A/N: Thank you to 88dragon06 and Brina for your wonderful and kind reviews! You have made my day by letting me know that someone is enjoying this little story…besides me! Hopefully, we will see some more good stories in this fandom soon. There's not nearly enough fanfics from Jason Statham's movies for my liking! Hehe! I know this may be moving a bit slow to start, but we'll be getting to the action soon, now that everyone has been properly introduced. And, while I am trying to stay true to the movie with dialogue and scenes, obviously I am changing some of it to fit my storyline. And if anyone knows what hotel Luke checked into in the movie, please let me know! I like to keep things as accurate as possible, but since I couldn't find any reference to it, I just chose a nice, swanky hotel in NYC.

Luke: No one's gonna care if you get the hotel name exactly right. We've got more to worry about than those things – like the Russians and the Triads.

Me: *puts hands on hips* Well, maybe so, but the story would have been different if you had checked into a Motel 6, so it is important.

Luke: *rolls eyes* Can we just get on with the story, please? I haven't had anything to eat since I left Tatum's apartment, and I'm starving here! I was homeless for a year! *narrows eyes* You are going to still make Wolf bring me that sandwich, aren't you?

*crickets chirp*

Luke: Lisa…

Me: *stares at computer screen, typing feverishly* You'll see when we get there.

Luke: *mutters under his breath and sulks* Fine, but they want me to get that damn sandwich, don't you readers?! I'm not any good to anyone if I'm faint with hunger.

Me: Fine, we'll see if they want you to get your damn sandwich. If they do, I'll make sure Captain Wolf brings it to you!

Luke: *Bats eyelashes* Okay, girls (and any guy readers). You heard her… Leave a review at the bottom, and tell her that I need my sandwich!

Me: Now shut up, so they can read!

Luke: *holds up flashing arrow sign at the review button at the bottom of the page*

Tatum pulled her disposable gown and shoe covers off, removed her gloves, threw it all in the biohazard waste bin, and then scrubbed her hands and forearms. She briskly walked to her office, her shoes squeaking on the industrial tile floor. The noise irritated her.

Oh, hell, who was she kidding? She wasn't upset at her shoes… She was upset at the autopsy she had just done. A seventeen year old girl, pretty and slim – had been a cheerleader and student council president at her high school. She had most likely never been in any trouble, but all it had taken was one party. One party where the kids were getting high. One party where the cocksure, preppy boy brought out a bag of cocaine…a bag of cocaine that had been laced with microscopic glass fragments. Lindsey Martin had no doubt snorted a line, thinking no harm would come to her for giving it a try. She had only been looking for a high – an enhancement that would allow her to enjoy her night.

What she had received when she had snorted the laced powder into her lungs had been thousands of tiny lacerations to her bronchioles and alveoli, causing hemorrhaging in her lungs. She had basically drowned in her own blood.

Tatum pressed her lips into a thin line. What a waste! She would have to break it to the parents that their daughter had died from drug use. She had no idea how they would react. And to top it off, she was now concerned that others would be coming into her morgue after snorting a line of the laced blow.

She sat down heavily at her desk and pulled the Dictaphone toward her, so she could begin dictating her autopsy findings. She was no farther than the external exam when Tracey, her secretary, sashayed into her office and placed a Post-It note on the center of her desk.

"You had a message. Said it was an emergency."

Tatum picked up the note and read it. Call Mr. Cage from Jersey ASAP. Emergency. 212-603-2795. "Who's Mr. Cage?" she wondered out loud.

Tracey just shrugged and walked back to her desk. Once she was gone, Tatum got up and shut her door, then picked up her phone. Maybe it was a family member of one of her patients…

She listened as the phone rang twice, and then was greeted by a coarse voice. "Tate?"

Her stomach dropped. It was Luke. But why was he using fake names? And where did he get a cell phone? "Luke?" she choked out. She hadn't thought she would see him again.

"Yeah. I'm sorry I called you at work, but I didn't know who else I could trust."

Her heart started pounding. "What are you talking about?"

"Look, I don't want to get into it over the phone – especially your work phone. Can you meet me?" he asked.

"Sure. Where?" She was already standing, pulling her purse out of the desk drawer she locked it up in during the day.

He hesitated. "Do you remember where I told you I took Annie on our wedding night?" She immediately knew that he did not want to give his location away by name over the phone.

"Yes," she said, recalling an old conversation they'd had over pizza and beer. "I'll be there shortly."

xXx

Luke stood in a corner of the lobby of the W Hotel in Times Square. He impatiently checked the time on his newly-acquired cell phone for the thousandth time. After what seemed an eternity – but in reality was only half an hour – Tatum walked through the door. He stepped closer, so she'd see him. Without speaking or publically acknowledging her, he stepped into an elevator and pushed the "door close" button as soon as she was onboard.

He punched the button for the tenth floor, and then looked over at her. "Thank you for coming."

She stared down at her feet. "You're welcome… Luke, what's going on?"

"We'll all find out in a minute," he said cryptically.

"We? Who's we?"

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. He took her elbow and guided her down the hall, stopping in front of room 1012. Silently, he slid his keycard into the slot and pushed the door open when the light flashed green. Tatum followed him into the room, and then stopped dead in her tracks. She stared at the young girl who was perched on the end of the bed, watching cartoons.

She looked over at Luke, her eyes full of questions. What the hell was going on?

Luke took the remote from the girl and switched the television off. "We all need to talk."

The girl looked over at him. "Why did you save me?" she asked simply.

Tatum sank down onto the edge of the bed and held her silence. She was familiar with how Luke worked, and she knew that she would find out what was going on soon.

