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Like flies
Sheng Lo was easier to ambush as Yun Kao. There was no way the old man would have had warning someone from the Singapore Syndicate was coming until the accounts who paid Sheng’s guards suddenly paid them double to walk out. They walked away from their boss, and Zixin walked right in.

The warehouse was in an industrial stretch along the Moscow river. The cargo ship port was several miles upriver. The skyscrapers of downtown Moscow made for a nice backdrop to what was happening under the city’s nose. Cargo cranes loomed overhead like vulture wings ready to drop on their prey.

Zixin only left one body behind. That of old Sheng Lo. Two, technically. Sheng Lo had a lieutenant whose name Zixin couldn't remember. He made the men walk to the cargo ship and kneel down in the coal simply to keep the office from getting dirty. They died execution style, bullet to the brain meant another pair of gloves trashed afterward. The bodies were rolled into the river, churned to the bottom by the turbines of one of the thousands of massive ships chugging along in the darkness.

Over the next few days, a number of people associated with Yun Kao suddenly disappeared. A Russian cop named Slav being the highest profile. There were a few others on the CCDPD pay roll, but no one was particularly important among them. They were all thought to be on the down-low, and it was assumed one organization or another took them out.

Zixin’s first week in Moscow was busy. The bodies dropped like flies.

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