JustinTrenchcoat

“这馊主意,”Skunkboy碎碎念着。随即在他躺了三十六个小时的变色布料板上翻了个身。他能感觉到手肘和膝盖正用酸痛来表达对自己的不满。更糟糕的是他没有袋子来装自己的五谷轮回物了。尽管他身边有着易蒙停和MRE花生酱,1但是他真的想拉一泡…摆在他面前的有两个选择,要么冒着被抓的风险溜进这栋建筑,要么就地解决然后增加悲剧的“气氛”。

总而言之,这是一个类似于侦查狙击的任务,但是这次他没有蹲在树林或者是沙漠里,他在香港一幢摩天大楼的屋顶上。更加讨厌的是,这里真他妈的吵。就算他带着耳塞也能感觉到通风系统在嘎嘎的折磨自己的下巴。

他眨了两下眼睛,闭上眼好清除掉模糊的重影,然后重新低下头看着瞄准镜。他想,香港的夜晚其实很美。不去看风景真是可惜了。眼前的“风景”就只有港口边的几个仓库。

闪烁的灯光引起了他的注意。他小心翼翼的移动着瞄准镜,然后点点头,打开了最近六小时都关闭着的喉麦。“火花塞2号呼叫小队。信号如何?完毕。”

“火花塞一号,声音清楚,完毕。”

“三号,清楚,完毕。”

“四号,清楚,完毕。”

“很好。声音全部清楚。这里是二号。现在开始报告:对方开始按时进入港口。四辆机动车:一辆敞篷跑车,红色,高度改装。两辆SUV,黑色。一辆货车,黑色。VERITAS读数:跑车二人。每辆SUV四人。货二人……面包车后轿厢没有读数。所有对象读数为正常人类,没有异常威胁。报告完毕。”

“呃,这里是四号,”蜘蛛打断了Skunkboy。“你确定面包车后轿厢没有读数?照理说该有一个的。完毕。”

“这里是二号。稍等。”Skunkboy调整了他的VERITAS镜又扫描了一遍。“啊,没有,蜘蛛。没有读数,完毕。”

“不对吧。名单上说了至少会有一个活物……该死。”Skunkboy听着蜘蛛喃喃道。他知道小队里的奇术师又开始因为焦躁不安而踱步了。“该死。”

“要退出任务吗,蜘蛛?” Bullfrog问到。

“我没事,” 蜘蛛说。“但是把他们盯紧一点。我不知道会发生什么。”

“行。开始任务。交火的时候,我第一个上。明白吗?”

“二号明白。接到命令我们再开火。完毕。”

“三号明白。”,Kitten说。“你先开火。完毕。”

“你们开火我干嘛?” 蜘蛛问。

“跑,然后找掩护,” Bullfrog说。“自个祈祷别中枪。”

“听起来很不妙啊。” 蜘蛛讽刺一声。

“身不由己。废话少说。通讯结束。”

Skunkboy微调了一下身子,伸伸趾头。再过一会儿,就完事了。


“老冯肯定会不爽,” 郑嘟囔着。

“老冯对我服服帖帖的,” 杨说。“他那些老传统带不了咱上道。现在的大腕儿就是‘银剑’……那些婊子,军火,药片都不算啥。咱们也要来掺一脚。”

“这和当老鸨和卖粉不一样,和卖枪杆子都不一样,” 郑梗着脖子。“这就跟搞核弹和化学武器似的……我有点毛毛的。”

这样的场景已经不是第一次了:这俩人最近几天都在谈这个。每次都是一样的结局。

“那你肯看着史旺舟带着他小弟干死我们?你肯看着那左撇子老阴比草你姐妹?” 杨骂着。“一旦‘银剑’掌控全局,这就是下场。”

“我也不想啊,但是……妈的,想想都可怕。”

“那就别再想这事,” 杨说。“你在老外面前尿裤子我可不管。”

“咱们多少年兄弟不是。”

“可不咋地,” 杨附和。“好了。严肃点,合兄。”

红跑车驶向仓库停了下来,接着就是SUV和货车。杨瞟了一眼昏暗而空荡的仓库,眉头一皱。

“我以为人还会多来一点。” 他说。

“自大的家伙。” 郑说。

他从跑车上跳下来,跑向头一辆SUV然后敲窗。一个左脸上有着大疤的汉子哂笑着。

“咋了杨?”

