"And does she know that she would not exist were it not for me and what I did to save your life?"

"You beat me with your sword. You refused to let me fight. I have not changed my mind about such things."

"You would be dead. And for what? To please the Americans?"

"Let me go. Because if you don't--"

"What will you do to me that they haven't already done? Strip me of my rank, my duty, everything I worked so hard for? Years spent in Fengshan at the academy? All for nothing!"

"Captain, I'm sorry. I need to go."

"So do I," said Fang. "So do I."

With that, he released the man, who hurriedly crossed the street before the light changed.

Sze Ma reached the opposite corner and stole a worried look at Fang, then he started toward the car dealership.

With a start, Fang was struck by what he was supposed to be doing. His gaze probed the street. He checked his watch and cursed.

Even as he reached for his cell phone, it began to ring: Yeh Chun-chang was calling.

"I saw him," said Yeh. "He crossed the street just like you said he would. He was wearing the jacket. I saw you talking with that other man. I could have done the job, but you told me not to go until you called."

"I'll call you back."

Fang broke into a sprint, reached the corner, turned left, then raced down the sidewalk, past rows of buildings, looking for a man wearing a white athletic jacket with red sleeves. The jacket bore the 2008 Olympic Games logo, along with a dragon wrapping around its side.

The jacket belonged to Kao Ku-ching, the man who was supposed to die, the man who was now gone.

Fang reached the corner, shot looks both ways up the alleys, then glanced forward to an old apartment building where Kao lived in a modest one-bedroom on the third floor.

Through an open window Fang saw a television flick on, and he knew Kao had made it home safely. Fang called Yeh and said, "We'll need to wait until tomorrow."

"I will need to be paid for today."

Fang sighed in disgust and said, "Yes. Same time tomorrow."

"Very well. You should pay attention because this can become very expensive for you."

"I will. And you will receive your final payment only after the job is done. Remember that."

That night, Fang lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of his ramshackle apartment.

He was a soldier who had been born to fight. He would continue to fight, no matter what they said. When they had removed him from the army, they had thought he had no spirit, that he had no will to fight.

He tensed over the thought, then relaxed, turned his head toward his nightstand upon which his sword cane leaned, its tiger patterns coming alive in the darkness.