[fic] Retribution Four
I don't believe my failure....6 months of no update. T_T Really, I'd be amazed if there're still people reading this (please let me know if you still are). But here it is anyway:
Title: Retribution Four
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Major angst
Characters: Fei Long, Yoh, Mikhail
Spoiler: Spoiler for NT arc
Disclaimer: All characters belong to YA sensei.
Beta: angel0399
Previous Chapters: For new readers, 'Retribution' is the third arc of a Mik x Fei trilogy that I've suffered my readers with since 2007. In order to make sense of it I'm afraid you will need to read 'Cruel Intentions' and its sequel 'Revelation' before you begin 'Retribution.' All the links are organized on the side bar of my lj kajornwan along with the trilogy's one-shot fillers. Russian, Chinese and Polish translations by readers are also found here. To make life even easier, a dear reader gryffin-draco has gone through the trouble of putting these in PDF files for download. Cruel Intentions and Revelation. Thank you so much sweetie.
The air was slightly chilly, yet humid, that morning⎯ it had rained all night until the break of dawn. The stone-floor courtyard of the Toh Residence were full of puddles, some as deep as an inch, others shallow enough to get by without wetting one's shoes. In the middle stood a tall, well-built Chinese man in a brown kung fu outfit. To his left, right, and front stood three men dressed in black, with a red crane stitched on their chests. The man in the middle raised his arms up slowly in a smooth, controlled motion, taking a step back into a stance. His right arm reached forward as his left protected the body at chest level. With his feet dug firmly into the wet ground, he gave a signal for the match to begin with a firm flick of his right wrist.
His opponents took turns attacking, one by one at first, and then together as he had proven to be too fast and skilled to beat individually. Every advance was anticipated, and every blow was guarded by a perfect balance of strength and flexibility.
From a corner, Phillip Toh stood quietly in a plain white silk cheongsam with his arms behind his back, watching his guest’s combat training. The three men were among his best bodyguards, all of whom had been efficiently trained by a famous sifu he’d handpicked for them. Unfortunately, they’d proven themselves useless that morning. Liu Yan Tsui may not look like much, but his Wing Tsun skills had turned out to be surprisingly exceptional.
But he wondered…
Tugging up his sleeves, Phillip Toh approached the scene as quietly as a snake sneaking up on its prey. The first strike was a quick blow from his right arm that missed Yan Tsui’s neck by an inch, thanks to the man’s acute sense of reflex. The second, a sweeping kick aimed at dislodging the opponent from his balance, was successfully dodged. By that time, the bodyguards had halted their attacks and stepped aside as to not interfere with their master's training.
The match continued without a word or a moment of pause. Yan Tsui’s strikes turned quicker and deadlier than before, but every time they drew close, Toh slipped away effortlessly without so much as his silk being touched. The guest of the house spun around, drawing his leg in a circle before kicking up a good amount of water into the air to distract his opponent and move in for the kill. A small drop flew into Toh's eye, but the man didn’t blink. Yan Tsui aimed a deadly blow to his opponent’s neck, but it was caught in midair. His arm was turned and twisted behind his back, just inches away from the point of breaking.
“Impressive,” Toh complimented with an approving nod as he released the other man’s wrist. After brushing away the water in his eye, he moved on to straightening his silk cheongsam. “Tell me, is your pathetic little brother as good as you are?”
Yan Tsui’s lips curled up into a sarcastic smile as he tried to steady his breath. “My brother’s technique is good, but he is as you’ve described, pathetic," he replied. Fei Long had never been able to defeat him in combat⎯ not once, even when the man was quicker and more precise. His mind is weak and confused, their sifu once said, and he couldn't agree more. When it comes to Toh, who could defeat him in less than five minutes with one hand behind his back, Fei Long would never stand a chance. Up until then, there were many things Yan Tsui found annoying about Phillip Toh, but his Wing Tsun had to be on top of the list.
“I thought he was the family’s best assassin,” Toh asked, narrowing his hawk-like eyes as he judged the authenticity of that statement. Pride and prejudice were clearly Yan Tsui’s weaknesses, and as such one could never take his words as the whole truth. But there was something useful about such flaws⎯ it made the man relatively easy to control and manipulate.
“He was the best assassin,” Liu Yan Tsui confirmed with a sneer. “Surely you don’t expect me to get my hands dirty over a subordinate’s job.” As a true heir, he had been raised to rule. Fei Long, on the other hand, had been raised as their weapon⎯ a position the boy seemed content with, until that man came along and destroyed everything.
“Pity,” Toh replied with a look that disagreed with his word. “I would have loved to put that to the test.” The satisfaction of beating up that pretty face would have been something he remembered for life.
“You’ll get that chance soon enough,” Yan Tsui reminded him, shaking his right arm. The persistent throbbing pain told him that it would take a few days to heal completely. Phillip Toh may have the same feminine features as his brother, but to believe he was without venom would be a fatal mistake. The man was intelligent, manipulative and cold to the core. But in his coldness, one could sense a fire burning somewhere within as a source of energy he fed on and lived off. In a way, Toh was almost the decisive version of Fei Long⎯ the kind of man one would think twice before making an enemy.
“Oh, I doubt that," Toh replied with a cunning smile.
“What do you mean?”
“Haven’t you heard?” The master of the house raised a brow. “Arbatov’s penthouse in Hong Kong was completely destroyed this morning⎯ while our little brother was in it, of course.”
Without thinking, Yan Tsui snatched a handful of the white, silk cheongsam and nearly lifted the slender man off his feet. “What did you do?” he scowled.
“Giving you back what belongs to you,” Toh replied calmly as he looked at the crease that began to form on his chest in disapproval. “And you will remove your hand before I decide it does not.”
“He was to be captured unharmed. That was the plan!" Yan Tsui reminded with a voice that grew louder by the minute. He'd never wanted Fei Long to die, and Toh had promised to bring in his brother alive. He wouldn't have agreed to cooperate with the plan otherwise.
Toh grabbed the other man's wrist and, without further warning, twisted it clear off his cheongsam, earning a low groan from the older Liu brother. “It would be wise for you to remember that your obsession with my bastard brother is not my priority, nor is your safety.”
