Chapter 111: Lucy Shen In Trouble!

Chapter 111: Lucy Shen In Trouble!

Day 3 on Long Island...

The morning humidity hung thick over the coastal plaza as I officially said goodbye to Vicky and Mercy, watching them climb into the rear of a secure sedan to leave early for the high-stakes Long business meeting.

Victoria paused right by the door chassis, leaning forward to press a lingering, warm kiss against my lips before she stepped back with a serious look in her eyes. "Make sure you stay as safe as possible. I am not ready to be a widow, Rick. Love you and good luck."

Mercy stood just behind her, her rigid posture masking a complicated look that danced across her features, prompting me to step closer to break her professional composure. "I bet a hug for good luck would give me more reason to survive."

Mercy completely broke her own strict rule regarding public displays, stepping forward to wrap her arms around my neck, hugging me tight against her chest. I patted her back gently, feeling the tension in her shoulders melt as I whispered against her ear, "We will have lots to do when we get back home, especially now that my exercise partner has been on vacation. I will be back."

Mercy let go immediately upon hearing my words, her cheeks flushing a light pink as she looked up with a disciplined nod. "It is the weekend, so come back tonight, and I will wash your back, Master."

I smiled to myself as they walked away, knowing that particular phrasing was our private code for a very enthusiastic hummer, giving me an absolute, ironclad reason to not get a single scratch on me tonight!

Victoria offered a warm smile, clearly pleased to see me cheering up her loyal maid before the two women finally entered the vehicle and departed down the palm-lined driveway. Clicking the heavy suite door shut, I turned the deadlock securely before heading straight toward the master bathroom to wash up for the day's operations.

I grabbed a fresh change of tactical clothing along with a thick towel, pushing open the heavy bathroom door to step inside for my morning shower.

The moment the door swung open, I froze on the threshold, completely caught off guard by the sight greeting me under the bright vanity lights.

Lucy Shen stood right in front of the mirror with her glasses off, methodically brushing her teeth while completely unbothered by her lack of attire. She was wearing nothing but a smooth pair of matching blue-silk bra and panties, the seamless material lacking any lace or patterns but possessing a highly polished, almost reflective quality that caught the morning light.

Her long, dark-red hair was completely wet from an earlier rinse, pinned up tightly with a heavy plastic hair-clip so she could style it later. As her blue eyes met my gaze in the glass reflection, she noticed me walk into the room and openly stare at her curves.

Instead of showing any hint of shame, anger, or sudden shock, her eyes grew incredibly warm and welcoming, a soft smile spreading past the white toothpaste clinging to her lips. "Morning, Rick. Go ahead and shower, I don't mind. Oh?"

Lucy turned around fully to face me, leaning her lower back against the marble sink counter as she allowed me to openly admire her figure. For a thirty-one-year-old woman, she was in absolutely phenomenal shape, her breasts filling out heavy D-cups identical to Mary's layout, while her shifting hips presented a highly inviting curve.

But my wandering gaze suddenly ground to a halt as my eyes caught the jagged, pale puckering of an old bullet wound resting just above her blue-silk panty line, causing the rising heat in my chest to vanish like a lie, replaced instantly by a heavy wave of professional pity.

Utilizing my Medicine Advanced skill, my mind automatically mapped out the sheer internal devastation she must have survived at such a young age, calculating the grim historical outcomes of an abdominal penetration before modern field surgery improved.

The diagnostic tracks ran instantly through my head: either the low-caliber round had bounced catastrophically off her pelvic bone, the kinetic energy had completely torn through her uterus to make carrying a child an absolute impossibility, or a subsequent deep-tissue infection had completely ruined her ovaries.

Lucy watched my shifting expression, her voice dropping into a calm, matter-of-fact tone as she broke the silence. "It was a ricochet bullet from a 9 mm handgun. Lost most of its power and only did enough damage to ruin my uterus, but you could tell right away, right? Thankfully it was not a hollow-point or I would have died right there on the pavement."

I didn't want to offer her an empty, generic apology because those always feel entirely useless to a survivor, so I stepped closer, looking directly into her eyes. "If it means anything... I am just glad you are alive."

