Chapter 12

Jade pushed her way back inside the restaurant, ignoring the comments from the two guards on the door. The men had been talking about her, she knew. Kim was not the only sibling with a blazing temper and as her brother swaggered up behind her, the woman rounded on him.

'Don't even start' she snapped.

'Then don't give me cause.'

'You're my brother, not my keeper. How dare you make comment on what I do?'

Kim smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes. 'It's not what you do, it's who you do. You should be more choosy of the company you keep.'

'Who I …? Oh now wait one minute' Jade protested. Her night had been an innocent meeting. Ok, well maybe not quite so innocent and she would have been willing to go further if the telephone had not rung, but now she was full of righteous indignation.

'I don't want your attitude and I don't want your excuses. I forbade you from seeing him and you went against my wishes.'

Jade stood her ground, facing off against her brother whilst her slim frame shook with anger. 'We had this conversation once before. Maybe in the old country I would have to bow to your wishes brother, but we aren't in the old country. This is America and we are all equal. You can't boss me around or dictate who I see or who I date. I'll date who I damned well please.'

Kim's hand slapped against Jade's face with such power that she staggered backwards in shock and pain. She felt the burning of the blow against her already bruised cheek but refused to touch it. Her eyes burned with hatred and she readied herself, legs slightly bent and arms held in front of her, body loose but ready. Kim was not the only one proficient in marshal arts.

The Chinese man didn't pause. Kim's temper was legend and he snarled as he came at his sister with a welter of strikes that were faster than the eye could follow. Jade was equally as fast and parried those blows easily. As Kim stepped away, she took her cue and pirouetted on one perfectly balanced leg to deliver a roundhouse kick to Kim's face. At the last moment the man side stepped and grasped Jade's foot, throwing the woman backwards. Jade tumbled onto the floor, rolled easily and stood again in one graceful movement as Kim came at her again. This was sibling rivalry gone mad and there was no light of compassion in Kim's eyes. Temper had taken away his control and now this was not his sister, but just another combatant who needed to be taught just how superior Kim was.

In a whirlwind of punches Kim came at Jade again and this time, with the pain of the blows that had already connected, Jade could not ward off all the strikes. Kim's fist connected with her slim body time and again and now her brother was using feet as well as hands. Jade started backing up as another fist connected with her left cheek. The woman felt the skin tear and her lip split so that she licked coppery blood. She backed again, trying desperately to ward off the blows although her forearms were numb from the constant impacts. She was tiring fast and was in no doubt that Kim would not stop until she was unconscious or worse. Desperately she ducked once more and this time Kim staggered and tripped against one of the tables set for dinner. As the man righted himself, Jade got herself into position and let out a calming breath. She visualised her fist hitting a wall at the other side of Kim's face, not contacting with it, but punching right through the flesh and blood. Kim was marginally too slow to duck and with the full force of her body behind the strike, Jade hit out at her brother's head, letting out a war cry yell as she did so.

Kim had only a fraction of a second for his eyes to register surprise and anger before the fist connected with his nose. The athletic Chinese man's body collapsed to the ground unconscious in a spray of blood and Jade staggered against the nearest table to keep from falling. Kim was out for the count and now she knew he would be mad enough to kill her for real when he awoke. It was no use going to her father for support. Old man Lin was a traditionalist who thought that the men of the family ruled the women's lives, and Jade's Mom had lived by that rule for so long that she would be of no use to the girl either.

Stunned, Jade staggered towards the door of the restaurant, shaking off the hands of the two doormen who came partly to support her and partly to stop her from leaving. She made it out into the cooler air of the night and, holding her shawl up to her face to disguise the blood and damage, she staggered around the corner and headed for the phone booth there. With shaking hands, she punched buttons on the phone and waited.

'Bay City Police Department' a man's voice answered.

'I need to speak with Sergeant David Starsky' Jade said, fighting to keep her voice from breaking down into tears.

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Some chairs are not meant to be comfortable. Some chairs are overstuffed and make your back ache when you sit on them for too long. Some chairs are too soft and make your neck ache. Some chairs are just plain wood, with no padding. Dave Starsky's study of seating arrangements didn't go past those three types but he knew for sure that the chair he now sat upon belonged to the latter. It was rough wood, hard and unforgiving.

How long he had been sitting in the chair was difficult for him to make out and rising from it was impossible due to the rough ropes biting into his wrists and ankles, pulling his hands around to his back and securing his feet to the front legs of the chair. Not that he wanted to wriggle too much just at the moment. Wriggling would indicate that he was once more awake and until he could distinguish just where he was and who he was with, Starsky opted for feigning sleep. It seemed the safest bet. Cowardly? Maybe, but it was more practicality. Anyone who ties an unconscious man to a chair isn't likely to want to give that same man a champagne reception when he awakes.

The sack was still over Starsky's head when wakefulness claimed him. Consciousness came back slowly to the bound cop and with it a pounding headache and a feeling that he was going to toss his cookies at any moment. For long minutes Starsky was locked in a silent battle with his stomach. Throwing up was a great signal to those who had captured him to tell them that he was awake. It was difficult to breathe beneath the sacking hood. The air around his face felt stuffy and stale and the cloth smelled of old grain and mustiness. It felt dirty and the air felt unclean as he breathed shallowly but evenly through the sacking and when Starsky opened his eyes he felt the grit and dust from the dirty fabric catching at his eyelashes and falling into his eyes making them feel as though he'd had boulders inserted under his eyelids.

