Marissa and Tristan realized they were lost. They arrived at a courtyard they had not yet seen. A small, shuttered house stood at its center. Above was the first patch of sky they’d seen since they’d entered the Walled City.

Skirting the house, they entered another tunnel. From the shouts and catcalls they could tell that the thugs were gaining on them. The Chinese youths had an unfair advantage: they knew the place.

Rounding a corner, Marissa and Tristan came across another spate of alcoves. One of the rooms was a restaurant with a large cauldron of boiling crab-claw soup. A half dozen simple wooden tables surrounded the pot. A few old men were playing Mah-Jongg at one of them.

Skidding to a stop, Tristan pulled Marissa into the tiny restaurant. Several of the tables overturned. Mah-Jongg tiles scattered on the rough wooden floor.

The pursuers were on them in a flash, as out of breath as Marissa and Tristan. Several were brandishing knives. Their faces were tight with determination.

Pushing Marissa into a corner behind him, Tristan assumed a kung fu stance, expecting one of the young Chinese to make a lunge at him.

Instead everyone froze again, including the elderly patrons, who’d moved against a far wall, as far from the frenzy as possible. The Chinese youths seemed to respect, perhaps even fear, Tristan’s threatening posture. The muscled fellow stepped forward.

Tristan eyed him warily. “You’re not being very friendly,” he said, trying to make light of the situation. “If you tell us how, we’ll be happy to leave. Just say the word.”

“For a little squeeze we’ll show you out,” the youth said.

“Squeeze?” Tristan questioned.

“Money,” the youth said. “The rest of your money. And your watches as well.”

“Then you will let us go?” Tristan asked. “You’ll show us out of here?”

“Yes,” the Chinese youth said. “We will accept that your debt has been paid.”

The youths with the knives lowered their weapons slightly, as if to display their sincerity.

Tristan reached for his wallet again. Pulling it out, he withdrew what money he had in it and put it on the nearest table. He then pulled off his watch and put that on top of the bills.

“And the woman’s,” the muscular man said.

“That’s not very chivalrous,” Tristan said.

The man sneered. “On the table,” he said.

“Sorry, luv,” Tristan said. He stuck out his hand. Marissa slipped off the watch that Robert had given her and handed it to Tristan. He added it to the small pile on the table.

“There you go, mate,” Tristan said. “Now let’s have you live up to your side of the bargain.”

The man came forward and picked up the money and the watches. He hastily divided the money among the others. The watches he pocketed.