Xu felt no sorrow for himself, only for his dear mother and father, whom he had failed. They would not see their lost children, and that was the greatest tragedy.

As the men rifled through his belongings, Xu thought of raising his fist in one last act of defiance, but the room had already grown dark around the edges, and there was only the strength for one final breath.

As Huang and Pan had stood facing each other on the balcony, Huang had realized that Pan was not going to leave and had every intention of shooting him.

So Huang had lashed out, seizing Pan's wrist to shift away the gun. Pan had fought against Huang's grip with one hand while clubbing Huang in the head with his flashlight.

Even as the blow seemed to reverberate through Huang's head, the gun had gone off, the round tearing through Huang's shoulder.

Pan gasped, muttered his disbelief that he had fired, and the gun slipped from his grip. Huang kicked the weapon away and shoved Pan against the railing with so much force that the warped and rotting wood cracked and gave way.

Pan flailed his arms and screamed as he fell back into the chutes of rain, plunging five stories to splash hard to his death.

Huang's wife was crying and rushed up beside him. Down in the courtyard, one of Fang's guards ran up to Pan's body and checked for a pulse. Then he gazed up at Huang and screamed, "I heard the shot! What's going on here?"

Clutching his bleeding shoulder, Huang was about to answer when a click sounded from below, and the guard's head snapped back before he toppled.

Huang gasped as a fresh volley of automatic weapons fire rattled loudly through the courtyard.

Buddha sat in the idling SUV, chomping on a chocolate bar and staring at the streaming video of the castle being fed to his laptop. Boy Scout was doing likewise and issuing his banal and obvious commentary on the action.

That first shot had been barely audible from their range, but Buddha had pricked up his ears and now leaned out the window, grimacing over a lot more gunfire.

"You were right," came Boy Scout's voice from the phone on the seat.

"About the noise, yes," Buddha answered. "I was hoping I would not be."

"We should get in closer. The cowboys will need us soon."

"We stay here."

"That's a mistake, old man."

"Shut up. Do what I say." Buddha wiped his hands on his jeans and stared at Boy Scout's SUV, just ahead.

If the kid acted rashly, he would not live to regret it.

Beasley had shot the guard who'd run into the courtyard, then he'd paused and frowned. There were two bodies lying there. He glanced up, saw an old couple staring down at him from the fifth-floor balcony, the railing busted away.