A.N.- Hey guys, little brother's hogging the Playstation, not in the mood to do homework or anything else so thought "Hey, why don't I post another chapter?" So here it is.There's another POV switch in this chapter. It will be the last one I'm having in this story folks (don't cry please). Also the rest of Nick's story will be told in this chapter. Remember POV changes after the line.

8

EN ROUTE

TO AUTOSHOP

I walked into the EOD the next day to find the Chief in the giant meeting room (ya know where cops meet in all those movies and discuss SWAT tactics and stuff).

"Hey Chief," Icalled toher.

It was then I noticed a balding man in a gray suit and black newly shined shoes next to her. I also noticed that the Chief had a look on her face like she had been on the losing side of a yelling contest.

"Whose the suit?" I asked, curiously.

The Chief walked to me.

"Nick this is… uh, Agent-in-Charge Masterson," The Chief said awkwardly. "From the, Ah-hem, FBI."

The FBI? I thought. Oh damn…

"It seems they had the spa under surveillance when you…Uh…"

The man in the suit turned around.

"When you pulled your John Wayne stunt and blew it all to hell!" The man, Masterson, yelled.

He was wearing dark sunglasses that did little to hide his burning eyes, a blue tie, and an FBI tag on him.

"We've been working on this for weeks, Kang," He said angrily.

I could tell the pressure on him had increased, not being able to solve the case. And I knew how that felt.

"Sorry," I said in an apologetic tone. "Sitting around, stuffing vans, eating Krispy Kream doughnuts cramps my style."

I pulled out the picture I had printed out earlier that mourning of the Russkie leader, Rocky from my digital camera.

"You want this Rocky?" I said. "Let meshow this around andsee if I can get any takers."

Masterson looked at the picture the at me, eyebrows high.

"You tellin' me you know someone who canID this guy?" he asked, surprised.

I took the picture back with the wave of my hand.

"Maybe," I said, lightly. "Francis, an arms dealer in Venice Beach. Also the owner of an auto shop. He's also a real piece of work whose been doing business with Russians for years. Knowing him from Homicide, if there trouble then he's in it."

I turned to leave when Masterson said, "Whoa! Whoa Pal!I'm running this opt now!"

I stopped but didn't turn around; I rolled my eyes at Masterson's comment.

"You don't so much as take a leak unless I say so!"

"Speaking of which, Masterson, your fly's open," I said easliyover my shoulder. Taking a few more steps to the door.

I could hear Masterson mutter, "Aw shit," As he zipped his fly.

The Chief turned away and when Masterson was done she turned to him and said, "Masterson, We agreed to let Nick do his thing on this case. You and I both know he's our best bet."

"Damn," Masterson muttered none to quietly.

He turned to me.

"Don't make me regret this, Kang," Masterson said, not all pleased with it.

I couldn't help but be annoyed at this (not at his tone but at what he said).

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" I muttered to myself as I left the room.

-

Not long after that I found myself before Francis's auto shop.

Now this should be fun, I thought as I went in to pay my old pal, Francis, a little visit…

I sat in the lounge with the Chief, who was pouring herself a cup of café, playing a Scrabble game (I had nothing to do really until Nick came up with something, amazing since I had just gotten all that paperwork done). I had a few more questions about Nick, now that I had herd some of his story, that I wanted to ask the Chief. She knew him as well as George did.

"Is that why Nick changed his name from Wilson to Kang, His father?" I piped up, curiously.

The Chief turned to me, eyebrows raised in surprised.

"I thought you didn't like him Rosie," she said.

"I don't," I said truthfully. "I'm just curious. George told me a little of his story."

The Chief nodded, and sat down next to me at the table, her cup still in her hand.

"After his dad disappeared, Nick and his little brother Cary were shunted away to live with their late mother's relatives in Hong Kong. Nick was twelve at the time and Cary was nine," The Chief said. "The Kang's where poor and, being half Chinese, the kids where hassled all the time. I think he just wanted to fit in. But it didn't help much. The only friends he really made were in the Wong family. Nick still contacts them as much as can."

I couldn't help but be a little taken aback. I figured Nick had it tough but not that tough not at how young he had been. And yo had just started living mi vida at sixteen.

"Then why come back to LA?" I asked as the Chief took a sip of her coffee.

She put down her mug.

"To be a cop like his dad," the Chief replied. "Maybe to find out what really happened. He was born here. I don't know, I don't think he really does either. But I do know he loves this city."

"Yeah," I said, shaking my head, remembering my first 'mission' with him. "He sure loves busting it up."

"Yeah, Nick doesn't mess around on the job, huh?" the Chief said.

"Understatement," I said with a smile. "I got a gunshot wound to say that much."

The Chief smiled back at my reply.

"But I think being on suspension taught Nick a lesson or two in suttlety," She said before taking another sip of coffee.

"Really?" I said, I couldn't help but be doubtful of that…

"OW!" Francis said as I shoved him into another one of his metal toolboxes. I grabbed him by the collar of his work shirt smeared with motor oil.

Francis was chunky, his blond hair was out of place probably because I pretty much used his hair to throw him into the toolbox in the first place (What? He was being a really rude running off when I just wanted to ask him a few questions).

