RS: Mach and Jones: Third: New Employment

Jones squinted to protect his eyes from the bright sun as he exited the police station. He shifted his belt before walking on; his pants were slightly looser, now that most of the bills he had were gone to pay for the fine Mach had received.1

The swordsman stumbled out the door behind his partner, followed by shouts from several Mi-Ki policemen. Mach yelled a profanity back and marched forward.2

“Man, that was lame,” moaned Jones as he massaged his own shoulder. “Sitting there for so long made me cramp up.”3

“Don’t complain,” said Jones. “It’s your fault. If you hadn’t littered there…”4

Mach rolled his eyes. “How was I supposed to know that was a cop? Their security guards dress the same way!”5

“The police have hats,” the gunman explained. “And have more things on their belts. Like guns.”6

“…Whatever,” Mach rebutted.7

“Anyway, we better move, or else we’ll miss our flight,” Jones said as he walked on towards the nearest bus stop.8

“Hold on, I though you said we would go shopping at the jade factory. Didn’t you say you wanted to get your girl a jade bangle or something?”9

“We don’t have time anymore. Besides, why do you care? You want to buy jewelry?”10

“I want to get one of those little jade animals, a…Pixiu, that’s it. You know, the unicorn-dragon things with big mouths and bellies but no asshole? They’re supposed to give you luck with money; I want to tether one to my sword.”11

Jones sighed. “Get one by mail order. I don’t want to have to book another flight.”12

“It’s already been done,” said a dark voice with a Mi-Ki accent.13

Both Jones and Mach turned to see a professionally dressed man neither had noticed before. Although Mach could tell the Mi-Ki had no weapons on his belt or under his arms, Mach suspected there was something heavy on his right ankle by his stance.14

“You must have mistaken us for some other people. We’re just tourists on vacation,” said Jones in an attempt to ward off the stranger.15

“When two heterosexual, unrelated, adult men travel to a foreign country together, they are not on vacation, especially if both of them are freelance assassins,” the stranger smartly said.16

Jones moved to draw his gun, but stopped when the stranger said, “Don’t try anything; we have snipers posted in the area.”17

The gunman looked around and saw several convenient locations for marksmen; open windows of hotels and apartments, dark alleyways full of clutter, and the roofs of slightly distant office buildings. He could not see any men or guns, though he was sure there was a sniper in the nearest hotel, at the least.18

“What do you want?” asked Jones.19

“Just a chat over lunch.” The stranger glanced at Mach. “Alone.”20

...21

Mach took a long drag from a cigarette and coughed.22

“Jeez, these Oriental cigarettes from the Commune are so filthy. It feels like I’m smoking the filter!” he complained as he crushed the stick into an ashtray on the table in front of him.23

He studied the room in which the stranger and his “associates” had placed him. It was a private room, lightly decorated, in a local restaurant. In front of the swordsman were a large bowl of rice and a small bowl for him to eat from, as well as a pot of jasmine tea and a cup.24

“You know, if you want to be more hospitable, you could get me some real food instead of this plain stuff,” said Mach to the stern faced, 150 centimeter tall, jian-wielding, female guard who stood by the door.25

Her response was a cold glare.26

“Okay, fine, you can just stand there and look pretty; that works too,” Jones muttered in exasperation. He rolled his eyes and continued to himself, “I wonder how Jones is doing.”27

Meanwhile, Jones sat in a similar chair at a similar table. However, unlike the table at which Mach sat, there were many dishes; fried bai cai, Beijing duck, a tuna dish whose name Jones could only guess, and others. Furthermore, the tea was oolong, and there was also hot rice wine. Jones abstained.28

The stranger finished his second cup of rice wine, and as he was pouring himself another, he said, “Try the Peking duck. It’s the restaurant’s specialty.”29

Jones complied by pushing the turntable and retrieving the duck as well as a flat cake to wrap it, but demanded, “Explain what you want. If it’s a job, you could have just sent me a fax or email.”30

“First off, my family name is Duo, and my personal name is Huoche, Mister Jones,” the Mi-Ki stranger said. “I’m a scout for Intervention Industries.”31

Jones nearly choked on a piece of duck. “What the hell does one of the world’s largest arms manufacturers want with me?”32

“As you may know, I. I. requires field tests for their weapons. Also, its position in the world had caused it to spread towards territories beyond the typical boundaries of an arms developer/manufacturer. Because of this, we have been employing some of the world’s finest assassins and weapon experts,” explained Duo. “We’ve had our eye on you for a while.”33

“How long?” asked Jones.34

“Since your run-in with the Red Scare.” Duo paused to take another sip of wine. “Not many have fought him head on and survived. Without injuries, nonetheless.”35

“Thank you, but that was only because my partner and I did not pursue him when he escaped.”36

“That’s not what I meant,” explained the Mi-Ki. “We know enough about that man by the corpses of our men we’ve received to understand his capabilities. If he wanted to kill you, you would be dead. Your survival means that he either believed you weren’t worth fighting or he did not want to risk a fight with you.”37

Duo finished his cup of wine before completing his thought. “We believe it was the latter, ‘Western Wind.’”38

“I gave up that childish moniker a long time ago,” said Jones before thinking over what Duo had said. “Are you offering permanent employment?”39

“That depends,” said the I. I. representative with a smile. “We have a mission for you as a test to see whether or not you are truly above the standards of an I. I. assassin.”40

