12
SLAYING THE DRAGON
Saul's hearing hadn't been up to par for a long time, plus he refused to wear his aid "damn thing" so he didn't hear the men approaching him up the corridor. Young men, powerful and determined who scowled at the sign Saul was nailing to a board.
RESIDENTS MEETING TONIGHT.
The first Saul knew of the intruders was when he was grabbed, relieved of his hammer, spun around and slammed into a wall, his brittle old bones protesting at the abuse.
Despite advancing cataracts Saul made of the face of the bald man glaring at him, not unhandsome in a tough, cynical kind of way, cocksure and strutting, obviously well muscled with a tanned Caucasian face bearing two striking tattoos. A bird on the right cheek and a snake on the left, they were both the same size and created a curious symmetry.
Italian kind of name thought Saul now what was it – Franco, Fernando, Francisco perhaps?
No that wasn't right, oh yes Fabio that was it, how could he forget?
Shaking his head Fabio regarded the old man bent double with pain, "Didn't we make it clear last time Saul, didn't I explain myself properly; you're not supposed to be here. This place is under new management, they want it demolished and that means you have to leave."
The men holding Saul did not relax their grip, they to were tough looking and in their prime but they didn't speak deferring to Fabio.
"I was hoping you'd do so under your own steam," he said giving a mock shrug and a little sigh, "But as this doesn't seem to be the case I'm afraid we're going to have to give you a little help – Serge."
A big brute with a goatee beard opened a large window that looked out onto the street outside, Saul found himself gazing at a long drop he knew he wouldn't survive. He feared death of course but it was no longer such a burden, he was going to be with his Hester very soon and they would hold hands as they once had as young lovers looking into each other's arms.
"Sorry about this," said Fabio, "Still at least it'll be quick and you'll have a fabulous view," he smiled once more showing teeth that shone like jewels; then Saul was tumbling, falling, out of control; spinning towards oblivion.
Turning away not needing to see the inevitable Fabio wiped dust from his palms like all this was beneath him and he was destined for better things.
"What about the others," he remarked to no one in particular, "Are they still here?"
Only big Serge dared to speak, "Fifth floor, holed up."
Fabio's sigh betrayed boredom why was this taking so long; he had promised the management resolution by the end of the week,
"Then we must visit the same urgency upon them as we did with poor doomed Saul," he stroked the bird on his face as if for luck.
"Fire," Serge grunted used to crude, direct methods?
"No our employers don't want the structure damaged in that way, plus fire invites forensic curiosity; we'll have to be more creative."
Caine heard the first siren some yards from his place of employment, by the time he arrived at the rundown tenement the police and paramedics were already in evidence with flashing lights, big chrome vehicles and blue tape. A crowd of ghoulish onlooker shad formed and were pointing at something, Caine overheard snatches of conversation something about a poor old devil, never stood a chance.
Not mingling with the crowd he slipped into an alleyway, the police would not let him via the front door so he must make use of his secret way in.
Partially hidden by a dumpster the window was big and on a hinge, it didn't open all the way but sufficient for one of his supple dexterity and squirming through the gap Caine pulled the window closed behind him, rolling over the back of a sofa to land in a crouch between two big rolled up carpets.
Around him were tea chests, barrels, dust sheets and a forest of abandoned furniture. Moving silently through this museum of unwanted items he came to a door that opened with only minor insistence.
Some way off he could hear voices that sounded official, knowing it was best to avoid these he found the dumb waiter. His flexible form was able to fit inside with a little effort and in this squashed shape he pulled himself upwards unseen and unheard by the forces of law and order.
"But what the hell are we going to do now," Joseph's shrill voice echoed a question on everyone's mind although his pacing and hand wringing did little for Ruth who found the tall, skinny man a bit tiresome?
"Keep our nerve," she offered as a question studying the eyes of the other people assembled in her top floor apartment, "What else can we do?"
It was the former book seller Hiram who stated in his blunt, pragmatic way.
"They murdered him of course; I suppose it was only a matter of time before they resorted to violence."