Lucy paused, spitting the remaining foam into the basin before thoroughly rinsing her mouth out with cold water. She turned back to me, her blue eyes shimmering with a mixture of surprise and genuine affection. "Since those days, I have heard every type of formal apology or awkward condolence known to man, even the plain, 'that sucks!' from casual acquaintances. But never in my entire life has anyone just looked at me and told me they were glad I was alive. Huh? I really liked that, Rick."

She took a step forward into my personal space, reaching down to grab my free hand and firmly placing my palm directly over the jagged scar tissue on her lower stomach. I could feel the surprisingly smooth texture of her skin beneath my fingers, the physical mark looking far more severe than it actually felt to the touch.

"When you look at me and feel my scar, that exact feeling of resilience is what everyone else sees and feels whenever they look at the violent scars covering your body, Rick." Lucy murmured softly, her thumb tracing the back of my hand.

I let my hand linger for one quiet moment before nodding in understanding, slowly pulling my fingers back as I looked at her confident expression.

"Then Lucy, from now on, I will not feel a single drop of pity or sadness for your past, just like I don't want others doing for me. My scars make me exactly who I am, so I completely understand what you meant. Thanks."

Lucy flashed a broad, cheerful grin, turning back toward the glass stall as she pointed a finger toward the steam. "Hurry up and get in there, you have a forest full of enemies to kill today, don't you?"

I stripped down to my dark boxers to avoid giving her a completely free show before stepping behind the frosted glass paneling, only tossing my  underwear over the top rack once I was fully concealed inside the shower stall.

I entirely missed the sudden flash of cold, protective anger that crossed her face as she caught a glimpse of the brutal crisscross of scars marking my bare torso through the glass. Somewhere out there in the unknown timeline, an unsuspecting bastard whose name rhymed perfectly with Scott was destined to have an incredibly miserable day because of that look.

Curiously, after I finished drying off and stepped out of the steam, my large black Metallica shirt was nowhere to be found, with Lucy casually claiming she had already dropped my dirty laundry into the service basket for the maids to handle later, guaranteeing I wouldn't see that specific shirt again for quite a while.

With the morning sun rising higher over the mountain peaks, it was finally time for Mei, Lucy, and myself to split up and head out toward our designated tactical locations.

Late last night under the cover of darkness, I had carried my heavy Barrett M107 .50 Caliber sniper case into a thick section of the treeline, shallowly burying the weapon alongside a backup smartphone so that Mei could easily track the location using her encrypted Cat and Mouse App. Meanwhile, Mei had spent the early morning hours covertly planting our rewired gas canisters directly inside the three prime sniper nests the enemy marksman had scouted out for the assassination plot.

Burying the heavy rifle ahead of time was a purely logistical choice, ensuring Mei wouldn’t have to awkwardly lug a thirty-five-pound anti-material weapon through the heavily monitored public resort roads. Furthermore, professional snipers always infiltrate their chosen nests hours before an operation to ensure they are fully set up without spooking the surrounding wildlife.

Once we reached the main lobby, Lucy boarded a standard local tourist cab, while Mei and I slipped into a completely separate vehicle to head toward the mountain trails.

About fifteen minutes later, our taxi pulled over halfway up the steep mountain pass, allowing Mei and me to quietly slip into the deep shadows of the dense pine woods.

We trekked deep into the forest until we found a small, isolated clearing hidden by thick brush, where I lowered the heavy duffel bag I had been carrying for her. Mei didn't hesitate for a second, immediately sliding out of her formal maid dress right there in the leaves while I reached into the bag to hand her a matte-black, form-fitting bodysuit designed specifically for covert field operations.

She caught me watching her smooth movements, throwing a beautiful smile my way before leaning in to press a fierce, passionate kiss against my lips as she grabbed the heavy ghillie-cloak I was holding open.

"Rick, I love you the absolute most when you are gearing me and yourself up for a real operation, Ufufu. I am so incredibly turned on right now." Mei whispered, her breathing slightly shallow against my chest.

I kept my hands steady as I buckled the heavy canvas straps of the camouflage cloak around her shoulders, offering a sharp smirk. "Just stay completely safe out there, and we can do this far more often in the future. I definitely like dressing you up for the field. Well, undressing you afterward is pretty nice too, cough."

