Two police cars arrived first, followed by a dark SUV.
Red and blue lights flashed across the walls at the mouth of the alley.
Nate tucked the kitchen knife behind his waist and walked over to a relatively clear patch of ground in front of the ruined restaurant.
The patrol cars shut off their engines, and four officers stepped out.
The man leading them was tall and broad, with a gut that strained against his uniform.
The insignia on his shoulder identified him as a sergeant.
He swept an unfriendly gaze across the scene, his brow immediately tightening into a deep frown.
“Who called it in?”
“I did.”
Lily stepped forward.
The heavyset sergeant barely acknowledged her.
His eyes lingered on Nate’s face for two seconds before his mouth curled downward.
Nate knew that look all too well.
Impatience.
Contempt.
And the unmistakable irritation of someone thinking, Here we go again.
“ID.”
The sergeant held out his hand.
It was an order, not a request.
Nate took out his wallet, pulled out his ID, and handed it over.
The officer held it beneath the patrol car’s headlights, then looked back at Nate.
“Nate Lin… immigrant?”
“Yes.”
The sergeant handed the card to a younger officer beside him and jerked his chin toward the patrol car.
“Run him. See if he’s got a record.”
The younger officer returned to the car and began working at the computer.
“What happened in there?”
The sergeant nodded toward the wreckage.
“Two men drove a car through the restaurant and tried to kill me,” Nate said, keeping it concise.
“They had explosives on them. They blew themselves up.”
The sergeant stared at him for two seconds.
Then he laughed.
“Two men drove a car through the building,” he repeated.
“Then they blew themselves up. And somehow you’re fine?”
“I killed them first.”
The sergeant laughed again, short and harsh.
Standing behind Nate, Lily couldn’t keep quiet.
“Officer, he’s the victim.”
“Did I ask you?”
The sergeant snapped his head toward her, his stare sharp enough to make her hesitate.
“And who are you?”
“The owner’s daughter.”
Lily steadied herself under his glare.
“Someone drove a car through our restaurant. He nearly got killed. Instead of investigating the people who attacked him, you’re standing here questioning him like he’s the criminal.”
“Ma’am, I suggest you stop talking.”
The sergeant cut her off, every word hard and deliberate.
“Otherwise, I can put you in the back of a patrol car for obstructing an investigation.”
Lily’s face flushed red.
Her lips parted as she prepared to let him have it, but Nate reached out and stopped her.
“Lily, it’s fine.”
He turned back toward the sergeant.
“Do you need a statement?”
“A statement? Of course I do.”
The sergeant pulled a notepad from his pocket and slowly opened it.
“You say you’re the victim, but looking at this scene, it seems more like you took out both men yourself.”
“I am the victim. And yes, I killed both of them.”
“What are you supposed to be, some kind of action hero?”
Nate didn’t answer.
He simply met the sergeant’s stare.
The man watched him for a full five seconds before exchanging a glance with one of the other officers.
The younger officer leaned out of the patrol car.
“Sergeant, nothing on him. No record. ID checks out.”
“Clean record doesn’t mean he’s clean.”
The sergeant looked away and scribbled something in his notebook.
The night breeze carried the smells of scorched debris and blood through the alley.
The sergeant waved a hand in front of his nose, his disgust becoming even more obvious.
“I’ll ask you again.”
His voice dropped, taking on a threatening edge.
“You’re a cook?”
“Yes.”
“And a cook killed two professional hitmen?”
“You’ve asked me that several times already, Officer.”
Nate’s voice remained calm.
The sergeant suddenly stepped forward until he was almost chest to chest with him.
He stood nearly half a head taller than Nate and stared down at him with open suspicion and contempt.
“Listen carefully.”
His voice was low and threatening.
“I know how people like you operate. Gangs, turf wars, drug deals. Then when something goes wrong, suddenly you’re the innocent victim. I’ve seen enough crap around this neighborhood to know better. You think you’re going to fool me?”
Nate said nothing.
He just looked at him.
“When my guys finish searching this place, if they find anything they don’t like…”
The sergeant jabbed a finger against Nate’s chest.