“只有三个。我不想吓着他们。让其他兄弟在外边等。” 杨说。

“狗屎的,你确定?要是有麻烦咋办?”

“如果那群外国佬不觉得这是个套就没事。让兄弟们呆在外面,” 杨坚持着。“小心着把风……让大家把膛上好。”

“没问题,兄弟。”

杨花了一会用SUV的反光理理领子,走回到郑待着的红跑车那。“准备好了?”

“嗯,走吧。”

昏暗的仓库里只有三人等着。其中两个看起来像是无脑黑帮:其中一个短发女人高马大肌肉扎实,双眼无神。另一个是又矮又胖的大胡子男人,一身西装男不合身地箍住前胸。杨觉得他们是打手。大概给第三个人干活:一个身着精细裁剪西装的亚洲女人:年轻,稍宽的臀部也很有吸引力。她在极力掩饰自己的紧张:不停推着眼镜或是摆弄看起来超贵的平板电脑。没准是个给真老大打工的小头头吧。

“你迟到了,” 杨走进仓库她就忿忿道。“而且你带的人太多了。”

“确定不是你带的人太少了?” 杨温和地笑道。“要是带那么多现金的话,我肯定会多带上几个人呢。”

“我带了,” 年轻女人说。她摆弄着自己的一缕头发。“让外面那个寻思着带队包抄我们的黑帮小子看看自己胸口。”

杨转身看门外, 撇了下嘴后向郑点点头。

“逼脸,” 郑对着对讲机吼着。“别耍小聪明,赶紧叫兄弟们回车上去。”

“但是……”

“看看你胸口,你个傻逼,” 郑骂道。“那些外国佬看得到你。”

对讲机的另一头传来一阵骂声,那个疤痕脸白痴终于看见了自己胸口上的红点,躲在阴影里的人慌张地跑回车上去。

“我以为狙击手不用激光,” 杨笑着。“更别说是可见光了。”

“就当是……有个底吧,” 女人放松地叹了口气。“杂鱼都没了,该谈正事了吧?”


Skunkboy小心地关掉激光笔收回裤口袋。小伎俩,但是有时候很唬得住人。

穿着花丝衣服的高个子对他的同伴点点头,那人向对讲机里吼了几句。面包车从两辆SUV旁开过,向仓库门驶去。

“妈的,” Skunkboy小声讲到。“我看不到面包车里有啥。”

“把外面那些人看好,” Bullfrog低声道。“让我和Kitten想办法对付面包车。”

“老大,外边有八个,” Skunkboy抱怨道。“我一下也干不掉八个啊。”

“万一有变就擒贼先擒王,” Bullfrog说,“我们一有机会就帮忙。”

“你他妈说得容易,” Skunk boy嘀咕着,低下头继续用步枪准镜扫视着。

以防万一,他先上好了膛。


货车的门打开了,年轻女人的眉头皱了皱。她走到货车里面敲了敲重型笼子里的金属杆。“……死了。” 她说。

“我们出发的时候它还好好的。” 杨不退让。

“但是现在是具尸体。” 女人咬着牙。她又敲了敲金属杆,冲着空气挥挥手。“我拿死东西干嘛?”

“填点东西然后做个装饰?我不知道……”

“等一下,” 女人打了个响指。“这些杆子是铁做的吗?”

“有问题?”

“这就是问题!这玩意对含铁的东西过敏!” 女人愤怒地叫起来。“死在车里一点都不奇怪!半路上估摸着就被吓死了!你那些没脑子的下属没听见吗?”

