Static. “Clint! Clint! Talk to me! Did you make it? Clint!” “…I made it. Oh, man, that hurt. I’m not doing that again, Molly, not ever, not even if the whole Earth’s in peril.” “My ribs hurt. I think they might be broken.” “They are not. Stop complaining. Your ribs…
Johnny Chen struck a fighting stance as the thugs surrounded him. There were ten, maybe fifteen, all masked. Most carried knifes. He saw a club, heard a length of chain stretched taut. He knew why he was there, why he must fight: they had Honey Li, his niece, and he…