Weighing his options for escape, Cobus took off in the direction the Mercedes had come from. Unable to turn around in the narrow alley, the big sedan had to chase him in reverse, wobbling and scraping against parked cars on both sides.

Cobus sprinted toward the historic center of Macau, a UNESCO heritage site clustered with Portuguese colonial architecture. One of the first things he had done when he arrived in Macau was to plan out numerous escape-and-evasion contingency routes in case he ever found himself in the crosshairs of either law enforcement or the gang he was betraying. The Portuguese colonial section had been developed three centuries before the advent of the automobile. Its tight walkways and stone staircases would buy him time, and time on the run equaled distance from the threat. But first, he had to make it down three blocks of the main road, where he would be completely exposed before entering the Old Quarter.

Cobus gasped for air as the Mercedes screeched onto the main road behind him and turned so it was once again facing forward. It closed in quickly. Guns came out the windows, and shots rang out. Bright sparks chipped the stone all around Cobus as he turned a corner onto a walking street and bolted up a staircase.

The Mercedes stopped. Wan and three other triads got out and gave chase through the Old Quarter.

Cobus sprinted for his life through the crowded maze of the old city, his boots pounding over the uneven cobblestones. He raced up snaking staircases and down narrow walkways between buildings crowded onto the hillside at every possible angle.

Caroming around a tight corner, he emerged into a brightly lit courtyard, where he had to swim through a shoal of tourists gathered outside the large yellow St. Dominic’s Church. Across the square, Cobus spotted Wan’s men hemming him in, forcing him to veer from his planned escape route.

As he headed farther north, Cobus found himself in unfamiliar territory—that is, assuming he was still even going north, which was impossible to divine in this labyrinth. Where he was going now didn’t matter. All that mattered was putting distance between himself and the pack of predators racing through the jungle in search of him.

Cobus emerged from the crush of buildings onto a large avenue. For a moment, he considered carjacking a passing driver. Then, improbably, across the avenue he spotted a forest stretched out before him—Mong Ha Park.

Darting across the street, Cobus looked back as Wan and the three other triads emerged from a narrow alleyway. A second later, he disappeared into the wooded park.