Issue 2: "Swiss Mist"
Shing Mun, Hong Kong
Christmas Day, 1967
♬我没看见他 !I have barely escaped and now I am on the run. The path I'm on is dark and treacherous. Men have died along this way, whether it was decades ago or even a few hours earlier today. Mud weighs down each step I take and rock breaks my skin and stride. Yet, I must continue. Even as my bones tire and my will gives in to despair, I must continue to run like a scolded rat being chased away by a mad dog in the cold, howling rain. The monsoon season masks their gunshots with its torrential rainfall and booming thunder, yet I can still clearly hear the commissar's chilling commands.
传播;传播！找他！But I do not panic even as my hand's phantom pain sets in. For the moonlight has abandoned the heavens and only the shadow of the night reigns over the sky. In its fickle mercy, it has given me sanctuary. My captors have lost sight of me for they have followed me down to this damned, winding path and only those that have escaped the labyrinth before can navigate its desolate trenches and abandoned redoubts. I have done so once. Against my will and against the fanatical. But like now as before, I cannot help but smile. A bloody, wheezing chuckle escapes my mouth as I recall that the fools commanding the defence during the war had named this position the Gin Drinker's Line.
安静！我听见他了！My mouth betrays me but my memory does not. In those decades before, the British dared to name this dugout I find myself in the headquarters of the Oriental Maginot Line. They were right to do so but all for the wrong reasons. Like its namesake, it fell so easily to the enemy... I will probably fall to the same fate, to die in this miserable hole chased by as prey.
Yet, I must continue. The Dragon must know that the Snake bares its fangs at him, readying to strike.
我找到他了 !
THE AMERICANA HOTEL
New York City, New York
9:04PM, December 31st, 1967
♬"You're dead, lady!" yelled an overweight oaf in a karate gi as he charged at the correctly addressed Lady Shiva. By doing so, he gave away the element of surprise and traded it in for the element of disappointment as his disinterested opponent used what struggling momentum he had to judo flip him flat on his back. His comrades telegraphed all their moves too, as if it was the first lesson the Marquis D'Maq had drilled into their heads. Regardless, it made for an interesting spectacle as Shiva made short work of each martial arts mook, drawing enthusiasm from the crowd.
She knew that the true target was getting away though but had entrusted that her former and once-again ally Richard Dragon would subdue him. The arms dealer Guano Cravat and his bodyguards had used the commotion to sneak out through a narrow service corridor leading to the kitchen. Still hot on the pursuit, Dragon had decided to call in for backup through his ear-piece communicator.
"Ling, have the local PD converge! Target's making a break for it through the back!" However, this escape wasn't as clean as Dragon made it out to be as Guano and his five goons were held up in the kitchen, arguing with a man shorter than all of them in a sauce-stained apron and drooping chef's hat, completing the ensemble with a wifebeater shirt. The only thing he was missing was a lit up Camel cigarette to complete what Richard envisioned to be that New York working class look but upon hearing him speak, it was pretty much there in spirit.
"Hey yuh can't be here! We're makin' souffles and mistuh Tisch is gonna flip if dey doan come out perfectly! Cah-peesh?!" the chef would say in the deepest, scratchiest voice Richard had ever heard. Instead of coming to a reasonable understanding, which no one expected at all to happen, they all got into a shouting match. Impressively, the short-statured chef was easily the loudest though that old windbag Guano was giving him a run for his money as he slowly turned beet-red from yelling. Not wanting to rudely interrupt, Richard decided to walk slowly to the nearest bodyguard and politely tap on his shoulder.
"WHAT, CAN'T YOU SE-" *bash* *
fa-thud*
Before he could finish, Richard's backhand fist had knocked him out cold on the ground. This temporarily silenced the room as Guano and his goons realized they were now in the presence of the one and only, highly decorated, world-famous, confidently smiling Richard Drago-
"GET HIM!" Guano would yell before pushing the chef towards Richard. Though this Brooklyn baker stumbled towards him, Richard used his hands to leapfrog off the chef's shoulders and transitioned to a high jump kick in mid-air to knock down a second goon, driving his knee down his chest as he descended. The remaining three were quick to surround him and, unlike the amateurs Shiva had to deal with, attacked at once. Each swinging fist was met with a quick block from Richard, aiming at their wrists with knifehand strikes. Each jab aimed at the Dragon's maw was dodged as with the grace of a butterfly. One of them decided to sweep the Dragon's legs from behind while he was focused on the others but almost as if he had eyes on the back of his head, Richard evaded the strike with a kip-up and followed through with a spinning hook kick in retaliation.
Having enough of it, one of the men decided to grab a nearby kitchen knife and wildly stab at the Dragon. The first stab had Richard sidestep in order to gauge his opponent. The second stab had Dragon catch him by the wrist and twisting his arm, forcing him to release the knife. As tension had stiffened the goon's forearm, a quick elbow strike crashing down on it had audibly
*snapped* the knife bearer's limb. After witnessing such calculated brutality, the remaining two goons looked at each other with widened eyes and a synchronized nod. With scowls still on their faces, they slowly backed off... Before completely running away with their arms flailing in the air. With an exhausted sigh, Richard eased his stance and began turning his head back and forth as he tried to figure out where Guano had escaped to.
"Hey mistuh Dragon, dat schmeboygah went out through de fire exit!" the onlooking confectioner stated, pointing to an unmarked door at the back of the kitchen next to the stacks of dishes that miraculously stayed in one piece. With a similar nod as those that had just ran out the kitchen, Richard would grab the knife he had disarmed earlier and bolt out as he continued the pursuit. True enough, it led to an outside ally but it really shouldn't be a fire exit with how little space there was for an organized queue, what with garbage cans and clothes lines taking up most of the area. But now wasn't the time for chastising bad safety regulations for Guano Cravat was getting in to an escape car down the street!
"So long, Dragon! I hate your movies by the way! HAHAHA!" he would yell out from the passenger's seat. This moment of gloating would be the criminal's downfall as Richard took that opportunity to aim the knife at the car's front tire. Before Guano knew what was happening, the blade was already in the air and quickly approaching. Both Richard and Guano awaited in anticipation, the latter's mouth agape with a gasp at what was a very improbable knife throw that could make or break a sting operation that was months in the making...
And of course it missed. It didn't even reach the car. The knife lost momentum about three feet in front of Richard and definitely hit one of those clotheslines he was just complaining about. Plus, his throwing hand was the same he had used to crush the glass way earlier during the night and his adrenaline wasn't making up for his sapped strength. The silence didn't last long though as Guano broke into laughter, turning red once again. But that wasn't only thing turning red as the approaching policemen's sirens alternated between that and blue. They had successfully shut down the street and had surrounded Guano.
Before Richard could apprehend the arms dealer, the getaway driver stepped out of the vehicle. Like the others, he wore round sunglasses and a white tuxedo. However, his skin was paler and almost looked translucent under the moonlight. He would stand across Richard down the alleyway but had a composed stance as he reached into his inner breast pocket. But he wasn't reaching for a gun as out came a thick cigar with a golden seal. The policemen had already cuffed Guano at this point and were already ordering the driver to stand down. Yet, he simply lit his cigar and smoked away.
In one drag, the cigar was consumed to ash. As he exhaled, a cloud of rushing smoke had engulfed him and the alley. Richard had to shield his eyes from this sudden smog but by the time it dissipated, the driver was gone.
"Where is he?" asked Shiva, who had just arrived from the fire exit.
"Where is that Swiss snake?!"
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