by Bob Gansler
# 10 - Oct 2001	The Deadly Game

Hong Kong

The flight from London to Hong Kong had passed without incident. This had come as a pleasantly unexpected relief to three passengers on British Airways Flight 057 - Shang-Chi, Leiko Wu, and J.B. Reston. Shang-Chi, in particular, had been wary of deliberate and deadly obstacles on that path that had led them here. He had been suspicious of everyone that they had encountered from Limehouse to Heathrow Airport. The streets of the city provided ample opportunity for Fu Manchu's forces to move against them. The airport, with its thousands of bustling travelers, was a harrowing experience. Any one of the international travelers could be a member of the Si-Fan, devoted to destroying any who stood against their dreaded master.

Either no assassins had lined their path, or the minions of the Phantom of Fear had not had the opportunity to act. Wanton murder was not the way of the Si-Fan. Dr. Fu Manchu prized the old ways of battle - death was to be meted out with physical skill or scientific cunning. Employing firearms was anathema to the Si-Fan.

None of the trio had checked any luggage; they had carried on all of their baggage. Checking luggage might have invited undesired inspection. As it was, Shang-Chi was surprised that J.B.'s bag had fooled the X-ray machine into not revealing the weapons of both East and West inside.

"Chop, chop," J.B. beckoned as he nodded his head in a particular direction. "This will get us out of the crowd quicker and into a taxi."

"We shall follow," Shang-Chi answered. From the tales that J.B. had spun, it was obvious that the veteran agent had come through Hong Kong many times in the past. He trusted that J.B.'s words about knowing the city "like the back of his hand" were not idle boasts.

The words were soon proved true. J.B. had managed to navigate them through the throng with a speed that Shang-Chi found startling. They were now outside on the curb hoping to find a taxicab. J.B. traded some verbal jabs with the local citizenry that even made the normally steadfast Leiko blush. The competition for transportation was rather fierce but J.B.'s wiles soon prevailed.

Once inside of the cab, there was a feeling, however fleeting it might turn out to be, of relief. J.B. had hidden pistol on his wrist, spring-loaded for quick release.

"Where to, mac?" the driver said in a mocking tone. He had heard them calling in Mandarin Chinese but he nonetheless addressed them in English.

Shang-Chi handed the driver a card with Shen "Cat" Kuei's address on it. "To this address, if you please," he said in Mandarin.

"Okey-dokey," the driver replied. A smile came upon his face. Its sincerity was doubtful. It was as if he were deliberately playing to a stereotype.

"Are you sure that's the best place to start?" Leiko wondered. "Shen isn't much for staying around the house. We'd probably have better luck in the warehouse district, where he operates his 'business', if you can call it that."

"The likelihood is greater but also is the danger. Cat's associates do not comport themselves with the honor that he himself does. An intrusion upon their business domain could be taken as an aggressive act. We have enough enemies in the hordes of the Si-Fan."

"Aren't you forgetting an important little fact, son?" J.B. commented. His eyes darted around the cab. He couldn't see anything suspicious but his instincts warned him of danger. "The last time you talked with Mr. Kuei, he called you to berate you for attacking him, a fact clearly impossible with you being thousands of miles away."

"True," Shang-Chi replied calmly. "An obvious attempt at misdirection on my father's part. He seeks to divide potential allies. Shen Kuei and I have stood on opposite sides of a line before, but reason rules his spirit. He will see reason."

"I certainly hope so, Shang," Leiko added worriedly. "He's one of the few men who can go toe-to-toe with you."

The taxi maneuvered its way out of the airport area and headed for residential district. The trio of passengers continued to discuss what actions they might undertake there. The foremost priority was to bring in Shen Kuei as an ally, or at least a non-aggressor. The next step would be to locate Fu Manchu's base of operations. There was obviously a widespread network of agents sowing discord in the city, advocating for a return to British rule. The controversy was pushing the diplomatic relations between the United Kingdom and the People's Republic of China to the brink of war.