As the tension grew, a servant girl interrupted them with urgent news. She bowed quickly and offered the white envelope in her hand to Toh. “Lao Ban, a message for you.”
Brushing away the crease on his cheongsam as though it had been tainted, Toh took the envelope and read its short and efficient content quietly before he handed it back to the girl. “Pathetic as he may be, our little brother has proven hard to kill," Toh said with the same expression he had a few seconds ago⎯ one of annoyance. Surprisingly, there wasn’t much disappointment on Toh’s face, only a trace of displeasure shown by the slight tightening of his lips. In a way, Toh had a hunch he would not succeed so easily, and somehow he felt relieved that the task remained a challenge. It seemed whatever mercy he had at the time he decided to give his bastard brother a quick and painless death didn’t quite agree with fate after all. However, he couldn't really say the attack was a total loss. “It looks like I’ve killed an Arbatov instead. How unfortunate."
Yan Tsui could hear himself sigh in relief. Fei Long was still alive. He would still get a chance to have that boy back where he belongs⎯ by his side, obeying his every command the way it used to be. Still, he couldn’t help having a bad feeling in his stomach over the latter news. “Your madness has created an enemy bigger than you can handle," Yan told him in concern. To have both Baishe and the Russian mafia on his back seemed like a perfect plan for suicide. The death of an Arbatov will send the Russians hunting to the ends of the earth for vengeance.
“Ah, but you forgot to ask the most important question of all,” Toh said with a grin, his tone resembled the hissing of a venomous snake. “What was he doing there with the wrong Arbatov?”
Yan Tsui paused for a few seconds as he realized the back up plan his host seemed to have had all along. Toh knew exactly what to do in the case that he failed even before ordering the attack. Fei Long's relationship with Mikhail Arbatov had never been much of a secret. The answer to that question does change everything. “You knew they would be there together.”
“I knew indeed,” Toh replied, narrowing his eyes as a victorious grin appeared on his lips. When he knew Mikhail had put his penthouse up for sale, he’d made sure it would fall into his hands even when it required a great effort in keeping himself anonymous. The penthouse was meant to be used in favor of future negotiations with the Arbatovs. It just so happened that the place turned out to be of more importance to Fei Long. As soon as the news of the Baishe leader returning to the apartment to spend a night had reached him, he’d made sure he could see and hear everything that happen in that place before putting it back on the market as bait. Fortunately, it was Alexei Arbatov who took the offer. The attack was possible because he knew exactly where they were and what happened that night. "Alexei Arbatov died having spent a night with Fei Long in his brother’s old penthouse. If that isn’t enough to sever the ties between the two organizations permanently, I’m sure my evidence will be quite persuasive."
“It is Vladimir Arbatov who runs the family, not his son,” Yan Tsui reminded. From what his late father told him, that old man was never to be trusted, and the Arbatovs rarely do the conventional.
“Vladimir has a serious heart condition,” Toh explained, rubbing the tip of his index finger along his lips as he revealed his plans further. “The news of his son’s death will most likely give him a stroke, and should he survive, he would be crippled on a hospital bed long enough for his enemies at home to take an advantage of the situation. Our brother’s handsome knight, whether or not he severs the ties with Baishe, would be forced to return to Russia and stay until things quiet down, giving us the opportunity to do as we see fit with Baishe.”
“Fei Long will be easy to break,” Yan Tsui said thoughtfully. His little brother had never been able to handle emotional distress well. Phillip Toh certainly did his homework, knowing exactly how to rip Fei Long of his wings and where to strike. Soon enough he would have it all back⎯ Baishe, his family's fortune, the power above all of Hong Kong, and, yes, Fei Long.
***
The room felt stuffy and smelled of blood and alcohol⎯ the same smell that made his stomach turn just weeks ago when he was being interrogated in that small room five floors down from where he was now. Yoh closed his eyes, held his breath and looked up from the tile he’d fixed his gaze upon for the last ten minutes just to avoid looking at the scene in front of him.
An hour ago he'd helped his former boss back to Baishe to avoid the media. Unfortunately, the police had arrived at the scene sooner than he'd anticipated and has put them down as witnesses to the crime. Knowing who Fei Long was, the cops had allowed them to return to Baishe to tend to his injury on the condition that he would be questioned as soon as they’d finished with the crime scene. As they left, Fei Long didn’t say a word or made a sound. He didn't ask why or how Yoh was there. The only thing he said was, “No,” when the men at Baishe pointed their guns at the traitor and tried to shoot him on the spot. What one word did for some, the hand that refused to let go of the traitor’s sleeve did for others. He didn’t know if Fei Long had done what he did consciously, or whether the man knew who he’d dragged with him into the room where his wounds were to be tended. None of it mattered to Yoh. He knew he had to stay, especially when the real nightmare begins.
Fei Long was sitting on a couch on the opposite side of the room, still in the black silk robe, facing him but not looking at him. His eyes were lost somewhere in the palms of his hands covered in blood, Alexei’s blood, that had began to clot. Fei Long had held on to the corpse, shaking it over and over again, convinced that his soul would return. But there were no words from Alexei, and Fei Long kept on trying as though there were more to death than losing life. In a way, it was true. Death has consequences that change everything and everyone, and a piece of that evidence was sitting in front of him.
"No," Fei Long said as the doctor tried to give him a shot of anesthetic in order to remove the bullet from his arm.
"Laoban, it will hurt," the old man objected. His eyes were full of concern, his expression demonstrated clearly the meaning of his last word.
"No," Fei Long repeated. It was the only word he'd spoken since the incident.
Not knowing what to do, the doctor turned to Yoh for a decision. A traitor he still was, but if there was one person in the compound who would know Fei Long’s will beyond what he says, it was Yoh. It was the truth that made the men loath him more than the others of his kind. Anyone can betray Liu Fei Long of Baishe, just not him.
