The C.J. Henderson MEGAPACK ®. C.J. Henderson

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СКАЧАТЬ the teeth, not looking for anything except cooperation. After a second it dawned on me what was going on. Shoving my .38 back into its holster, I answered:

      “Ah, I’m going to have a little trouble getting down from here, and—um, well…as gracious as it is for someone of your importance to offer his hand, I wouldn’t want to ruin your suit. Sir.”

      The newcomer smiled an expansive, dangerous smile and turned to Sonny. Roughly nudging the still howling gang leader with his foot, the smiler told him:

      “You see—respect. This warrior knows how, and when, and to whom to show respect. Too bad you never learned that, William.”

      Turning back to me, he answered, “Don’t let it trouble you. What are clothes? An artificial shell. A dozen suits are not worth what you have done. Take my hand.”

      I did more than just take his hand; I slid out of the dumpster like a mouthful of spit going down a bathroom wall. Smiler caught me and held me up on my feet. Whispering, he asked:

      “You’re not going to die on me, are you?” When I assured him I wasn’t, he said, “Good. You hang tough for two minutes—let me gather up the face to be gained here and you’ll come out happy.”

      I nodded. He turned to the crowd. His speech was simple. I knew he was the head of either the Angry Ghosts or Mother’s Blood Flowing. Both gangs had known the Time Lords would move first. They had waited for the best moment to stage their takeover and then moved in in unison. Probably planned for days.

      His offer was straightforward—the Time Lords were too wild, too undisciplined, too much of a troublemaking organization. They caused more discord than harmony, and thus had to be disbanded. When someone countered that you can’t disband a gang that had a leader, Smiler answered:

      “Why, you are right. Debbie, my sweet queen. If you could oblige us.”

      A dazzling oriental girl, possibly Korean, in an expensive-looking gray fur coat came forward and pressed a sawed-off shotgun over the hole in Sonny’s stomach where my bullet had entered. Pulling both triggers, she splattered the asphalt with meat and bone. Sliding home two more shells, she retriggered and splattered the street some more.

      While she worked at her repavement operation, Smiler told me, “This way no one will bother to look for any stray slugs from some unnamed private detective’s gun, eh?”

      I nodded again, with as much strength as I could. My job’d been to protect the store. I’d done that. In the end, since it matched their own interests, the Time Lords’ rivals had come in and finished what I started. After Sonny was put out of his misery, none of his followers had anything more to say. The rules had been followed; honor had been satisfied. They split ranks and joined one or the other of the two gangs surrounding us like the last kids to be picked for a stickball game.

      Smiler walked me over to the Los’ store. I’d played down to him because he was the king of the moment. There was no honor to be had in provoking him into getting rid of me like he had Sonny, and little sense. He’d come in at the last minute and pulled my bacon out of the fire because he wanted to show he was friends with the toughest man on the street. He could have just as easily waited until I was dead to make his move. I’ve made worse friends in my time. Check out my ex-wife if you think I’m lying.

      “Okay, pal,” he suggested, “why don’t you go inside and get put back together before you croak or something?”

      While he helped me over the curb, he quietly shoved a wad of bills into my pocket. When I looked at him, he whispered again, “Look, gangbuster, don’t get all proud on me. I’ve been waiting for someone to do what you did for a long time. Now, I know who really shot Billy Wong, and you know who had him finished off. I could kill you, and one of Billy’s relatives might go to the cops with that to get me, and on and on it could go. Who needs it? Revenge is as ugly as greed. I like you, Big Hagee. You understand the basics. Billy…he was crazy. Kept trying to throw balance out the window.

      “He had to go.”

      The Los managed to break through the mass of gang members surrounding us then. As I fell into their arms, Smiler said, loudly enough for plenty of people to hear:

      “Everybody—know this. The Lo family, and their property, is under my protection. This noble warrior, Chinese or not, has shown us what must be done with those who upset the old ways. He is under my protection as well for he is a great and honorable figure, and too much a man to be my friend for things as small as money or his life. For this, I owe him favor—for this, everyone in Chinatown owes him favor.”

      Taking in a harsh breath, Smiler’s face suddenly grew dark as he added, “So all who hear me and know how far my words travel, remember only of this night that the fireworks were wonderful, and that you all watched the skies from your windows and saw nothing of the streets.”

      The few onlookers took their cue and disappeared. Most of the gang members followed them. A cleanup crew restuffed the dumpster, finding room for Sonny somewhere in the middle. By the time the Los helped me hobble back up to their apartment, the streets were empty save for the black snow and the never-ending explosions. My leg and side were messy, but not nearly as seriously hurt as they appeared. The girls burned my clothes in a barrel on the roof while the boys scrubbed me down and treated my wounds.

      Smiler had paid me five thousand dollars for eliminating the Time Lords. Less than I would have charged if he’d asked, but more than anyone else was offering once it’d already happened. I wasn’t quite sure at the time I’d ever get the chance to call in the marker he claimed I was holding on him, but I figured it didn’t hurt to keep it in mind. I’ve never been one to pass by money in the street just because some people think it’s undignified to stoop in public.

      Mr. Lo made a big show out of paying me while I held court from his easy chair, answering the continual barrage of questions about the fight. I laughed most of it off, only playing up the dangerous parts for the youngest children.

      I also added a corny bit about grabbing the dragons around my neck and praying to the gods for help. I didn’t really care who else bought it; Git’jing’s face lit up at the mention, and that was all that mattered.

      After that, Mrs. Lo chased us all to the dinner table where the food was so deep you’d have though the rest of the neighborhood’d been invited to join us. The family chattered about the fight, and the whole of my New Years’ visit, and the excitement of it all. For a while, at least.

      Before dessert, however, the conversation was that of shop and school and business and dating and homework and babies and all the other talk that fills a happy home. Something that, come the morning, I’d be leaving behind.

      Grabbing for the last piece of lobster, I pretend rage at the baby who snatched it out from under me, just to see that innocent laughter one last time. I thought, what the hell…even if you can’t go home again, at least sometimes they’ll let you visit. Besides, I had my dragons now. Who knew what would happen next?

      Outside the snow continued to fall, dodging its way around the explosions.

      INTRODUCTION TO “SO FREE WE SEEM”

      Besides creating my own characters, I’m often asked to come in and revitalize older characters. Here’s one of the stories I did for the H.P. Lovecraft estate for the mythos master’s supernatural investigator, Inspector Legrasse.

      SO FREE WE SEEM

      An Inspector СКАЧАТЬ