“凯?” 杨吼了一声。

“……俺们听着它又叫又打的!” 小伙子承认了。“但是俺们还以为……”

“你他妈个脑子被驴踢的!” 杨吼道。“你就没想过跟我汇报一下?”

“但是……” 凯闭口不言,尊敬地低下头。“不找借口,大哥。”

“给老子回车上去卸货。回去再收拾你。” 杨叫到。他回到女人身边作出一个最为谄媚的微笑。“我呢……十分抱歉……”

“我不会付全款的。” 女人打断了他。“只有两百万。”

“这是原来一半的价!” 郑反驳道。“就因为那个畜牲死了?”

“那畜牲最值钱。其他都没有用处。两百万。要么拿走要么空手走人。”

“拿。” 杨咬着牙。他低声对郑,“你想要他们跟银剑做生意吗?”

“……两百万不够啊。两百万连枪子儿都装不齐。至少三百万。” 郑说。

“趁着还有两百万可拿赶紧拿了。不行咱们再运一次。”

“银剑要是在这之前动手咱们就砸了。”

“那只能求求老天了,” 杨说。“从那两百万里拿点给老天爷烧烧香吧。”

他拍拍他的肩膀,转身面对那群老外。“两百万。”


“啊,谢天谢地,” Skunkboy叹了口气。“你绝对没想到外面那个丑男差点就要开枪了。都从枪套里拿出来了。”

“好了,现在完事了,” Bullfrog说。“收拾收拾赶紧离开。”

“好,一会见……等会。” 有些东西在Skunkboy的余光中扫过。瞄准镜向左下方扫去。“操!” 他大叫。“老大!出事了!”


那个外国大个子把手放在耳边大喊“报告情况!”的时候,杨被吓了一跳。接着在那个老外一手伸进外套,一手把年轻女人从车里拖出来按在地下的时候,杨更是震惊的无以复加。

“这他妈怎么回事?” 杨叫到。

“敌袭!” Bullfrog说。“中计了!”

杨转身准备叫逼脸藤和其他人准备好,却不想一转身发现其他八人全部掏出了枪……对着他。

哦。下的是那种套啊.

枪声开始,他一把抓住郑的领子把他推向地上。


这计划太简单了。就只有两个人不知道这计划,而这两个人正和杨和郑在仓库里。可惜让人断了他们后路的计划失败了,不过人数仍然是二比一。

逼脸藤并不聪明,但是他不会傻到不看形势。很明显形势上史旺舟比老冯牛多了。他不是和那老头子过不去,但是他自己家里总得有米下锅,银剑的资源让他没法不动。

老冯老了。整天净信那些牛鬼蛇神。老一套的都不管用了。

可惜有一群好兄弟得死,史旺舟本来可以把他们招入麾下。至少他可以看看那没用的杨下场。


“Skunkboy!” Bullfrog对着通讯器大喊。“把这些孙子们干掉!”

“办不到!” Skunkboy回敬到。“有仨货车的人冲这来了!”

“操他妈!” Bullfrog喊。他现在恨死这任务了。他冲着自己头顶一阵扫射,木箱子被撕成碎片,货车上被打出一个个眼。他看到一个黑帮的人躺在血泊里。另一个躲在车胎后面,一边止着腿上的血一边咒骂。第二轮枪响后子弹穿过水泥击中他的肠子,他扑倒在地上拼命吸气。

The two remaining gangsters had managed to get behind cover along with his team: the boss guy with the fancy shirt and his friend with the angry eyes. They had pistols in their hands, and were firing wildly over the tops of the crates, before ducking back down as another burst of gunfire stitched through the air.

The situation, Bullfrog realized, was looking pretty much unsurvivable. He was pinned down by a force with superior numbers and firepower. He had the advantage of cover for now, but it was only a matter of time before the enemy managed to flank him. Then he was going to die.

It was time to do something stupid.

"Kitten!" he shouted.