Yoh looked at Fei Long then turned to the doctor and nodded. There were times back in jail when he saw Fei Long take his beatings as though they were some kind of drug. Sometimes he did it to feel awake, other times he welcomed it as punishment. He remembered how Fei Long had once spoken of being beaten in his childhood as a mean of discipline. It seemed ever since Liu senior had passed away, Fei Long had taken the role of his father upon himself to punish each and every wrong he'd done. Yoh thought that perhaps it was to remember his father, or perhaps it was the only way he knew how to live.
A short cry escaped Fei Long's tightly gritted teeth as the doctor tried to find the bullet that buried itself deep in his flesh. Fei Long's hand was on his thigh, his fingers dug deep into his skin to take away some of the pain by inflicting it on himself elsewhere. It did hurt, and only Yoh knew the rejection of anesthetic wasn't an attempt to act tough⎯ Fei Long needed to feel pain. Somewhere on his face that twisted in agony one could see satisfaction. Yoh had been there long enough to know the Baishe leader was the kind of man who could not move on without being properly punished for his mistakes. He also knew that this time, the punishment would not be brief.
Another loud groan caused the doctor to bite his lower lip as he tried to take hold of the bullet. Knowing that the only way to stop this self-torture was to end the procedure as soon as possible, the old man kept on working. As for Yoh, a part of him wished it would prolong a little more than necessary. Being who he was, Fei Long would never allow himself to express his feelings openly, no matter how painful. He was one of those people who had to find an excuse to express pain. Somehow, hearing him cry and groan felt strangely deliberating. Fei Long seemed to know this as well as evidently he didn't make an effort to keep it in.
Hell. The word suddenly appeared in Yoh's mind. When they were in prison someone had asked Fei Long why he had chosen to stay in this hellhole when, with all his power and money, he could have gotten out anytime he wished. “This isn’t hell,” Fei Long told the man with a smile. “I have been in hell since the day I was born.” There wasn't a day in his life that he’d forgotten the expression on Fei Long's face when he answered that question. Hell was where the Baishe leader dwelled. Hell was the expression written on his face the day Alexei Arbatov died.
In the end, the doctor had removed a bullet from his arm and pulled out thirteen pieces of broken glass from the soles of his feet. The wounds were not deep, just numerous, and he would be able to walk without pain in a few days. For now, the men at Baishe had allowed Yoh to stay on the premises to tend to the boss' needs. Fei Long had left them no choice but to turn a blind eye to his presence by refusing to let anyone else tend to his injuries, not even Tao. Yoh thought perhaps because he was there also that Fei Long had seen him as an accomplice to whatever crime he thought he'd committed. Or perhaps he just needed someone who knew what he wanted without being told, so he doesn't have to speak. Whatever it was, Yoh knew he had to stay. The men seemed to understand it too, even though they weren't so secretive about wanting to shoot him between the eyes when all this was over.
The police had been kept away as an order from a certain powerful figure on Fei Long's list of allies. The head of Baishe was not to be disturbed until his injuries became manageable. The doctor had slipped a sleeping pill in the boss' tea as per Yoh's request. Whether or not he was disturbed, he knew Fei Long would not allow himself the luxury of sleep. To Yoh's relief, the pill seemed to work. Fei Long had slept through the night and woke up just before noon. He still didn't say a word, and after a couple of hours of being lost in his own thoughts he turned to look at Yoh for the first time.
"I want to see Alexei," Fei Long told him in a tone that left no room for discussion.
Yoh simply nodded and left to arrange for it. There was no use arguing with Fei Long when he had that expression on his face. Whether or not he complied, the head of Baishe would find a way to drag himself to where Alexei's corpse was, even with thirteen fresh wounds on his feet.
It turns out Alexei's body had been held in the hospital's morgue, waiting to be identified by the next of kin, who was not in the country. With some persuasion from Baishe's personnel, they had promised to allow Fei Long an off-the-record visit. Once more the Baishe leader was in a wheelchair, a sight that made Tao’s swollen eyes tear up again as he was told to wait at headquarters.
The helicopter reached the hospital just after twelve, but they weren’t alone⎯ there were two choppers already on the helipad. Fortunately, Fei Long didn't seem to notice the writings on the sides that bothered Yoh enough to cause his expression to change. The wise thing to do was to convince Fei Long to turn around and do this some other time, but he knew it would never happen, even if he’d begged on his knees.
The elevator opened and Yoh rolled out the wheelchair into the corridor with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. There were whispers, numerous enough to be heard as they began to turn the corner and ran into a small crowd gathering in the hallway. He didn’t mistake the crest on the choppers’ doors⎯ the Russians had arrived.
There was a woman among them, beautiful and slender, dressed in black from head to toe. She turned around and paused for a moment as she saw them, her eyes flashed a murderous rage enough to make Yoh reach inside his jacket for his gun. The look on her face told him she was ready to kill them with her bare hands, and something told him that she could. He didn't recognize her at first, but as she drew near he recalled seeing her in a photograph a few times. It was Mikhail Arbatov's wife⎯ the child Vladimir Arbatov had taken into the family some twenty years ago.
Feodora strode down the hallway with long, heavy steps, her heels clicked mercilessly on the hard, cold floor. She stopped in front of them, took off her lambskin leather gloves and, without a word spoken, slapped the head of Baishe across his cheek that was aimed at inflicting disgrace rather than pain. There wasn't a man Yoh knew who would dare treat Liu Fei Long that way, much less a woman. But then Feodora was someone who was born into an equally powerful family and raised among the Arbatov children as one of their own. The fact that her enemy was in a wheelchair and badly injured made no difference. The Russians show no mercy ⎯ not even if their enemy was in a coma and lying on his deathbed.
"Leave," she demanded. Her tone was as hostile as her action, her teeth gritted so hard her jaws ached. How dare he show himself in this place after what happened! She would have this man out of her life and away from her family, even if she had to gun him down herself. "You are not welcome here!"
"I must see Alexei," Fei Long said without a change in expression. Feodora’s feelings would not make him change his mind, nor the way she looked at him, like he was some kind of parasite. What made a difference, however, was the fact that she was there at all. The meaning of her presence had made his heart race and his breathing quicken. Fei Long's eyes couldn't help but wandered past Feodora's shoulder to the group of men in the corridor, searching for a figure that didn't seem to be among them. He had hoped...
