Forged In Exile - Part I: A Crime Action Thriller by L.J. Armstrong

Author:L.J. Armstrong [Armstrong, L.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 34

Brandon paced the empty quadrangle of White Crane Wing Chun, anxiously gnawing at his nails, contemplating Lena’s condition in the presidential suite at the Harbor Grand Hotel.

He arrived at the school’s now heavily barricaded gates and peeked through a keyhole.

He found a wave of identical red-and-white taxis choking the laneways, their drivers angrily stabbing at their car horns, shaking closed fists and hurling abuse in Cantonese.

A group of small children suddenly whisked by, neatly dressed in school uniforms, humming joyfully to drown out the barrage of beeping horns and shouting voices.

He turned his back on the gates, groaning in complaint when he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d been incarcerated, forced to be an inmate rather than a visitor or student of White Crane Wing Chun.

Brandon spotted Elizabeth’s wooden dummy in the middle of the quadrangle and contemplated striking it to vent his frustration.

He approached it, curious, scanning the still quiet quadrangle to ensure it was free from spying eyes, eyes who could pan or mock his punches if they didn’t land correctly.

Brandon awkwardly positioned his feet and placed his hands in front of his body.

He delivered a sporadic shuffling of fists, trying to mimic the chain-punching style of Wing Chun, attempting to impersonate Elizabeth’s raw power and lightning speed. He failed miserably.

The past twenty-four hours had taken its toll, the stress and trauma showing in the visible signs of wear and tear in Brandon’s weakened punches.

He threw a careless straight right hand into the padding of the dummy, sending it rocking back and forth inside its foundations, as though it had been shaken by an earth tremor.

“That’s not the way to do it,” a voice snickered suddenly.

Brandon turned and found Elizabeth Chan’s threatening eyes charging toward him.

“You’ve gotten rid of all my students, so now, I will teach you.”

For many, Elizabeth’s words may have sounded like an invitation, but they weren’t. Far from it.

To Brandon, it was nothing more than a spiteful remark, one that filled him with intimidation.

Elizabeth spoke over him, shutting down his half-hearted reply like a drill instructor.

She began lecturing, circling him on the spot like a shark, her eyes locked on his as she spouted the proper technique.

“The Wing Chun punch is very different from other types of punches. It’s vertical, and uses one precise point to punch with.”

Elizabeth opted to circle back in the opposite direction, her eyes still bolted to his, fierce and focused.

“Our punches pierce, instead of being thrown, like a sharp knife penetrating flesh. They come from our center, from our heart, from our soul.”

She stopped in front of Brandon and stared him down. “Put up your hands.”

Brandon hesitated. He swallowed the dryness in his mouth and cautiously raised his closed fists.

“Like this?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Now, hit me.”

Brandon pushed an easygoing straight right hand Elizabeth’s way, pretending to hit her.

“I said, hit me,” she shouted. Elizabeth aggressively slapped away Brandon’s forearm and glared at him. “I’m not made of silk.”

Brandon frowned when he caught Elizabeth positioning her feet. She raised a closed guard to her face and sharpened her eyes.

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