by Bob Gansler
#2 - FEB 00	ILL TIDINGS

Dressed in a red kimono with a yin-yang symbol on the back, Shang-Chi sat in a lotus position near the pond in the middle of St. James Park. He was not far from Buckingham Palace, where the Royal Family resided. However, his thoughts were not of the British Royal Family but rather of his own dysfunctional family. His father was Doctor Fu Manchu, perhaps the most evil genius that ever lived. His sister was Fah Lo Suee, a manipulative woman who had worked for and against their mutual sire’s schemes for many years. Now he had come to this park at the request of his sister. She claimed to have important news for Shang.

In motionless silence, Shang-Chi waited. He was certain that other visitors to the park must have gawked at him in simple amusement, but their thoughts did not intrude upon his inner peace. He had come to an understanding of his current situation. His father was dead, thanks in part to Shang-Chi's own actions. For a long time, Shang-Chi had harbored a secret fear that Fu Manchu would seemingly rise phoenix-like from the dead as the Devil Doctor had done numerous times before.

"No," Shang-Chi thought. "My father is dead."

His father’s death was not the only shadow of death that Shang-Chi was forced to face. He had been ripped from his contemplative life by the machinations of the right-wing extremist Argus. The madman had hoped to bring world pressure to bear on terrorism. He planned to kill the major world leaders at a United Nations conference and then to pin the blame on international terrorism. His love, Leiko Wu, lost her hand, his sometime ally Shen Kuei seemingly lost his life, and Shang-Chi himself was doused with a poison that was guaranteed to prove fatal within a year.

With the help of Leiko, Black Jack Tarr, and Clive Reston, Shang-Chi had been able to find a secret cache of his father’s immortality potion, the Elixir Vitae. The serum had apparently counteracted the effects of the poison. It had been well over a year, and Shang-Chi was still alive.

Shang-Chi knew that to be true to his name - the Rising and Advancing of Spirit - he would have to return to the adventuring life. The contemplative period was necessary to find peace after his father’s death, but now another call was urging him on.

"Shang-Chi," a voice softly said to him.

Shang-Chi opened his eyes and looked up. Sitting across from him was Fah Lo Suee. She was dressed in an elegant white blouse with a tiger pattern and a tight black skirt. Her raven-black tresses fell loosely about her head. To anyone else, she appeared to be a young woman, but Shang-Chi knew that she was decades older. She had been embroiled in their father’s schemes since the early 1930’s.

"Fah Lo Suee," Shang-Chi greeted her. "I have come here as you requested."

"I thank you, little brother," Fah said slowly. "However, you will not thank me for the bad tidings that I bring."

Shang-Chi's heart momentarily froze. He sincerely hoped that she would not shatter the understanding he had come to develop regarding their father. He got up from the lotus position and rose to his feet.

"Our father?" Shang-Chi said, his tone begging for a negative answer.

"No, it is not our father." She paused for a moment to allow Shang-Chi to experience momentary relief. "You know that I have been directing MI-6 for some time now."

"Yes," Shang-Chi replied. His sister had begun working with the British intelligence after her schemings against Fu Manchu proved fruitless.

"As such, I come into possession of certain information from time to time. This item came into my possession recently. However, I could not trust the relaying of this information to normal channels. I had to tell you personally ." She thought of the subterfuge she had to go through to locate Shang. "It took some doing to find you and contact you. Your world-traveling made you difficult to find."

"What is the news, sister," Shang-Chi said impatiently.

"Sir Denis Nayland Smith is finally dead," she said sadly. Once she had offered her love to Smith, but he had refused it. Still, there was an erotic tension that had existed between them, even though he grew older and she remained young.

"Did he die peacefully?" Shang-Chi asked in surprise and sadness.

"I do not have all the details, but when I acquire them, I shall let you know," she offered optimistically. "It is an internal affair, and MI-6 is technically charged with dealing with foreign threats." She paused, "Still …"

Shang-Chi took a moment of silence to remember the man he considered a surrogate father. They had not always seen eye to eye on everything, but they had shared the same goals. Now another of the small group was dead. Dr. Petrie had passed away a few years ago at a very old age. "Despite its gloom, I thank you for the news, sister," Shang-Chi said gratefully.

Fah nodded her head slowly. "Now I must go. It is not wise for us to be seen together. Others might think we are trying to resurrect our father’s legacy."