"How dare you?" Feodora questioned, her body shook in fury as tears pooled in her eyes. "When will you be satisfied? Our brother is dead because of you, and God knows what will happen to Vladimir when he hears of this news!" Her voice grew louder as she continued to pour out her hatred. She no longer had it in her to hold back her feelings. Alexei was her brother as well⎯ everything in her life was falling apart because of this man. "You destroy everything you touch! My husband is a wreck and is back on drugs because of you. I will not have you here causing more damage than you've already done, you..."
"Feodora." A low, baritone voice echoed from the hallway leading to the elevator. It was a voice Fei Long knew by heart, but its tone was harsh enough to drain the colors completely from Feodora's cheeks. "Enough." The latter, said in a razor sharp tone and as loud as thunder, was spoken as the last warning. It did work, for Feodora quickly adjusted herself and wiped the tears from her face as though she was in the presence of someone she respected and feared. The man she saw behind Liu Fei Long and his bodyguard was not her friend, her brother, or her husband, but a man who stood at the top of the Russian underworld⎯ one who must be obeyed.
The same voice that silenced Feodora made Fei Long stiffen, and for a moment he could not feel his limbs. Mikhail was standing right behind him, no more than a few steps away, and yet he didn't have the courage to turn around and look. But what difference would it make? Mikhail was there to collect his brother's body, and Fei Long was the last person in the world he wanted to see. It would have taken a stupid man to miss the hostility that hung heavily in the air.
The sound of Mikhail's slow, heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway as he proceeded towards the morgue. Fei Long could smell the familiar scent of aftershave he had come to love as he moved closer and walked right by him without so much as a glance in his direction. He traced his eyes along the outline of those strong shoulders he once admired and realized at once that Feodora's words were true. Mikhail had lost a generous amount of weight, and even those golden curls seemed to have gone dull and unruly. Fei Long wondered if it was just the drugs that affected him so much, or was it Alexei's death that changed him so dramatically. Whatever the reason, the picture he saw in front of him was a sight he would not forget easily.
Fei Long watched quietly as Mikhail disappeared into the waiting room with his subordinates, followed closely by Feodora. A few minutes later some of the bodyguards were dismissed and ordered to wait elsewhere, while one approached him and brought a message that he could see Alexei after they'd finished identifying the body, and that the boss would like to have a word with him when it was over⎯ a proposition that Fei Long accepted.
They were taken to a waiting room next to the room that housed Alexei's body. Three bodyguards still remained in that room, waiting for their boss and his wife to finish the procedure. For two hours Mikhail had stayed there, long after the hospital staff and the police had left. Through the glass panel and the gap between the curtains, Fei Long could see Feodora standing near the door, crying quietly in the corner. In the middle of the room, Mikhail sat on a stool next to the bed and stared at Alexei's body, still as a statue. There was no rage, no tears, not even grief on his face. Mikhail stared as if he didn't feel anything, or, perhaps he couldn't feel anything. Somehow, even with Feodora there with him, the man in that room seemed so far away and alone. Mikhail had retreated into a place where no one was allowed to enter. Feodora seemed to understand this and kept a distance. It seemed that the only way out was to have Alexei come back to life. But life is never that kind, and miracles never happen to people like them.
The sound of the doorknob turning stung like a death sentence. All of a sudden the air seemed stuffy. Mikhail stepped out into the waiting room with Feodora, prompting the bodyguards to rise to their feet and assume position. The Russian lit himself a smoke, a common white one that lacked the smooth, well-bodied fragrance of his usual black and gold cigarette. Pausing a moment to fill his lungs with the toxic smoke, he turned to the Baishe leader with an expression of a man facing a complete stranger.
"As of now my father doesn’t know about this," Mikhail said in a firm and rigid tone, pausing in between to take another puff on his cigarette. "We've done everything in our power to keep it off the news until I return with Alexei's body and can tell him in person. I would appreciate it if you cooperate, as a gesture of compassion."
A gesture of compassion, Fei Long thought. He would have answered it with a sneer if the damn words didn't hurt so much. At that point all he could do was nod, and it seemed that was exactly what Mikhail wanted him to do⎯ listen and nod.
"I've also been informed that my brother has given you the deed to my penthouse," he continued, his blue eyes were blank and had turned almost grey. "I would like it returned to me. My assistant will contact you and will see to it that you are appropriately compensated."
"The deed will be on your desk by tomorrow morning," Fei Long replied readily, as a gesture of compassion. He had hoped for many things in the event that they did see each other again⎯ a word of hello, or maybe a smile that didn't have to be directed at him. But now that they were standing just a few steps away from each other, Mikhail had seen to it that the promise of never seeing or hearing from him again was fulfilled. In front of him stood a man whose eyes showed only a reflection of Liu Fei Long of Baishe, and not a glimpse of the man he once held in his arms with unfathomable affection. In that moment, Fei Long knew everything they once had no matter how deep and profound had been lost. Still, he owed this man more than he could ever hope to repay. "If there's anything else we can do..."
"This is our war," Mikhail cut in before Fei Long could finish the sentence. "I will have no interference from Baishe and ask that you stay out of this as much as you can. Do we understand each other, Liu sìn sàang*?"
Fei Long closed his eyes and tried to swallow what had to be the final and deliberate strike at whatever hope he had left for them. He couldn't say he didn't see it coming, but he'd never thought Mikhail would go so far as to deny him the privilege of being called by his name. Liu sìn sàang. No words had ever hurt so much or cut so deep. Mikhail knew how to strike just as well as how to win him over. One day the memories of the latter would also fade, and all that remained would be scars.
"We understand each other perfectly," Fei Long replied firmly with a faint smile.
Once upon a time they knew each other, and that is where it ends.
----------------
*sìn sàang - Mister
A/N: The good news is, chapter five is also finished and being beta-ed. So if you want it, feel free to comment and beg her here since it's no longer in my hands. ( I'm just j/k. She's battled very hard with my poor English. I feel like paying her for the job and should have given her a break ^^!) Anyway, just wanted to let you guys know it won't be 6 months until the next update, and thank you for all your support and for being here after all this time.
