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Authors: Quincy J. Allen

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Steampunk

Blood Ties (13 page)

BOOK: Blood Ties
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Cole considered it for a bit. “I guess I see your point. But if they kill us, I’m gonna be really pissed at you.”

Jake smiled. “Let’s get moving. There may be more of them, and we have to get to Qi’s before any marshals arrive … or more of them boys in black.”

“You think the marshals will come? We
are
well into Chinatown.”

“Hard to say. Wanna stick around and find out?” Jake asked, his eyes never leaving Skeeter. Cole remained silent. Both of them knew the answer to that one. “Can you ride with those damn stilts on?” he asked, glaring at her.

“Yessir,” she said, her eyes darting to the ground.

“Then mount up,” Jake ordered.

As Cole mounted Koto, Jake grabbed Skeeter under the arms firmly and set her atop the big bull, making sure to let her get the extension strapped to her leg over the saddle. He then grabbed her suitcase and hooked the handle over his saddle horn. “Cole, get us to Qi’s and keep your eyes peeled. I got our backs.”

Jake slid the last round into his pistol and then dilated the iris on his mostly-open ocular. In the soft lamplight he couldn’t open it all the way, but it was open enough to see well into the dark alleys along the street. He pulled the other pistol from its holster, turned his back to Lumpy’s rump, and they moved down the street.

Cole and Jake’s necks were swivels as they scanned every alley, window, and doorway, ready to start shooting. Cole led them around the last corner and spotted Qi’s Emporium of Wondrous Power halfway up the street. It was on the right, and while the street was moderately populated with miners wearing their wide, straw hats, there wasn’t a black or red pajama in sight.

Cole led them straight up to the massive, rolling doors of Qi’s Emporium and turned his back to Jake. “What now,
amigo
?”

“Okay, switch. Watch our backs and hand Skeeter the Thumper.” Cole did as instructed, turning into the street as Jake backed up to the door. Jake holstered the Peacekeeper and pounded three times on the door with his left. The metal fist made a harsh booming noise with each impact. They waited tense seconds, hearing only silence from within. Jake pounded again, and after a few more seconds they all heard the sound of something metal sliding back along the inside of the door. An electric motor fired up and the door rose with a muffled rattle of metal on metal wheels. Jake squatted down slightly as the door rose and was relieved to see the diminutive figure of Qi standing inside, her hand on a panel.

She was as beautiful as Jake remembered, her long, ebony hair braided and draped down in front of her in a queue that reached to her slender waist. He had expected her to be wearing one of her silk nightgowns, but she was dressed in a blue jumpsuit and wore knee-high black leather boots. She had a weathered, leather utility belt strapped around her waist with gadgets and leather pouches running all the way round. Intricate work-goggles dangled around her neck.

“It’s good to see you, Qi,” Jake said as he holstered his pistols.

Her green eyes lit up at the sight of him, warming him inside and out, and she motioned for them all to come in. “Get in, quickly. We heard the shooting.”

“Bring ’em in, Cole,” Jake said over his shoulder.

The interior of the Emporium was dark, but Jake could easily make out the huge collection of mining rigs, gadgets, and other mechanical whatnots that filled the first level on benches, shelves, and floor. A corridor of open space split the middle of the shop, wide enough for one of her mining rigs to walk through, so Cole had no difficulty leading Koto and Lumpy inside. Walkways lined the left and right sides of the second level, and Jake knew that there were several doors along the sides above that led to several workshops and Qi’s apartments.

Qi hit a button on the panel and the door rolled down again. Only when it touched the floor and the motor went silent did Jake finally relax. He stared at Qi, remembering the nights they’d spent together. He’d had to leave town in a hurry on account of his ‘misunderstanding’ with the Tong.

“It’s good to see you, Jake,” Qi purred. She stepped up to him, put her arms around his neck, and pulled him down to her, kissing him passionately. Jake gave as good as he got, his body tingling with the sensation of her lips pressed against his. He barely heard the creak of boards from the upper level.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Cole said loudly. “Seriously?” Jake heard more soft shuffling from above as Qi released him and stepped back. “Jake, I think you oughta take a look at this,” Cole added, dread in his voice.

Jake turned to see Cole staring up at the second level. Skeeter also stared up at the second level, fear in her eyes. Jake’s eyes followed, and a sick feeling clutched at his insides. There were six Chinese men on each side staring down at him. Every one of the men above wore red silk pajamas.