Joseph worried his scrawny neck, "We'll be next you see if we aren't, they'll come after us and pick us off one by one."
"Saul was a loner he was his own worst enemy, he shouldn't have been on the landing in plain view," Maya was Joseph's sister but a much more calm and measured personality, she'd wanted to be a doctor but in her day women were discouraged so she became a nurse and midwife.
"Yes we have each other," said Ruth trying to inject some positivity into the conversation before it descended into hysterical bickering like last time.
"You think that'll help us when they bust in here with weapons and threats maybe guns," Joseph was working himself into quite a state?
"We're armed to, we aren't helpless," Ruth pointed out.
Hiram was nodding his whiskery head, "We'll fight if we have to, we must what other choice is there, this is our home and we're not leaving no matter what the provocation?"
"Easy to say," Joseph was shivering, "But we're old and they're young, ruthless thugs."
"Scum," Maya did not hide her disgust, "A bunch of punks and nothing more, I've met their type before."
Me to thought Ruth too many times and they never give up, during her time in the public defenders office she'd seen all sorts of low life drift in and out – thieves, liars, wife beaters and plenty of muscle for hire who didn't ask too many questions.
"We could still accept the offer," Joseph remarked, "Take the money and run."
Hiram was appalled, "Chicken feed, our homes are worth 4 times as much and they know it, if we take that deal we'll find ourselves son the street unable to rent anywhere else, plus there's a principle at stake, this is where we live and have for years, this building is our home; they've no right to bully us into leaving."
No right but plenty of might, Ruth had seen good people brutalised and brow beaten into doing all sorts of things they shouldn't, it was how life was.
"So you think we should stick it out," Joseph challenged, "No matter what they do, even if that lawyer said we hadn't a leg to stand on?"
"That shmuck," Maya snorted, "Little more than a kid in diapers, what the hell did he know? Hiram is right this is our home, why should we be pushed out like so much garbage? Ruth you've gone very quiet, back us up here."
Aware she was the centre of attention Ruth stood up to clear the coffee things, everyone had drunk their fill but very little of the cake had been consumed; loss of appetite due to Saul most likely. Then she paused, what was that noise a sort of tapping sound a clicking, it was coming from her back parlour.
Waving for the men to follow her she went to check it out, hoping it wasn't Fabio or his mercenary friends breaking in.
Hiram picked up a heavy lamp and Joseph acquired along silver poker just in case, Ruth did not arm herself, with her rheumatism she couldn't do much anyway.
They all came across a man working on the fuse box with a set of tools, he did not seem to be sabotaging anything but affecting some repairs. Long haired and slim, the man was tall, long legged, not young but not old either at least not as old as them. Curiously he had bare feet like a vagrant but his manner suggested industry, a man with tasks to perform.
"It's just Caine," Hiram sighed, "The handyman," he visibly relaxed but Ruth was studying Caine noticing details as she'd been trained to do, this guy didn't resemble any handyman or janitor she'd ever known.
"How did you get into this apartment it's completely locked with a table against the door and all the windows are bolted?"
In response the odd man shrugged indicating an old dumb waiter surely long disused and also surely way too small for his long frame to fit inside.
"You came up in that," Joseph cried, "But it's too small, I doubt if even a child could fit inside, plus it hasn't worked in years."
Caine offered no argument like he didn't care if he was believed or not and Ruth wondered if he had used the dumb waiter, if he was some kind of conjuror or contortionist, there was no other way into her home?
"What are you doing," Ruth's demand was accompanied by a frown?
Waving at the fuse box Caine indicated it's once faulty wiring, now two new wires had been added and a couple of new fuses to, when he clicked a switch the thing hummed with something akin to good health.
"My god he's fixed it," said Maya, "Nobody's been able to do that or even tried in ages."
Even Hiram seemed impressed, "Good job to," he said, "You seem to have good hands Mr Caine."
In response to this Caine offered a smile of acknowledgement, but Ruth wasn't satisfied.
"Who sent you who do you work for, this is a condemned building; the agency told us they wouldn't send another janitor," and nobody wanted the job anyway with Fabio on the prowl?