"There is no chance of that," Shang-Chi responded somberly. "I am the rightful lord of my father’s minions, the Order of the Golden Dawn. I have ordered them to give up their ways. There is no army of Fu Manchu." Shang-Chi had give the orders, but he knew that the dacoits, the Phansigars, the Hashashim, the Templars, and the others that comprised the Order would not embark on any plans of conquest on their own. However, he also knew that they would not disband because they believed that Fu Manchu would return once again.

"I am gratified to hear that," Fah said softly. "Now I must bid you farewell." She bowed slightly to Shang-Chi who did as well in turn."

"Farewell, sister." Shang-Chi returned to the lotus position to consider this new realization of mortality.

The building that served as the headquarters of the MI-6 division of British Intelligence was not that impressive of a structure. Its simple gray walls hid a very powerful organisation inside, an organisation devoted to protecting the island nation from foreign threats. In the past, it had counted Sir Denis Nayland Smith, Black Jack Tarr, and Clive Reston, among others, as its top agents. Now, a new regime was in place in Vauxhall, a new era being led by a woman who once sought to aid her father in conquering this England, Fah Lo Suee - the daughter of Fu Manchu.

At the main reception desk, Melissa Greville continued with her busy work. Once she had helped in Sir Denis Nayland Smith's efforts, once she had shared a love with Clive Reston, but all of that was past now. She did not really have the drive or the skills to be an agent out in the field. Still, she realized that there were external threats to the nations security, and she wanted to be a part of the crusade to protect Britain. When Fah Lo Suee had offered her this administrative post at MI-6, she had jumped at the chance.

She saw many strange things at MI-6. Fah certainly conducted business much different than Sir Denis had done. Still, despite the strangeness, she had no doubt about Fah Lo Suee's sincerity in directing the organisation. Never for a moment did she think this was all a ploy on the part of Fah Lo Suee to advance her own criminal enterprises.

Today brought an event that was more curious than most. A simple robed monk had come to the door asking for an audience with Fah Lo Suee. The security guards had tried to detain him, but he managed to subdue all four of them, though he was unarmed, though the guards had undergone strict martial arts training under Fah Lo Suee herself. The monk now stood before Melissa, once again asking in a very civil tone that he be allowed to talk with Fah Lo Suee.

"The shadow of death draws ever nearer," the monk explained. "Time runs short."

Melissa looked into the monk's eyes. She held herself to be a very good judge of character. She saw no malice in the man. He had disposed of the guards very efficiently while not seriously harming them. Melisssa knew that, by procedure, she should activate the alarm. However, she activated the intercom and asked Fah to come to the desk.

A few moments later, Fah emerged in the reception room. Her face was marked with impatience. "What is it, Miss Greville?!"

Melissa spun in her chair to face the director. "You have a visitor." She pointed towards the monk, whose head was now bowed, obscuring his features.

"What do you want?" Fah asked angrily.

"Is that any way to greet me, my deadly little flower," the monk looked up.

"Cho Je?" Fah said with marked surprise. This monk had been her mentor when she had been sent to the Monastery of Fear, Rache Churan, as a young girl. Fu Manchu wanted her to learn from the monks there as he had learned. She had learned much, including, as time went on, love. However, Fu Manchu had recalled her to Honan before she and Cho Je could truly explore their feelings for one another.

"Yes, my deadly little flower, it is I, Cho Je." The monk bowed to her.

"You're a long way from Rache Churan," Fah said sharply. "What are you doing here?"

Cho Je grimaced and brought his right hand to his stomach. "I am the bearer of ill tidings, dark news for the world but most especially for you."

"Cho Je?" Fah said with concern. "Are you ill?"

"I am dying," Cho Je replied. There was pain in his voice. "From the moment I decided to steal away from Rache Churan, I consigned myself to death. Our lama, Thugben Sung, has bred a disease within all of the monks of the monastery. Only by eating the specially prepared food of Rache Churan can one continue to exist."

"You could have sent this message, whatever it is, in another manner," Fah said.

"Not this message." Cho Je dropped to his knees. His eyes cringed and a tear escaped from one of them.

"Miss Greville!" Fah shouted as she knelt down with Cho Je. "Call an ambulance. A hospital must be able to find a way to counteract this."

"My little deadly flower," Cho Je coughed. "You of all people should know that Western science cannot hope to overcome the dark knowledge of Rache Churan. I am moments from death, and I still must give you the message. Still, it makes my heart sing to see you again."

"It pleases me to see you, too," Fah admitted. "But what news do you bring?"

"He has … risen at … Rache Churan. He will see you and your brother dead," Cho Je sputtered and then collapsed.

Fah Lo Suee rose, a stern look on her face. "Miss Greville, you can hang up the phone."

