Hestin Street, Vancouver.I"m wearing the cloth which Captain Wick gave me. It"s a cotton jacket. It"s dark, slightly larger. But I put my hands in pockets, which is not very conspicuous, and the backpack behind me is very leisure.
Apparently, I"m no different from most people on the street. I come all the way to see two policemen. When I swagger past them, their eyes just sweep around me, not even a second to stay. I know I"m not far from success.
Previously, the truck only took me to the door of a fishery company in Vancouver. I asked the driver about the direction of Hestin Street, then I walked for nearly one and a half hour to finally arrive here.
I didn"t take a taxi because I can"t understand the language and was afraid to show off. In North America, there is a strong sense of law among the people. Once people have any questions, they will call the police at the first time.
So I just walked for so long, look at the sign of the Hestin Street, and finally laugh and sigh with relief.
It"s ridiculous to say that even the word "Hestin" I don"t recognize too. It"s only through half-guessing that I can figure it out.
B1, 107 Hestin Street, Vancouver. It"s the address fat fellow gave me.
Actually, on the way here just now, I called the number left by fat fellow in the telephone booth beside the road. Unfortunately, the phone rang for a long time and n.o.body answered it. I can only find it all by myself. It seems that I am unlucky today.
I check the address, that"s right.
In front of me is a car wash shop, a two-storey building which is not very tall. The building style of the whole street is similar, and the road is not broad. There are few cars and pedestrians on the street.
I wonder how good business can be if car washers operate in this area. The door of the shop is wide open. I stand at the front of the door, knock and shout, but no one answer me. There isn"t even a shop a.s.sistant.
There are two cars in the shop, and a running water device for electric car washing is running, making a roar.
I tighten my backpack slightly behind me, then enter the shop and shout, "Is there anybody there?"
No one answer me except the sound of the car washer. I see some water hydrants in the corner, and there are some car washing equipment and tools, but no shop a.s.sistant is working, which makes me somewhat puzzled.
Inside, there is a staircase leading upstairs. I stand downstairs and shout. Still n.o.body answer. Then I hesitate and step upstairs.
I have just come to the corner of the stairs when a strong music comes, as if someone suddenly turns on the stereo. I"m really startled by such strong music.
Upstairs is a long corridor with several rooms and doors are all opening. But there is n.o.body. As soon as I go up the stairs, I reach out half of my head and hear a "boom" in my ear. These days of experience, let me immediately recognize that this is the gunshot!
I tighten my head and fall down immediatly. Then I hear the sound of wood cracking in my ears. The railings on the stairs are smashed by the gunshot and the sawdusts are flying. Some sawdusts splash on my face and neck.
I can"t help cursing "Fx.x.x!"
Next, it"s like a gunfight movie I"ve seen. The sounds of gunshots are loud in my ears. I"m lying on the ground and see several people coming out of the rooms on both sides at the same time. Under the cover of the corridor rooms on both sides, they are dressing in different clothes, raising pistols and firing fiercely at the end of the corridor, that is, at the left side of me.
As I"m lying on the ground, I hear bullets whistling in my ears, gunshots raining, as dense as fried beans! The sounds of gla.s.s breaking, wood breaking are one after another.
Finally, after a fierce shooting, a brief recovery of calm, the whole second floor still echoes the strong music!
I"m stunned. I"m totally stunned!
I come according to the address provided by fat fellow, but I don"t expect to run into this kind of thing!
It"s as if I had suddenly enter a battlefield. There are people shooting at each other on my left and right, and the funny thing is that I am in the middle of them!
From the point of view of where I"m lying, I can see that there are three or four people on my right side, while there seems to be only one person on my left side. I feel it from the bombardment of guns.
The two sides are quiet for a while, and I hear the people on the right side are shouting a few words of abuse. From these figures and their skin color, plus my previous experience at sea, I immediately judge that they are speaking Vietnamese!
On the other side, an old voice immediately shouts, "Fx.x.x You! Vietnamese can"t die very well. If you want my life, just come and get it!"
The voice is strong, neutral. It"s in our language.
I immediately judge that this guy is mostly the one fat fellow ask me to look for!
Actually, I don"t need to judge much.
I"m sandwiched in the middle when I meet two groups fighting. Vietnamese on the one hand and the other is from mainland. Fools know who I should help!
After yelling and scolding for a while, suddenly I hear a Vietnamese try to lean out. This is immediately attracted shooting. The two sides fired another round at each other. But the gunfire on the left is thinning out.