"Give him a chance Ruth," Maya interceded, "Would you like some tea young man and maybe a slice of my home made lemon cake?"
Caine's first words were, "Tea thank you," he sounded polite enough not like the last handyman some coarse oaf with a permanently running noose, even so Ruth still had her doubts.
"You should have knocked and asked my permission to come in, do you have any ID?"
"Oh for goodness sake Ruth give the boy a chance," said the normally twitchy Joseph, "He's done you a massive favour now you can use your oven and watch TV."
If there was anything on TV worth watching she'd have been impressed but she was happy to have her fuses working, then she looked down.
"You're not wearing any shoes or socks, are you too poor to afford them," barefoot people tended to be vagrants or junkies and Ruth liked neither?
But the others issued Caine over to a chair and Maya produced her lemon cake; something she was very proud of.
"How did you get past the police, they're everywhere, there's been a violent death," Ruth wasn't going to give up so easily there was a mystery here?
"Yes that's a good point," Hiram agreed, "Nobody can get in or out of the building, our friend Saul fell from a window."
"Or was pushed," said Joseph.
"Pushed," Caine enquired accepting a cup of tea with a map of Israel on the side?
"Surely you know about Fabio and his thugs," said Maya and when a shrug greeted this she went on; "The new management have hired these gangsters to force us out; damn terrorists."
Joseph mopped his brow with a hanky, "We're the last residents left and we're in the way, they've offered us money to move, not enough."
"Move where," Hiram growled, "This is our home it's all we have, we're not rich any of us we're old people struggling to make ends meet."
Ruth nodded glumly, "This is our last stand, if they get us out we're on the street."
Hiram was furious, "I was 14 when I joined my family's bookshop, sixty years I've toiled there and what do I have to show for it?"
The elderly man had a stoop and a limp he wore simple home spun clothes like most of the peasants in Hunan village, few could remember a time when old Ling had not lived near the well. There had once been a wife and children, but she died and the children went away so Ling was alone.
Every week someone from the temple would visit Ling to see how he was, that day it was Master Li's turn and he took a boy with him a novice. A fierce warrior when roused Li had a kind streak that belied his calloused knuckles and lethal kicks, a former soldier he was now a Shaolin priest and highly respected by the other priests and masters.
"Good morning Ling," he said, "How are you today?"
Caine regarded the thick set old man warily with his scars, missing 3 fingers and sharp eyes.
"Priest of Shaolin," the voice was tinged with sarcasm, "And a boy, a very odd boy."
Half-caste Caine was very aware he was viewed with suspicion and dislike by many locals.
"I am poor priest, poor and lonely, I have nothing even my well is drying up when it does I will have to leave the house that has been my home for 40 years. You ask how I am well I shall tell you," the ugly face loomed closer making Caine shrink back, "I would be better off dead, dead and buried."
Li took this tirade in his stride, perhaps he'd heard it many times before, people often shared their fears with him feeling they could trust a priest.
"You have the ability to walk," Li responded not unkindly, "To speak, to see, to hear, your mind is still clear, you have your memories and imagination. A roof protects you from rain and wind, your traps ensure you eat every day, the well provides spring water fresher than the river. I see you make and sell pottery; it is a rare skill few possess. By local standards you have a good life style plus you are visited by we of Shaolin every week, how can you say you have nothing when you are blessed with such wealth?"
Squinting at the priest Ling seemed to regard him as a madman then the rheumy old eyes fixed on Caine, "Pious words boy, what do you think are you here to patronise a lonely old man?"
"No sir," Caine blurted out, "I can see your life is hard and that you are old," was that too blunt?
But to his surprise Ling chuckled, "Yes I am old, I must seem ancient to a child like you but one day my lad you to will be old and infirm it comes to us all; time is the thief that steals everything."
The words echoed across Caine's mind and he knew he would never forget them, he had learned a valuable lesson at this house by the well, had Ling also learned for was not life one big lesson?
Caine spoke in the warm apartment filled with memorabilia from times past, objects and photos, a flute, a piano, candlestick holders and many books some religious.