“Oh, shit,” Jake muttered. “Didn’t we just leave this party?”

Chapter Fifteen – Tong for Two

“The old man had seen more death than most, and it weighed on him like chains on a slave. I guess that’s why I liked him so much.”

~ Jake Lasater

Jake turned worried eyes to the woman in his arms, his eyes framed by an apprehensive look of betrayal.

“It is okay, Jake,” she said quietly. “They’re friends of mine.”

“That’s great, Qi, but last time I checked, they weren’t friends of mine. I seem to recall the point of Hang Ah’s dagger damn near stuck between my eyes. I’m feeling a little set up here.”

A soft, elderly man’s voice came smoothly from the back of the workshop, only a trace of a Chinese accent shaping the words. “There is no need to be concerned, Mister Lasater.” Jake turned and saw a small figure walking out from behind one of the mining rigs.

The man was the same height as Qi, but where she was young and beautiful, he was old and scarred, carrying himself like he’d seen tenfold as much conflict as Jake. He wore gold silk pajamas, and the shirt had black dragons embroidered on both sides of the silver buttons. His head was bald, but he had long, gray streaks of hair that made three lines from his mustache and chin all the way to the middle of his chest. The right half of his face was covered in a beautifully etched gold mask that followed the contours of his face. The surface of it reflected the light like reptilian scales, and it had flanges and a fierce eyebrow that looked distinctly reptilian. The eye within glowed emerald green with an internal light of its own. Jake saw that his right hand wasn’t a hand at all. Made of the same golden metal, the well-articulated fingers ended in sharp claws. “I am Chung Lau Xing.”

Qi stepped up beside Jake and placed her hand on his good arm. “Jake, this is my grandfather … the master of the Tong here in San Fran.”

“Your …
grandfather
?” Jake asked incredulously. Jake suddenly felt very uncomfortable about the kiss he’d just given Qi … well, that
she’d
given
him
, which he would be quick to point out if the subject came up.

The old man reached out his golden hand, its claws pointing at Jake’s midsection. Jake hesitated for a moment and then took the gleaming prosthetic in a firm handshake. The metal was cold, the handshake firm, but it was a natural motion, as smooth as Jake’s own left hand would be.

“Mister … Xing?” Jake asked. He knew that the Chinese placed their surnames first, opposite of the way Westerners did. “Don’t y’all normally run your names the other way round?”

“That is correct, Mister Lasater. But in an attempt to blend more effectively in this country, I decided to adopt at least some of your customs.” The man smiled in a genuinely friendly fashion and released Jake’s hand. “I hope my men did not startle you and your friends too much.”

Jake hesitated. “Well, to tell you the truth,” he looked up at the men above, “I’m still not sure what to make of it. I figured Qi was going to be here on her own, and I sure didn’t know she was involved with the Tong.”

The old man laughed lightly. “I can appreciate your trepidation. Certainly your first experience with my organization was less than civil. On behalf of the Tong, I would like to offer my apologies for the situation brought about by Mister Hang’s bad judgment. I was away at the time.”

“Well, I guess I appreciate that. And if ya mean it, then apology accepted.”

“Shen—the man you killed in the arena—deserved what you gave him. I do not tolerate behavior such as his in my organization. We are a community of businessmen, not murderous thieves. He dishonored the Tong when he and his men attacked you and stole your possessions. Your response was appropriate. I would even say restrained in your treatment of Mister Hang. When Hang compounded that dishonor by trying to kill you, he also got what he deserved. I know why he did it, but that does not negate the transgression.”

“Why’d he do it? I actually liked Hang, right up until he stuck that knife in my face.”

“Shen was his nephew,” Chung said sadly, “and his nephew was, how do you Americans say it … a rotten apple.”

“I guess I understand,” Jake said slowly.

Chung raised his golden hand and waved at the men above. With an almost silent shuffle they disappeared through the doors above. Chung then said something in Chinese over his shoulder, and a small Chinese boy came out of the shadows.

“Come, Mister Lasater. Bring your friends. We have business to discuss. My great-grandson will see to your mounts. We have a stable behind the shop.”

