Years spent apologizing to his forefathers had amounted to nothing. Now he railed against even them, deemed them as victims of the American poison, and only he, Fang Zhi, could set the family on a new and more honorable course.

The next afternoon, Fang stood once more on the same street corner, smoking his cigarette and reading his newspaper. A front had moved in, and in a few moments the black clouds would finally empty themselves. The weather provided a perfect excuse for Fang to wear his rain jacket and hood, which would, of course, help conceal his identity.

Across the street was the gray sedan.

Any moment now, Kao would reach the corner and enter the crosswalk as he had every weekday for the past month.

Without exception.

Fang shifted his weight from one leg to the other, backhanded the sweat from his brow, and breathed in the warm, humid air. He shivered in anticipation.

Then he took a last drag of cigarette, ditched it in the road, and glanced across the intersection as it began to rain.

Kao was right there, only today he was not wearing the Olympic jacket, just a blue sweatshirt.

Fang had told Yeh Chun-chang back in the sedan to take care of the job as soon as he saw Kao, but Yeh was looking for that Olympic jacket!

Where was Fang's cell phone? He fumbled in his pocket, dialed the number.

Across the way, Yeh lifted his phone to his ear.

"Yeh, it is me," Fang cried. "He's in a blue sweatshirt! "Go now."

At the intersection, Kao was holding a backpack over his head and waiting for the light to change. The rain grew heavier.

Yeh revved the sedan's engine.

Fang remembered the many hours he had spent with Kao. They had actually become friends. He had even consoled Fang when the final scores had been revealed.

Fang's heart began to race.

And for a few seconds, Fang thought of running to the corner and calling it all off. But he couldn't. He might have doubts, but he'd already made the decision and was beyond the point of return.

The light turned green.

Kao, along with a half dozen other pedestrians, rushed into the crosswalk, a few wrestling with their umbrellas.

A terrific thunderclap echoed off the buildings.

Yeh, still parked at the corner, held back until the last possible second, then he roared into the street, coming directly at the pedestrians, who swung their heads.

Fang flinched as screams rose from the street.

And then, strangely enough, the whole event unfolded before his eyes as though in slow motion.

Two women dove out of the sedan's path.

One man was struck in the leg and went spinning to the asphalt, his umbrella carried off by the wind.

Yeh rolled the wheel and screeched toward Kao, who looked up and had no time to move.