“I’ll make sure immigration takes a very close look at you. You can forget about that green card.”
A faint smile appeared on Nate’s face.
He tilted his head.
“Really? You make that sound like a reward.”
This place could keep anyone who actually wanted to stay.
The sergeant froze for a moment.
Nate wasn’t particularly angry, but Lily had heard enough.
“That’s discrimination! I’m filing a complaint against you!”
The sergeant recovered and turned toward her, a nasty smile tugging at his mouth.
“Feel free, ma’am.”
Then he stepped back and looked Nate over from head to toe.
His gaze stopped on the bulge beneath the back of Nate’s jacket.
“What are you hiding under there?”
“A kitchen knife. I used it to defend myself.”
“Take it out.”
The sergeant’s hand was already resting on his holster.
The officers behind him immediately tensed and drew their pistols, aiming at Nate.
The atmosphere changed in an instant.
Nate’s expression tightened.
Keeping his eyes on the armed officers, he slowly lifted his jacket, drew the kitchen knife, turned the blade downward, and extended it handle-first.
The sergeant had already drawn his pistol.
He edged forward one step at a time, gun raised in one hand while his other reached for the knife.
The alley went completely silent.
Every officer watched them closely.
The sergeant took another step.
His foot caught on a small stone.
Whether it was deliberate or not, his body lurched.
The officers behind him reacted instinctively to the sudden movement.
Then a gun went off.
Lily flinched at the blast.
A 9mm round spun toward Nate.
Already on edge, Nate reacted instantly.
The kitchen knife snapped around in his hand and came up in front of him.
CLANG!
He swatted the bullet aside as if returning a ping-pong ball.
The round slammed into the door of a patrol car, punching a hole through the metal.
“You…”
The sergeant barely managed the word before Nate’s knife came down.
The pistol split in two.
Nate seized the sergeant and dragged him backward, using the man’s bulky body as a shield between himself, Lily, and the remaining officers.
Behind Nate, Lily stared at his back with wide eyes.
For a moment, she looked as though she were seeing him for the first time.
Nate stood behind the sergeant with the kitchen knife pressed against his throat.
The man’s body odor mixed with heavy cologne made Nate wrinkle his nose.
The other officers had been caught completely off guard.
They stood frozen with their guns trained in his direction, unsure what to do.
Cold sweat ran down the sergeant’s forehead.
He started to speak.
Nate pressed the knife a little harder against his neck.
The man immediately shut his mouth.
The other officers began shouting over one another.
“Sir, calm down!”
“Easy!”
“It was an accidental discharge!”
“Put the weapon down!”
“Calm down!”
“Put it down!”
Nate had seen plenty of videos like this in his previous life.
They almost always ended the same way.
Someone got riddled with bullets.
His eyes shifted as he searched for a way out.
Three officers remained in front of him.
If he killed the sergeant, he could throw the kitchen knife and probably take down one more.
That still left two.
Both had guns.
And even if Nate somehow survived, there was no way he could guarantee Lily’s safety.
The officers kept shouting while Nate used the sergeant as cover.
Neither side moved.
Then a low voice came from the mouth of the alley.
It wasn’t loud, yet somehow it carried clearly through the chaos.
“Morales.”
Everyone turned.
A man in a dark gray jacket stepped out of the shadows, tapping the pavement with a cane.
His hair was cropped short, his jawline sharp.
One hand rested in his pocket while the other guided the cane before him.
His pace was unhurried.
Every step was steady.
Caine.
The blind man.
One of the deadliest hitmen in the world.
The moment the sergeant saw him, his expression changed.
He looked like a kid who had just been caught doing something he absolutely wasn’t supposed to be doing.
“Tell them to lower their guns,” Caine said.
“Lower them! Lower them!” Morales immediately shouted.
The officers lowered their weapons.
Nate glanced at Caine, then lowered his knife as well.
“Mr. Caine.”
Morales hurried forward, apparently forgetting all about Nate for the moment.
His tone had become considerably more polite.
“What are you doing here?”
“I live nearby.”
Caine walked between them and stopped.
“I was asked to keep an eye on this case.”
