room.
She rolled to her feet, ready to protect herself, but with no idea what else to do. What had they done to him? His strength was like pure mek, but Xiao had never had any enhancements.
"I must admit I didn't think I was going to get this opportunity, little sister," said Xiao.
"Little sister?" repeated Ziyi. Only one person called her that. Suddenly everything made sense. "Rui."
The man who looked like Xiao laughed. "Bingo, little sister. Bingo." His face twitched. Bones moved as his features changed, and Xiao became Rui. Even his scar was back.
"Where's Xiao?" She had to ask, even though the answer was obvious.
"The real one? Dead. Incinerated. Dust in the wind. Not that the world will ever know. Instead, they'll see me as him, ready to take over from the Emperor — an old man, who won't live forever."
Rui's words wounded her very soul. She'd failed. Tears threatened but she couldn't give into the despair growing within.
He laughed, enjoying her discomfort. "Turns out it was rather easy. It was what I was born to do. A gift from my real father."
"Who...? Deng?"
He gave her a small bow in acknowledgement. "Tonight has been a long time in the making, little sister," said Rui, adopting a Praying Mantis position. "Since before I was even a glint in his eye. This is my destiny."
"Not while I'm alive," replied Ziyi. She unsheathed her sword and flowed into Flying Crane, ready for the fight that was to come.
"Let's fix that," he replied. A blade zipped out from his wrist with the slightest of flicks. "I've always wanted to fight you."
So Rui had weaponised mek as well as Xi Lin. Ziyi tried not to think about what other enhancements he might have as she stepped back into the centre of the room, away from the furniture. "You'll find I'm not some cheap whore who'll just scratch your face."
He touched the scar on his cheek and smiled. "We'll see, little sister." Rui raised his sword arm into an overhead Viper strike position.
Ziyi slipped her left foot back, turning sideways to limit his target opportunity. She brought her own blade up parallel to her face. Filled her lungs with oxygen. Let the adrenaline flood her body. She watched Rui's eyes for the first sign he'd attack.
There was a slight twitch, a flare of a nostril then Rui leapt forward, screaming in rage. The blade arced down, a streak of silver. Ziyi stepped into the attack, brought her own blade up and steel rang against steel. Rui chopped down three times in quick succession, stepping forward with each blow, but Ziyi blocked the first two, but the last one gashed her arm. She struck next, aiming to slice his stomach from spleen to kidney, only to find Rui's blade in the way.
They danced across the room, trading blows. She kicked out, trying to swipe his legs from under him but Rui skipped over the move, slashing back as he did so. Ziyi, overextended, cried out as the blade sliced across her back. She spun back around, ignoring the hot wet sensation creeping down her spine, and circled once more, watching Rui.
"Does that smart, little sister?" said Rui, grinning like a wolf. "Come let's end this charade once and for all. Let me put you out of your misery." He attacked low, cutting her stomach before she could leap out of the way. It was deep, right down to the mek, and more blood
flowed.
"Three points to me," said Rui.
Ziyi let her blade reply for her, darting in and nicking Rui's thigh before he could move way. She smiled as he smeared blood over his trouser leg checking the wound.
"Just another whore's claw," he said. He ran at her, face contorted in anger and launched into a flying crane strike. Ziyi swatted his blade to one side as he passed, and kicked out, knocking him into a mahogany side table, shattering a ten thousand year old vase in the process.
He was back on his feet in an instant.
After another flurry of strikes, Rui stepped back, breathing heavily, and pulled out a small, square device from his pocket. "Wasn't going to use Win Li's gift, but you've not got the sense to die quickly."
Ziyi felt a shiver run down her spine. She hadn't forgotten the paralysis Rui had inflicted on her in Aberdeen. All it had taken was one touch. Rui smiled, as if he were reading her mind.
Her shifu had told her that you could discover everything there was to know about a person in the way they fight. Ziyi's weakness had always been her fear of failure driving her commitment to perfection. Xi Lin had been all fury, her desire to destroy overriding everything else. Rui's weakness was his confidence. He believed everyone else was beneath him. He didn't dedicate hours a day to training like Ziyi did, because he didn't think he had too. He'd won every fight he'd ever had quickly, with precise brutality. But, with every second the fight went on, with every blow blocked and with each failed hit, Ziyi could see that confidence crumble. His need of the device was merely proof of that.
However, Ziyi was different too. There was no longer any fear of failing Xiao or letting down the Empire. Rui had freed her of that. Her reluctance to take lives was gone. Justice demanded she kill him -- her own survival no longer mattered.
