The Dragon Lords

This is a beginning of an older story I wrote on here that was lost, so I am typing it again.

                                                               The Dragonlords

              Chapter One: The Attack

  Li Wong braced himself against the onslaught of the howling wind, which sounded like hordes of banshees.  The sky bombarded him with cold, sharp bullets of water.  Waves crashed against the boat. The boat lurched back and forth amidst the fearsome squall like a drunken seaman.  He carried a AK47 with a hefty supply of bullets in case the pirates should dare to attack the White Tiger in such horrendous weather. 

 The White Tiger was a ship that carried spices from one side of the world to the other.  It was a magnificent boat, a giant behemoth of the modern era of spice trade.  It cut through the water as smoothly as any sailing boat however and was as swift as it could be, considering its overwhelming size.

 He was glad he hadn't eaten much earlier today.  Suddenly, a light from another boat shone into his eyes, blinding him.  Gunshots rang out and pelted the boat's hull.  Shadows detatched themselves from the night and hands pulled him down to the deck.  He fought fiercely against his attackers.  Finally, after what seemed an eternity, his friend, James Birmingham, shot the two men in the back who held Li down and pulled Li to his feet.  Breathing raggedly, he leaned against his friend until he regained some composure.

Smiling, he laughed and said, "All in a day's work, eh, James?" 

James laughed and patted him on the back.  "We sent those suckers packing didn't we, mate?"

Suddenly, one of the pirates James had shot lurched to his feet and staggered towards him, brandishing a knife.  James deftly knocked it out of his assailants hand, then elbowed the guy in the stomach.  He then hit him with his fist on the chin, knocking him out cold.  

"Looks like we got ourselves a prisoner.  Let's throw the other one overboard and bring this one inside, okay, Li?"

Li nodded.  

Together, they hauled the cumbersome body to the edge of the deck and heaved it over.  It tumbled into the water and then, with a loud splash, went under the churning waves.  Sighing with relief that they were alive, the two men clapped each other on the back and hauled the prisoner inside to the bridge of the boat.

After dragging the prisoner inside to the bridge, they put him down beside the captain, who swivels around and grimaces in disgust at the pirate.   

Nodding at the Li and James, he says: "Good work, gentlemen.  I will question the pirate myself, with my men guarding me.  It's time you went to your stations, in case the pirates are brave enough to attack us again."

Nodding their heads, Li and James went back outside, praying the deluge had stopped.  Their prayers were answered.  It appeared the sun was making an attempt to shine through the dispersing storm clouds.  The golden rays of the rising sun shone on the water, glittering as if a sea of diamonds lay before their eyes.  Sighing in relief, they smiled at each other.  They both pulled out their guns and waited patiently for another day to begin.

 

*    *   *

Suddenly, the ship shuddered, turning from its predestined course.  Concerned, the two men went inside and saw all of the guards lying dead on the floor.  Blood ran in rivulets from their stinking corpses.  Flies buzzed around them in the stifling heat.  The captain was tied to a chair with chains and gagged as well.

Shocked into action, the two friends hoisted their guns up into position, but they were too late.  Two men stepped in behind them and held the cold hard mussels of their guns to their neck. 

A deep, guttural voice spoke to each of them.  “Don’t move, or you’re dead.”  Then they were both knocked unconscious.

 

 

*       *        *

 

Li awoke in the ships’ hold, his arms tied to a chair by large chains.  His mouth was gagged as well.  His vision swam. His thoughts were chaotic, bouncing around in his mind as if in a strange fog. 

Finally, when he gathered his thoughts and his vision cleared, he could make out three men sitting at a steel table in front of him.  The two that flanked the man in the middle held AK47s trained at his head.  They were Malaysian, with black hair, dark eyes and tanned skin.  They had thin builds except for the man in the middle.  He was musclebound and very tall, with a patch over his eye.   

"You will join us in securing our hold on the trade routes of the world with your knowledge of them.  If you refuse, we will kill you and your family and your friends." 

                Knowing he had no choice, Li nodded.  "What have you done with James?" he demanded angrily.

                The man in the middle smiled wickedly, hatred emanating from his dark eyes.  "He is in the same position as you.  By the way, my name name is Mr. Chan."

                Swallowing hard, he responded, with hate in his eyes so strong Mr Chan even flinched, "I will join you.  But know this.  If I ever get a chance at revenge, you will suffer a fate so horrible you will regret for eternity that you ever threatened me and my family and friends!"

               Laughing a chilling laugh that sent shivers up and down Li's spine, he said, "I doubt that."

               Motioning for his guards to take him away to his quarters, Mr. Chan rose and left the room as quickly as he had come.  
              

              Chapter Two: In Service of The Enemy
            

              Mr Chan rose from where he had been sitting and walked back into the bridge of the boat where the captain was held captive.  He began punching the captain in the face until blood covered it.  Laughing a cold, mirthless laughter, he whispered in the captain's ear:

             "Your best men are in my service now.  There is now no hope for you."

              The captain glared at Mr Chan and spat on the floor in disgust.  Shrugging, Mr Chan turned and motioned for his guards to follow him into the captain's headquarters.  These were lavishly furnished with an oriental rug, multi-colored wall hangings and priceless artifacts from around the globe decorating his desk and the table in the middle of the room.  

              Mr Chan sat down at the head of the table and his guards sat on either side of him.   Then, others of the "inner circle" of The Dragon Lords entered, some men, and some women, of various ages and backgrounds.  They were all dressed in black with golden dragons decorating their arms, legs and backs of their clothes.  Veils covered their faces; only their eyes were revealed.

              Mr Chan stood, picking up a pointer stick.  Moving around the table, he pointed at a map on the wall.  

              "We are here, in the sea by Malaysia.  Our course now is set to go to India, where we will kidnap the prime minister, as well as disrupt their trading routes.  We will move around to all countries with major routes and do the same, until the world is in chaos.  Then we will move in for the kill."

               

               *                       *                    *

 

               The White Tiger was docked in Bombay, India.  They had stormed the trade headquarters, bringing down the guards as quickly as a tiger did its prey.  They had cleaned up all the bodies and burned them outside as a warning to any who would oppose them.  The stench of burned flesh filled the air, making passers-by choke.  Some vomited.  

               It was if the Dragon Lords had owned the place from the beginning (as if the guards had never existed); the blood stains had all been cleaned and their was no residue of violence save for the burning bodies.  Mr Chan sat outside watching the burning bodies, a smug smirk on his usually expressionless face.  He drank an IPA (Indian Pale Ale), slowly nursing it.  He drummed the fingers of his right hand on the ebony table.  He sat in a steel chair with a soft red cushion on the bottom and on the back.

              Mr Chan was dressed in tan khaki pants and a white collared shirt.  He wore a leather jacket which contrasted with his other formal clothes.  HIs brown loafers fit in nicely however.

              Across the table, his advisor and mistress, Katya, lounged in the same kind of chair.  She was from Russia and had defected from the KGB after having an affair with Mr Chan a few years back.  She drank a Tequila, was dressed in a black dress with silver stars on the borders.  She wore black high heels and gloves.

             "You look silly with that leather jacket on and your otherwise formal wear, no?" Katya glanced at him, raising one eyebrow.

              "Does it look like I care, or that it matters, my dear?"

              "No, but we must keep these men afraid of you.  If you dress like a b*****d son of a w***e, who will respect you?"

               "I will make them respect me!"

               Smiling, she was content to have struck a nerve.  She lapsed back into silence, pondering her next move.