I"m afraid he"s running out of bullets! An idea is flashing through my mind.
Sure enough, the Vietnamese seem to be aware of this, and one of them dares to step out and rush past. In the opposite room, the guy is cursing, "d.a.m.n Vietnamese!"
I"ve been lying on the ground. When I came upstairs, those Vietnamese must have seen me. But after a burst of shooting, I didn"t get up. They probably think I was dead. The Vietnamese tentatively approaches the room on my left. As he is pa.s.sing by, I suddenly bounce off the ground and twisting him. We two men are rolling together in arms. I have no weapons in my hand, so can only grab a broken piece of wood I have just picked up on the ground and insert the sharp end into the root of the Vietnamese"s thigh.
He"s screaming and wrestling arms immediately softens down. I see two Vietnamese behind me who have raised their guns in surprise. I quickly hug the Vietnamese and roll into a room. While two of us just jump into the room, I hear the thump of guns behind my head. Several craters are immediately fired from the original ground.
In fact, I am very lucky. This building is a wooden building and the bullets fire in the wood will not rebound. Otherwise, just the bullets rebound may kill me!
The Vietnamese is screaming with his hands over the root of his thighs. There"s a lot of blood. I can"t be sure where the sharp wood has been inserted. It might be his lifeblood or just his thigh. I just let him go, pick up his gun and dodge behind the corner.
The Vietnamese is rolling on the ground. From my point of view, I"m just facing him. Another Vietnamese wants to come and save his companion on the ground. I fire two shots at once and force him back.
My two shots went really awry. No way, I haven"t shot before. Where can I use a gun when I was in the country? But that"s enough to intimidate them not to come up. The Vietnamese on the ground is bleeding more and more. I hesitate for a moment, but I don"t shoot him. At this time, the guy in my left side is shouting, "Which brother is coming? d.a.m.n, kill these Vietnamese devils! Have you got a grenade?"
I gasp for breath. I don"t understand what he said. What"s the "grenade"? I don"t understand. As I"m about to speak, I hear a few gunshots outside.
Now the situation is that I am still sandwiched in the middle, on both sides of the corridor, they each occupy a room, and I am in the middle of that room. I"d love to go out and meet the guys on the left, but unfortunately I can"t go out. Once I go out, I"ll be shot into a honeycomb.
I gasp for breath, then shout out, "What grenades? I am not..."
Bang Bang Bang Bang, a few gunshots overwhelme my voice.
The guy on the left is scolding, "d.a.m.n, can"t you understand me? Is this a stupid foolish coming?"
I feel more and more confused. I can"t understand what this guy says. I take advantage of the chaos outside and look at the furnishings in the room.
The room is very empty. It can be seen that it"s an office with only one table and several cabinets, and nothing else.
But when I glance at the window in front of me, I have a good idea. I run over quickly and push the window open.
I take a breath, flash to the door, and fire several shots to deter the other side. Then I run quickly to the window and stretch out my legs.
Outside is the street, but fortunately there"s a windowsill under the window. I grab the bulge on the window wall and move quickly to the other side. I"ve judged that moving a few meters from my window to the left is the room where that fellow stays.
It"s not too high from the ground, only about three meters high. As I"m climbing fast, I"m wondering why that fellow didn"t run away. If he would jump out of the window, it would be easy to jump down and escape within three meters of the ground.
Finally, I arrive at the window of his room and smash the gla.s.s with a punch. At the same time, I"m shouting, "Own side, don"t shoot!"
I dash in with my head smashing through the window, and roll to the ground. Before I get up, I feel a chill on my neck!
I felt the edge of the knife cold against my neck, one hand holding the handle of the knife, very stable, and then a cold voice says: "What own side? Who are you?"
It"s the voice of that guy! I gasp for breath and then offer to turn the gun in my hand back to him.
He immediately releases the knife, takes the gun, and shoots to outside. I turn over, get up, and finally see this man clearly.
He is about fifty years old, very thin, side-to-side face to me, long hair, prominent facial contour, standard mainland face shape.
I finally know why he didn"t jump the window and escape! He"s sitting! Underneath his a.s.s is a wheelchair!
He fires two shots, then turns around and points the gun at me. "Who are you? I have never seen you before!"
I look at the muzzle of the gun, take a deep breath, look into his eyes, and then slowly say a word:
"Knife mountain and sea of the fire!"