"What?"

"He is dead," she said with seeming nonchalance.

"But what did he mean?" Melissa hung up the phone. She was astounded by cold-hearted behavior of Fah.

"Fu Manchu is alive." There was no doubt in her mind. Cho Je would not have sacrificed himself for anything less dire than that.

Some weeks later, as the sun began to set, the legendary fog of London began to roll in. The famous park near the more famous Buckingham Palace was almost devoid of visitors. Those that were still there hurried to get home before the cold and the fog set in. One visitor had no illusions about leaving. He slumped back in the park bench and turned up the collar of his jacket. As he rustled his jacket, he could feel the automatic pistol strapped to his chest. He needed to provide his own protection tonight. There was nobody else looking out for Clive Reston, a Director in British Intelligence. This mission was only known to him and to the agent to whom he had assigned it.

His head turned as he saw the agent approaching. Even though she was wrapped in a long dark coat, Clive imagined he could see the strong, beautiful body that was hidden underneath. His mind momentarily slipped back to the time when he knew every contour of that body, how it felt, how it smelled, how it was so right against his own. He shook his head. That was the past. He could not afford to dwell on it.

"Leiko," he said softly.

"Clive," was the response from Leiko Wu. She was a stunning dark-haired Oriental woman.

"Just like old times, eh?" Clive offered as he motioned for Leiko to sit down next to him.

Leiko eyed him warily. "Not exactly." She sat down on the bench, although she took care not to sit too close to him. She reached into her coat and removed a sealed manila envelope which she then handed to him. "Are you sure it's safe to be meeting out in the open like this?"

"In this game, can anything be considered safe?" Clive replied. "It's as safe as could be hoped for, assuming neither of has lost the skill of losing any potential pursuers."

"Nobody followed me from the Museum." Leiko pounded her foot impatiently. She wanted to get this meeting over with. She had spent far too much time on this personal mission for Clive. He had contracted her to infiltrate the operations at the Museum for Pagan Antiquities.

{Leiko's infiltration was hinted at in Master of Kung Fu #0}

"That's good." Clive handed her an envelope in return. The documents were receipts of the transfer of funds to a Swiss bank account held by Freelance Restorations. "I hope the account's OK. There wasn't much cash when Black Jack and I decided to go back in Her Majesty's Secret Service and left old Smith's operation to you. Tarr, he's missing, probably dead, by the way."

"What!" Leiko exclaimed. "Clive! You heartless monster. When? How?"

"Sorry, old girl. Can't tell you. Top secret and all." He tried to put on a brave face, but it tore up Clive to not be able to tell her. It tore him up that Black Jack probably was the one who killed Sir Denis, though Clive had no idea why his old comrade might have done it. He could not bring himself to tell her about the death of Sir Denis.

Leiko looked deep into his eyes. They betrayed Clive for only a second, but it was enough for Leiko to see. She knew that there was more to the story, that Clive wanted to tell her, that it was hurting him, but she knew better than to push. Now she just wanted to finish this meeting and go home. Her artificial right hand tightened. This high-tech version actually responded to her brain waves. It did not feel quite the same as before Argus severed her real hand, but it was more than adequate for everyday tasks.

{Leiko lost her hand in the Master of Kung Fu serial in Marvel Comics Presents}

Leiko settled down to business. "Your hunch was correct. The Museum really is a front for something more, something more nefarious than even Fu Manchu perhaps."

"Do tell," Clive replied.

Leiko was not sure if Clive was genuinely interested or just feigning it. "It took some digging but I found out what the Museum is all about. It’s really a front for an organisation called Mys-Tech."

"Mys-Tech. Check. What’s their agenda? Typical take over the world strategy?" Clive deadpanned.

"I’m not actually sure what they’re trying to accomplish, but they certainly have collected a great deal of power. They have their own private army, called Warheads, that they send out on missions all over the world. These Warheads come back with all sorts of arcane artifacts and fantastic weaponry."

Pointing to the envelope, Leiko continued. "There’s some specs on some of the stuff that the Warheads have collected for Mys-Tech. Some of it looks like its from another planet."

Clive nodded. "I’ll have the tech lads take a look at it. Now what’s the hierarchy? Who’s running the organisation?"

"That’s the hardest part to describe." Leiko took a deep sigh. "There’s six of them that comprise the Board. There’s dossiers I created on each of them – Crowe, Wychwood, Tyburn, Rathcooole, Porlock and Gryffn. They’re over a thousand years old each."

Clive looked strangely at Leiko. "Come now. A thousand years?"