“Fair enough,” Jake said. He looked past Chung to the approaching boy, also dressed in gold pajamas identical to Chung’s. He addressed the boy gently. “The bull may be a bit stubborn. His name’s Lumpy. If you’ve got some sweet feed, use that. If you give him some, he’ll do pretty much whatever you want, and you’ll have a friend for life.”

The boy nodded silently. He took the reins from Cole and grabbed Lumpy’s bridle while Skeeter dismounted. Cole grabbed the Thumper, slid it back into the sheath on Koto’s saddle, and stepped up next to Jake.

“Mister Xing, I’d like to introduce my riding partner Cole McJunkins,” Jake said as Cole and Chung shook hands. “And this is my …
daughter
 … Skeeter.” Skeeter looked up at Jake briefly with a strange expression on her face. “She’s kinda in the dog house right now on account of she’s not supposed to be in San Francisco.”

Skeeter’s eyes returned to the gold metal of Chung’s face and arm. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mister Xing.” She reached out her hand and shook Chung’s claw slowly, leaning in and looking at the smooth joints of his fingers closely. “That’s amazing work, sir. Who did it? And is it all gears or has it got magic to move it?”

“Skeeter, that can wait,” Jake said firmly, a little embarrassed.

“No, Mister Lasater, it’s quite all right,” Chung said lightly and turned back to Skeeter. He held out the appendage for Skeeter to inspect more closely. “My daughter Qi made this for me, Miss Lasater, and
this
,” he motioned to the half-mask on his face, “after an injury I suffered.”

Skeeter looked embarrassed for a moment. “It’s just Skeeter,” she said. “That’s what everyone else calls me.”

“As you wish, Skeeter,” the man said smiling. “And the work is purely mechanical. My granddaughter is studying witchcraft but does not yet have the knowledge to bestow it upon the inanimate to such a degree.” Chung cast a stern eye upon Skeeter. “In the dog house, eh? Going places where you shouldn’t?” Skeeter looked even more embarrassed. The stern eye turned to a friendly one. “My granddaughter was headstrong, too. She was more than a handful.”

“Grandfather!” Qi blurted.

Chung laughed brightly and winked at Qi. “Come, please. Let us go upstairs and talk. We summoned you here for a job we require, and it is best that we move quickly. Time is of the essence.”

The small boy led Koto and Lumpy down the corridor of the main floor while everyone else moved to a set of spiral stairs at the front of the shop. They made their way up two flights that opened onto a narrow hallway with doors leading onto the living apartments of Qi’s building. They entered the first door and stepped into a dark room.

Qi muttered something in a language Jake didn’t recognize, and there was a flash as hundreds of candles surround the room ignited simultaneously.

Jake turned an impressed eye to Qi. “Looks like you learned a few new tricks.”

“The Lady has been teaching me,” Qi responded a bit evasively.

“The Lady?” Jake asked.

“We will speak of her shortly,” Chung interrupted, “But first let us make ourselves comfortable.”

They stepped into a large lounge with a long, black lacquer dining table in the middle and soft-looking sofas done in embroidered gold and crimson around the perimeter. Everything had been done in what Jake assumed was classic Chinese style, not that he’d really know the difference.

“Please sit,” Chung said and then followed it with a loud command in Chinese towards a door at the back. Everyone settled in their chairs just as an elderly woman came in. She held a tray with a teapot and five small cups on it, each painted with a different-colored dragon. She silently placed a cup in front of each person and poured out a pale, greenish tea that steamed in the cool air of the room. “Green tea from my homeland,” Chung added. Everyone took a sip as Jake cast an eye at his host.

“There’s something I gotta know, Mister Xing.”

“Please, call me Chung.” He finished his tea with a long pull.

“Chung,” Jake said, nodding his head, “If you’re not after me for killing Hang Ah, then who were the boys in black who jumped us around the corner. They were wearing black, so I’m assuming they were friends of his.”

“Your assumption is correct, Mister Lasater,” Chung said, pouring himself another cup of tea.

“Call me Jake.”

“And you can call me Cole,” Cole added, raising his teacup.

Chung nodded and lifted his teacup, staring at the dragon on it for a few seconds. “Hang Ah’s brother Ming did not agree with my decision that the matter was settled between you and the Hangs. I had sent a telegram directing them explicitly to leave you alone.” The old man ran the wrinkled fingers of his left hand over the glittering surface of the gold mask. “We had a … disagreement … that required my daughter’s rather dramatic additions to my body.”

