Triad Death Match Read Free Page A

man did something that Jack would only put together in full later that night: he started with a high kick to his opponent's face and somehow followed this by wrapping his calf around the back of the man's head to pull him forward. At the same time, the smaller man launched into the air and spun backward, his other foot swinging around to hit the bigger man on the other side of the face. When the smaller man landed, he faced his opponent again, now low with his face in front of the big man's gut. He fired a punch into the other's midsection that folded the top and bottom of the man's body, his head and feet, in toward one another. The bigger man's body shot back onto the floor and lay still.
    The crowd started up again, some chanting louder now as others stood and threw their papers into the air in disgust. Jane had stopped at the front table and turned to watch the ring. Now she stepped back as spectators started to pile out of the stands and forward toward the tables.  
    But Jack saw that part of the mass was plowing straight toward the ring.  
    On the stage behind the tables, the man in the dark suit waved his hands, trying to calm the crowd. The old men looked at one another with disgust. As the smaller fighter turned back to see men climbing up onto the platform, he appeared unafraid. Lowering himself into a deeper stance, he crossed his fists in front of him and prepared to fight.  
    Jane stepped farther back from the hordes, and Jack saw she was heading toward an exit at the far corner of the hall. Jack started to move; now that the crowd pushed forward from the bleachers, he could climb up to the back row and run across it toward Jane. But when he was half-way to her, a gunshot sounded and the crowd froze in place. People lowered their heads, and Jack got down too, even as he kept moving toward the exit and Jane.
    The fighter in the ring did a roll across the mat and came up running, heading toward the same exit as Jane. He jumped from the corner of the ring and ran across people in the crowd, stepping on shoulders and heads without losing his speed or balance.  
    He hit the exit just behind Jane, and they crashed through the door together. An alarm sounded as they did, the ringing blaring over the screams in the crowd. Jack made it to the door just behind them.
    He looked up and saw a narrow set of stairs. Jane was wrestling the smaller fighter up them, both of them going up, and Jane doing her best not to let the fighter go.  
    "Hey!" Jack started up after them, then stopped to pull the door closed behind him. The ringing stopped, but he'd already seen the bodies pressing toward them.
    "You're not getting away from me!" Jane clung to the back of the fighter, wrapping her legs around his. Her dress rode high on her legs, and she'd kicked off her shoes somewhere.
    Jack lunged forward and caught the fighter around the ankles with both arms, dragging him down. But the man started to beat around Jack's head with a fist, and Jack had to let him go to cover up. The man kicked his legs free from Jane's and bolted upright, climbing the stairs at a run with Jane on his back.
    "Yo, hold it," Jack called, right behind.
    They hit the top of the stairs and broke out onto the sidewalk through a steel fire door. No alarm. The street, usually a busy part of Chinatown, was empty on a Sunday night. Jack slammed the door behind him, looked for something to block it or jam it closed.
    Jane still clung to the fighter's back. He spun in her arms and raised his fists, chopping them toward her hips or just above. Anticipating the need to defend herself, Jane let go–just before he pulled back without hitting her.
    "Wait," Jack called. Miraculously, a taxi had appeared out of the fog and was heading toward them. He raised his hand and stepped into the street.
    The fighter turned to Jack. He appeared confused, standing in the middle of San Francisco's Chinatown barefoot and shirtless as the fog gathered around him.
    "Just come with us and