“And what must I do?”41

Duo’s smile grew. “End a dynasty.”42

...43

Mach took a sip from the soup he had finally received after much requesting.44

“Mm… This is good!” remarked Mach. “What is this?”45

“Pig foot stew,” the guard said.46

Mach had to stop himself from spitting out the liquid he was drinking.47

“Pig foot!? You had me drinking pig’s foot juice!?”48

The guard leered at Mach and responded, “It’s not juice, it’s stew, and it’s a southern Mi-Ki delicacy.”49

“But thing is Beijing, in the north!”50

“Get over it.”51

Mach groaned and laid down his spoon. “You’re lucky I have a thing for Oriental girls, or I’d wipe the floor with you.”52

“I’d like to see you try, white boy.”53

“Ooh, sassy. I like that a lot.”54

Just then, Jones opened the door abruptly and said, “Mach, we’re going back to the hotel to get some equipment; we have another target to kill.”55

...56

“Why do I have to do this but you don’t?” whined Mach.57

“Because you’re younger than I am, and I have a fiancé,” rebutted Jones.58

“Fine, said mach in defeat. He took the bandages from Jones and went into the bathroom stall. As he did what he was instructed, he said, “Are you sure this is going to work?”59

“Don’t worry,” assured Jones as he checked the contents of his back pack. “If worst comes to worst, we can claim you have a prosthetic tailbone.”60

“I have a feeling that they won’t buy that.”61

“It’ll be fine. The girls here are really shy, especially to attractive foreigners.”62

Mach snorted. “You should have met the girl who was watching me.” Another laugh came from the swordsman. “Man, she was hot.”63

“Well, you could impress her by doing a good job today. Who knows, you two might be able to hit it off, you’ll finally settle down, have a family, get a dog with white fur and brown spots everywhere.”64

Jones was interrupted when Mach exited the stall and said, “Okay, now you’re making fun of me.”65

Jones smiled and answered, “Let’s go.”66

...67

Jones laid the bag onto the conveyor belt and strolled through the metal detector. A sigh pushed through his lips when the metal alarm rang. He retreated back to the conveyor belt, grabbed a tray, and unloaded his pockets.68

There were keys, a wallet, a metal pen, and mp3 player, a sunglasses case, and a gun disguised as a traditional film camera. After another trip through the metal detector, he nodded with a smile at the security guard and retrieved his belongings.69

Thirty seconds later, Mach arrived at the same checkpoint. Lacking a backpack, he simply surrendered his few pocketed belongings through the x-ray and passed through the metal detector. When the alarm sounded, he went back, turned to the female security guard, gave her a goofy smile, and pointed to his belt.70

The young guard blushed and waved him through. The guard watching the x-ray, sighed and shook his head.71

Meanwhile, Jones was already in the tomb. He breathed in the cool, wet air as he entered the sarcophagus chamber. There he saw his target who was praying in front of the imperial coffin of Emperor Daheijian. Around the target stood four bodyguards, who all faced outwards. One eyed Jones as he walked past. Fortunately, the five of them and Jones were the only ones there on that weekday. Witnesses would have been a bother.72

Jones ignored them and exited the chamber. Once he was out of eyeshot, he checked his watch. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, he counted, until twenty-eight seconds. Any earlier and Mach would enter the action too late; any later and Mach would lose the element of surprise.73

The gunman spun around and fired the disguised gun. The bullet landed in the head of one of the guards. The other three were prompt to draw hidden machine pistols and open fire upon Jones.74

The gunman leaped away from the doorway. When he was safely to the side, he pointed his weapon back and blind fired back.75

As the bodyguards were distracted, Mach ran in from behind, holding the knife he had hidden behind his belt buckle. A deft stab to the neck killed an unsuspecting guard, and Mach slit the throat of the next as he turned his head to see the new assailant.76

Jones reentered the doorway and killed the last, confused bodyguard as Mach slew the target, which was drawing a pistol three seconds too late into the battle.77

Thus, Tian Hongjian, head of the Beijing Divine Sword Crime syndicate, and sole survivor of Emperor Daheijian’s bloodline was assassinated.78

...79

Jones elected to drink some of the wine this time. The hot, strong alcohol nearly made him tear, and he had to put the cup down after two sips.80

“So, what’s the verdict?” he asked Duo.81

The man across the table answered, “You didn’t kill him. Your friend did.”82

“I was told you wanted him dead. There were no other specifics,” said Jones in his defense. “Now he’s dead.”83

“This was a test to determine your abilities.”84

“I know.” Jones washed down the alcohol with a sip of teat. “With four body guards, a team effort is the only reasonable option. I’m an assassin, not a ghost or demon.”85

“Don’t expect accommodations for your friend,” Duo remarked coldly. “Swordsmanship is becoming a secondary skill in the world of combat, and we don’t need more than a few swordsmen.”86

“Then you won’t get me either,” Jones rebutted. “Mach and I are compatible. We’ve been working together for years, and we’d have another friend in tow if he wasn’t dead.” Jones paused. “Besides, if you’ve researched me at all, you know that I work best in a group, specifically a CQB man. If swordsmanship is dying, then so is my playbook.”87

“We will take your statements into consideration,” Duo said.88

Jones stood and said, “I’m certain you know how to reach me.” He reached into his bag, retrieved an envelope, and waved it. “Thanks for the first class seats.89

He then left the room.90

Duo downed his cup of wine, then pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. When it stopped ringing, a grisly, muffled voice asked, “Report?”91

“He’s nothing too special. His skill is counteracted by the fact that he isn’t very versatile,” answered Duo. “But it my sentiments are of any value…” The Mi-Ki paused and smiled. “…I think he’s what we need.”