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“Hope so.”
Both agents fell silent as three men exited each car and strode purposefully into the club. Judging from his thick build, one of the men was definitely Jin Huang, Xiao Long’s enforcer.
A staccato of angry voices immediately ensued, followed by crashing sounds.
“What’s going on?” Derek demanded.
“The Red Dragons are tearing up the place and making threats. ‘Stay away from our girls.’ ‘Our turf…hands off…’ That’s the gist of what I can hear over the uproar.” A pause. “The Black Tigers are denying any involvement. They’re accusing the Red Dragons of stirring up trouble to start a turf war.”
“Any mention of the Dai Los? The local businesses being extorted? The illegal import of the electronic devices or the women?”
“Nope. Nothing remotely coherent, much less specific. Just escalating threats, overturned tables, smashing plates and glasses.”
In the midst of the turmoil, there was a loud thud and a cry of pain, followed by another.
“Okay, things are getting dicey now. They’re throwing punches.”
“Yeah, that much I figured out.” Derek frowned as he heard a sharp warning shout, followed by a burst of light that illuminated the first-floor window. Forceful words, then a gunshot. “What the…?”
“A warning shot at the ceiling,” Jeff clarified. “And some torched drapes. Jin Huang is promising that next time, it will be the whole place.”
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As Jeff spoke, all six of Xiao Long’s men burst out of the club and jumped into their cars, where the drivers were waiting. They screeched off into the night. An instant later, a bunch of people who’d been gambling at the club—John Lee included—flew out the door, together with the girls who’d been serving them, probably in more ways than one.
Derek flipped open his cell and made a call to one of the unmarked NYPD cars. “Gleason? It was a warning shot. No one’s down. And the fire’s restricted to a pair of drapes. So it’s all yours. Have fun making their lives miserable. Keep me posted.”
He flipped off the phone. “Anything going on?”
“Lee took off, so I can’t hear anything inside the club,” Jeff reported. “But the last sounds I heard were Lo Ma’s gang members cursing the Red Dragons and putting out the fire.” He sat back. “My opinion? If any of the Black Tigers is killing Xiao Long’s girls, he’s doing it on his own. Lo Ma’s guys are pissed as hell. But they seem totally baffled.”
“Maybe it’s a rival gang trying to stir up trouble between the Red Dragons and the Black Tigers to strengthen their own position?”
“That’s what I was thinking.” Jeff watched as a couple of uniformed cops rushed into the club, weapons raised. “Let’s check it out when we get into the office tomorrow.”
“Agreed.” Derek glanced at his watch. “It’s three A.M. I doubt anything more’s going to happen tonight. So why don’t we eat the rest of the food I bought?”
Jeff arched a dubious brow. “It was cold before. By now, it’s probably freezing.”
“So? It’s still the best in Chinatown. I’ll take that over starving anytime.”
“You’ve got a point.”
A few blocks away, in an area devoid of streetlights, he sat in his car, waiting and sharpening his combat knife. He studied the girls as they scattered and headed in different directions.
It took him less than a minute to make his choice.
When she was isolated and far enough away from the others, he zipped up his jacket and pulled the thick down hood over his head, tugging it forward until his face was concealed. He fingered the coin in his pocket, made sure it was there. Then he seized his combat knife and stepped out into the night.
CHAPTER
NINE
DATE: 27 March
TIME: 0900 hours
Peace. After last night, I deserve it.