The tall, wiry woman glanced up from her position. Her expression had not changed one bit from its usual boredom, even when a close burst caused a bullet to whip by so close to her face that it actually ruffled her hair.

Bullfrog slid his pistol across the concrete to his teammate. "Go start some shit," he shouted.

Kitten's eyes lit up. Her mouth twisted into a fierce, angry grin. Bullfrog saw her draw the biggest fucking knife he'd ever seen from some hidden sheath under her suit jacket and hold it in her teeth. She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaled once long and slow, exhaled sharply.

Then she moved.


Skunkboy had a bit of a love-hate relationship with the United States Marine Corps. On the one hand, they'd taken half a decade of his life, forced him to endure shitty food and idiotic colleagues, and basically given him nothing but hatred and contempt for the modern military. If he had to deal with one more slogan-spewing jarhead in his life, it would be too much. When the recruiter had asked him to re-up after his first term of service, he'd laughed at the guy to his face.

On the other hand, there were times when the Marine Corps way of doing things could be useful. Like when you were a lone marksman on the roof of a Hong Kong building trying to stop three big vans full of bloodthirsty Triad gangsters.

At times like those, there were few things that felt more comfortable, more familiar, to him, than his old Parris Island indoctrinations.

"This is my rifle," he murmured, as he shifted over to his weapon and lined up his shot. "There are many like it, but this one is mine."

He was going to have to time his shot perfectly. It would be best if he could catch the convoy just as they were about to exit where the street narrowed, between two warehouse buildings.

"My rifle is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life."

The driver… that would be a tough shot. Maybe he should go for the engine instead?

"My rifle, without me, is useless. Without my rifle, I am useless. I must fire my rifle true."

Deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Take up the slack. Line up the shot. Get into the rhythm of your own beating heart.

"I must shoot straighter than my enemy who is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me."

Crack.

The first round was a good one, but Skunkboy was already working the bolt and lining up his second, even before the first round hit home. He had barely enough time to see the bullet punch through the hood of the vehicle, enough time to see the hood start to spew smoke. He fired his second shot, was gratified to see the driver's side window shatter, but the driver had slammed the brakes so hard that the car behind it rear-ended the lead vehicle. He saw the driver stumble out of the door and start yelling and waving to his allies.

"I will."

Crack.

Skunkboy saw the driver of the lead car stumble and slump to the ground, rolling in agony as he clutched his abdomen. The guy riding shotgun was trying to lean over and get the car moving again, so Skunkboy put another round through the hood, for good measure.

Then he got to work.


Cuntface Teng's first warning was when the two smoke grenades came rolling out from the dimly lit warehouse and began spewing red smoke all over the area, causing the world to become shrouded in a scarlet mist. In the light of the streetlamps, it gave the entire place a hellish air.

"Watch it!" he shouted to his teams. "They may try to escape through the smo—"

There was the sound of rapidly moving feet. He saw the tall female foreigner sprinting across the open court. Her eyes were wide and wild, and she had a giant knife in her teeth and a gun in each hand.

Cuntface Teng wanted to laugh. Everyone knew that there was no way in hell to shoot straight with a gun in each hand! The foreigner had been seeing too many John Woo action movies!

He ducked behind the van as a wild fusillade of gunfire snapped towards him and the boys. The shots were mostly wild, and failed to hit anyone, as expected. All he'd have to do is wait for the bitch to run out of ammunition, and then…

He saw Loverboy Lu go down. Something spun in the air where it had bounced off his forehead: one of the two pistols the bitch had carried. Fatheaded Kai tried to shoot her, got his submachinegun kicked out of his hand, and then she beat his face in with the butt of her empty pistol before slashing open his throat with that huge fucking knife.

She'd never intended to hit anyone.

The pistols were just to keep him and his boys' heads down while she closed the distance.

She slid the empty pistol back into the direction of the warehouse, where the big male foreigner stopped it with his foot and reloaded it. He raised the pistol in a two-handed grip and began firing slow and methodical, hugging the wall of the warehouse.

