Free Revenge by Mark A. Cooper Page B

they continued their relentless assault until Jason drove his fingers into the windpipe of one of his assailants and crushed the man’s trachea. As Wong staggered back and fell to the ground, gasping and snorting like a pig, Wing’s attention slipped for a second. Jason was high on adrenaline. His gift of quick reflexes, along with years of training, made a lethal combination, and he recoiled his right leg. The savage kick caught Wing off-guard—the blow breaking his jaw in two places. Doctors would later have to fit three titanium plates to get his jaw back together.
    Jason leapt over Wing and threw a roundhouse kick at the other twin, who was trying to get to his feet. Wong fell and landed on his back. Jason pounced on him with his knee in the man’s chest, followed by more than a dozen punches into Wong’s blood-covered face. He heard George gasping for air from his attacker, who still had his arms around his throat.
    Jason cursed and ran to George’s aid. He kicked out at the man’s face, breaking the man’s nose and rendering him unconscious. Jason stepped over George, who was rubbing his throat and trying to get to his feet. Jason attacked the unconscious man again. George watched as Jason dived at the man, who was already not moving. Jason turned him over and pounded the man’s face with an onslaught of fast, well-aimed punches. Blood splattered back into Jason’s face and mixed with his own blood and sweat. He panted heavily as he tried to gasp for oxygen to supply his lungs.
    â€œJason, stop. He isn’t going anywhere,” George said.
    The pounding continued.
    â€œJason, stop,” George shouted. “I think you bloody killed him—stop!” Jason, who seemed to lose control, becoming a brutal and savage predator, shocked George.
    Jason then stopped and sat on the floor next to his blood-covered prey. He panted heavily. Sweat and blood rained down his face. He wiped his face with his trembling hands. Several police officers ran into the room. George took control. They called an ambulance to collect the wounded. They were visibly stunned by the sight of Jason’s victims.
    â€œLook, sir,” a young officer who was holding up a clipboard with writing on it said. “It looks like they got Kinver to talk.”
    â€œWhat does it say?” George asked, still rubbing his throat. The SYUI officer walked over.
    â€œIt’s in Chinese, but it has two names written in English on it,” he said, showing his superior. George took it and walked over to Jason. He still sat on the floor, his elbows resting on his knees, his head down. George kneeled down beside him.
    â€œAre you all right, Jason?” George asked sympathetically.
    Jason looked up, his nose still running with blood and his hair and face covered in blood splashes. Jason looked at the back of his trembling hands. His knuckles were split open. They were also covered in his and his victim’s blood.
    â€œTired, sir.”
    â€œYou speak Chinese. What does this say? It looks like they got poor Jim Kinver to speak after all.”
    Jason glanced at it. “It says George Young and Jason Steed. The rest is in Chinese.”
    â€œI bloody know that, don’t I? What does the Chinese say?” George shouted impatiently. His sympathetic feelings did not last long.
    â€œI can speak Chinese. I have no idea how to read it.” Jason bowed his head back down. He was still trembling.
    Boudica’s men had started a fire to try to burn the evidence. The wooden pallets and boxes burned rapidly, and a hungry blaze raged through the building. Smoke started to fill the corridors.
    A police officer pulled Jason to his feet. They had to get out of the blazing inferno.

Chapter 11
    Mrs. Bristow gently woke Janice by giving her a kiss on the cheek.
    â€œMorning, sweetheart. It’s time to get up,” she said, picking up Janice’s clothes from yesterday off the carpet.