Tales of the Red Panda: The Android Assassins Read Free Page B

hard and fast in a right
jab, and then another. He ducked right and brought his left up in a strong hook
that jarred his foe a foot to the side. Feeling like the fight was his, he stepped
in close and put all of his body weight behind a series of lightning-fast
uppercuts that powered into his opponent just above waist level. Finally his
arms began to shake and he leaned forward, exhausted. After a moment he raised
his head and saw the grinning face of Mac Tully holding the heavy bag for him.
    “You're gonna get an eight-count if you don't get out of that clinch,” Mac said, letting go
of the bag.
    Parker puffed and rose, his forehead leaving a trail of
sweat on the punching bag as he did so. “Come on, Mac,” he tried to bluster,
“if this guy weren't chained to the rafters, there'd be no way he'd still be
standing.”
    Mac nodded and spat. “Guess that's right,” he said, his grin
spreading still wider. “Of course, he's filled with sawdust and doesn't have
any legs, so I don't know what you expect.”
    The two men laughed and stepped away from the bag to get
some water. Parker was tall and lean, with fair hair matted down with
perspiration and a jaw line that made him look almost as determined as he usually
was. He might not have been improving much as a boxer, but he had certainly put
some meat on his bones since he had begun working out at this gym. His partner
was shorter, but more barrel-chested. Mac Tully could take a lot of lumps
without falling down and it had stood him in good stead in more places than
just the boxing gym.
    For Parker and Tully were soldiers in a secret army of
justice. Each man was an active field agent in the service of the city's
protector, the Red Panda. Secret soldiers in his army, they filled their roles
as the Red Panda saw fit: spotters, undercover operatives or men of action;
each was ready to do all he could and more to aid their remarkable chief in his
quest. They knew one another and a few more of their fellows besides, but they
knew for certain that there were many more whom they had never met, in every
part of Toronto.
    The open, echoing space in which they stood was famous
throughout the city as a training gym for boxers, amateur and professional. It
was less well known as a hub from which many of the Red Panda's agents received
their orders, and yet it was that as well. The gym's owner, head trainer and
unofficial gargoyle was a thick-necked man of more than sixty, with a strong
Greek accent and a nose that had been broken more than a few times. Spiro
Pappas was his name, and he served as contact man for many of the most trusted
agents in the network. It was a second career the older man relished and
performed well, but he did not like to have the agents popping in and out of
his gymnasium at all hours without explanation. And so most of them, like Mac
and Andy, began taking lessons to stay on the old man's good side. Parker liked
the arrangement because it gave him an opportunity to associate with some of
the men who shared his double life, even if they rarely spoke of such things.
Tully just liked to be on hand if anything exciting happened, which it often
did.
    The two said nothing for a moment, watching the activity in
the ring in the centre of the room. Spiro was hurling
instructions excitably which made his natural accent
even thicker, to the point that few in the room could have told you which of
the two boxers he was instructing. But in this case it was easy to see which
occupant of the ring had Spiro's attention. He was a giant of a man, perhaps
six-foot-six or six-seven, and without an ounce of extra padding on him. His
stripped arms looked not unlike a pair of tree trunks with boxing gloves shoved
on the ends of them, and he held them tentatively in front of his face as he
circled around the ring.
    “Who's the new kid?” Parker asked, trying not to sound
impressed.
    “Spiro's new pet project,” Tully replied with a shake of his
head. “Poor guy.”
    Andy