Note: Be warned this is an alternate reality universe. I've been watching way too many Kung Fu movies. If people beg enough Jet Li and Jackie Chan may make cameo appearances.
Disclaimer: I don't own Days or any of their characters or any of the various Kung Fu movies I've watched. And I don't know a heck of a lot about Eastern culture other than what I've learned through the pop grapevine, please understand that this is mindless fun.
Background: Brady never went to boarding school, instead Mercenary John Black sent his son (at three years old) to be trained in the ways of a Buddhist priest/warrior, in far off Hong Kong under the guidance of Master Chan to learn the arts of Kung Fu, Judo, and Tai Chi, so that he could better honor his father and stepmother and achieve a state of enlightenment (that and Steffi brainwashed John into doing it). Oh, and Lucas (you remember Lucas Roberts, don't you?) never was in a fire and never married Nicole, instead he took out all the frustration Sami has caused him over the years into his old passion-martial arts. He is now the undisputed champion of Drunken Boxing.
Brady is finally coming home to that strange land they call Salem. . .
Prolog:
He opted to fly in a day earlier than expected to allow himself a small span of time in which to acclimate to his new surroundings before he would meet the people he would call family. Drinking his tea in an outdoor café under the cool afternoon sun, he strived to achieve that inner calm that had so alluded him since he first took off his peasant's robe to don traditional Western attire, dark slacks, navy sweatshirt (Go Yankees). He watched a young couple playing catch in the distance, contemplating the nature of the game, how eternity in the representation of a circle could be tossed about so carelessly, through the simple redirection of energy. A smile tugged at his lips as he also couldn't help but notice that the woman was by far the more graceful player.
Perhaps it was her loveliness that distracted him, or perhaps it was the overwhelming sense of culture shock that he was experiencing, or perhaps it was simply fate that his normal meticulous nature, ever aware of his surroundings, was failing him. Whatever the case, he felt slightly off balance.
And consequently he had no idea that the waiter approaching him had a gun concealed under his tray.
In retrospect, he should of known that Kai Ling would never let go. A debt of blood was a debt of blood, even if Ling's craven brother Hang had started the feud taking the life of Brady's best friend in a mockery of a challenge pulling out a hidden knife when the match clearly would have been lost. It was now a matter of honor for Ling to avenge his brother, as it had been a matter of honor for Brady to do the same for his friend. And if not for the girl, Ling would most assuredly have succeeded in his quest.
It truly was fortune's intervention that not only had she seen the flash of the gun, but also had the quick thinking and precise aim to fire her baseball in a direct hit to the waiters head. It bought Brady the instant he needed, before the echoing machine gunfire to dive for cover utilizing the waiter's body as a shield while the rest of Ling's disciples arrived, screaming and running across the street hopping over cars and pushing past pedestrians. He had precious seconds to spare, abandoning the riddled and bloody body to dive over the café's gate behind him. Then he was sprinting into the nearby park, dodging bullets along the way until he reached his dumbstruck benefactress, one of Ling's men having already targeted her, forcing her and her gawking boyfriend to hide behind a maple, hands over their heads in terror. In disgust Brady noticed that their attacker obviously had no principle, toying with his hapless victims sending off showers of bullets fiendishly grinning the whole while, laughing as the boy wet himself and the girl screamed.
Fast as a silver fish, kick flying into the air, Brady made small work of the thug sending him sprawling and unconscious.
After which, he wasted no time to pick up the gun and shoot off round after round into his attackers, each of his aims finding a home.
Five men had been sent to kill him. Five men had paid the price for that audacity with their own lives. Wordlessly, calmly as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, as if the green grass of the park was not splattered in bright burgundy, Brady reached out and grasped the huddled girl's hand pulling her away to walk down the street with him. They we're a half a block away before she realized what she was doing, before her fair haired boyfriend woke from his stupor to yell out, "Hey, where do you think you're going with my girlfriend?"
Phillip didn't have the time to blink his eyes much less think about following when Brady disappeared around the corner. . . . with Chloe.
*****-----***********
They stopped in a grungy small alleyway between sixth and seventh, with five possible escape routes: one up the fire escape of Frank's Fishery, one through the open back door of Franks where some truckers were unloading cargo, one in the open second story window of the neighboring apartment building, and the obvious ones at the opposing ends of the street which in the case of trouble would surely be blocked. But, Brady liked the advantage it gave him since he could clearly see any approaching danger. And he was pretty certain that now that Ling had lost the element of surprise, there would be no more upcoming confrontations for the day.
But looking into the enraged face of his savior, he quickly reassessed that assumption.
"Let me go you Creep!" She shouted.
Automatically, Brady released her, astonished at her loveliness in her bright yellow shorts and blazing orange tank as she stumbled back from the force of her own pulling.
"I mean you no harm, little sun. I only wish to thank you." He explained confused by her look of incomprehension until he realized that he had spoken to her in Chinese.
Yes. He was definitely having an off day.
"I thank you, kind one. You have saved my life and now it is yours, till the day I save your life in return. It is my duty and great honor." He repeated, marveling at the perfect dichotomy that was her, from her dress as dazzling as the dawn, to her hair as dark as the blackest night, to her skin as pale as the moon. She must of done spectacular things in a past life to be blessed with such beauty.
But instead of being relieved by his words she looked frightened, timidly but steadily backing away from him, babbling the whole while.
"Ah. . . that's very nice, but no thank you. Really it was nothing. I- I'll just be going home now."