Mei giggled softly, and the two of us quickly gathered the best assortment of damp fall leaves and pine branches from the forest floor, weaving them directly into the mesh netting of her suit to perfect her profile. With one final, lingering kiss against her lips, she melted seamlessly into the thick undergrowth, leaving me completely alone in the quiet woods as I began my slow, deliberate walk toward the designated ambush perimeter.

Further up the mountain, Lucy successfully arrived at the primary security perimeter, meeting up with her assigned technical guide right outside the reinforced gates of the underground facility.

The young man stepped forward with a confident posture, smoothing his uniform jacket as he extended a hand. "Hello Miss Shen, I am Lance Long, nice to meet you."

Lance, a handsome guy in his mid-twenties belonging to a minor side-branch of the prominent Long family, could barely contain his grin as he counted his immense good luck. He had originally spent the morning grumbling about being assigned to escort Victoria Long's Head of Computer Technology to swap out some boring server hardware, right up until he saw exactly how gorgeous she was.

His three legal wives had recently departed for the Northern Azure State where his primary family ran their local business syndicates, leaving him feeling thoroughly desperate for a hot, easy lay these past few weeks. Of course, after accidentally knocking up two different female coworkers within the local department and refusing to marry either of them, he had been completely ghosted by every self-respecting woman on the island, and rightly so.

He smoothly offered his elbow to Lucy to show off his refined, gentlemanly side, but Lucy didn't even blink, holding up her left hand to prominently display her wedding band. "Apologies, but I only allow my husband to touch me. Don't take it personally, Ufufu."

Lance didn't deter easily, leaning in slightly closer with a sly wink as they cleared the gate threshold. "I won't tell a single soul if you don't tell yours?"

"Well, Mr Lance Long, my husband literally kills people for fun, so I might just have to tell him all about it, fufu." Lucy replied with a sweet, deadly smile that caused the young guide to instantly stiffen.

As the two walked along the isolated path leading toward the concrete facility entrance, the dense bushes suddenly parted, and a man clad in a matte-green tactical military suit stepped directly onto the trail, leveling a heavy automatic pistol fitted with a thick cylinder suppressor straight at their chests.

"Hello you two, my name is A! Miss, is your name Lucy Shen?" the mercenary called out, his voice smooth and devoid of any hesitation.

Lucy instantly recognized the cold demeanor from her security briefings, identifying the man as the tactical leader of the notorious Ace-Team. She offered a quick nod, deliberately widening her eyes and putting on a terrified, trembling expression to make the mercenary named A think he was completely in control of the situation.

The leader looked to be about forty-five years old, his hands encased in soft, black-leather driving gloves as he glared at the pair with the arrogant grin of a fisherman who had just hauled in a prized catch. He wore a matching cloth military cap that looked identical to a standard baseball cap, and his rigid, calculating movements screamed ex-military training. A possessed sharp, salt-and-pepper hair cut close to the scalp, his steady posture exuding the raw bravery of a veteran combatant.

"Good girl, and you are friends, co-workers, or secret lovers with Rick Tang, right? In short, does he actually care enough about your life to see if you live or die?" A questioned, his finger resting lightly against the trigger guard.

Lucy didn't feel a single ounce of real fear in her chest right now, but his cold words immediately brought back the exact memory of what I had told her in the bathroom this morning, causing her to nod firmly at the mercenary. "Yes. He cares."

"Great! What an absolute relief, I truly hate it when a good plan falls apart at the seams. And you, buddy, who exactly are you?" A muttered, pivoting the dark barrel of the suppressed weapon to point directly between the guide's eyes.

Lance Long stared down the black void of the barrel, his hands instantly flying into the air as his knees began to shake violently, stuttering out, "L-Lance L-Long, s-sir!" in complete terror.

The mercenary leader smirked beneath his cap, keeping the iron sights locked onto the trembling guide. "And what exact relationship do you have with Rick Tang?"

"N-None, we Long and Tang don't like each-other." Lance stammered out, his voice cracking desperately as he tried to distance himself from me to save his own skin.

"Really? Shame." the mercenary replied coldly, his expression unchanging beneath his cap.

Thep Thep Thep!

