It opens up with Kenn, Dave and I investigating a horrid murder. A woman in her 40s was walking home from the market late at night, all within her lovely gated community, and was visciously cut to pieces. Nothing stolen, no apparent motive, just disgustingly cold blooded murder. Kenn, Dave and I were on the scene immediately the following morning, all of us dressed in suits. I was finding things in the early morning with use of a flashlight, Dave was making incredibly detailed notes, and Kenn was actually laying hands on the evidence, trying to piece all the information together. We'd been there for nearly an hour when a call came in over the radio. Apparently the Hong Kong Triad was back in San Francisco (where we obviously work), and proof of that fact are reports of wrecklessness coming in from people who witnessed it the night before. Now, wrecklessness happens all night, every night, but the reason we cared about this call was the specifics of it. There were four men, drunk and each carrying a bottle of alcohol, holding on to the roofs of four red 'racer' cars, tearing through the streets of San Francisco. The last man to climb back into the car, in some way, proves his worth and courage over the other three. And we knew right away that this was the playing around of the Four Brothers, four boys all born on the same day by the three heads of the Triad, one pair of twins, and two others. So, on the trail of these wild kids, Kenn, Dave and I somehow believed that they would eventually lead us to the Triad, and that way we could finally shut them down. The three of us followed their trail into many night-clubs, underground gambling rings, strip clubs, etc. And in doing so, we got into many scuffles and fights. One of the most memorable fights started when Dave defended himself. The three of us were trying to get into a speak-easy, and Kenn was doing all the talking (we figured that Kenn being asian himself might get better luck of getting than just all three of us showing up flashing badges). Kenn was doing all the talking, and doing it well, until suspicions by the club owners arose into an argument, and one of the bouncers pulled a knife on Dave. In a blizzard of motion, something awesome like three quick and simple moves in less that two seconds, Dave had the bouncer nearly on his knees, turned around and in a headlock, with the boucer's knife in Dave's hand, placed flatly on the bouncer's cheek with the tip of the blade just barely scraping against the bottom eyelid. Everyone stepped back in awe except for Kenn and I who know perfectly well what each one of us is capable of. We were granted entrance, no more questions. Another spectacular fight I remember is when we were 'hot' on the trail of the brothers, in a brewery of all places, and finally caught up to them and about ten of their enterage. The three of us were somehow trapped in a small warehouse, and seriously outnumbered, we knew we were going to have to fight our way out. It was a brutal fight, and I was the only one that couldn't be taken down. We all sustained several serious beatings, but I was the only one that remained standing at all times. Kenn was all into his Chow Yun Fat style of fighting, a gun in each hand, each bullet let loose perfectly aimed. He did plenty of jumping and quick climbing up steel ladders for better vantage points. Hand to hand, however, for Kenn, was awesome. He never let go of his gun, so when hand to hand happened, he punched with his guns. He loved to catch punches because his attacked would punch into the steel of his pistols. Kenn was a sight to see. Dave was a little trickster when fighting. Although he was taken down more than Kenn, he made sure he fell where he wanted to fall; next to a free pipe, piece of wood, bucket, broom, whatever. Always aware of his surroundings, Dave had an instant advantage going to a fight with someone and he exploited it to its fullest. As for me, I rarely left the very center of the warehouse, breaking the legs and arms of the kicks and punches thrown at me, using a gun only when absolutely necessary, towards the very end. When it all ended, the four brothers ran, carrying one of the twins who had been severely wounded by Kenn, followed by two of their troop, also wounded. Kenn had taken a bullet to his right shoulder, Dave suffered no more than a couple scratches and bruises, and I had a busted rib, knee, and fingers. The rest of the dream was much darker. I'm walking around with heavy bandaging under my shirt, and my left hand wrapped in gauze. Kenn's shoulder wasn't so bad that he had to have his arm in a sling, but it was a bit bigger than the other under his shirt sue to its bandaging. Dave was the only one with nothing more than a couple bandais here and there. Turns out, Kenn wounded one of the brothers just enough for the wounds to kill him several hours later. It was at the funeral for the fallen brother that we confront the remaining three for the last time. We show up alone, yet with hoards of back-up waiting outside. We knew that the heads of the Triad would be there, and that meant plenty of protection. And, unfortunately, that's where I woke up. Dream over, however, plenty of good material for a movie. |