Title: Retribution Four
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Major angst
Characters: Fei Long, Yoh, Mikhail
Spoiler: Spoiler for NT arc
Disclaimer: All characters belong to YA sensei.
Beta: angel0399
Previous Chapters: For new readers, 'Retribution' is the third arc of a Mik x Fei trilogy that I've suffered my readers with since 2007. In order to make sense of it I'm afraid you will need to read 'Cruel Intentions' and its sequel 'Revelation' before you begin 'Retribution.' All the links are organized on the side bar of my lj kajornwan along with the trilogy's one-shot fillers. Russian, Chinese and Polish translations by readers are also found here. To make life even easier, a dear reader gryffin-draco has gone through the trouble of putting these in PDF files for download. Cruel Intentions and Revelation. Thank you so much sweetie.
The air was slightly chilly, yet humid, that morning⎯ it had rained all night until the break of dawn. The stone-floor courtyard of the Toh Residence were full of puddles, some as deep as an inch, others shallow enough to get by without wetting one's shoes. In the middle stood a tall, well-built Chinese man in a brown kung fu outfit. To his left, right, and front stood three men dressed in black, with a red crane stitched on their chests. The man in the middle raised his arms up slowly in a smooth, controlled motion, taking a step back into a stance. His right arm reached forward as his left protected the body at chest level. With his feet dug firmly into the wet ground, he gave a signal for the match to begin with a firm flick of his right wrist.
His opponents took turns attacking, one by one at first, and then together as he had proven to be too fast and skilled to beat individually. Every advance was anticipated, and every blow was guarded by a perfect balance of strength and flexibility.
From a corner, Phillip Toh stood quietly in a plain white silk cheongsam with his arms behind his back, watching his guest’s combat training. The three men were among his best bodyguards, all of whom had been efficiently trained by a famous sifu he’d handpicked for them. Unfortunately, they’d proven themselves useless that morning. Liu Yan Tsui may not look like much, but his Wing Tsun skills had turned out to be surprisingly exceptional.
But he wondered…
Tugging up his sleeves, Phillip Toh approached the scene as quietly as a snake sneaking up on its prey. The first strike was a quick blow from his right arm that missed Yan Tsui’s neck by an inch, thanks to the man’s acute sense of reflex. The second, a sweeping kick aimed at dislodging the opponent from his balance, was successfully dodged. By that time, the bodyguards had halted their attacks and stepped aside as to not interfere with their master's training.
The match continued without a word or a moment of pause. Yan Tsui’s strikes turned quicker and deadlier than before, but every time they drew close, Toh slipped away effortlessly without so much as his silk being touched. The guest of the house spun around, drawing his leg in a circle before kicking up a good amount of water into the air to distract his opponent and move in for the kill. A small drop flew into Toh's eye, but the man didn’t blink. Yan Tsui aimed a deadly blow to his opponent’s neck, but it was caught in midair. His arm was turned and twisted behind his back, just inches away from the point of breaking.
“Impressive,” Toh complimented with an approving nod as he released the other man’s wrist. After brushing away the water in his eye, he moved on to straightening his silk cheongsam. “Tell me, is your pathetic little brother as good as you are?”
Yan Tsui’s lips curled up into a sarcastic smile as he tried to steady his breath. “My brother’s technique is good, but he is as you’ve described, pathetic," he replied. Fei Long had never been able to defeat him in combat⎯ not once, even when the man was quicker and more precise. His mind is weak and confused, their sifu once said, and he couldn't agree more. When it comes to Toh, who could defeat him in less than five minutes with one hand behind his back, Fei Long would never stand a chance. Up until then, there were many things Yan Tsui found annoying about Phillip Toh, but his Wing Tsun had to be on top of the list.
“I thought he was the family’s best assassin,” Toh asked, narrowing his hawk-like eyes as he judged the authenticity of that statement. Pride and prejudice were clearly Yan Tsui’s weaknesses, and as such one could never take his words as the whole truth. But there was something useful about such flaws⎯ it made the man relatively easy to control and manipulate.
“He was the best assassin,” Liu Yan Tsui confirmed with a sneer. “Surely you don’t expect me to get my hands dirty over a subordinate’s job.” As a true heir, he had been raised to rule. Fei Long, on the other hand, had been raised as their weapon⎯ a position the boy seemed content with, until that man came along and destroyed everything.
“Pity,” Toh replied with a look that disagreed with his word. “I would have loved to put that to the test.” The satisfaction of beating up that pretty face would have been something he remembered for life.
“You’ll get that chance soon enough,” Yan Tsui reminded him, shaking his right arm. The persistent throbbing pain told him that it would take a few days to heal completely. Phillip Toh may have the same feminine features as his brother, but to believe he was without venom would be a fatal mistake. The man was intelligent, manipulative and cold to the core. But in his coldness, one could sense a fire burning somewhere within as a source of energy he fed on and lived off. In a way, Toh was almost the decisive version of Fei Long⎯ the kind of man one would think twice before making an enemy.
“Oh, I doubt that," Toh replied with a cunning smile.
“What do you mean?”
“Haven’t you heard?” The master of the house raised a brow. “Arbatov’s penthouse in Hong Kong was completely destroyed this morning⎯ while our little brother was in it, of course.”
Without thinking, Yan Tsui snatched a handful of the white, silk cheongsam and nearly lifted the slender man off his feet. “What did you do?” he scowled.
“Giving you back what belongs to you,” Toh replied calmly as he looked at the crease that began to form on his chest in disapproval. “And you will remove your hand before I decide it does not.”
“He was to be captured unharmed. That was the plan!" Yan Tsui reminded with a voice that grew louder by the minute. He'd never wanted Fei Long to die, and Toh had promised to bring in his brother alive. He wouldn't have agreed to cooperate with the plan otherwise.
Toh grabbed the other man's wrist and, without further warning, twisted it clear off his cheongsam, earning a low groan from the older Liu brother. “It would be wise for you to remember that your obsession with my bastard brother is not my priority, nor is your safety.”
