Jason approached Bau. He saw the pool of blood on the floor beside him, He immediately assumed the worst. He lifted up Bau’s hand and felt for a pulse.
Jules came over after tying up the men. “Is he?”
Jason shook his head. “Still alive.”
Jules went over to the door and put his ear against it. “They’re still shouting.” He tried the handle but it was locked. He pressed his thumb against the reader on the side of the door. Nothing happened. Jason pounded on the door, but no one answered.
“We have to get someone to help him or he’ll die,” said Jason.
“I’ll go back to the front and try to get back in.”
“I’ll keep pounding.”
Jules dashed down the hallway as Jason kept pounding on the door. His hand hurt when Jules came back. “Nothing,” he said.
“Maybe there’s someone down here. You have the guns, right?”
“And a couple of reloads.” He held up two magazines.
Jason nodded. They left Bau and continued down the hallway, guns drawn. The hallway looped up a steep ramp, ending in a large foyer with chairs and benches set up around it. A door was to their right, so Jason tried it. It was locked.
Someone shouted in Chinese on their left, and they turned, guns at the ready. A man in green tights raised his hands. Both of them aimed their guns downward. The Chinese man said something, but Jules said, “We’re American, we don’t speak Chinese.”
“Who are you?”
“Fold and Holder,” said Jason, pointing to Jules when he said Holder.
The man’s eyes narrowed. “You are the ones who brought in Xian Long.”
“We didn’t, honest,” said Jules.
“Bau is injured with three men just down the hallway,” said Jason.
“How do I know you won’t shoot me in the back?”
“We could have just shot you.”
Then, the front of the man’s tights had a small red spot, which expanded. He said something in Chinese, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he pitched forward.
Behind him stood Xian Long.
