Re: Chapter 17: The Barbary Coast
Two groups had assembled, departing the den separately before sunrise.
Rasmin, Oldman, Richardson and Ringgenberg. The Suey Sing
Sunday, Winters, Beauregard and Coopwood. The Sum Yop.
Conway's role took him away from the action. He had secured a safe house for Cole's return--a residence where all of the men could lay low and recuperate after the rescue--and he would need to be there to ensure all was prepared. Some discussion had arisen over whether the professor should go with Conway, as well as what Coop's role in all of this might be. To his credit, Conway's man had expressed his reservations about this affair without beating the devil round the stump. He had known these men only for nigh two days. . . and besides, tangling with the Tongs seemed like a way to end a man's livelihood, not extend it. Nonetheless, as the plan developed, including the idea to assign one man in each group to serve as a lookout and a runner, the men found common ground in regard to Coop rounding out their numbers. And of the professor taking his place on the front lines, as it were, although after much debate they landed on the notion that Jake would be the best lookout for his group. The rifleman's sharpshooting with the carbine would serve as a last resort should this endeavor go south and spill into the streets. The other men had already deposited their longarms at the stable, where both Bess and Horse were put up, expecting that any outbreak of combat was likely to happen in close quarters.
The plan, far from perfect, had risks. It counted on a modicum of luck. The men who would attempt to enter each of the Tong strongholds had to acknowledge full well that they had placed their checks on the table, and that the turn of a card could change the outcome of the bet.
Light fog in the darkness gave them an initial advantage. Each group went its own way. A tactic proposed by JEB--backed by Winters and Rasmin--guided them. They would travel in two pairs of two men, with each of the lookouts and another pard lingering behind an advance pair, which would scout the building up close. When the two men made their move to enter the building, the third man would take their place while the lookout would take cover and observe.
Most of the rest of the plan had never materialized, although the planning had served its purpose. No more than ten minutes after Mr. Big'un and Rasmin had taken their positions, watching the Suey Sing house to measure the signs of activity before attempting to break down the back door, that door itself had swung open with a creak and a thunk. A stumbling figure appeared in the doorframe. He looked drunk. No, he looked like a man beaten. Broken. Not expecting such a fortunate happenstance, it took both Rasmin and Oldman several heartbeats to realize the man was Cole Trayne.
Randy rushed toward the small wooden platform where Cole stood looking side-to-side as if to get his bearings in the world. The wrangler registered someone running toward him and the instinct for flight took hold. Nonetheless, Oldman reached the platform in a few bounds before Cole had taken more than two painful steps. Randy grabbed the wounded cowboy, then steadied the fellow Buffalo. Unfortunately, the big man's landing and lunging on the wood deck had engendered a short series of rhythmic thuds, accompanying Cole’s clumsy exit from the cellar. Rasmin had given the hand signal to ENS and then rushed forward to join Oldman and Trayne.
"Gets him to the Bangtail," Randy had ordered the bounty hunter. "I means it. Run." The pugilist had no time for other words, as he heard what he assumed were the Tong's hatchetmen moving about after the sounds of Cole's escape had interrupted the relative quiet of the early morning hours.
Rasmin obeyed, glancing back over his shoulder as he helped the barefoot, bloodied wrangler move away from the building. The professor ran towards the Suey Sing house as instructed, while Jake deliberately whistled the tune that was meant to alert the other group should either of them have found Trayne.
Even in his weakened state, still suffering from the hatchet wounds of less than 48 hours past (as were three of his pards), Mr. Big'Un fought like a bear. His massive, bare paws clubbed and lacerated the boo how doy that streamed from the building. He fought with a two-handed expertise equaled by none of the highbinders.
Watching from his post, Jake saw everything: The professor running toward Rasmin, who dragged a ragged Cole Trayne. ENS stopping as if to examine the wounded man, while Rasmin had nearly lifted Cole's dead weight and barreled directly past the easterner. The professor, turning in his tracks and running after Rasmin, caught up to the now-burdened bounty hunter. Now, two men dragging Trayne towards the rifleman, while a ring of hatchetmen had surrounded Mr. Big'un and a few others scouted the perimeter.
Richardson had good cover; he had watched for several seconds, aiming his carbine, while Oldman fought. Jake wanted to squeeze off a round, but he did not want to hit his pard. And while the boo how doy had enjoined battle, they and Oldman had remained mostly silent. A battle of the old ways; with fists and knives. Jake understood. The big man was giving them time to escape before all of Chinatown had been alerted. The Texan clenched his teeth and continued to aim while Randy dropped a handful of the black hat warriors. The two men carrying Cole finally reached his position.
ENS had insisted that they stop right there. Rasmin, gasping, had relented. Jake whispered that they needed to stick to the plan. He urged them to run, much like the big man had just done. He would back Oldman’s gambit.
Moments later, as two more highbinders fell to Randy’s fists, Jake heard a shot ring out. Waal damn, he thought. So much for a quiet escape. When he heard the second shot, the rifleman discharged a round from his Spencer, taking out one of the black hats, and then chambered the next cartridge.
Several streets away, Travis, JEB, Winters and Coop had heard Jake’s whistle. More precisely, two of them had heard it, and they convinced the other two of the same. The four moved with a purpose toward the Suey Sing, still in their pairs and making haste without breaking into a run. They needed to remain in the shadows themselves, as long as possible. Almost there, all four of them heard the weapon reports. The gunfire changed their minds; the men broke into a run and approached Jake’s position.
The rifleman had squeezed off another round, wounding one of the highbinders when he saw Randy Oldman crumple. The mountain of a man had fallen to one knee, then disappeared inside the ring of the highbinders. Around Oldman, Jake saw, lay several immobile bodies in black garb. The survivors, only a few by that time, began dragging the bodies of their brethren into the building.
Jake thought to plug another of the black hats, but a police whistle pierced the fog in Chinatown. They could not be far away. Travis and JEB raced past the rifleman’s perch, closing the distance to the boo how doy. Jake covered his pards, ready to shoot if needed, but holding his fire so as to avoid the attention of the nearby constabulary--until he had no choice.
The highbinders efficiently rid the back-alley of their fallen brothers. Richardson counted maybe a dozen of the black hats had succumbed to Oldman's ferocious fists.They were gone by the time JEB and Travis had arrived. Meanwhile, Winters and Coop had joined the rifleman at his post. Jake offered no explanation of the situation. Like he had told the others, he told these two to make a beeline for the safe house. He would cover Sunday and Beauregard. Neither Coop nor Winters had been up to his neck in this sort of difficulty before. They listened to Richardson, high-tailing it out of Chinatown.
Travis and JEB came upon Randy’s motionless body. The police whistle sounded again, much closer now. No time for examinations or ruminations. The two old pards grabbed the big man from the No Buffalo Outfit, lifting and dragging his hulking frame from the scene and over to Jake’s cover. With Jake still keeping his vigil, the other two men had hoisted Oldman in a manner such that they could carry him and move more quickly. Jake remained behind to provide cover for as long he thought practicable. When the police entered the alley, he crept away quietly, confident that JEB and Travis had put enough distance between themselves and the Suey Sing house to avoid any of the policemen.
In waves, the men had made it back to the safe house. When JEB, Travis and Jake had arrived, carrying the dead body of Randy Oldman, a solemn mood fell over the place and its new inhabitants. Cole had been rescued, but at a terrible price.
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OOC: One more narrative post and then the PCs can begin.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:13, Thu 09 July 2015.