The small fishing vessel tied up at the dock was tended by a skeleton crew of the 14K triads, who tossed bags of pangolin scales and elephant skin over the railing to the porters standing by. The 14K triad had been in a death spiral since Macau was cleaned up, and were now scraping by on the fringes of the city they once ruled with an iron fist. What little influence they had clung to was now being stripped away by the new ultraviolent breed of Sun Yee On triads led by Wan Koi.

By the time the 14K triads saw the Sun Yee On men flooding out of their vehicles, it was too late. The attack was swift and chaotic, like Viking berserkers hitting the shores of an unsuspecting village.

The 14K triads scrambled to defend themselves with fists and pocketknives as their brick-wielding assailants overwhelmed them with brute force, windmilling the masonry bound to their fists and smashing through the 14K defenses.

Cobus was right behind the first wave. He saw teeth and blood bursting from the rival gang members. He shouldered through the melee, driving an elbow into the face of a worker who tried to intercept him, then a left fist into the gut of another, who doubled over in agony.

He then rushed up the stairs to the bridge. He knew that the bridge would house the communications, and if the 14K triads got on the radio, reinforcements would be here soon, and bodies on both sides would pile high.

Opening the door, Cobus walked into the blunt end of a fire extinguisher. He staggered back, seeing spots, his cracked nose seeping blood. He looked up to see the captain staring at him, fear in his eyes. The captain had delivered his best shot, yet hadn’t been able to fell the reaper now standing before him.

Cobus felt the primal rage grip him once again. Operating on pure animal instinct, he lunged forward, swinging his brick at the captain. The captain tried to defend himself, but it was no use. Cobus could hear bones cracking as he lit into his prey.

Wan arrived at the bridge moments later. Cobus stood, his taped fist bloody as he heaved with adrenaline. Beneath him cowered the captain, badly savaged but alive.

Wan gripped his meat cleaver and approached the captain.

“Give me his arm.”

Two other Sun Yee On soldiers lifted the captain off the floor and bent him over a table with his arm extended.

Cobus watched, literally seeing red as blood streamed down from a deep gash above his eye. Sensing the savage direction things were headed, Cobus turned to go.

Wan blocked his path, pressing the flat tip of his cleaver into Cobus’s chest. “Stay.”

“I did what you asked,” Cobus grunted through the pain as he glared at Wan in a manner that suggested any objection might elicit violence.