"You have each other," he said calmly, "Your minds, hearts, memories," he smiled, "lemon cake," it tasted wonderful, "You have me," he added.
They stared at him four confused, bewildered faces lined with age and worn by fear they carried that fear around with them like a shroud.
"I don't think you quite understand our problems young man," Ruth was waspish, "Fabio's thugs are terrorising us, we live in fear of our lives; what can we do if they bust into our apartments or set fire to them? These thugs are totally ruthless, just mercenaries for hire. I've heard stories about what they've done in other tenements."
Hiram agreed, "You're young, strong, you can work but we're stuck here."
Maya looked close to tears, "If only we could reason with Fabio, Saul thought he could and look what happened to him."
"The police are useless to, told us to sell up and move on," Joseph was back to wringing his hands, "So what can we do?"
Caine finished his cake, "Where is this Fabio now," he asked?
Ruth frowned, "He won't show his face while the cops are around but the minute they leave," she parted her hands, "He'll be back."
Hiram was studying Caine intently, "What are you planning to do Mr Caine, not talk to Fabio surely the man's a psychopath, he won't listen to reason and he has no compassion?"
Caine rose it was time to leave, he had learned all he could off these people and now understood the situation, "May I go via the front door," he requested?
"Yes of course," Ruth produced her set of keys, the door had four locks and four bolts.
"Keep away from Fabio," Joseph warned, "If you've any sense you won't come back here at all."
At the door Ruth paused to listen and look through the spy hole, "Thank you for fixing my fuses," her wrinkled hand came to rest on his arm, "You seem like a kind man and I'm sorry if I was abrupt. Joseph is right it isn't safe here for anyone so do yourself a favour and find another building."
Fabio was busy doing his favourite thing – counting money – the thick wad of notes crinkled and fluttered in his hands the reward for successful evictions. He didn't even look up at Serge joined him in the back of the Buick.
"We got a problem boss a new face has turned up," Serge nodded at the tenement with cops still milling around outside it, "Some guy in a floppy hat, tan coat and bare feet. I saw him coming out of Ruth's apartment, I don't think he saw me but he was real pally with the old folk."
Now Fabio did look up, complications irritated him they got in the way of profit, "Name," he demanded?
"No idea he looks like a vagrant to me some welfare case."
That didn't make any sense why would a welfare guy visit the tenement and how come he knew Ruth, how the hell did he get into her place with all these cops?
"Then I think we need to have a conversation with Mr no-shoes and explain to him the error of his ways," Fabio smiled at the prospect he enjoyed threats of violence and the actual violence itself, he had ever since he discovered it at the expensive boarding school his parents sent him to where he bullied older as well as younger boys, big for his age and skilled at fighting even then.
"You want him dead," asked Serge who'd acquired a taste for blood in Bosnia as a teenage soldier?
"I doubt we'll have to be that extreme and another death might rouse the police off their collection asses, no words should suffice and if not," Fabio curled a fist and it was a lethal weapon.
Caine waited. After leaving Ruth's place he had stayed in the building, finding a quiet place he had sunk to the floor with crossed legs and meditated. Instinct had brought him here to this building he had been drawn by the threads of karma, there was a destiny here to be played out and he couldn't just walk away from it; he had to help these people because nobody else would or could.
Caine felt the police leave after a pretty routine operation that involved little real investigation, soon afterwards the 'others' arrived the hunters, he sensed their violence their brutality they wore it proudly, men who hurt other men for money an act as old as time.
It would not be difficult for them to find him, he had left clues and so up they came, he detected three heartbeats, three auras all dark with the muddy colours of cruelty.
Serge kicked the door open, Caine did not react he was completely calm and at one with this situation. It was another man who spoke the leader the one with the brains and something else.
"Who've got nerve I'll give you that, nerve but no brains."
Eyes opening Caine peered at Fabio seeing a man of his height but chunkier, well muscled, an athlete and…
"The snake and the white crane," he murmured studying the smooth hairless face, "Represent the style known as wing chun."
