A third shot tore at the air to his right. Something hot slammed into the bend of his elbow, causing his hand to convulse. The blade slipped impotently from an open palm. He backpedaled, intent on keeping the pregnant woman between him and what had to be a shotgun. Sophie Li had other ideas. Screaming with rage, she spun, clawing at Kang’s face, flaying skin off his nose and cheeks with her nails. He ducked, striking out blindly, shoving the crazed woman away before he lost an eye. Another shot shook the walls, blasting a gaping hole in the Sheetrock next to Kang’s ear. He scrambled over the railing, landing halfway down the stairs. A fifth blast, followed rapidly by a sixth, sent Rose and Lily fleeing down the steps after him. The women fired pistols over their shoulders as they fled, but hit nothing.

Kang squatted low, behind the relative cover of the landing. He’d regained the use of his hand, so the wound to his elbow couldn’t have been too bad. Probably birdshot. He ducked his head, pistol drawn now, ready to rush the stairs. They did not need to talk to Peter Li that badly. The important thing was to tie up loose ends. Li had to die. Kang would kill the family for sport. Retribution for… fighting back. The odor of gun smoke and urine from Wu Chao’s spilled bladder made Kang pause — which saved his life.

Rather than retreat, Peter Li advanced with the shotgun, blasting well-aimed shots down the stairwell now that his wife and stepchildren were out of the way. Lily crumpled forward, clutching her stomach. The next shot clipped away her ponytail, hitting her squarely in the back of the neck, nearly decapitating her at this close range. An anchor shot. Li was picking them off, one by one. He kept shooting, reloading from cover, then blasting away each time he topped off his weapon.

The man knew how to fight.

Kang and Rose fled the house, bursting out the back door at a dead run. Both were heaving from frustration and adrenaline by the time they crashed into the dark wood line above the lake. The police were surely on their way.

Crouching behind a clump of scrub oak, Kang turned to give this place of utter failure one last look. To his astonishment, bright flashes lit the second-floor windows. Li was still shooting. He didn’t know the intruders were gone, or how many were in his house. Amazingly, the shots inside the brick house were inaudible from just a few dozen yards away. It was as if Li were watching a John Wick movie inside with the sound off. The neighbors would not have heard anything, certainly nothing that would make them call 911.

“Lily…” Rose whispered. “That bastard killed Lily…”

“And he will pay for it,” Kang said. “He will pay dearly.”

“We must report in,” Rose said.

“We will,” Kang said. “When the mission is complete. Go down to the boat and get the RPG. The pregnant woman is injured. The police will transport her to the hospital. When Li comes out to ride with her…”

“But the police will search the grounds—”

The garage door flew off its tracks and a gray Mercedes SUV burst out, shooting down the driveway carrying the door on the bumper for several dozen yards before it fell away. Taillights flashed and tires squealed as the vehicle fishtailed through the darkness, rounding the bend toward Leonard Wood Avenue.

“This is shit!” Rose spat.

“No,” Kang said. “This is good. This is very good. I do not think they called the police.”

“Lily is dead!” Rose said, seething. “Wu Chao is dead! The man we came to kill still lives. His fat cow wife still lives. This can only be called a disaster.”

“But we are not dead.” Kang tipped his head toward the road where the SUV had disappeared. His lip trembled as the reality of what had just occurred crashed down on his shoulders. “It does not matter where Li runs. Do not forget that we still have the means to track him. Neither he nor his precious family will live to see nightfall.”

<p>40</p>

Ding’s tracker was still active at Suparman Games headquarters when John Clark parked a block away, in the back lot of a car dealership along Sam Ratulangi Road. The rented Toyota van blended in better on the lot than it would have on the side of the relatively sleepy divided four-lane. Making his approach from any closer meant that he might be up on exterior cameras. Any farther away and he risked exposure to passersby or people simply trying to cool off on their porches. As far as he’d been able to see, there was no distinct line between residential and business districts. A dirt-floor hovel might occupy the lot next to a high-end grocery, or the owners of a mansion might look out the window to the roof of a convenience store.

Suparman was wise indeed if he’d been thinking in terms of a neighborhood watch when he planned where to put his headquarters. The street had plenty of private residences to sound the alarm if anything or anyone looked out of the ordinary.