Within a few moments, six of his guys were down. Two more killed by that crazy bitch with the knife, two of them shot by the big male. Teng's will broke. He turned and ran for it.

As he fled, he could hear the screaming of his two remaining guys. After a few minutes, he couldn't even hear that any more.


Skunkboy often thought that an enemy unit in panic mode looked a lot like an anthill, after someone had poked it with a stick.

There were a bunch of the Triad guys milling around, pointing in every direction, shooting out windows at random and yelling at each other a lot. It was almost comical.

A moment like this didn't seem to deserve the solemnity of the Rifleman's Creed. It was time for something a little more… upbeat.

"We shoot the sick, the young, the lame, we do our best to maim," he hummed. He knew he had the biggest grin on his face. He didn't care. "Because the kills all count the same…"

Crack!

"Napalm sticks to kids…"

He ejected the magazine of his rifle and laid it neatly next to the two empty mags he'd already gone through. He carefully seated his third magazine, worked the bolt, and raised the rifle back to his shoulder.

"Flying low across the trees, pilots doing what they please…"

Crack!

One more Triad down. That made four.

"Dropping frags on refugees… Napalm sticks to kids…"

All things considered, this was actually going pretty well for him.


"Situation report!" Bullfrog snapped, as the firing ceased.

"I've got the backup pinned down," Skunkboy reported. "Looks like they're getting ready to bug out."

"Eight down," Kitten said. "One got away. The scarfaced one that started the shooting."

"I'll find him," Zheng hissed. "Lao Feng isn't going to let him get away with this. Ten good soldiers dead in one night."

"I know," Yang said grimly. "But for now…" He turned back to the Asian woman who he had thought was their leader, and bowed deeply and respectfully. "My apologies," he said. "I was unable to control my men, and put us all in danger. If you had not been ready for them, we would have all lost our lives. I promise you, we will find the traitor and exact our punishment against him."

"When I find him I'll feed him his own balls raw. After I cut off a finger for each of our brothers he killed," Zheng agreed.

"I think I can help you with that," Spider said. She pushed her glasses up into place, and her dark eyes were fierce and angry.


Cuntface Teng wept as he staggered through the alleyway alone.

It just wasn't fair. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. American bitches weren't supposed to murder ten trained Triad killers with a knife and a pistol. He, Cuntface Teng, was supposed to be the terror of Lao Feng's soldiers. The terror of Lao Feng's soldiers wasn't supposed to run from a battle with pants stained with urine and a giant gash across one arm.

He was going to have to go to Shi Wang Zhou. It was his only choice. That faggot Yang would make sure everyone knew what he had done… and the Families didn't treat traitors very well. He'd gambled and lost… it was time to get out of the game before he lost his entire stake.

He was stepping out into the light of the rising sun when he felt the pain stab into his lower abdomen. He screamed as he crumpled over and clutched at his stomach… then began to howl in agony as a burst of blinding pain started at the base of his spine and raked slowly up his back. Then he clutched at his eyes and wept as what felt like pure fire stabbed into his optic nerves.

As the sun rose over Hong Kong, the man they called Cuntface Teng writhed and howled in agonizing pain, unable to do anything but huddle in the shadow of the abandoned warehouses and scream.


Spider gave the burlap doll one more vicious stab in the groin for good measure, before pinning it to the side of the van with Kitten's knife. She had stitched the doll together many weeks before, filling it with graveyard earth and a dash of silicon oxide. It only needed a link to her intended victim to provide the contagion it needed to find a target… a link like the blood Kitten had drawn when she had, spectacularly, slashed open the unfortunate Teng's arm with her kukri.

"Are we done here, Spider?" Bullfrog asked.

"Yeah, we're done." She turned to the two Triad leaders and slipped back into her childhood Mandarin. "You'll find your traitorous dog of a former colleague at the east side of the docks. He'll be screaming in agony. Don't take the knife out until you find him."