Surprise flickered in the cold pitiless eyes as Fabio licked his top lip, "You know martial arts," he was incredulous, "It would seem unlikely based on your appearance, a mix of street corner beggar and YMCA reject but the world is full of surprises."
Caine sighed, "I am neither of those clichés I am here to assist the old ones you prey upon."
"He's insane," Serge snorted but Fabio held up a restraining hand.
"Help them how exactly," he enquired with amusement, "By taking us on is that your intention," laughter trickled into the air, "You against us," the bald head shook, "Serge is former Serbian special forces a trained killer, Michel is an expert in the French art of savate and as for myself," the chest swelled with pride, "I have won martial arts competitions across the world, full-contact, last man standing; I have never been defeated."
No hint of fear passed across the slender face of the seated man, people usually feared Fabio when he told them what he could do but Caine seemed totally unconcerned.
"What can you do," Serge jeered like he didn't think it would be much, "A man with no shoes or sense of style a vagabond," stepping forward suddenly he made to kick Caine with his heavy work boots both had steel toe caps.
Avoiding the kick by twisting his body Caine straightened out, rested on an elbow and placed his left bare foot into the Serb's solar plexus, the snap kick so fast and powerful that Serge felt all the air evacuate his lungs as he tottered back with a gasp.
Fabio did nothing he just watched, the smile freezing on his lips, he'd told Serge to test the bare foot man to put him under pressure but Caine didn't look flustered at all, his response instinctive, fast and effective; what was it the drunken monkey style?
On his feet now Caine faced the trio of men, Serge holding himself and in some distress the other two calm and poised, would they attack.
"Not bad," Fabio finally admitted, "So you can fight to," his features were tight with concentration, "But the fact remains that the old folk have to go it's not an option, my employers want them out and soon; no excuses."
"Leave them in peace," Caine's reply sounded like an appeal, unfortunately Fabio wasn't moved by appeals.
"No can do my friend, this is business and there's no sentiment involved."
"Everyone has a choice," said Caine, "fear or courage, hatred or mercy."
"That's a naïve point of view, who has any real choices in this world where money is the only god?"
Caine's arms parted, "We all do," he said.
"24 hours that's all you have, by then I want you gone and I want the old folk gone."
"Why don't you just leave," asked Caine, "There is nothing keeping you here."
Serge, who had recovered his breath snapped, "Money, lots of money."
Fabio silenced him with a look, "we're professionals just doing a job it's nothing personal."
"So why do you enjoy it so much," Caine made it plain he wasn't impressed, "Inflicting pain on the weak, what is it you lack in your own heart?"
Clearly offended Fabio raised a hand and curled it slowly into a fist, "I've no wish to pit my skills against yours but I will if I have to, if you act stupidly, I'm giving you a chance to walk away from this it's not an option I'll extend twice. When we meet again there will be a reckoning."
A flash of light briefly blinded Caine as Michel used his phone camera, "Just for the record," said the French Canadian, "We like to know who we're dealing with."
"Goodbye bare foot man," said Fabio, "Come Serge."
But the Serb hung back, "I owe you for that kick," his own fist was enormous, hairy and gnarled, "Personally I hope you don't leave, I'd enjoy throwing you out of a window."
"Serge," the command was sharp and disapproving and soon Caine was alone in the silence with his thoughts.
Ruth dabbed her eyes she'd been crying again as she often did once on her own and the abrasive façade she erected was no longer required.
A sound made her glance up and there was Caine who had entered as swiftly as silently as before, she did not react with fear just a slight gasp then a smile she was actually pleased to see the handyman again.
"You shouldn't be here," she croaked fighting to compose herself, "It isn't safe."
With a shrug Caine stayed where he was, "I have met Fabio," he said and the old woman tensed.
"You seem to be unharmed."
"He gave me 24 hours in which to leave."
Ruth frowned, "Generous, if I were you I'd take advantage; Fabio isn't someone who shows a lot of mercy."
Caine shook his head, "If I left where would that leave you," moving closer he squatted down until their faces were level, "I shall stay."