"I didn't save you; you saved me. I'm paying you back. My name's Luke," he said, extending his hand to the girl. "This is Tatum. She's the doctor I told you about on our way here."

She looked at his hand momentarily before putting her small one in his and shaking. "Mei."

He stood up and walked to the minibar. "You have parents, Mei?"

"I have a father."

"What's his name?"

She popped a pretzel into her mouth. Tatum assumed she had gotten the bag from the minibar Luke was currently raiding. "Chang Quan."

Tatum's breath caught in her throat. Chang Quan was no good… He was into organized crime, one of the Triad leaders in the city. How did this young girl fit into Triad dealings?

Luke took a small bottle from the fridge and twisted the top off. "If we're talking about the same guy, he didn't have any kids the last time I checked. And any he made since then wouldn't be a day over three years old."

"I'm adopted," she said, a trace of irritation in her voice, as if she had answered this question before.

"Did he bring you from back home?" Luke asked, sitting back down beside her.

She nodded.

"Chang isn't the fatherly type. Why are you here, Mei?"

She looked into his eyes for a few seconds, and then simply replied, "To count."

Chills ran down Tatum's spine. The Triads were using a young girl to keep their records? Where were her parents? How did she become a pawn in their deadly game?

"You were sent over by the old guy, Chang's boss. What's his name? Old school. No computers, no electronic trails… Just what you have in your head, right?"

She looked up at him. "You know Jiao Han?"

"I know of him," Luke replied.

She stood up and walked over to another chair. "He told me a number, a very long number. I was going someplace where I would get another number and more instructions, but then the Russians came and shot everyone. Then the police came, and I ran away. Now you know everything. Happiness for you?" she said, a biting tone to her voice.

"Luke?" Tatum asked, completely lost. "What is going on?"

He sighed and sat down on the bed before beginning to explain. "Earlier, after I left your house, I wandered around a bit before I ended up in the subway. I was in a…bad place. Mentally." He looked into her eyes, trying to communicate what he meant without saying it in front of Mei. Her eyes widened in understanding. "While I was in the station, I noticed Mei here looking like she was trying to hide from someone. Then I saw a pack of Russian mob. They were looking for her. They followed her onto the train, and I followed them." He didn't go into details about what he did when he found them.

"After the train stopped, Mei took off, and I followed her up to the street. Kolfax and Reddick had her and were putting her into the back of their car when a carload of more Russians showed up. I grabbed her, and we took off in the squad car. We managed to lose them, but then I wasn't sure what to do, so we came here, and I called you. Now you're caught up."

She eyed him. "And the new clothes…the expensive hotel room…?"

He smiled grimly. "Compliments of Mr. Ivanov, one of the Russian gentlemen…currently deceased."

She grimaced. She did not need to know that he had just committed identity theft. "So, what's your plan?"

Luke shook his head. "Don't know yet. We gotta figure out what's going on first." He turned back to Mei. "You wanna go back to Han Jiao?"

Mei shook her head. "I make too much trouble. Bad business. After I do what he asks, he kills me. Good business."

Tatum ached for this young child who already knew too much about death and business, as she referred to it. She thought back to Lindsey Martin and how different the two girls' lives were, yet this girl was still alive and the other dead.

"So, what about this number?" Luke asked, instinctively knowing the number was the key.

"It's a long, boring number. I can tell it to you," she said, a light in her eyes at being able to do something to make Luke happy after he had done so much for her.

He stared at her intently. "It wouldn't mean anything to me. But how do you know it's one number and not a bunch of separate numbers?"

She slowly grinned at him. "You're a crazy man, but not so stupid."

Tatum chuckled at that. Mei certainly had Luke summed up to a T…

He grinned at her, too. "Is there anything interesting to you about these numbers?" he asked. Tatum could see he was different from how he had been at her apartment the night before. He no longer appeared lost and apathetic. He looked alert…sharp. He was on the hunt after a long, forced absence, and she pitied anyone who stood in his way.

"Maybe a few of them."

"Why?"

Mei looked as if she was picturing the number in her head. "Because they have a three or seven before them. All the numbers are random. But five of them has a seven before, and eight of them has a three before. That's too many times to be random."

"It's a code," Luke said softly, understanding dawning on him. "What else?"

"Nothing."

"So, it's the three and the seven that are interesting because they happen too many times to be random. Because they're not numbers. They're words. Right-left or left-right. Old school. Combination to a safe."

A silence permeated the air of the room as they all digested his words. Tatum felt a shiver go through her while watching Luke figure out the mystery. It was as if the past year had never happened, and he was back in the game.

"How did you end up in the subway, Mei?" Tatum asked quietly, trying to mentally piece the puzzle together.

She looked over at her. "I was running from the Russians. They hit our car, and then shot everyone and took me to some old man. They kept trying to get me to tell them the number, but I wouldn't. I kept telling them I didn't know what they were talking about."

"How did they know about the number?" She had a gnawing suspicion that Luke's old colleagues were involved somehow.

She hesitated. "Ling."

"Who's Ling?" Luke asked.

"She worked for Uncle Han. One night, she told me that my mother had died. They weren't going to tell me because then I might not do what they said. But she told me…" Tears filled her eyes.

"I'm so sorry about your mother," Tatum said softly and walked over to the girl, putting her arm around her small shoulders.

Mei sniffed. "She was sick. My father ran away when I was a baby, so now I have no one."

"That's not true," Luke interjected. "Now, you have me."

Tatum squeezed her shoulders. "And me. And we won't let anything happen to you," she promised.

End Notes: All right, you heard Luke. He's starving, so drop us a note and let me know if you think Luke needs his sandwich from Toscani's…