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| HOT PURSUIT
VOL 2 EPISODE 4
As the EMS take the man out on stretcher they tell the police officer that he will make it. Strike hearing that breathes a sigh of relief.
Strike heads away from the scene noticing the time and getting late decides to stay in Chinatown for the night and looks for a cheap room. In a seeder section of town he pushes his way through the door into a dimly lit reception area, cobwebs hug the ceiling and nicotine permeates the air. "I been worst places” Strike thinks to himself. When he approaches the counter a young Asian woman asks "You need room?”
"Yes please.” strike says. She hands him the key room number but hold onto the key portion of the ring.
She hold out her hand and asks "How much?”
"How much what?” Strike asks.
"How much you pay for me?" she states.
Strike looks her up and down with an appraising eye but then shakes his head, "You got me messed up. Not tonight, sweet thang." Then he will push past her on into the place.
She looks startled, her mouth gaping open in shock. As if you're the first customer to have ever refused their "other" services. She eyes him suspiciously all the way to the room on the first floor of this little piece of hell. Room 101. Turning a corner he reaches his room, out of her sight.
Strike pauses at the door and wait there for a minute or 2 to see if anyone follows him. Strike will shrug and unlock the door. Strike quickly steps through and closes the door.
Standing in the dark he feels on the wall for a light switch. The wall feels like a plaster wall.. bumpy.
He feels around the wall for a couple of seconds until he feels the light switch. Turning it on cockroaches that cover the walls and ceiling scurry for a hiding place. Standing in a room, no larger than 6x8. The wall is a pale shade of yellow that has probably only faded with time. The carpet, a green flat carpet is covered with small brown spots. The room is barren with the exception of a small television set, a a tiny nightstand with a lamp on it, and, of course, a bed.
Strike looks around and shrugs, "It's about all I expected.” Then sits down on the bed.
There are mirrors on the ceiling and a little quarter slot for the bed to jiggle with a little label that advertises "midnight rides". The air is thick with a canned deodorant scent.
Just outside his door it sounds like someone hit a wall or something.
Strike gets up, moves to the door and listens. and suddenly it swings open two sinister looking Chinese men stand outside the door with menacing expressions on their face.: One is tall. The other is short. The short one speaks with a mangled English accent. "So you enjoy your stay so far? Why you refuse our hospitality? So rude!"
Strike stands straight and crosses his arms before speaking, "Do you really want to do this? I'm tired, hungry and had an overall bad day. I will give you one chance to turn around and leave this room."
He grits his teeth. In answer, he charges, while the tall thug draws a knife.
Strike sighed, "I tried to give you a chance." moves to grab the one charging him in a massive bear hug.
He charges right into strikes waiting arms and quickly squeeze him with a bear hug. Careful not to squeezes too hard, so he don't KILL the fool. The guy tries to break free from your overwhelming grip, but he's obviously no match.
The other guy moves in to help his friend. Within seconds the man that Strike grapples, gasps and finally lets go of consciousness. Strike lets him fall to the floor in a heap and grabs the startled man as he thrusts his knife at you. But instead of piercing your hand, the metal tip simply bends and snaps. Strike grabs him around the neck and squeeze. He instantly drops the knife to the ground and screeches.. "Ahhhhhh. What you do to me?! Stop it! Let me go! Stop it! That hurts!"
Strike looks serious, "I gave y'all the chance to leave, you chose to attack me. I reckon y'all done learnt a lesson, no?"
"Who are you? Why are here, if you don't want our girls?! We don't ask for trouble here. We mind our own business. Why you come here?"
Strike still holding onto the man's neck, "All I wanna be is left alone and do get some rest. Understand? No more visits."
He nods as best he can. "I understand. So sorry, sir. We will not bother you any more! Please don't hurt me," he whimpers.
Strike will release the man by dropping him to the floor and then stepping on the knife, "Get your friend and go. The knife stays here. Make sure to tell all your friends, I just want to be left alone."
"I will sir. I promise you this. So sorry, so sorry." His short friend starts to come to, and follows his lead. With a little bow he and the tall man escape the room.
Strike will watch them leave with an impassive look on his face and then simply shut the door after they leave.
Strike goes out on patrol again. Around 9:30 he takes in a simple dinner and the time passes uneventfully. Strike has come to notice a look of fear suspicion that is familiar among many of the Chinese in this city. Especially in the restaurant at dinner, you see the way they huddle together, speaking in whispers in a language that you don't understand. It doesn't seem to be directed at you, but something has definitely got the Chinese spooked in this town. Most likely the arsons.
Strike thinks "This would be easier if I spoke Chinese...~ Instead, he finishes his meal and just tries to pick up whatever bits of info he can from them. If he finds someone who is less suspicious, he will try to strike up a friendly conversation.
Most of the people here are in groups. But there is one, a young guy about his age, who is hanging out by himself.
Strike walks over casually to him and do the universal nod, "What's up?"
"Hello. How are you?" He seems a little suspicious of you, but not overly so.
Strike shrugs, "As good as one can be I guess... just trying to get my bearings around here but things feel.... off. If you know what I mean."
"Oh.. you are not from the city. I can tell from your accent. Are you enjoying your visit to New York?"
Strike smiles, "Ya, a lot of folks seem ta know I'm from outta town. As for enjoying... as much as I can. But everyone seems ta be upset or somethin'. I heard there have been bad t'ings goin' on aroun' 'ere."
"Ah.." he lowers his head in a conspiratorial fashion. "Yes there is that. New York can be a very dangerous city too."
Strike looks around a bit, as if feeding into the conspiratorial nature of the conversation, "Like what?"