Heart beating faster Ruth looked into the timeless eyes, "Fabio will kill you."
Caine had no doubt that a lethal attack was coming that Fabio and his men were jackals, "If that is his destiny he must face it."
"Aren't you afraid; most men would be?"
"Fear is a choice," Caine smiled, "I choose a different path."
"You're one of the strangest men I've ever met, you're willing to risk your life for total strangers; I'm not sure I completely understand."
Silent for a brief moment the bare foot man said, "Ones life is measured in deeds; I would prefer mine to be of value to others."
"We can't pay you if that's what you expect; all my money goes on the upkeep of this place."
Head shaking he squeezed her hands gently; "I seek no payment."
Moved to tears again she looked away, spontaneous acts of kindness shad been rare in her long life, almost everyone she'd met wanted something off her.
"Don't die Mr Caine, don't throw your life away for a lost cause, sooner or later Fabio will evict us."
"You are not a lost cause and Fabio will not succeed."
Such was his confidence that she felt hope flare in her heart, something that hadn't happened in a long time.
"There are rich men behind him, unscrupulous men; they may find someone else."
"Perhaps," Caine conceded, "But it better to have hope than wealth."
"Do you not have any money or possessions," Ruth was curious.
Posses no possession lest it possess you.
Who had said this – he couldn't remember but sensed the truth of it.
"I have all I need," he responded.
Ruth looked around her apartment it was the biggest and most comfortable place she had ever owned, "When I was a girl Soviet tanks invaded my country to squeeze the heart out of it, we had to flee I was the only one of my family who made it to the west; I vowed then nobody would force me out of my home again."
A single tear ran down the wizened cheek which Caine wiped away with his fingers, he said no more how could he make any promises when his own future was in so much doubt?
The door to the roof was unlocked as he had known it would be, he found a flat quad of white stone with a low railing to one side beyond which was a long drop to unyielding pavement.
Four men awaited him, three he knew the fourth was a ruddy cheeked bull whose face told a story of constant violence with many small scars and pits. Not a single hair disturbed the smooth pate upon which a swastika was tattooed.
Fabio was stood near the railing with folded arms he said, "Serge, Michel, Oleg this is Kwai Chang Caine – handyman, sweeper, herbalist and fool, he is refusing to leave despite being offered the chance by me to do so. I've been extremely reasonable and patient but now my good humour is exhausted, it is obvious to me that Caine here will not depart until persuaded."
Turning he offered a frosty smile waving at his compatriots a grim trio, "Is this what you want Caine to pit yourself against these men, have you any idea how much pain, suffering and death they have inflicted upon others during their careers?"
Caine removed his floppy hat tossing it aside, undoing his jacket he let this fall away also to reveal a loose black cotton top and matching pants around his waist a crimson sash; the scruffy vagabond look making way for a more athletic even stylishly martial arts appearance.
Fabio's clap was slow and mocking, "Oh very good Caine very smart you're not a tramp after all you even have a sense of style, I do so hate killing nonentities."
Serge and Michel grinned, the huge Oleg did not maybe his face was incapable of humour. Moving away from the door with light steps Caine made room for himself, his arms parted and chin raised then the arms circled gracefully in the air as he deepened his posture imitating the postures of deer, leopard and monkey before assuming his trademark praying mantis.
The other men did not take up stances theirs was not a trade that demanded affectation it was crude, simple and direct with no real flourish.
Giving a bellow like a bison Oleg rushed at Caine his thick meaty arms reaching, grabbing ready to crush and squeeze.
But there was nobody there, like a ghost Caine had vanished; leaping and rolling out of the way.
Grunting with surprise Oleg turned just as a steel hard foot impacted with his jaw scrambling what brains he had.
Another foot exploded into his considerable midriff knocking him off balance, a third kick accompanied by a leap propelled him into the door.
Then Serge was attacking a vicious bill hook in his right fist its curved tip capable of disembowelling a man with one strike. Again the intended victim wasn't there, dodging and weaving aside and around Serge, rigid fingers jabbing at arm pit, neck and temple as Caine employed the snake system of rapid fire pinpoint strikes.