"That’s the word around the operation. It took a lot of delving to uncover that. Sounds like they made some deal with a demon and now they’re trying to build up enough power so they can renege on the deal and stand up to him."

{That demon would be the arch-fiend Mephisto}

Looking away, Clive was momentarily silent. "Well, if they’re gearing up for a private little war, it’s none of our concern. If it affects the security of this country, we’ll take appropriate action."

"Maybe you ought to put your own agents on the case," Leiko suggested. "Maybe you should have used them from the beginning." If Clive had, she would not have had to have been separated from Shang-Chi for so long.

"That wasn’t an option," Clive sighed. "I needed someone I could trust, Leiko. I needed you."

Leiko looked at Clive with suspicion. "I hope that the mission was all that you needed me for. What we had once was special, but it’s the past."

"I know, I know. Shang’s your present and your future. Old Clive is just that, old news." He rose slowly to his feet. Loneliness was starting to creep into his consciousness and he did not want to feel it grow in Leiko’s presence. "Thanks for all your work. I’ve arranged matters for a Life Model Decoy to be installed at your little house out in the country. After my agents torch the place, Mys-Tech won’t even bother looking for cover ID of Linda Woo."

Leiko extended her bionic hand and shook Clive’s. "Thanks. I can’t wait to get back to my apartment. It’s been months. I hope Shang didn’t give up on me and move out."

Disappearing into the fog, Clive Reston had nothing else to say. He would go through Leiko’s report himself tonight and then distribute it to the appropriate branches under his control. He would be alone while Leiko would be with Shang-Chi.

Standing atop the Bridge, Shang-Chi was afforded a pictureque view of the city. He could see the cold stone walls of the London Tower. He thought about all of the notorious prisoners that had been held there. His father would certainly have merited imprisonment there and the subsequent final punishment, had Fu Manchu menaced Britain in olden days. Now, the Tower was only a place of memories, Fu Manchu was only a memory. It was memory that Shang-Chi could not exorcise.

"His blood may run in my veins," Shang-Chi thought. "But my spirit is my own. The spirit transcends."

His eyes looked down to the River Thames flowing below. Barges moved in either direction, carrying their loads to docks along the river. "The river carrries them, but they know their destination. Life carries me forward, but the destination is unknown, all except the final destination of death."

A tap on the shoulder broke him from his reverie. His battle-instincts activated immediately. He whirled around, his body tensed for battle but fluid for motion.

"Shang-Chi?" a dark-haired man in an overcoat asked.

"Yes." Shang-Chi studied the man closely. He was English, his accent made that clear, and he had the air of someone involved in the 'games of deceit and death.'

"A message from your sister." He handed Shang-Chi an envelope and walked away.

"Thank you," Shang-Chi called out to the leaving man. The message was sealed in an MI-6 envelope. He tore open the envelope. Inside was a single sheet of paper. There were only a few words written upon it. They were in Fah Lo Suee's own hand. Shang-Chi instantly recognized her ornate style. The words were also written in a Chinese dialect that only a handful of people in the world knew. There was no doubt about its authenticity. The meaning of the words was also clear, and it brought a slight chill to his skin.

A few days later, the soft tunes of the Fleetwood Mac Rumors album wafted through the elegantly decorated apartment. A tasteful mix of Eastern and Western flavors marked the furnishings. It was in balance, a state that pleased the occupant of the room – Shang-Chi, Master of Kung Fu.

Shang-Chi was once again outfitted in his favorite red kimono. Many similar outfits had been torn to shreds in past battles, but Old Chin Fow was more than happy to sew Shang-Chi more of them. The bandanna about his head kept his hair from getting in his eyes. Though he had worn his hair more closely shorn as of late, he had decided to let it grow longer once again.

"Like the tides of change," Shang-Chi mused momentarily. "Extending and receding, never constant." Then he resumed the focus of his concentration, but he could not achieve the balance that the room represented.

"I am at peace. I am not at peace." He had long since been able to internalize the dual aspects of his nature – the soft-spoken philosopher and the determined warrior. However, his internal peace was not reflected in the world at large. Too many events strove to shatter his peace.

"Sir Denis is dead. My father is alive." Sir Denis had been a shining light in his life. The death grieved him. Fu Manchu had returned once again from the grave. The resurrection disturbed him.

