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The rain beat down on the roof of his Mitsubishi sedan, a Lancer Evolution VII in a chilling Midnight blue finish, drowning out the radio, tuned to an all news station. His name was Vincent Wei, a young inspector with the HKPD and all around nice guy… until they ruined his life. Victor killed the engine, putting an end to the boring news, and checked up on his equipment, located in the back trunk, after he put on his surgeon’s gloves.

He climbed into the backseat and opened the large duffel bag behind the driver’s seat. He smiled, thinking to himself, They’ll never know what hit them, as his hand caressed the twelve pounds of C4 explosive.

He jostled the bag gently to better balance it and set off with determined strides across the street to the “Blue Lotus”, a seedy bar that attracted the dregs of society. Most of the vermin were hired by the Triads, another name for the Chinese mafia. This faction was new and hadn’t earned their name yet.

Vincent bent his head to keep the rain from his eyes; he needed clear vision for this particular undertaking. Wang Zhou would be in there, according to the latest surveillance and Vincent had a score to settle with Zhou.

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“Hey,” the bouncer clad in black, except for a yellow jacket, with the words SECURITY emblazed on the right breast, leapt off his stool at the nearby bar, “you can’t come in here!” He was a large and heavy set Chinese man, someone who you wouldn’t want screw around with.

“We’re Closed… Leave!” A second bouncer appeared from out of nowhere, a miracle really, since he was nearly a head taller than the first bouncer.

“I’m sorry,” Vincent said, his green eyes burning with jade fire, “but I have a message for Wang Zhou.” The bag was placed on the ground in a nonchalant relaxed movement, and then he crossed his arms, hands reaching underneath the navy blue trenchcoat.

“Tell me what it is, and I’ll see he gets it.” The second bouncer said, flashing a grin filled with gaps where teeth should be.

“Ok, it’s about…” Vincent paused, an evil grin creeping across his face. “On second though, I’ll tell him myself…” His hands flew out from under his trenchcoat, each carrying a Beretta M92FS Elite, aimed at both of the bouncers. “G’night gentlemen.” His voice became a solid monotone as he poured out a five round burst into each bouncer, their yellow jackets becoming peppered with holes. They fell back, creating a loud, wet thud as Vincent ran forward, diving under a twin pattern of buckshot, fired from the bartender’s shortened double-barreled shotgun. Vincent returned the favor, both Berettas barking fire, the 9x19 parabellum rounds striking home in the bartender’s chest, creating red holes in his uniform.

His moment of surprise was over, as signaled by the swarms of auto-fired slugs flying over his head, chewing out thousands of tiny holes in the bar and shattering the stock behind it into small, jagged pieces. The seconds seemed to drag out into minutes as the Triads continued their spray, but ended abruptly in the clicking sound of their bolts reaching an empty space. Vincent wasted no time in regaining his footing and hit the ground running, returning fire with both guns blazing. He heard the screams of the few triads hit by his blind fire, but more gunmen came, spraying fire in Vincent’s general direction.

A triad stepped out from behind the end of the bar, cradling a shotgun in both arms. Vincent’s eyes widened, knowing the grim reaper may come for him now; but he cheated fate, sliding under the gunner’s legs. He narrowly missed the 12 gauge spray, then gripping the ground with his feet and pushing off, sending him head first over a round table. He twisted around, looking up at the ceiling, and flipped upwards, nearly catching his head on the lip of the table. The mid-air spin put him on his back. He used his legs to propel the table off its central leg and created a barrier between himself and the Triads.

This gave him the precious moments he needed to put down one of his Berettas and pull out a fragmentation grenade from an inside pocket.

He clamped his teeth down on the steel pin and yanked out one of the few safeties the cylindrical weapon possessed. His grip went slack and the tongue flew off, he mentally counted down three seconds before he threw. Vincent heard the hard thud of the cylinder hitting the floor then the ear-popping explosion that almost drowned out the agonized screams of the unprepared.

He grabbed the Elite off the floor and made his way for the back room, ignoring the offal he had to step over on the way. The door led to a short hallway lined with doors on each side. These rooms acted as private game rooms for the more affluent customers. Vincent paid no attention to the rooms; his target lay at the end of the corridor. He gingerly reloaded both guns, tossing the empties to the side. Adrenaline surged through his veins, his breathing steadied, his nightmare was almost over.

Without breaking stride, Vincent lifted his lead leg high and crashed into the door causing the hinges to crumple under the force. He anticipated the reception and crossed his arms and fired. The single sentries on each side of the door were not quick enough. They now guarded the gates of hell.

Wang sat behind a mahogany desk, his black eyes hooded and unreadable. “Inspector Wei, I don’t believe you have a search warrant for these premises, and there is no way in hell you could have obtained a warrant for me.” He waved his hand in front of him as if to wave away an annoying fly.

Vincent slowly moved from the open doorway, “I’m not here to arrest you, after all it, would be a waste of my time. Your lawyers would have you out on bail inside of an hour and I detest paperwork. So I’m here to take matters into my own hands. No one knows I’m here and all witnesses have been silenced. It’s time to pay for your sins.”

“I know even you would have a price, Name it.”

“An eye for an eye, Wang. Do you perhaps remember a woman you encountered in your past; a woman who ran a bookstore in Kowloon?” Vincent tried to control the rising anger in his voice, now would not be the time to lose his cool. “I had to watch her die, all because she couldn’t pay your price. Now you’re the one who can’t pay.”

Wang’s breathing increased with each word Vincent uttered. He knew one of them would not leave this room. He slid his hand along the desk hoping to get a head start towards the gun in drawer.

Vincent depressed the triggers. Click. Click.

Both men reacted at the same time; Wang went for the drawer, Vincent went for the floor. Wang drew the Ruger Police Service Six and fired blindly at the floor but the .357 magnum rounds missed, gouging out large holes in the hardwood floor. Vincent pulled out the gun from behind his back, a Colt Anaconda and fired under the desk. He didn’t miss.

Wang screamed in agony as he fell to the floor, both legs rended open by the .44 magnum slugs. His eyes mirrored his fear and pain as Vincent walked around the desk to stand over him, gun aimed.

“Did you even know her name?” Vincent took grim satisfaction from the fact that Wang was still able to comprehend the situation, but Wang was given no time to reply.

Vincent turned away from Wang in disgust and retrieved his empty weapons from the floor before leaving the room. He continued through the eerily quiet bar to the bag he had left on the floor when he entered. He opened the zipper and set the detonator on the C4. He threw the bag into the center of the bar and strode out the door.

“I did,” he said to ground. He made his way back to his car as the dark night was lightened by the glow of the massive explosion that engulfed the Blue Lotus. “ Her name was Jing-yi, I would have called her my wife.”

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Final Note: This story was not written by the author of the rest of this websites works, but by a friend of mine.