The brunet fought to keep his body still whilst he listened to what was going on around him. He seemed to be in a large space because the machine gun rattle of angry Chinese voices echoed slightly around the walls. It was cold, and yet he felt his shirt and jeans still in place. That was something at least. Worse than waking up tied and vulnerable was waking up tied, vulnerable and naked. Somehow, being clothed made Starsky feel a little safer. It was an illusion, he knew, but he hugged that illusion to him. From bitter experience he knew that any tiny feeling of safety might help him to better withstand whatever was going to happen to him. As a cop he'd been unfortunate enough to have been in similar positions too many times before and mentally he braced himself for what was surely to come.

Did all cops get beaten up this regularly?

Nope. Starsky snickered silently to himself. It's just you bein' so lucky Davey boy he reasoned. For one sickening moment Starsky thought about the young cop who'd been due to meet him at his house. Had these bastards got Boone too? And if they had, how would the younger guy fare?

The Chinese voices quietened for a moment. Kim! It had to be Kim and the Red Dragons. How many more Chinese gangs were willing to take out a cop? Damn! Starsky pricked his ears as there was a sound of struggling. Someone was breathing heavily as though they'd been exercising too much, or had maybe lifted a heavy weight. The hard breathing ceased and then there was the sound of a fist hitting something hard and yet with a certain give to it. It didn't sound like a fist hitting flesh, that was a wet, squishy sound. This was more like…. Starsky searched his memory for where he'd heard that sound before and it came to him suddenly. It sounded like a punch-bag down at Vinny's gym and now that he listened more carefully he could hear feet dancing about against the floor and the sound of breath being exhaled as another punch struck.

Someone was exercising? What was that all about?

Starsky had little time to muse upon the fact however as suddenly a pointed finger located the deep black bruise over his broken rib and poked hard against his side. Without being able to see in order to prepare himself, Starsky let out a deep groan, betraying the fact that he was awake and in the next instance the hood was ripped from his head and he took his first lungful of clean fresh air.

The Chinese man at his side grabbed a handful of Starsky's hair and pulled his head back so that Starsky looked up into cold, bright almond eyes. For a moment those eyes stared down at him and then the hand let go of the brunet's hair and Starsky head slumped forwards. The move didn't exactly enhance his headache but the fresh air outside the cloying confines of the hood made him feel more awake. Opening his eyes, Starsky took his first look around.

Kim was stripped to the waist in front of him, dancing like a professional boxer around a full sized punch-bag hung from the ceiling of the large room. It was a non descript room with only the punch-bag, Starsky's chair and a plain wooden table. The floorboards were bare and the walls were painted a sickly cream colour with paint peeling away in the corners.

To one side of Starsky stood two more of the Chinese goons he'd seen at the restaurant and the cop felt someone out of eyesight behind his back also.

Kim continued to dance around the punch-bag. He wore boxing gloves but he also kicked at the bag, landing blow after blow against the soft red leather. As he kicked he let out yells which seemed to fuel his zeel and as the sweat poured down the lithe body, Kim went into a final welter of blows ending with a huge roundhouse kick which set the punch-bag spinning.

For a moment the Chinese man stood breathing hard before turning to Starsky a though seeing him for the first time.

'Do you know who your friends are, detective?' Kim asked.

It was an odd question and took Starsky off guard. 'Well it wouldn't include you. Sorry to disappoint.'

Kim smiled. 'No, I mean do you really know who your friends are? Sometimes we can be very surprised by what we find. Sometimes those we least suspect turn out to be our enemies. You fucked my sister.'

Starsky managed a crooked grin. 'You got the wrong guy mister.'

'I don't think so. She seemed to enjoy the time she spent with you.'

Starsky started to struggle against the ropes holding him in place. 'Don't you lay a fuckin' finger on her' he snarled.

'Or else what? You'll breathe on me? You seem to forget, I hold all the cards. Including the ace card. The mole in the cop's camp.'

The brunet shook his head. 'We knew about Patterdale long ago' he snapped.

'I forgot. You cops are all so clever.'

'We aim to please.'

Kim stood to one side of the punch-bag. 'You've known him a long time?'

'Uh huh. There aint no love lost between us.'

'Then you won't mind this' Kim said, reaching up to unzip the side of the punch-bag. A moment later a body toppled out from the interior of the bag that Kim had been so expertly pummelling only moments before. Clay Patterdale's body lay curled into a ball, bloody and broken and a low moan escaped his blood frothed lips.

'Is that what you do to the guys that help ya?' Starsky asked quietly as he watched the body on the ground. He didn't particularly like Patterdale and he knew the feeling was mutual, but no-one deserved this kind of treatment.

A voice from behind him joined in the conversation. 'Patterdale got in the way. It's a shame. I almost got to like the guy, but there again, partners are meant to be like brothers, aren't they Starsky. I couldn't have him blowing my little operation out of the water, could I?' Joe Boone walked around so that Starsky could see him fully. 'Just like you and that fag Hutchinson huh?'