Dropping Serge twitched and squirmed his nervous system going into shock.
Michel gave a cry and fists raised he joined the fray but instead of punches he threw kicks with both legs employing the French foot fighting art of Savate also known as La Boxe Francois a type of European kickboxing based on oriental arts.
Used to kicks Caine twisted, weaved and parried his Shaolin Kungfu contained a wide range of leg manoeuvres and after a dozen or so double arm blocks he caught one of the kicking legs with a process known as 'mantis steals a peach' pulling and canting the leg up higher than it was meant to go.
With a cry of pain and fear Michel flew backwards flipping right over in the air to crash down hard onto the white stone.
There was no time to enjoy the moment as the giant Oleg was rushing back into the fight arms parted wide as though to inflict a bear hug.
This time Caine did not dodge from side to side or leap he dropped to the ground in between the thick legs, hands on one ankle and feet pressed against another. He pushed with both forcing the mighty legs apart further and further, with a look of abject horror Oleg realised he was being forced into a box splits, something his stiff frame was not used to or prepared for.
Caine gave a final jerk with hands and feet separating the huge legs into extremis, something popped, there was a tearing sound and with a blood curdling cry Oleg toppled backwards to crash onto his back like a beached whale.
With a single roll Caine was erect his supple body capable of almost any gymnastic feat, even so he had to block swiftly to avoid a rabbit punch from Serge and leap back two steps to escape the boning knife in the man's left hand.
Catching and locking the fully extended arm he dislocated both wrist and elbow with a rapid twist/jerk then kicked Serge on the chin making his teeth snap shut just as his brain switched off.
Michel's boot missed Caine's face by a millimetre, dropping low and going into a spin Caine extended a single leg in the 'iron broom' technique, a particularly athletic sweeping method that hacked his rival's supporting leg from under him and sent Michel crashing into unconsciousness.
Slowly Fabio undid the buttons of his long coat and removed it, his three minions dispatched he was faced with little choice other than to end this himself.
"I've always found the shaolin system over complicated and flowery myself, in wing chun we employ the direct approach shorn of all embellishments. I'm not saying your style is worthless, clearly it isn't and also clearly you are adept in it however," moving towards Caine and removing his shirt to reveal a torso swollen with muscle Fabio bent his wrists and rolled his shoulders, "You are no match for the master."
Caine waited breathing deeply, he knew the wing chun style and what to expect, even so the blinding speed and accuracy of Fabio's attack almost caught him off guard.
A salvo of rapid fire punches zeroed in on his face, short-range but powerful blows of concussive force. Weaving away from them Caine was followed, the piston like punches not ceasing, they were accompanied by a low front heel kick that did catch him and winded he went down on a knee.
The moment he did the punches bounced off his skull and chin, he was forced to take 6 or 7 of them before rolling out of the way dazed and bloodied. Rising onto a knee he kicked Fabio in the solar plexus, then leapt upright and kicked him again.
Wing Chun required close proximity to be effective but shaolin embraced all ranges and angles. Spinning Caine placed his next kick in Fabio's face knocking him sideways, a gout of crimson escaping the thick lips.
Blocking a backhand blow Caine levered his opponent onto a roundhouse knee smash that doubled him over then sank a chopping open hand blow to the neck.
Fabio fell on his knees stunned, licking bloody lips. Caine backed off finding himself out of breath due to the raw intensity of the duel.
He heard the roof door opened and faces were peering out at him – Ruth, Hiram, Joseph and Maya – they had garnered the courage to leave their homes so they could watch.
Glancing at them and back at Caine, Fabio grinned, "Your fan club," he chuckled then rose, "Just in time to see me finish you," using a skip in kick he caught Caine in the chest, battered him with three punches then hip-threw him to the ground.
"I'm younger and stronger;" the scared audience were informed, "The outcome of this isn't in doubt."
As Caine rose Fabio picked him off with two back fists and a low side kick, sagging the taller man wiped blood from his own face and met the eyes of Ruth seeing in them her longing her fear, seeing also the tanks that had so terrified her younger self.
