Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 2020complete | Page 622

always lingered in her mind, but it meant a lot for her to step down from her job in a prestigious university
to pursue her current career. Oftentimes, she found it far-fetched to convince that the past was just part of
her milestone, since a noteworthy crystalline memory has already set in stone.
* * *
Meanwhile, Agent W was leisurely taking a bite of the Portuguese food tart in Taipa, Macau. Indeed a fresh
experience for al fresco dining, thought W. In broad daylight, one couldn’t refrain from viewing the
Caucasian as a businessman. Yet, who knew that, beneath the flamboyantly conspicuous suit and the
sunglasses compatible with the lustrously slicked back hair, there would be a spy lying among a riotous pack
of crowd? Only now did he try to collect his wits. He has attempted to put himself into a holiday mood, but
thinking that he was carrying out a mission for Territory 10 – a military intelligence scattered around
Macau, Hong Kong and the mainland China to ensure the safety of these places, he knew he mustn’t slack
off.
W received a phone call.
“It’s been three months since the reappearance of such exquisiteness.” His colleague, S said satirically, who
was on the other end of the line following a reliable track with his prismatic binoculars in his area.
“It’s time to bring red squad team in the spotlight.” W replied. He clicked off his phone and he plucked up
his courage to action.
The two colleagues knew each other’s name but never used them. It was part of their mission. As W was
moving along the intersection, S laid off his binoculars and prepared red squad team to move ahead.
* * *
Five dominant 1994 Dodge Ram Vans made their entrance into an abandoned arsenal. Within seconds,
brawny men craned their heads out of the van, each lifting up the rear of the cars well-orderedly,
resembling American soldiers marching simultaneously for "The Star-Spangled Banner". The soundless
emergence of their leader from the first van was a ludicrous sight. The man, who was wearing a silk
waistcoat covered with embroidery, had a uniform side parting hair. With his presbyopia glasses over his
pockmarked face, he was a character who became alive from the comic books. Under his order, his
subordinates agilely placed approximately ten cartridge boxes on the ground, stacking up orderly.
“Oh where are my manners, folks? I am Lee Takshing, leader of the Blue Dragon.” The little man
exclaimed to the gunrunners standing in front of his crew.
“Let's finish it quick, we don't have all day.” Their gunrunners said.
Unbeknownst to the gang of mobsters, Agent W and Agent S had already assembled their fellow red squad
teammates outside the arsenal. They were hiding in the nook, while placing a roadblock with their 2000
Chevrolet Suburban, ensuring them nowhere to skedaddle.
“Please accept my apologies. I am deeply sorry to place our precious weaponry in timbers –” Lee trailed off.
“Territory 10! Freeze! Put your hands over your head and get down on the floor!” W bellowed, with a
pistol trained on Lee.
Just as W was relieving himself at making a classic crime film scene as a typical SWAT team member, he was
first greeted by the dejected expressions of S and the teammates.
Then he acknowledged Lee's warped sense of humor. “Why? How coincidental! Agent W, I have been
expecting you.”
Only now did he know he has made a foolhardy scene. As Lee's subordinates lifted open the cartridge boxes,
they were vacant. Before W and the gunrunners could gasp, Lee rasped.