"What the hell do you want Kang!" He yelled, even more pissed than before.

I put the picture of Rocky in front of his face again.

"I'm lookin' for this pig and I'm betting you know him," I said to him, dangerously.

"I ain't tellin' you shit!"

I tossed the picture idly over my shoulder.

Not gonna tell me my ass! I thought. I smiled at the challenge in his words.

"Oh, I'm sure I can make you squeal," I said, enjoying the thought of beating him to a bloody pulp.

I pulled my right fist back. As soon as I did a faint shuffle behind me reached my ears. I looked over my shoulder to see two of Francis's other mechanics. Two biker looking guys with the chains, 'do rags, and WEST COUNTY CHOPPERS T-shirts. I knew these guys, and they knew me from many past experiences. I shoved Francis to the concrete floor. He ran off to the back room.

"Whadya know," I said punching my fist into my hand. "It's Crank and his brother, Smack. Ready to have your heads re-aligned?"

The first one (Crank if your curious). Run up to me kicking. I blocked him and punched him in the stomach. He stumbled back. I tripped him to the floor and swung around gaining power to punch him in the chest.

"You liketh the fist?" I said in my best Godfather accent. "The fist a good!"

Now he was pissed.

He jumped up and punched me in my chest. I stumbled back but quickly recovered to give him a jump snap-kick in the chest. He stumbled. I gave him a 'flying dragon' in the chest. He fell to the floor.

I swung around to get kicked into the stomach. I stumbled back a little. I looked at the biker.

"I'm gonna make you scream like a cat in heat, Bitch!" I said angrily.

I swung around with a jump reverse crescent-kick. I then ran at him punching. He stumbled back. I gave him a 'dragon fist' in the chest. He fell to the floor.

Suddenly, I heard a door open behind me.

Damn it!

It was another mechanic. He had a wrench in his hand.

Great.

I went to a toolbox and kicked it open and grabbed my own wrench. I swung around. Now we were both armed.

I ran at him first, swinging the wrench at his side. He swung out of the way and tried to aim his own hit. I dodged out of the way quickly. I gave him a few quick kicks. He stumbled back. I quickly I chucked the wrench at him. He fell to the floor knocked cold.

I swung around just in time to see Francis run out the door with a handgun in his motor oil hand.

"Francis," I said running after him.

I followed him outside. I saw him run around the corner to a dead end alley.

I stopped and started walking.

"You can run," I said in a singsong voice. "But you can't-".

At that moment Francis pulled out of the alleyway in a purple Cadillac and pulled on to the road.

"Aw Shit! He's off!"

I ran to my own Cadillac. Jeez, everyone's always in a hurry in this town, I thought as I turned on the car and got ontothe road. I flipped on the sirens and raced after him. Francis raced down the street, I tore after him. He took a sharp turn. I did the same, narrowly missing a sidewalk, and afew people.

"Damn! Look at that," said on of the pedestrians. "Crazy!"

"Whoops! SORRY!" I yelled back.

I tore after Francis, once again. Pulling out one of my Desert Eagles. I fired at Francis's car.

"You can't out run a bullet, sucker!"

He swung around and fired a few shots at me. I dodged swerving back and forth. I fired a few shots at his car. The bullets hit Francis's car. He hit on the gas.

I couldn't help but laugh, amused at Francis's antics.

"Run! Forrest! Run!" I yelled at him, hitting on the gas and the NOS.

I soon got right beside him as we turned on to the Highway. I turned hitting him on the side. He did the same.

"You're not taking me Kang!" he yelled shooting at me.

"We'll see about that Francis!" I yelled back.

I pulled back and shot at his left back tire. I pulled back a little and then rammed his back tire. He spun out completely. Just to be safe, I shot out one more of his tires.

Francis had stopped. He couldn't drive off. So he stepped out of the car, and threw the gun to the ground, muttering cuss words. I got out of my own car. Desert Eagles pointing at him.

"Put your hands above your head!" I demanded. "NOW!"

-

A while later, me and Francis were at the EOD in the interrogation room. Francis sat at the table, frustrated. I paced behind him. I had interrogated Francis for 30 straight minutes, under the supervision of Agent Masterson. What had I come up with from Francis about Rocky? Zip, zero, zilch, ling.

I was really starting to believe that he was just a waste of my time.

"You know Francis," I piped up after getting another big nothing on my last question. "With a girly name like that you'll make a nice bitch for some hairy-ass bad boy, down in the joint."

Now he was even more frustrated, and that was just the reaction I wanted. He hit the metal table with his hands.

"Listen!" He yelled. "I'm tellin' you the truth!"

I turned to him.

That's a first, I thought to myself.

"I've never dealt with this 'Rocky Grozny' before but I heard he's a real bad-ass," Francis said. "You wanna find him? Check out the Gulag Club in Hollywood."

I looked to Masterson. It wasn't much info, but it was enough for me to go on. He looked at Francis, arms still folded across his chest, and then looked to me and nodded.

I looked to Francis.

"Pleasure doin' business with ya," I said when I left the room.

I had a nightclub to go to.