When Fabio lashed out Caine deflected the blow almost lazily, slipped a follow up and drove his elbow into the man's face.
Fabio fell back taking a sidekick and a hook kick that helped him on his way, then Caine closed in to apply a pressure point technique.
Catching his arms Fabio held on, tired and battered he had little left, Caine's head jerked forward to deliver a fierce butt to the bridge of the nose and Fabio's legs buckled.
Then he was falling over the railing and Caine was going with him, they cleared the roof and entered free space, two dense bodies in the grip of gravity and buffeted by a cool cross wind. Down they went separated now arms and legs waving. Caine heard a cry, it was Ruth and she reached the roof edge first calling his name, Hiram reached out but was too far away.
Fabio smiled through his pain and fear, "You're a dead man Caine," he grunted and so it seemed as both of them plummeted out of control; the street rising up to meet them in a pitiless embrace.
Then Caine caught something firm and held on, not the brickwork but a flagpole jutting horizontally out of it; the flag long gone but the white painted pole sturdy enough.
Fingers almost numb he let out a gasp as his shoulders were wrenched by the end of acceleration.
Not stopping Fabio fell away growing smaller and less distinct, "Goodbye Caine," he hollered.
Arms burning as they took all his weight, weakened by the fight Caine knew he couldn't let go if he did he was finished.
"Caine," who said that? Through watering eyes he saw something dangling just above him and the voice said, "Grab it Caine."
With one hand he did so almost losing his grip on the pole, the new object was softer but firm it held his weight; it was a rope.
"Haul him up," said Hiram, "We can do it," he was trying to inspire the others; "There are 4 of us."
One by one Joseph, Maya and Ruth took the slack, Ruth saying, "Come on Caine let us pull you up, trust us."
Did he dare, did he have a choice?
With both hands now he held the rope using his feet to walk up the wall of the building. The old people grunted with effort, gasped with arthritic pain, sweat beaded their faces but they didn't let go.
"Come on," grunted Hiram, "One more big pull," he looked done in and had turned a pasty colour, "We can do it."
I can do it to thought Caine I must my life isn't meant to end like this not here and not now.
The rope snapped suddenly, sickeningly, there was no warning and the old people were thrown back, Ruth uttering a piteous sound.
Joseph blinked through perspiration and saw….two hands gripping the lowest rung of the railing.
Slowly Caine dragged himself up to safety and flopped onto the rooftop; despite his pain and weariness he summoned a smile of thanks.
"Hiram," Maya's cry alerted them all to the plight of the old man their leader who lay on his back, gripping himself and gasping in agony.
"It's his heart his weak heart," Ruth sobbed.
Caine moved between them sensing the man's energy his life force with both hands it was weak and faltering.
"He had a pace maker fitted," said Joseph, "I think the strain was too much."
"He looks terrible," Ruth muttered.
"He will live," only one voice said this and squatting down Caine applied his hands to the puny chest.
"I'll call an ambulance," Joseph promised.
"They won't get up here in time," Maya was speaking from experience.
Ruth said, "Can you save him Caine?"
"He's a handyman," Joseph derided, "He fixes fuses."
"He fixes more than that," Ruth turned on the thin man, "He's fixed our lives he's saved us and he'll save Hiram."
Energy washed through Caine cascading down through his energy centres - crown to chest to stomach to hands.
Hiram was close to death his weary heart had almost given up its long fight but as chi poured into its valves and muscles Caine felt the pump rally and the blood flow once more, the arteries clear and respiration ease. Live old man, live a while longer and grow older.
Finally the eyes flicked open and the lips made a gasp for air, colour returned to the grey cheeks and Hiram moved his arms and legs.
"My god," Joseph was disbelieving, "It's a miracle."
Releasing the old man Caine stepped back he had done all he could, he had taken a life and saved a life and his own life had been spared.
Ruth came over to him, "You're a good man," she said simply kissing him on the cheek.
Caine said nothing, the time for words had passed.