Molotov

The sun dropped below the horizon some hours ago, and bright lights illuminate the façade of Imperial Hsinking. One of those typically Chinese-looking exteriors, all pillars, Chinese hip-and-gable rooves and red colouring, one could be forgiven for thinking it a restaurant catering to Americans, but for its scale and a simple glance at its patrons. All noise and commotion inside even at this hour, delicious smells of the East waft from the kitchens, and the air is filled with a lilting buzz as a hundred conversations in languages from Mandarin to Cantonese to Japanese all clamour for primacy.

As the night wears on, the restaurant eventually finds itself all but empty; its last patrons having drunkenly made their way home in the midst of the night. The lights at the front of shop have been dimmed and the staff and customers alike are gone. Through the dim interior, music issues from an old radio and soft tunes from one of the many local Asian stations echo around restaurant.



In the centre of the restaurant a circle of light from overhead illuminates a large round table with papers and accounting books orderly placed on an immaculate table cloth. The table is surrounded by empty chairs, and two occupied ones - two suited men, approximately the same age and obviously related, sit talking.

"This won't do, Michael." Evidently the senior of the two, the first man ashes his cigarette over an ashtray halfway between them. His suit jacket hangs on a neighbouring chair and his sleeves are rolled up as though to work, but his papers seem to have lost their allure at present. "Trust those idiots to get caught. We have more important things to do than rebuild the core of the Honghuzi. And they lost their bikes too... Fucking idiots."

"Don't worry about it, Johnny. You've still got me, and I'll handle it." The second man still wore his jacket, which fitted him closely. Though both were muscular, this one was clearly more of a fighter.

"Good. Steer clear of bái chī this time. The new guy seems reliable, at least."

"Yeah, Kai. He's solid. Loyal. A promising prospect for the future of the Honghuzi."

"I'm telling you, Michael. This organisation has been around a long time. I won't let my father down in his absence and see his work go to ruin."

"Come on now, Johnny, it's hardly all that bad. Uncle Charlie'll be fine, and when he gets out, we'll be stronger than ever."

"True. And business is good, at least. Opportunities abound. The Pacific Bannermen are on the rise, and the tides will carry us all higher than ever before..."