"Leiko is hidden in the shadows. My sister has emerged from them." Months ago, Leiko had left a note saying that she had accepted a lucrative assignment for Freelance Restorations (the agency that counted Leiko and Shang-Chi as the only operatives). She claimed that she could not tell him more because of the danger involved. Was she trying to prove herself in his eyes again? He thought they had long passed that point. Fah Lo Suee had provided him with the information of Smith’s death and Fu Manchu’s revival. It appeared that after years of seeming inactivity, Fah Lo Suee was positioning MI-6 into a more active role. Why? Why now? Was it simply because Fu Manchu had returned, or did his sister have some other agenda? She was always more of their father’s offspring in mind and cunning than he ever was.

Shang-Chi sprang to his feet. To continue to meditate was pointless. He would achieve nothing but further confusion tonight. He deemed it better to sleep and perhaps his slumbering consciousness might find some answers. Otherwise, tomorrow stood before him as a new day of opportunity.

A slight noise at the apartment door did not slip by his senses. Instantly, his body tensed. Had his father’s Si Fan found him here? He sought to remove all questions from his mind. Battle was a time of determined action, not confused thought. The door opened and Shang-Chi was ready to spring forward until he saw who it was – Leiko opening the door with her key.

"Leiko," Shang-Chi said with earnest affection.

Leiko's eyes widened. "I'm gone for months without a word and that's all you have to say?" She let her handbag fall loudly to the floor.

Shang-Chi approached her with open arms. "That is all I want to say right now." He took her into his arms and kissed her deeply. Leiko was almost surprised by the intensity of Shang-Chi's passion. While she had expected it to rise in the months that they had been apart, she had not expected this level of desire.

Leiko had to pull back to catch her breath. "Hold on a moment," she gasped as she tried to get enough oxygen. "That was some welcome. I had feared that you might not be here when I got back from the mission."

Walking over to the stereo system, Shang-Chi turned down the volume. "Where else would I go? Stormhaven Castle is no longer an option."

"Not an option?" Leiko replied. Stormhaven Castle, located in Scotland, was the former home of Sir Denis Nayland Smith. It had been part of Freelance Restorations when he bequeathed it upon his death to Black Jack Tarr. "What does that mean? Tarr signed it over to me when he and Clive signed back up with Her Majesty's ..." She paused. "Oh Lord, Sir Denis. Shang, Sir Denis is …?"

Shang-Chi lowered his head. "Sir Denis Nayland Smith is dead." His took her hands in his.

"So why is Stormhaven no longer the property of Freelance?" Leiko wondered.

"It was an heir of Smith. I let the lawyers handle all of it. Legal battles do nothing for the advancing of spirit. Truth is a flexible quantity in the court of law. In the end, Stormhaven was lost to us."

"But lost to whom?" Leiko was already thinking about what the loss could mean for Freelance Restorations. The castle was an ideal place from which to run operations. Her apartment was inadequate to the task. "Sir Denis had no children."

"True, but he did have a nephew," Shang-Chi answered. "Lancaster Sneed, better known to us as …"

"Shockwave!" Leiko knew the electric-armored menace all-too-well.

"The castle, Shang." Leiko sighed. "The castle."

"In the west," Shang-Chi noted, "they say that a one's home is his castle."

"In the practical sense, perhaps. However, I'd rather be behind Stormhaven's tall brick walls if a swarm of Si Fan attacked," Leiko chuckled. She shook Shang-Chi's hands, still holding hers. "That's all Sneed got, the castle, right?"

"Yes, all of our other holdings, including all of the Swiss accounts, still belong to Freelance Restorations," Shang-Chi explained.

"Good." Leiko smiled. "Since there's a recent, and rather large deposit, that we just made from my last mission."

Bringing her close, Shang-Chi pressed his body against hers. "Now that the mission is over, can you tell me about it?"

Leiko began to drag Shang-Chi towards the door. "It was top secret mission for Clive." She paused and looked into his eyes. There was no jealousy there, as there might have been in years past. Both of them were confident and trusting in their relationship. "I'll tell you more later. Let's just go take a walk. I don't care where, let's just walk together." She began to button up her coat, but noticed that Shang-Chi was not putting on anything over his kimono. "Aren't you going to wear anything else? It's getting cold out there."

Shang-Chi smiled. "Flames burn within me. There is no need for anything else."

Sometimes it surprised Leiko how coy Shang-Chi could be. "Let's go."

NEXT ISSUE : "Misdirection"

KUNG FU WRITING

You might think that you've read this before. I originally started writing Shang-Chi for MV1. When I decided to write Master of Kung Fu for MDL, I didn't want to scrap what I had done before. So I'm recasting parts of these stories to fit in with MDL continuity. There will be all-new material as well.

Bob Gansler
29-Feb-00