"… who the hell are you people anyway?" the fancy man in the nice shirt asked.

"… don't worry about it," Spider replied, smiling disarmingly. "Better to think about what you guys are."

"Which is?"

"The ones who rooted out the traitor working for Shi Wang Zhou, and brought him back to Lao Feng alive."

She hopped into the back of the van alongside Kitten and Bullfrog, who had finished loading the goods into their vehicle while she had performed her working. She gave the two perplexed-looking Chinese gangsters a cheerful wave as the three of them drove out of the warehouse.

"You do realize," Kitten pointed out, "that we need to retrieve Skunkboy, evade the Hong Kong police department, and somehow make our way back home now, right?"

"Yup," Bullfrog said.

"Just wanted to be sure." The tall woman leaned back her seat and closed her eyes.

A few moments later, she started snoring.

"Sometimes, I envy that crazy bitch," Bullfrog admitted.


"That wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I agreed to this joint operation," D.C. al Fine said to the shimmering image of the old Chinese man sitting in the chair across from her.

"The objectives were met. The shipment was stopped. The mole was rooted out, and soon Shi Wang Zhou's illegal operation will be halted," Lao Feng, Leader of the Immortal Lily Brotherhood said. He picked up a teacup that didn't exist in al Fine's office and took a small, measured sip, before wiping the rim with a napkin and putting it back down on the tea table.

"We also shot up a Hong Kong warehouse, killed over a dozen guys, and brought the attention of the Hong Kong PD upon the entire thing," al Fine pointed out. "I hope whatever you found out from the informant was worth it."

"It was. We confirmed that Shi Wang Zhou found and took over an abandoned Factory manufacturing plant and reopened it. He has been pumping out threat entity-level artifacts daily. His quality is shoddy, but his prices are much cheaper than his competitors." Lao Feng laughed and shook his head. "The irony was not lost on me."

"Will you need our help in taking them down? I could dispatch a couple of Strike Teams."

"The day that the Immortal Lily Brotherhood needs your help in a war against its rival gangs is the day that we finally join your Global Occult Coalition," Lao Feng said, smiling politely. "No, I thank you for your help, but we shall handle this matter ourselves."

"Just so long as you hand over all Factory assets to the Coalition," al Fine insisted.

"Of course. I have no desire to get involved in paranormal matters. The affairs of ghosts and gods are no place for a simple Hong Kong businessman."

"You are going to have to, eventually. It's not a good sign that two of your most trusted lieutenants tried to pull off a paranormal arms deal right under your nose," al Fine pointed out.

"I knew of their plans long before. If I had not wished to root out the traitor in my organization, we would have… had words… long before. As it is, I feel I owe Yang an apology… and an explanation. Perhaps it is time to tell him what the Immortal Lily Brotherhood really is."

"He might not be happy. He signed on to join a Triad gang, not an ancient Chinese order of monster hunters."

"He will adapt. Good bye, Ma'am."

"Good bye, Lao Feng."


"… You know," Zheng sighed. "One of these days I'm going to end up following you into an early grave."

The two gangsters were sitting together on the balcony of one of the Immortal Lily Brotherhood's safe houses, watching the sun set over Hong Kong. The city, Yang thought, had never looked more beautiful.

"No one says you need to follow," Yang pointed out. "You could just run."

"Dying would be easier," Zheng said. He put his hand over that of his friend's, and leaned in to kiss the other man on the cheek. "As it is, you owe me for this, my brother."

"Dinner at the Lucky Dragon, then? Once the heat dies down?"

"That would be a good place to start." Zheng laughed. "And maybe now we can enjoy ourselves without that homophobe Teng giving us shit."

"It would be hard for him to call me a faggot with no tongue," Yang agreed.

He kissed Zheng back, and the two men shared a brief moment of affection, before walking back into the apartment and turning out the lights. Outside, the sun finally dipped below the horizon, shrouding the city in twilight.

"Sequence"
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