Revenge by Mark A. Cooper Read Free Book Online Page A

go,” George shouted. “Everyone, out. I need to talk to Jason.” The driver and man next to him in the front seat climbed out and shut the doors. George sat back and clenched his fingers. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
    â€œJason, I’m really sorry to put you in a spot like this, mate. At your age, you should be in school, thinking about girls and football. But we believe the Triads are up to something very big—so big it will go down in history. I can’t answer your question. We have to have a lead. I am depending on you to get it for us. If someone gets hurt or killed, well, there are bigger things at stake. I’ve got your back.” George took out a tissue and wiped his forehead. Jason noticed how worried he looked. He had lost his cocky smile and arrogance. He was a man who looked terrified of the consequences.
    â€¢ • •
    Early Saturday morning, Andrew stood outside the Bristows’, dressed in black. He had a pair of black leather gloves, and his jet-black hair shone in the morning sunlight.
    â€œYou look like Bruce Lee in Enter the Dragon ,” Jason joked when he approached. Andrew said nothing as he walked past Jason. He knew his father would be watching today’s events, and he was certain that Boudica would also hear about it. Today was business. He had to act responsibly and take care of his reputation. Jason followed close to his side.
    After a short bus ride, Jason followed Andrew off the bus and down a small street. It was a poor neighborhood. Many of the homes were in need of repair. Old cars that had clearly seen better days were parked alongside the pavement. Andrew stopped and bent down. He was pretending to tie his shoelaces.
    â€œThat’s it—there,” Andrew said, nodding toward the corner store. An elderly lady was coming out. She had a wicker basket on wheels, and they watched as she wrapped a scarf around her neck and slowly walked away. Andrew marched on toward the store.
    As they entered, a bell rang. It was a small shop that sold prepackaged food, milk, tobacco products, and newspapers. Jason took in his surroundings: A counter was at the far end, with a cash register to the right. On the back wall, large jars of various colored candy and toffee filled a shelf. There was a small door opening behind the counter, and music was playing.
    An old bald man came from behind the counter and smiled at Jason. He was stooped over and wore wire-framed glasses.
    â€œGood morning, young man. How can I help you?” he asked.
    It’s now or never. Sorry, but this will save your life .
    Jason spun on one leg. His foot shot out in a perfectly timed full roundhouse kick that slammed into the soft flesh of the man’s stomach. Jason changed feet and carried out a second attack, kicking him twice in the chest and pushing him back behind the counter. With all the wind knocked out of him, the shopkeeper collapsed behind the counter and gasped for air. Jason scanned frantically behind the counter, searching for the knife.
    Where is it?
    As the shopkeeper tried to get to his feet again, Jason kicked him. He lunged forward and thrust his knee onto the old man’s chest, pinning his victim down. He saw the knife out of the corner of his eye and scooped it up. It was cold and heavy to the touch. Jason’s fingers wrapped around the handle and brought the knife down hard onto the man’s chest. The man cried out in pain, and blood spat back into Jason face. His hand was covered with blood as he climbed off his prey. Andrew looked over the counter. Jason bent down to feel a pulse on the man’s neck. Nothing.
    â€œI can’t feel a pulse,” Jason announced in shock.
    â€œCome on. We’d better go,” Andrew ordered.
    â€œI can’t feel a pulse,” Jason said again, panic now setting in.
    â€œThat’s the whole idea, Jase. Good work. Now come on. Let’s go.”
    Jason followed Andrew out of the store.