Leiko and J.B. continued to discuss strategies, but Shang-Chi fell strangely silent. He was honing his senses. Something told him that there was something amiss. His eyes focused on the driver, but no menacing action was forthcoming from him. The glass plate that separated the driver from the passengers had been surreptitiously shut. That was the first clue. The second was the almost imperceptible hint of mimosa in the air. "This is the danger, then," Shang-Chi thought. He well knew that many of Fu Manchu's anesthetic potions were redolent of that flower.

Shang-Chi's comrades had not detected the slight scent. He decided to not alert them. Apparently, Fu Manchu wanted them alive. The driver would undoubtedly take them to some stronghold of the Si-Fan, perhaps even to the nerve center of the operation. This was an unexpected turn, but it could be to their benefit if it was allowed to play out, though perhaps not to its nefarious completion.

Continuing in silence, Shang-Chi concentrated on his body's autonomic functions - his heartbeat, his breathing, and his pulse. By properly harnessing them, he could protect himself from the effects of the anesthetic gas. He fell into a deeper level of inner consciousness while the invisible mimosa-laden vapors continued to seep in. The effects of the gas, like many of Fu Manchu's machinations, were very subtle. J.B. and Leiko were completely incognizant of the anesthetic. Shang-Chi appeared as if he were the first to fall under its influence; J.B. and Leiko followed quickly.

The driver did not even dare a furtive look in the rear-view mirror, for fear of giving away his intentions. Only after the requisite amount of time had passed from when he had commenced the introduction of the gas into the passenger compartment did his eyes glance up. The image in the mirror told him that the mimosa-like mixture had accomplished its purpose. All three passengers were sprawled out.

With a sense of accomplishment, the driver set a new course through the busy streets of Hong Kong. He made sure that he was not being followed. The Celestial One had warned all of the Si-Fan who had driven to the airport as faux taxicabs that there was the possibility that the trio would have associates. A few minutes in the congested traffic assured him that there was no backup for his victims.

While J.B. and Leiko slept in a drug-induced sleep, Shang-Chi was fully conscious. The flow of mimosa gas had ceased, its purpose accomplished. The dosage administered would keep a normal person out for another hour or so. Shang-Chi did not feel any of his faculties dulled. He waited to know where they were going although he did not want to reach that destination quite yet.

Opening one eye, by the barest sliver, Shang-Chi surveyed the taxicab's location. A prolonged look at the driver assured him that their opponent was no longer concerned about them. He could see that they were still heading for the shore, although not to the area that they had requested. Still, this section was not unfamiliar to him. Cat had holdings in this area, although they were just a minor part of his enterprises, as Shang-Chi remembered. In fact, the path that they were taking was the convoluted way which one had to take to reach those buildings. He had no doubt as to their destination now. The moment to act had arrived.

Seated directly behind the driver, Shang-Chi had a perfect angle through which to strike, The blow would have to be perfectly timed and placed while taking into account the poorly-paved streets and poorly-maintained suspension system of the car. Shang-Chi closed his barely-opened eye and concentrated. He felt the rumbling beneath him. He pictured in his mind the glass and the driver's head. A single blow would have to render the driver unconscious; otherwise he might be able to warn confederates. Shang-Chi inhaled and balled up his right hand into a fist. Without another second's hesitation, he lashed out. The glass yielded to his power and precision. It shattered, and his living weapon continued on to impact upon the driver's skull. The driver instantly slumped over.

The heavy traffic meant that they were only crawling along at a snail's pace. The driver's lack of consciousness meant that they only idled a little before coming to a stop by hitting the rear bumper of the car ahead. Another well-placed blow shattered the rear window. Shang-Chi scampered out and then dragged out the insensate bodies of J.B. and Leiko. Carrying one over either shoulder, he wove his way through the astonished other drivers and disappeared into an alley.

The building to which the now-escaped captives had been intended had undergone a startling transformation in recent days. Once it had been Shen Kuei's base of operations in this part of Hong Kong. Now it was a headquarters, a command post, and a throne room all wrapped into one. The dingy walls had been draped with ornate dragon-adorned tapestries. The floor had been covered with exquisite Persian rugs. Colorful oriental lamps hung in place of soulless fluorescent fixtures. There was a sense of majesty to the place, and that royal power centered upon the circular sanctuary that lay in the center. Seated upon a throne carved of ivory was the leader of the Si-Fan, the President of the Council of Seven, the Phantom of Fear - Dr. Fu Manchu.

