Free The Dragons of Heaven by Alyc Helms Page A

followed and peered over his shoulder.
    Hell was right. People flooded out into the streets, draped out of upper-story windows, and called at each other in a babel of dialects.
    The crash was easily explained. Some enterprising souls were getting their loot on. The window of the big souvenir emporium across the street had been shattered into Spiderglass, several men emptying the contents of the emporium into shopping carts with all the organization of a fire brigade. Not local boys, if the hair nets and wife-beaters were anything to go by. And besides, the store had to be under Triad protection. Nobody local would dare touch it.
    Still, what the hell did they think they were going to do with piles of colorful brocade silks? Give them to their mothers and sisters and aunts as Christmas gifts?
    I peered up at Johnny. “You want me to meet you down there or just wait up here? There’s a lot of them.”
    â€œMight as well head down. We need to find out what’s going on after I school those punks.”
    Johnny closed his eyes, and I took a step back. Both gestures were unnecessary to what came next, but they gave it the proper gravitas.
    Except… nothing happened.
    â€œJohnny?” Johnny should have been able to pop away from the studio and rise up from the pavement below for his planned pwnage. Unless something was wrong.
    â€œSomething is wrong.” Johnny’s whisper echoed my thoughts. “China is… not there.”
    I stumbled back another step. “What? How? Why?” Impossible!
    â€œMy connection. It’s just… glancing off. Like there’s something in the way.” Another crash rose from the street, followed by a woman shouting. We both looked. Doris Han had emerged on the stoop of the Dragon’s Pearl to harangue the boys across the way. The boys circled up and stalked toward her, which broke Johnny and I both out of our shock.
    â€œLater. We can figure this out later.” He hopped out the window and dropped down the fire escape to land between the looters and Doris.
    â€œYou know the stairs aren’t just there for decoration,” I called, and then followed him down the fire escape.
    There were too many men for them to be impressed by our acrobatics, but Doris was happy to see us. She backed up into the Pearl’s doorway as the looters shifted to face Johnny and me.
    â€œYou got a problem, Mr Miyagi?” A Virgin Mary tattoo wept on the muscled forearm of the speaker. I winced as he cracked his neck left and right. Awful sound.
    Johnny ignored the question. Sort of. Seemed he was still in a teaching mood. “Missy, what do I say about pre-fight banter?”
    I almost pitied the looters. If they hadn’t already gone wrong trying to loot the emporium across the street from Johnny’s studio, then their spokesman had sealed the deal when he opened his mouth. Call Johnny Bruce Lee. Call him Jackie Chan or even Dragonball-Z. But don’t ever call him Mr Miyagi.
    â€œThat it’s a good time to take off your watch so it doesn’t break during the fight?”
    â€œNo.” Wham went looter number one as Johnny blurred into motion, grabbing him by the Virgin Mary and flipping the attached body over. The man convulsed on the pavement, struggling for air. The other looters looked almost as shocked as their friend. They backed away from Johnny. Well, and who could blame them? Johnny was out of their league. “Don’t bother with it unless you’re good at it.”
    Johnny hauled the downed man up and shoved him toward his buddies. “Anyone else want to give old ‘Miyagi’ a try?”
    Nobody did, not even the ones with the tell-tale bulges of weapons under their wife-beaters. They scattered. I golf-clapped. “Have you ever been in a fight that lasted longer than ten seconds?” He hadn’t even broken a sweat.
    Johnny’s eyes flicked away. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Not a real