“Asked by who?” Morales frowned.
“Who exactly sent you?”
Caine didn’t answer.
He reached into the inside of his jacket, pulled out a black credential case, flipped it open, and held it in front of Morales for two seconds.
The movement was quick.
From where Nate stood, all he caught was the blur of something gold.
Morales saw it clearly.
His expression shifted several times before he finally nodded, looking as though he’d swallowed something unpleasant.
“Understood.”
Most of his earlier arrogance had vanished.
“Then what about him?”
“Leave him to me.”
Caine closed the credential case and slipped it away.
“Pack it up.”
Morales looked down at the half of his pistol still in his hand.
His mouth opened.
Then closed again.
He glanced at Nate, then at Caine, and finally let out an irritated snort.
“Pack it up!”
The other officers clearly hadn’t expected that.
“I said we’re done here!”
Morales raised his voice, sounding equal parts angry and humiliated.
The younger officer froze, then tucked an evidence bag under his arm and followed the others toward the patrol cars.
Morales walked several steps before stopping.
He looked back at Nate.
“Lucky you.”
Then he climbed into the car and slammed the door.
The two patrol cars started one after another.
Their flashing red and blue lights gradually disappeared into the distance, leaving the alley quiet again.
Nate stood there with the kitchen knife an officer had returned to him and watched the cars disappear.
Then he looked at Caine.
“Was that guy an idiot or what? He obviously couldn’t do anything to you, but he still had to get one last word in.”
Caine gave a quiet snort.
“He is.”
He turned toward Nate and removed his sunglasses.
Gray-blue eyes were revealed beneath them.
They were cloudy and unfocused, yet somehow his attention landed directly on Nate.
A faint smile touched Caine’s lips.
“Looks like I’m not getting my fried rice tomorrow.”
Nate took a deep breath, finally allowing some of the tension from his confrontation with Morales to leave his body.
“Mr. Caine, thank you.”
“Don’t thank me.”
Caine put his sunglasses back on.
His tone was as casual as if they were discussing the weather.
“I happened to be nearby. I happen to know Morales. And I also happen to dislike him.”
Nate didn’t comment.
Instead, he asked, “This kind of thing is going to keep happening, isn’t it?”
Caine fell silent for a moment.
He didn’t ask whether Nate meant the hitmen or the police.
When he answered, his voice had grown quieter.
“Yes.”
“Who were those men?”
“Some things are safer not knowing.”
“I want to know why they’re trying to kill me.”
Caine was silent again.
Then he shook his head and pulled an elegant card from inside his jacket.
He handed it to Nate.
Several overlapping blades were printed on one side.
Nate turned it over.
An address was printed on the back.
“Go there. The people inside can give you the answers.”
Caine tilted his head slightly, as though listening.
Another set of sirens sounded in the distance.
Probably the fire department or the medical examiner this time.
“More people will be here soon, but no one’s going to give you trouble,” Caine said.
“When they question you, tell them what happened. Don’t lie, but you don’t need to tell them everything either. Understand?”
Nate nodded.
Then he remembered who he was talking to.
“Got it.”
Caine turned away.
His cane tapped steadily against the pavement as he headed toward the mouth of the alley.
“Mr. Caine, are you my father?”
Caine froze.
His foot stopped midstep, and his cane actually slipped against the pavement.
He turned around.
“What could possibly make you think that?”
“Well… then why are you helping me? Don’t tell me this is really all because you like my fried rice.”
“Why not? It really is good.”
“That still feels pretty unlikely.”
Nate pursed his lips.
Caine walked a few more steps before stopping again.
He sighed and turned back with a resigned expression.
“Fine. I’m your father’s younger brother.”
Nate’s expression changed.
He stood there processing the words for several seconds before finally speaking.
“Then can you help me deal with all this… Uncle?”
“Isn’t that what I’m doing?”
Caine turned away again.
“And I’m retired.”
With that, he continued down the alley and disappeared into the shadows, just as abruptly as he had appeared.
Nate remained beside the ruins, staring after him for a long moment.
Then he chuckled under his breath.
“Now that’s a connection I can’t afford to lose.”