He also wasn’t a fool, which led Vince to wonder what he was trying to prove by acting in such an insubordinate manner.
“We warned you what would happen to troublemakers,” she reminded, her infuriated glance cast upward to meet the impassive stare of the solidly built, six-foot-four inch Japanese agent. “And now we’ll have to make an example of your beloved prime minister.”
Tiger glanced down at Monica as she added scornfully, “You Japanese might have thought that you could get away with raping my ancestors’ homeland yet another time in this century, but now the tables have turned. You are nothing but a barbaric, despicable dog, and it will be a pleasure watching your expression as we cut your prime minister’s throat.”
From his vantage point on the balcony, Vince could see that Tiger looked ready to explode. The senior agent’s muscular body was ramrod rigid, his reddened face flushed with anger, as he fought back the suicidal urge to retaliate.
Before he could do so, Dennis Liu and his daughter came storming into the room. The head terrorist appeared furious. His arrival prompted a whispered comment by both of Vince’s table mates “And now the shit’s really going to hit the fan,” observed Samuel Morrison.
“It’s not going to be pretty, lads,” Robert Hartwell added.
Vince’s main concern remained centered on the safety of the American President. The chief executive was still seated at the main table along with his eight colleagues. The Japanese prime minister was positioned directly across from him, and Vince prayed that the terrorists wouldn’t lose control and spray the whole table with bullets.
“Now what?” Liu demanded in Mandarin as he approached the table where Monica was in the midst of her standoff.
“This Japanese dog had the nerve to insult me,” said the actress, also in Mandarin. “And I was just explaining the nature of the penalty for this offense.”
A look of disgust painted Liu’s face as he examined the tall security agent who faced Monica. “Your name and position, comrade?” he questioned, resorting to English.
“Yushio Tanaka, and I’m the special agent in charge of the prime minister of Japan’s security detail.”
This matter-of-fact response was delivered without the least hint of fear, prompting Liu to further test the depth of this man’s commitment.
“Special Agent in Charge Ta naka, how would you like a chance to substitute your life for that of your prime minister?”
“I would do so without a moment’s hesitation,” Tiger retorted.
Liu continued to size up his brawny opponent, and finally decided upon the best way to use him as an example to the others. “Your loyalty is most admirable, Special Agent. To test the degree of your convictions, I’ll not only allow you to take your prime minister’s place on the executioner’s block, but I’ll also give you a chance to earn your freedom. What I propose is a hand-to-hand fight to the death, with no quarter to be spared the loser.”
This offer caused a wide grin to turn the corners of the Japanese agent’s mouth, and he readily bowed in acceptance of these terms. A muted murmur filled the room. Included in this concerned group was Kristin Liu, who watched as her father stripped off his radio and handed it to Monica.
“Father, have you gone insane? The risks in such a fight surely outweigh any gains that you might win.”
“What risks are you talking about, daughter? I’ll snap this Japanese dog’s neck like it was an immature bamboo stalk.”
“But, Father, the Red Star satellite is due to pass overhead shortly.
Have you forgotten already about the rest of our mission?”
Dennis Liu had heard enough. He looked sternly at Kristin, while removing a 9mm Clock from its holster at the small of his back. He handed it to her, saying, “I want you to stand behind the Japanese prime minister, with that pistol aimed at the back of his skull. If any of the other prisoners make the slightest threatening move, you’re to shoot him without question. Do you understand?”
Kristin meekly nodded. Trying her best to ignore Monica’s gloating sneer, she somewhat reluctantly walked over to the table holding the nine heads of state, and took up a position behind the Japanese prime minister.
This time the stare that met hers belonged to the President of the United States. Kristin was surprised that his expression displayed more compassionate understanding than either fear or anger.
Kristin was afraid to look him full in the face, and she diverted her line of sight back to that portion of the room where her father was preparing to fight. The Japanese agents were in the process of moving the table and chairs out of the way, creating an open space the size of a boxing ring. It was here that her father beckoned to his opponent to join him.
Vince Kellogg was also watching this scene from the opposite balcony.
There was a certain absurdity to the mere thought of sitting here on the Queen, in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, watching two men about to fight to the death, in front of an audience that included the nine most powerful men in all the world.
Vince had previously seen Dennis Liu in action in the martial-arts films that he had watched with his son. Of course, these had been carefully staged events, and Vince wondered how the actor would handle himself in this realistic situation.
While Tiger took off his tuxedo jacket and rolled up his sleeves, Liu did a few stretching exercises in the center of the improvised ring. A series of large swells picked this inopportune moment to arrive, and the ocean liner pitched from side to side in a jarring, shuddering motion.
Vince didn’t know how the combatants could keep on their feet, let alone fight under these conditions. Yet they stubbornly persisted, both men taking up a martial-arts stance in the ring’s center.
Tiger was a good four inches taller than Liu, and had a much longer reach. As he swung his muscular arms overhead to loosen up, Liu began a rhythmic sequence of tai chi movements. Ignoring another set of rolling swells, the two combatants faced each other and bowed.
Once more they took up martial-arts stances, and the fight commenced as they began slowly circling. Liu’s posture appeared to transfer itself into more of a classic Western form, as he lifted his clenched fists to protect his face. Tiger, in contrast, kept his hands open, constantly pawing the air kung fu style. Each of them attempted several minor punches before Tiger initiated the first real combination of blows.
They were delivered by both hand and foot. Liu deflected them with an efficient parry, moving in to strike blows himself. The subsequent vicious exchange was delivered with such lightning-quick rapidity that Vince had trouble seeing the individual blows. From his distant vantage point, all he could make out was a whirlwind of punches and kicks, most of which appeared to be delivered by Dennis Liu.
In comparison to the fleet-footed martial-arts star, Tiger’s movements appeared ponderous. His powerful punches too often met only ah-, and in almost every instance, these miscues cost him badly, as Liu turned every successful parry into an effective attack.
When one of Tiger’s roundhouse kicks grazed Liu’s chin, the Chinese man let loose a deep, bloodcurdling yell. This signaled the start of a furious sequence of superbly timed blows, delivered by Liu with his fists, elbows, knees, and the sides of his feet. A violent head butt appeared to stun Tiger. Liu followed it up with a front kick aimed right at his gut. This blow made solid contact, causing Tiger to double over and painfully gasp for air.
Once more Dennis Liu let loose an animalistic cry. Then, in an incredibly swift move that Vince almost missed seeing, Liu initiated a spiraling forward flip that ended with a solid knee to Tiger’s forehead.
Liu continued this relentless onslaught without stopping. After leaving Tiger with a sharp elbow to the right temple, he slipped behind his dazed opponent and got him in a firm headlock. Vince knew that this lethal hold could prove to be the coup de grace. With the palm of one hand on Tiger’s bruised temple and his other arm securely locked beneath the Japanese agent’s jaw, all it would take was a single push on Liu’s part to break his opponent’s neck.