The suppressed automatic pistol coughed three times in rapid, mechanical succession. Two heavy slugs punched directly through Lance’s heart, followed instantly by a third round that shattered his forehead, sending his lifeless body crashing face-first into the dirt path. A pointed the dark barrel right back at Lucy’s chest, his jaw tightening into a cruel smirk.

"Lance was the name of my dog that bit me as a kid, I really wanted to shoot him just for his name, ha-ha! Now give me your smartphone, little girl."

Lucy didn't say a word, maintaining her trembling facade as she carefully reached into her puffy winter jacket to hand over her device. A snatched it from her leather-gloved fingers, his thumb flicking across the glass screen to bypass the lock screen. A loud laugh escaped his chest the moment the display loaded, revealing the prominent, comical Cat and Mouse icon with the classic characters from the old television cartoon stamped right on it.

"Didn't think you Eurasians like Tom and Jerry, good stuff. Now let us see your phone list, damn look at that! You really have his number in there, oh and what is this?"

A's thumb scrolled further down into her private data, pulling up her recent file logs and photo gallery. His eyes widened slightly before he raised his head, giving Lucy a deeply judgmental, unsettled look as he shook his head.

"Fuck girl, are you one of these creepy stalkers?! Shit, if I left you alone, you might kill Rick instead, well I am on a time schedule and don't care about your mental issues."

A waved the suppressed weapon aggressively toward the thick treeline, stepping back to let her pass. "Now come with me and walk that way, we are going to meet your lover woman."

Lucy quietly led the way down the narrow, dirt-packed trail, her winter boots crunching against the dry leaves as they marched deeper into an isolated section of the communications base infrastructure.

A while later...

Ring Ring Ring...

Deep in the woods, I stopped in my tracks as the heavy vibration buzzed against my chest. Pulling out my primary smartphone, I frowned deeply at the glowing caller ID screen, which proudly displayed Lucy’s encrypted line. I flicked the slider open, bringing the receiver straight to my ear.

"Lucy? What is up?"

[Hello Rick Tang! My name is A, and I was paid big money to deal with you. So you can come to me and I will let this Lucy walk away free, or you don't come and I kill her and keep kidnapping people you love and care for till you are dead. If that does not work, I will buy a rocket-launcher and blow you up on a highway, so are you going to come or not?]

Fuck, my mind raced as the cold voice crackled through the speaker, irritation flaring in my chest. How the hell did they manage to get their hands on Lucy so quickly? I thought Victoria’s master-level hidden bodyguards were supposed to be securing the entire perimeter. Suppressing my anger, I kept my tone completely flat and measured, playing along with his script.

"Mr A. I am definitely coming to save her, but can you use the video-chat mode so I can see she is at least safe? Please?"

[Normally this is where I tell the guy I threaten to fuck off and shoot the hostage in the leg or something, but you are being polite and listening, so sure, here she is kid.]

The line connection crackled as the mercenary switched the interface over to a live video stream. The high-definition screen flickered to life, showing Lucy standing in a clearing, clad in her white puffy jacket, blue jeans, and thick winter boots. Her arms were wrapped awkwardly around a rusted metal flagpole, her slender wrists locked tightly behind the iron pipe with a pair of heavy steel handcuffs.

She stared straight into the camera lens with a sad, deeply embarrassed expression, looking like a helpless hostage who was thoroughly frightened by her current predicament. I knew her well enough to read between the lines, but the performance was so convincing that anyone else would think she was terrified for her life. Her eyes silently signaled for me to stay away, begging me not to walk straight into an obvious tactical trap.

I kept my face completely blank so the mercenary wouldn't notice any shift in my demeanor. "Thanks Mr A, now where do I go?"

[Fuck kid, you are a professional at telling me what I want to hear. West gate entrance of the communications base. There is a big ol cutout section of fence for you to enter and find us in an open field by a memorial, you have 30 minutes to save her or you might as well sleep in, goodbye, Mr Tang! Click... do do do...]

The line went completely dead. I immediately pulled up the custom Cat and Mouse app interface, watching the bright red tracking dot pulse steadily against the digital grid layout. The absolute idiot had been dumb enough to keep her active phone sitting right inside his tactical coat pocket. Slipping my smartphone safely into my inner pocket, I turned on my heel and darted into the thick undergrowth, completely vanishing from the main roadside.