As he rose from his seat, his long yellow robe straightened out beneath him. Its effect made him appear to glide over the ground. While the room was filled with many Si-Fan engaged in various tasks, his feline emerald eyes only fixed upon one of his minions, on perhaps the only being for whom the Devil Doctor felt love - Xan-Chi.

Without even asking the question, Fu Manchu knew the answer. Though Xan-Chi's steely resolve revealed nothing, Fu Manchu could perceive.

"Our guests are late." It was not a question to the clone.

"A driver reported, in code, that he had picked up the false one and his associates," Xan-Chi replied. "Your brilliant anesthetic must have worked on them. It is perfect."

"The Si-Fan, despite their devotion, are not."

"Should I lead out a detachment and search for the false one?" Xan-Chi eagerly awaited the opportunity to face his own face again.

"No," Fu Manchu responded. There was no disappointment or anger in his voice. "They are now aware that we are aware of them. You will proceed against Fah Lo Suee. As I have previously declared, you shall be my weapon against her."

Xan-Chi bowed. "I live but to serve."

Fu Manchu shook his head. "You live to ensure to the world that the brilliance of Fu Manchu will not pass away. Even the Elixir Vitae is no ironclad guarantee of immortality. Too many times have I come close to everlasting death. You are to be my loyal link to the future. Once Fah Lo Suee was to fulfill that role, but the blood of her Russian mother would not accept obedience. Fleurette Petrie might have provided the perfect child for me, but she was lost to me. Sha ... your doppelganger disappointed me. Only with Fu Manchu as the sole progenitor could the perfect descendant be molded. You are my perfection incarnate!"

Fu Manchu then conveyed his orders to Xan-Chi and selected others. Xan-Chi was to stake out the local MI6 safehouse; Fah Lo Suee would undoubtedly go there. The others were to scour the area in hopes of finding Shang-Chi; they would undoubtedly be unsuccessful. However, there was a slight chance that his false son and comrades might be found.

The MI6 supersonic Concorde had made splendid time from London. Traveling along a flight path filed with no flight controller, the specially-treated airplane slipped past the detection systems of all the nations that lay between London and Hong Kong. Landing on a private airfield, the plane stopped only long enough to discharge its trio of passengers before launching itself back into the air.

The threesome who emerged from the plane carried what little baggage they had in their hands. The graceful lithe figure of Fah Lo Suee was bookended by the hulking frames of her bodyguards Mingo and Han.

During the speedy flight, she had repeatedly tried to reach J.B. Reston's cellphone. Shang-Chi, Leiko and J.B. had departed from England first but the commercial airliner should have brought them to Hong Kong not too long ago. It vexed her that she was not able to contact him. He was the string by which she could manipulate Shang-Chi. His (or really MI6's) was the money that was financing the resurrected Freelance Restorations in this battle against Fu Manchu. Without J.B., she would not be able to maneuver Shang-Chi how she had devised against their father.

A local MI6 agent drove out onto the tarmac to pick up the new arrivals. Fah Lo Suee sat in the passenger seat while Mingo and Han squeezed into the back.

"To what do we owe the pleasure, Director?" the driver asked.

"If you have to ask, then you do not need to know," Fah Lo Suee replied coldly. If this operative was not aware that Mia "Dark Angel" Lessing and Lancaster "Shockwave" Sneed had disappeared, then he did not deserve to possess that information.

"To our safehouse, then?"

Fah Lo Suee tipped down her sunglasses, revealing her hypnotic green eyes. "No, we will go to the heart of the city. I must take matters into my own hands. I will tell you where to stop. Then you will return to the safehouse with no knowledge of our whereabouts. Understood?"

"Yes, it is understood."

"Good. The chess match begins in earnest now."

NEXT ISSUE: Xan-Chi vs. Fah Lo Suee. Fu Manchu blood will flow