As the tension grew, a servant girl interrupted them with urgent news. She bowed quickly and offered the white envelope in her hand to Toh. “Lao Ban, a message for you.”
Brushing away the crease on his cheongsam as though it had been tainted, Toh took the envelope and read its short and efficient content quietly before he handed it back to the girl. “Pathetic as he may be, our little brother has proven hard to kill," Toh said with the same expression he had a few seconds ago⎯ one of annoyance. Surprisingly, there wasn’t much disappointment on Toh’s face, only a trace of displeasure shown by the slight tightening of his lips. In a way, Toh had a hunch he would not succeed so easily, and somehow he felt relieved that the task remained a challenge. It seemed whatever mercy he had at the time he decided to give his bastard brother a quick and painless death didn’t quite agree with fate after all. However, he couldn't really say the attack was a total loss. “It looks like I’ve killed an Arbatov instead. How unfortunate."
Yan Tsui could hear himself sigh in relief. Fei Long was still alive. He would still get a chance to have that boy back where he belongs⎯ by his side, obeying his every command the way it used to be. Still, he couldn’t help having a bad feeling in his stomach over the latter news. “Your madness has created an enemy bigger than you can handle," Yan told him in concern. To have both Baishe and the Russian mafia on his back seemed like a perfect plan for suicide. The death of an Arbatov will send the Russians hunting to the ends of the earth for vengeance.
“Ah, but you forgot to ask the most important question of all,” Toh said with a grin, his tone resembled the hissing of a venomous snake. “What was he doing there with the wrong Arbatov?”
Yan Tsui paused for a few seconds as he realized the back up plan his host seemed to have had all along. Toh knew exactly what to do in the case that he failed even before ordering the attack. Fei Long's relationship with Mikhail Arbatov had never been much of a secret. The answer to that question does change everything. “You knew they would be there together.”
“I knew indeed,” Toh replied, narrowing his eyes as a victorious grin appeared on his lips. When he knew Mikhail had put his penthouse up for sale, he’d made sure it would fall into his hands even when it required a great effort in keeping himself anonymous. The penthouse was meant to be used in favor of future negotiations with the Arbatovs. It just so happened that the place turned out to be of more importance to Fei Long. As soon as the news of the Baishe leader returning to the apartment to spend a night had reached him, he’d made sure he could see and hear everything that happen in that place before putting it back on the market as bait. Fortunately, it was Alexei Arbatov who took the offer. The attack was possible because he knew exactly where they were and what happened that night. "Alexei Arbatov died having spent a night with Fei Long in his brother’s old penthouse. If that isn’t enough to sever the ties between the two organizations permanently, I’m sure my evidence will be quite persuasive."
“It is Vladimir Arbatov who runs the family, not his son,” Yan Tsui reminded. From what his late father told him, that old man was never to be trusted, and the Arbatovs rarely do the conventional.
“Vladimir has a serious heart condition,” Toh explained, rubbing the tip of his index finger along his lips as he revealed his plans further. “The news of his son’s death will most likely give him a stroke, and should he survive, he would be crippled on a hospital bed long enough for his enemies at home to take an advantage of the situation. Our brother’s handsome knight, whether or not he severs the ties with Baishe, would be forced to return to Russia and stay until things quiet down, giving us the opportunity to do as we see fit with Baishe.”
“Fei Long will be easy to break,” Yan Tsui said thoughtfully. His little brother had never been able to handle emotional distress well. Phillip Toh certainly did his homework, knowing exactly how to rip Fei Long of his wings and where to strike. Soon enough he would have it all back⎯ Baishe, his family's fortune, the power above all of Hong Kong, and, yes, Fei Long.
***
The room felt stuffy and smelled of blood and alcohol⎯ the same smell that made his stomach turn just weeks ago when he was being interrogated in that small room five floors down from where he was now. Yoh closed his eyes, held his breath and looked up from the tile he’d fixed his gaze upon for the last ten minutes just to avoid looking at the scene in front of him.
An hour ago he'd helped his former boss back to Baishe to avoid the media. Unfortunately, the police had arrived at the scene sooner than he'd anticipated and has put them down as witnesses to the crime. Knowing who Fei Long was, the cops had allowed them to return to Baishe to tend to his injury on the condition that he would be questioned as soon as they’d finished with the crime scene. As they left, Fei Long didn’t say a word or made a sound. He didn't ask why or how Yoh was there. The only thing he said was, “No,” when the men at Baishe pointed their guns at the traitor and tried to shoot him on the spot. What one word did for some, the hand that refused to let go of the traitor’s sleeve did for others. He didn’t know if Fei Long had done what he did consciously, or whether the man knew who he’d dragged with him into the room where his wounds were to be tended. None of it mattered to Yoh. He knew he had to stay, especially when the real nightmare begins.
Fei Long was sitting on a couch on the opposite side of the room, still in the black silk robe, facing him but not looking at him. His eyes were lost somewhere in the palms of his hands covered in blood, Alexei’s blood, that had began to clot. Fei Long had held on to the corpse, shaking it over and over again, convinced that his soul would return. But there were no words from Alexei, and Fei Long kept on trying as though there were more to death than losing life. In a way, it was true. Death has consequences that change everything and everyone, and a piece of that evidence was sitting in front of him.
"No," Fei Long said as the doctor tried to give him a shot of anesthetic in order to remove the bullet from his arm.
"Laoban, it will hurt," the old man objected. His eyes were full of concern, his expression demonstrated clearly the meaning of his last word.
"No," Fei Long repeated. It was the only word he'd spoken since the incident.
Not knowing what to do, the doctor turned to Yoh for a decision. A traitor he still was, but if there was one person in the compound who would know Fei Long’s will beyond what he says, it was Yoh. It was the truth that made the men loath him more than the others of his kind. Anyone can betray Liu Fei Long of Baishe, just not him.
Yoh looked at Fei Long then turned to the doctor and nodded. There were times back in jail when he saw Fei Long take his beatings as though they were some kind of drug. Sometimes he did it to feel awake, other times he welcomed it as punishment. He remembered how Fei Long had once spoken of being beaten in his childhood as a mean of discipline. It seemed ever since Liu senior had passed away, Fei Long had taken the role of his father upon himself to punish each and every wrong he'd done. Yoh thought that perhaps it was to remember his father, or perhaps it was the only way he knew how to live.