"Lucy Shen, why did you have to put it on hard-mode?!" I muttered to myself, picking up my pace through the dense pines...

Back at the memorial field, A smirked with pure satisfaction, sliding the captured smartphone directly into his tactical pocket just in case his target decided to call back to negotiate. He reached up to his shoulder harness, pulling out his encrypted shortwave radio and depressing the rubber talk button.

"Beep! Hey C, have you planted the claymore-mine in the fence opening yet, the kid is coming?"

The radio speaker hissed violently before a manic, high-pitched voice echoed across the channel. [Beep! Copy that A! C is for Claymore, and C is for Cookie, and Ca-boom! Ha-Ha, C what did I do there, A?]

A’s expression went completely nonplussed, staring blankly at the empty tree line as he ignored his unhinged partner's ridiculous joke. He adjusted his military cap, keying the transmission button once more.

"Beep! B you are back up if the claymore-mine is a bust. Help C handle him together. Rumors have it he is a Master like you guys."

The radio crackled instantly as a deep, booming voice answered from the opposite ridge line. [Beep! A I pity the fool who said an 18 year old is a master! No he might be good, but Crazy C and I got this-shit. I will just punch him in the face a bunch and we go home. I gotta buy my old-lady some gold jewelry to make her old face look better.]

A simply shook his head at the sheer lack of discipline in his squad, sighing deeply as he switched over to the final secure frequency to check on his marksman.

"Beep! D, do you see him anywhere, or do you have a clear shot of my location?"

A soft, arrogant whisper floated back through his earpiece, accompanied by the gentle rustle of leaves. [Beep! Shush! A, you are too noisy. I must have peace and calm to be a handsome sniper. If you break the groove, then my shot wont be charming! I got this boss man.]

A lowered the radio, rubbing his temples in utter exhaustion as he stared out over the clearing. He truly just wanted a good plan to come together without all the theatrical nonsense.

"I think giving up smoking cigars was a bad omen for me!" he growled to himself, adjusting his leather gloves...

Further up the steep mountain incline, D was resting comfortably in a prone position atop a smooth rock formation that offered a perfect, unobstructed view of the entire valley below. As a highly handsome North American marksman, he possessed a deep disdain for those ugly, heavy-hitting anti-material rifles. Instead, he preferred his custom, handmade hunting rifle—an elegant, low-powered piece of machinery designed for absolute pinpoint accuracy over short distances.

His fingers adjusted the fine dials of his scope until a sudden blur of black motion caught his eye, a dark shadow moving with terrifying speed through the dense woods toward the perimeter. The target was hauling ass too fast for his crosshairs to lock on, forcing him to frantically hit his radio button.

"Beep! A. the guy is running straight into the fence opening with the claymore! He is hauling ass, and I cannot get a shot on him."

A’s voice crackled back through the channel, dripping with arrogant confidence. [Beep! Fuck, this woman means a lot to him to rush to us, nice, I love it when a plan comes together!]

Up on the ridge, D suddenly blinked, a strange, overwhelming wave of drowsiness washing over his brain as his arms grew incredibly heavy. Holding the steady weight of his custom rifle was suddenly becoming an impossible task. Just as his trembling fingers reached for his radio to report the sudden medical emergency, two catastrophic events occurred simultaneously in the valley below.

Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang, KABOOM!

A terrifying barrage of ten rapid muzzle flashes erupted from the dark tree line, followed instantly by the deafening roar of the claymore mine detonating at the fence line. A massive cloud of thick gray smoke surged into the air, completely obscuring the blast zone where their target was supposed to be torn to shreds. But before D could process the tactical victory, an icy chill surged straight up his spine.

Through his hazy, failing vision, the seemingly innocent green bush resting right beside his rock formation began to warp and shift. A slender, matte-black sleeve extended from the leaves, a razor-sharp combat knife gleaming in the dim forest light as it sliced effortlessly across his throat.

D stared up in his final moments, catching a brief, clear glimpse of a beautiful Chinese woman looking down at him with utter indifference, her breathing deep and rhythmic.

His very last thought drifted through the encroaching darkness. 'Well, if I die, at least it's a beautiful woman!' Then, absolute darkness claimed him.