"You have not heard of the fires?"
"Ohhh... yeah but I thought they were just fires..."
"They are not just ordinary fires," he whispers. "It is arson."
Strike grimaces, "Arson... 'dats never a good thing. But that makes people more scared?"
"Yes, they are scared to TRUST. They are fearful, because nobody wants to be NEXT."
Strike makes a shocked face, "I see... no one would want to be next. I know I wouldn't. Ain't de police helpin'?"
He chuckles. "I see that you really do not know the Chinese. They do not tell the police what is really happening, because they do not TRUST the police. Chinese do not bring outsiders."
"You got d'dat right, I don' know. Is there anyone dey do trust that is helpin'?"
Suddenly, he looks at you a bit suspiciously. "You ask many questions. I don't even know your name."
Strike smiles disarmingly and raises his hands with a soft chuckle, "You done got me. My mama always said I was a nosy lil cuss. I apologize. M'name's Dwayne. And I'm just trying to see why everyone seemed scared. At firs' I thought it be me when I was in de restaurant."
He politely bows his head. "My name is Jamie Chin. I am Chinese American, so I am less suspicious than most, but then again, I have not been brought up in China. In China there are secret police everywhere. That is why the Chinese do not trust the police.”
Strike offers his hand to Jamie, "Pleased to meet ya. And where I come from, people act the same way.. except they have another phrase, "No snitchin'".
He laughs. "I can understand though. It is the same problem here. Nobody wants to snitch, not because they condone, but because they are AFRAID." Where are you from, Dwayne?"
"Me? From New Orleans. " He looked around, "Yah, I can almost feel the fear."
"Ah. You are visiting from New Orleans? How long will you stay in New York?”
"Right now, I'm just here for a few days... but may extend my stay. Might find something interesting to make me stay. Never know."
"Are you here on business?”
Strike shakes his head, "More like sight seeing."
"I see." He glances at his watch. "It is almost 10:30 already!"
Strike looks around, "Ummm... sooooo? What's so important about the time?"
"I have to get up early tomorrow. I should be going." He rises from the table.
Strike nods, "Well, it sure was good to meet one friendly face 'ere. Thanks."
"It was nice to meet you Dwayne. And a word of advise.. not to scare you... But be careful about what questions that you ask in this neighborhood."
Strike nods, "I will take your advice."
"Chinatown has an undercurrent, and many people are not aware..." On that bizarre note, he gathers his jacket and tucks his chair in."Good luck to you, friend." He walks away, leaving you to ponder his strange warning.
Strike looks around for a moment after he leaves and then gets up and leaves himself, heading to his cheap room.
As Strike gets up to leave, a TV Bulletin catches your attention, from a TV screen that hangs on the wall. Oddly enough, the report is in English, though most of the customers are Chinese.
"Corona was last seen this afternoon, dangling a child off the Manhattan Bridge. It is believed that he's heading into Chinatown. Citizens are warned to be on the lookout.”
Strike struggles to contain himself but a small smile touches the edge of his mouth as he thinks, "Finally... a chance to catch up to this mofo...”
The TV cuts to an angry looking woman dressed in pink. "He was trying to KILL my baby boy!" "One minute my son was on the bridge with us, and the next minute that MONSTER had him."
Strike watches the report until it is done.
"Why do you think Corona returned your son to the bridge?" the male reporter asks. "I don't know." The father responds. "Maybe it was a GAME to him. Like cat and mouse. Or maybe he just didn't want WITNESSES. All I know is that he grabbed my son from the bridge. And thank GOD he had a last minute change of heart." "But will CHINATOWN be so lucky?" A lady anchorwoman asks. Police are currently investigating reports of sightings within Chinatown. He was last seen flying over an alleyway, between Baxter and Mulberry street. ... where a mugging is also reported to have taken place... There is no information at this time as to whether Corona's appearance on the scene is related in any way. Strike thinks, ~There is no way I can get there that fast, Corona flies... but I can try to head in that direction and maybe I can overhear or pick up if anyone has seen him.~ He will then pay his bill and head out.
The report ends and switches to a science piece about Snake Venom.
you learn a couple of things on the scene. Apparently there was some kind of mugging that took place right in the alleyway that Corona had been been seen over. But the woman who was mugged suffered no burns. Also, in addition to Corona, there was an unidentified man on some kind of flying hover board, who was blasting some kind of electrical blast from a huge gauntlet that he wore on his hand. The police showed up in droves, but Corona flew away at approximately 100 miles an hour heading East. The police are now searching for Corona, the man with the hover board, who was apparently black, and wearing mostly green street clothes, and some youths who are suspects for the mugging.
Strike curses under his breath as he missed Corona and this new person but it seems like Chinatown is the center point for things... so after sticking around for a little bit, he will just head back to his room if nothing else catches his attention.
Strike hears police sirens in the distance coming from the East. That's where the Manhattan Bridge was. On a hunch, Strike is going to follow the sirens. There aren't too many cars out at this time of night. But he sees a taxi cab in the distance.
Strike smirks to himself, "This should prove interesting...” He begins to try to flag down the taxi for a ride.
"Where you going?" he demands.
Strike leans and opens the door, "I need to get to the Manhattan Bridge."
"Yes. Come in. I will take you."
Strike hops in.
He pulls away, speeding toward the Manhattan Bridge. He pretty much ignores him on the way over, instead talking to someone in Indian with the aid of his blue tooth device clipped to his ear. There's not much traffic, but just as his luck would have it, hit all the red lights. Strike REALLY hopes that this is not a waste of a trip, as he reviews all that he's learned so far.
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