A short cry escaped Fei Long's tightly gritted teeth as the doctor tried to find the bullet that buried itself deep in his flesh. Fei Long's hand was on his thigh, his fingers dug deep into his skin to take away some of the pain by inflicting it on himself elsewhere. It did hurt, and only Yoh knew the rejection of anesthetic wasn't an attempt to act tough⎯ Fei Long needed to feel pain. Somewhere on his face that twisted in agony one could see satisfaction. Yoh had been there long enough to know the Baishe leader was the kind of man who could not move on without being properly punished for his mistakes. He also knew that this time, the punishment would not be brief.
Another loud groan caused the doctor to bite his lower lip as he tried to take hold of the bullet. Knowing that the only way to stop this self-torture was to end the procedure as soon as possible, the old man kept on working. As for Yoh, a part of him wished it would prolong a little more than necessary. Being who he was, Fei Long would never allow himself to express his feelings openly, no matter how painful. He was one of those people who had to find an excuse to express pain. Somehow, hearing him cry and groan felt strangely deliberating. Fei Long seemed to know this as well as evidently he didn't make an effort to keep it in.
Hell. The word suddenly appeared in Yoh's mind. When they were in prison someone had asked Fei Long why he had chosen to stay in this hellhole when, with all his power and money, he could have gotten out anytime he wished. “This isn’t hell,” Fei Long told the man with a smile. “I have been in hell since the day I was born.” There wasn't a day in his life that he’d forgotten the expression on Fei Long's face when he answered that question. Hell was where the Baishe leader dwelled. Hell was the expression written on his face the day Alexei Arbatov died.
In the end, the doctor had removed a bullet from his arm and pulled out thirteen pieces of broken glass from the soles of his feet. The wounds were not deep, just numerous, and he would be able to walk without pain in a few days. For now, the men at Baishe had allowed Yoh to stay on the premises to tend to the boss' needs. Fei Long had left them no choice but to turn a blind eye to his presence by refusing to let anyone else tend to his injuries, not even Tao. Yoh thought perhaps because he was there also that Fei Long had seen him as an accomplice to whatever crime he thought he'd committed. Or perhaps he just needed someone who knew what he wanted without being told, so he doesn't have to speak. Whatever it was, Yoh knew he had to stay. The men seemed to understand it too, even though they weren't so secretive about wanting to shoot him between the eyes when all this was over.
The police had been kept away as an order from a certain powerful figure on Fei Long's list of allies. The head of Baishe was not to be disturbed until his injuries became manageable. The doctor had slipped a sleeping pill in the boss' tea as per Yoh's request. Whether or not he was disturbed, he knew Fei Long would not allow himself the luxury of sleep. To Yoh's relief, the pill seemed to work. Fei Long had slept through the night and woke up just before noon. He still didn't say a word, and after a couple of hours of being lost in his own thoughts he turned to look at Yoh for the first time.
"I want to see Alexei," Fei Long told him in a tone that left no room for discussion.
Yoh simply nodded and left to arrange for it. There was no use arguing with Fei Long when he had that expression on his face. Whether or not he complied, the head of Baishe would find a way to drag himself to where Alexei's corpse was, even with thirteen fresh wounds on his feet.
It turns out Alexei's body had been held in the hospital's morgue, waiting to be identified by the next of kin, who was not in the country. With some persuasion from Baishe's personnel, they had promised to allow Fei Long an off-the-record visit. Once more the Baishe leader was in a wheelchair, a sight that made Tao’s swollen eyes tear up again as he was told to wait at headquarters.
The helicopter reached the hospital just after twelve, but they weren’t alone⎯ there were two choppers already on the helipad. Fortunately, Fei Long didn't seem to notice the writings on the sides that bothered Yoh enough to cause his expression to change. The wise thing to do was to convince Fei Long to turn around and do this some other time, but he knew it would never happen, even if he’d begged on his knees.
The elevator opened and Yoh rolled out the wheelchair into the corridor with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. There were whispers, numerous enough to be heard as they began to turn the corner and ran into a small crowd gathering in the hallway. He didn’t mistake the crest on the choppers’ doors⎯ the Russians had arrived.
There was a woman among them, beautiful and slender, dressed in black from head to toe. She turned around and paused for a moment as she saw them, her eyes flashed a murderous rage enough to make Yoh reach inside his jacket for his gun. The look on her face told him she was ready to kill them with her bare hands, and something told him that she could. He didn't recognize her at first, but as she drew near he recalled seeing her in a photograph a few times. It was Mikhail Arbatov's wife⎯ the child Vladimir Arbatov had taken into the family some twenty years ago.
Feodora strode down the hallway with long, heavy steps, her heels clicked mercilessly on the hard, cold floor. She stopped in front of them, took off her lambskin leather gloves and, without a word spoken, slapped the head of Baishe across his cheek that was aimed at inflicting disgrace rather than pain. There wasn't a man Yoh knew who would dare treat Liu Fei Long that way, much less a woman. But then Feodora was someone who was born into an equally powerful family and raised among the Arbatov children as one of their own. The fact that her enemy was in a wheelchair and badly injured made no difference. The Russians show no mercy ⎯ not even if their enemy was in a coma and lying on his deathbed.
"Leave," she demanded. Her tone was as hostile as her action, her teeth gritted so hard her jaws ached. How dare he show himself in this place after what happened! She would have this man out of her life and away from her family, even if she had to gun him down herself. "You are not welcome here!"
"I must see Alexei," Fei Long said without a change in expression. Feodora’s feelings would not make him change his mind, nor the way she looked at him, like he was some kind of parasite. What made a difference, however, was the fact that she was there at all. The meaning of her presence had made his heart race and his breathing quicken. Fei Long's eyes couldn't help but wandered past Feodora's shoulder to the group of men in the corridor, searching for a figure that didn't seem to be among them. He had hoped...