“I’m sorry, Chung,” Jake said, feeling at least partially responsible for the man’s prosthetics. “I know what it’s like to lose a pound of flesh and get stuck with ten pounds of gears.”

Chung looked at Jake with appraising eyes, and it was clear that his respect for the gunslinger went up a few notches. “I can see why my granddaughter feels for you as she does, but my situation is not at all your fault.” Chung looked to his granddaughter and then back to Jake. “Ming is … an
ambitious
man, and he does not agree with my differentiation between what I consider to be legitimate business and the reckless murder and theft that seems to be his primary appetite. Shen was his son. He has sworn to see you dead, Jake.” The statement held no apology, merely observation.

“Well, what the hell is taking him so long?” Jake asked and then took a sip of tea. “I been in Denver pretty much this whole time.”

Chung nodded. “Ming had returned from China shortly after your disagreement with Hang Ah. When he learned of the death of his brother and son, we had our own disagreement. He has spent these last months building up his own organization. He has recruited many of my countrymen with promises of wealth and glory. He has even managed to steal away some of my own men, but only a handful. Where I garner loyalty in my men, Ming caters to greed and, once captured, keeps his men through fear of retribution.”

“He sounds like a real charmer,” Cole added.

“We all choose our own path in this life, Cole,” Chung said quietly, “and Ming has chosen his.”

“I take it you boys are at war?” Jake asked.

“Not formally. I am reticent to initiate an open war in the streets of Chinatown. I do not want the city government involved in this dispute.…” Chung took another sip of tea and then smiled and Jake. “Or to have them take too close a look at my business dealings.”

Jake and Cole chuckled. “I think I understand,” Jake replied. “I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know too much about them, either.”

Chung nodded. “But we did not come here to talk about Chinese politics.”

“Politics?” Cole asked, thinking the term was a bit light for a pending war between rival gangs.

With a smile Chung continued. “As you know, we have a job for you.”

“Escort a package, right?” Jake prompted.

“This is no ordinary package,” Qi offered. “It’s not something you can carry.”

“How do you mean?” Cole asked.

“It’s rather large … and heavy,” Chung said, looking very serious.

“What’s in it?”

“I am afraid I cannot tell you of its contents,” Chung said, sounding genuinely regretful. “I have made a promise to the owner of the package—the lady whom Qi mentioned earlier. I am honor-bound to keep that promise.”

“Well,” Jake said, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. “That’s a little tricky, but it ain’t unheard of. And it ain’t a show-stopper, leastwise not yet.” He looked at Chung seriously. “Is it dangerous?” he asked.

Chung hesitated and then spoke naturally. “How do you mean?” Jake was too good a poker player to miss the pause, and the question of Chung’s hesitation tickled the back of his mind.

“It’s not nitro or dynamite or anything like that is it? Something that could blow up and get me and my crew killed?”

“I assure you it is nothing like that. The contents of the package are not explosive in any way. They are not even illegal,” Chung added, reassuring Jake and Cole with a comforting smile.

“What’s the job pay?” Jake asked.

“Two thousand now and three thousand upon safe delivery,” Chung said calmly. Jake raised his teacup to his lips in an effort to keep from giving away his avarice. Cole and Skeeter’s eyes showed white. “The first payment will be in U.S. dollars and the rest of it in gold,” Chung concluded.

Jake’s resolve broke as he almost spit his tea across the table, causing Cole and Skeeter, sitting across from him, to flinch.

“Hmmmm,” Jake almost purred as he licked his lips, eyeing the old man.

“I’d say you have a deal, Chung,” Cole said, chuckling.

Jake grinned at Cole. His partner knew him well. “There would have to be a couple of conditions,” Jake added, setting his teacup down.

“I would have been surprised if there weren’t,” Chung said smoothly.

“If the owner of this package is around, I’d like to meet him.”

“Her,” Qi corrected. “The Lady.”

“Oh, yeah, her,” Jake corrected himself.

“I am certain she will agree to that, as she had already required that she meet whomever we hired to transport her … property.”

“Fair enough,” Jake agreed. “I’d also like to get an idea of who might come at us between here and Denver.”

“Well, it is possible that Ming and his men may come after you, but not because of the package,” Chung said quietly. “Beyond that, you would have to ask Lady Dănești yourself.”

BOOK: Blood Ties
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