This construction site is quite large, likely a facility similar to a school or small sports stadium. The ancillary buildings are nearly complete, though the scaffolding remains. A large open space in the center is piled high with construction materials and various construction vehicles.
"Run!"
Reacher shouted, and the five of them sprinted to the steel fence gate outside the construction site. Reacher, eyeing the thumb-thick chain on the gate, crouched in place. Dixon stepped on his arm and easily flipped over.
Jack followed suit, sending Negley over. Turning back, he saw O'Donnell, who was even shorter than Negley, hopping around twice but unable to reach the gate. He was about to go over to help when Reacher took two steps forward, grabbing the man by the belt like an adult grabbing a child, and practically throwing him through the steel fence gate.
"Need some help?" Seeing the large man's malicious glance, Jack leaped from his seat, grasping the top of the gate with one hand. Using only the strength of his single arm, he launched himself into the air.
As he climbed over the gate, he used his other hand to tuck the hem of his windbreaker underfoot to avoid getting caught. Then, with a deft somersault, he executed the full set of moves in a classic Marvel hero-style landing.
"Wow, Chinese Kung Fu!" O'Donnell, fresh off the ground and patting his windbreaker, exclaimed in amazement at the sight.
Reacher, with agility unbelievable for his size, quickly flipped over. "Looks like they're just as we thought. Only one of the three people who got out of the car was armed."
It was a fist-to-fist duel. Jack scooped up a piece of rebar that had been thrown from the ground with his toes, grasped it, and handed it to Negley.
"Thank you," the black woman said, taking the rebar and swinging it twice, making a humming sound as the air ripped apart.
Hiding behind an excavator, the group watched as seven men with malicious intent scaled a gate one by one. They glanced around, each one drawing a switchblade.
Jack frowned. These guys looked a bit underdog. While they looked menacing, they were just the kind of street-savages, not the terrorists he'd imagined.
He pulled out an Osprey silencer, loaded his Glock 20, and dodged from behind the excavator. As the thugs watched in horror, he shot their leader, Scarface, squarely in the right shoulder.
Scarface screamed, dropping his silenced pistol. He knelt on one knee, clutching his bleeding shoulder.
"Okay, the fight's fair from now on," Jack chuckled, putting away his pistol. Behind him, Reacher and the others emerged from behind the excavator and flanked him.
"Tell me who sent you here, and you'll have a chance to go to jail and reflect on your actions." A murderous look flashed across Reacher's face.
The remaining six thugs were intimidated by the imposing presence of the five on the other side. Seeing Jack sheath his pistol, their courage seemed to return. No one said a word, but instead, they gripped their daggers tightly and leaned forward slightly, ready to strike.
There were still six of them, while the other side only had five, two of them women. Although the larger man looked like a skilled fighter, he still had a fight to his name.
The night was as dark as ink, and under the dim light of distant streetlights, the two groups engaged in silent combat.
Beating an ordinary strongman was less of a challenge for Jack these days than preparing a hearty dish. He dodged a thrust slightly and reached out to grab the man's wrist.
Feeling a sharp pain as if being clamped by a hydraulic clamp, the thug looked up in horror at the strange-looking man with a square jaw and mustache.
Despite the chaotic situation, Jack didn't want to appear overly dramatic. He wrenched the dagger from the man's hand and threw him to the ground with a back throw. His palm sliced through the carotid sinus, instantly subduing him.
By the time he looked up at the others, Reacher had already shattered one thug's nose with a headbutt, while Negley was wielding a rebar, sending her opponent reeling.
O'Donnell was fighting dirty, knuckledusters on his right hand and a switchblade in his left, striking a boxing stance.
Short but incredibly agile, he focused his blows on his opponent's ribs. His right knuckledusters launched a flurry of punches, forcibly breaking open his opponent's defensive arm. The switchblade hidden in his left hand unleashed its blade, and with a few swift stabs, it drew blood.
Dixon was probably the least skilled of the group, but her skills were above average. Her fighting was methodical, though she struggled with the dagger with her bare hands. It wasn't until Negley finished off her opponent and threw the rebar away that she gained the upper hand.
With a teeth-grinding snap, Reacher broke his opponent's arm. Looking up, he saw Jack pull out his Glock 20 again. Startled, he turned to look in his direction. Scarface, who
had been knocked to the ground by Jack in the first place, had already picked up the pistol with his left hand and pointed it with hatred at Dixon, who was still struggling.
Without a second thought, he lunged, knocking the thug in front of Dixon away and bringing her down, shielding her beneath him.
A soft crack echoed, and Scarface's nose bore a bloody hole; the bullet had penetrated his brain stem, instantly ending his life.
Almost simultaneously, a switchblade flew forward and stabbed him in the chest, clearly not the only one keeping a close eye on the situation.
"Is everyone okay?" Reacher pulled Dixon to her feet. Dixon's eyes flickered, a strange expression on his face, as if they hadn't just been a physical fight, but something else entirely.
"It was just a small scene, not even as loud as the noise my wife made in the kitchen." O'Donnell stepped forward, yanked the switchblade from Scarface's chest, and wiped it on his clothes.
"What's wrong with you? Where's that smug playboy? Now all you talk about is your kids or your wife."
Reacher noticed a small slash on Dixon's trembling chest, inflicted by a dagger. He instinctively wanted to strike, but realized it wasn't right and quickly pulled back.
"I've been tamed," O'Donnell said helplessly, throwing up his hands and flicking his wrist to put away his brass knuckles.
By then, Jack had picked up the rebar from the ground, scurried over to the man Reacher had knocked away, planted his foot on his chest, and stabbed him hard.
The sharp end of the rebar grazed the man's temple and dug into the ground, shocking him nearly to death.
"Who sent you?" Jack pulled out the rebar and slowly aimed it at his right eye.
"I don't know. It was that guy. He hired us. We're locals!" The thug was so frightened he couldn't move, his eyes wide open as he pointed in Scarface's direction.
"He gave us each 20,000 yuan and said if he killed you all, he'd give us another 30,000 yuan afterwards. Please don't kill me. I have children to support!"
(End of Chapter)