"How dare you?" Feodora questioned, her body shook in fury as tears pooled in her eyes. "When will you be satisfied? Our brother is dead because of you, and God knows what will happen to Vladimir when he hears of this news!" Her voice grew louder as she continued to pour out her hatred. She no longer had it in her to hold back her feelings. Alexei was her brother as well⎯ everything in her life was falling apart because of this man. "You destroy everything you touch! My husband is a wreck and is back on drugs because of you. I will not have you here causing more damage than you've already done, you..."
"Feodora." A low, baritone voice echoed from the hallway leading to the elevator. It was a voice Fei Long knew by heart, but its tone was harsh enough to drain the colors completely from Feodora's cheeks. "Enough." The latter, said in a razor sharp tone and as loud as thunder, was spoken as the last warning. It did work, for Feodora quickly adjusted herself and wiped the tears from her face as though she was in the presence of someone she respected and feared. The man she saw behind Liu Fei Long and his bodyguard was not her friend, her brother, or her husband, but a man who stood at the top of the Russian underworld⎯ one who must be obeyed.
The same voice that silenced Feodora made Fei Long stiffen, and for a moment he could not feel his limbs. Mikhail was standing right behind him, no more than a few steps away, and yet he didn't have the courage to turn around and look. But what difference would it make? Mikhail was there to collect his brother's body, and Fei Long was the last person in the world he wanted to see. It would have taken a stupid man to miss the hostility that hung heavily in the air.
The sound of Mikhail's slow, heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway as he proceeded towards the morgue. Fei Long could smell the familiar scent of aftershave he had come to love as he moved closer and walked right by him without so much as a glance in his direction. He traced his eyes along the outline of those strong shoulders he once admired and realized at once that Feodora's words were true. Mikhail had lost a generous amount of weight, and even those golden curls seemed to have gone dull and unruly. Fei Long wondered if it was just the drugs that affected him so much, or was it Alexei's death that changed him so dramatically. Whatever the reason, the picture he saw in front of him was a sight he would not forget easily.
Fei Long watched quietly as Mikhail disappeared into the waiting room with his subordinates, followed closely by Feodora. A few minutes later some of the bodyguards were dismissed and ordered to wait elsewhere, while one approached him and brought a message that he could see Alexei after they'd finished identifying the body, and that the boss would like to have a word with him when it was over⎯ a proposition that Fei Long accepted.
They were taken to a waiting room next to the room that housed Alexei's body. Three bodyguards still remained in that room, waiting for their boss and his wife to finish the procedure. For two hours Mikhail had stayed there, long after the hospital staff and the police had left. Through the glass panel and the gap between the curtains, Fei Long could see Feodora standing near the door, crying quietly in the corner. In the middle of the room, Mikhail sat on a stool next to the bed and stared at Alexei's body, still as a statue. There was no rage, no tears, not even grief on his face. Mikhail stared as if he didn't feel anything, or, perhaps he couldn't feel anything. Somehow, even with Feodora there with him, the man in that room seemed so far away and alone. Mikhail had retreated into a place where no one was allowed to enter. Feodora seemed to understand this and kept a distance. It seemed that the only way out was to have Alexei come back to life. But life is never that kind, and miracles never happen to people like them.
The sound of the doorknob turning stung like a death sentence. All of a sudden the air seemed stuffy. Mikhail stepped out into the waiting room with Feodora, prompting the bodyguards to rise to their feet and assume position. The Russian lit himself a smoke, a common white one that lacked the smooth, well-bodied fragrance of his usual black and gold cigarette. Pausing a moment to fill his lungs with the toxic smoke, he turned to the Baishe leader with an expression of a man facing a complete stranger.
"As of now my father doesn’t know about this," Mikhail said in a firm and rigid tone, pausing in between to take another puff on his cigarette. "We've done everything in our power to keep it off the news until I return with Alexei's body and can tell him in person. I would appreciate it if you cooperate, as a gesture of compassion."
A gesture of compassion, Fei Long thought. He would have answered it with a sneer if the damn words didn't hurt so much. At that point all he could do was nod, and it seemed that was exactly what Mikhail wanted him to do⎯ listen and nod.
"I've also been informed that my brother has given you the deed to my penthouse," he continued, his blue eyes were blank and had turned almost grey. "I would like it returned to me. My assistant will contact you and will see to it that you are appropriately compensated."
"The deed will be on your desk by tomorrow morning," Fei Long replied readily, as a gesture of compassion. He had hoped for many things in the event that they did see each other again⎯ a word of hello, or maybe a smile that didn't have to be directed at him. But now that they were standing just a few steps away from each other, Mikhail had seen to it that the promise of never seeing or hearing from him again was fulfilled. In front of him stood a man whose eyes showed only a reflection of Liu Fei Long of Baishe, and not a glimpse of the man he once held in his arms with unfathomable affection. In that moment, Fei Long knew everything they once had no matter how deep and profound had been lost. Still, he owed this man more than he could ever hope to repay. "If there's anything else we can do..."
"This is our war," Mikhail cut in before Fei Long could finish the sentence. "I will have no interference from Baishe and ask that you stay out of this as much as you can. Do we understand each other, Liu sìn sàang*?"
Fei Long closed his eyes and tried to swallow what had to be the final and deliberate strike at whatever hope he had left for them. He couldn't say he didn't see it coming, but he'd never thought Mikhail would go so far as to deny him the privilege of being called by his name. Liu sìn sàang. No words had ever hurt so much or cut so deep. Mikhail knew how to strike just as well as how to win him over. One day the memories of the latter would also fade, and all that remained would be scars.
"We understand each other perfectly," Fei Long replied firmly with a faint smile.
Once upon a time they knew each other, and that is where it ends.
----------------
*sìn sàang - Mister
A/N: The good news is, chapter five is also finished and being beta-ed. So if you want it, feel free to comment and beg her here since it's no longer in my hands. ( I'm just j/k. She's battled very hard with my poor English. I feel like paying her for the job and should have given her a break ^^!) Anyway, just wanted to let you guys know it won't be 6 months until the next update, and thank you for all your support and for being here after all this time.