Thursday. The Sunny Greens Country Club, a place where old rich people went to play golf and complain about other old rich people, all the while pretending they aren't bored out of their minds. Truly, the pinnacle of American society. It was a country founded on complaints, after all. First it was tea and taxes, and now folks complained about pretty much everything. Ayda would never say she remained immune to such folly, though. In truth, she bitched and moaned just as much as anyone else when circumstances didn't particularly suit her.

For instance, why did it have to be a country club? Of all the places this guy could choose to spend his Thursdays, why somewhere like this? Even in the parking lot the pretentious attitude was so thick, Ayda thought she could reach out and grab it. Every inch of the place gave off a holier than thou aura. It almost seemed warmer for the energy of greed and opulence which surrounded it.

Suffice it to say, she absolutely despised places like this. They made her feel heavy, as if the snobbish expectations of high society were a physical weight on her shoulders. It wasn't just the country club, either. Fancy stores, expensive restaurants, sports car dealerships, all of them suffered. Even her high school felt uncomfortable and exclusionary on occasion, but most of the time the students were too busy to make it much worse.

In reality, the locations themselves weren't really what bothered her. The people provided the true meat of the problem. After all, buildings don't care about their inhabitants. No, the turned up noses made her blood boil more than anything else. Perhaps because she hadn't always been rich. There was a time in her life when she literally had nothing. None of these hobnobbers had the faintest idea how fleeting their wealth really was. In an instant, it could all be taken away. If they just showed a little gratitude, maybe then these folks wouldn't get under her skin.

The moment Ayda pulled into the parking lot, she wanted to leave. The atmosphere, the sport, the people, she hated all of them with a burning passion. Out of pure spite, she gave her motorcycle one last loud rev before switching it off. Hopefully, someone missed their shot because of that disturbance. She dismounted and replaced her helmet with a pair of sunglasses. Her outfit was much the same as her last data collection outing, although this time she sported a salmon tank top instead of a black one. She felt as though it made her look less intimidating. Before beginning toward the entrance, she extracted an orange plastic clipboard from her saddlebags.

Most situations, regardless of how negative, were rarely at a lack for humor. This was true even with Ayda's current predicament. An elderly couple stood near the entrance to the main office. Ayda hadn't noticed them until she'd started to make her way toward the building. They both gave her disapproving looks and then continued to speak in hushed tones, glancing occasionally as she walked.

Now, she couldn't be certain whether this had to do with the bike, the leather jacket, or the color of her skin, but that detail seemed irrelevant. The reaction was what mattered. Ayda couldn't help a little chuckle upon walking through the entrance.

While the attached golf course was by far the main attraction, the country club was not without more domestic accouterments. It featured a large main dining hall, a few smaller rooms for private parties, and several sitting areas. They all followed the same sort of motif with warm, middle tones, fancy chandeliers, and a lot of natural light.

The place opened up immediately to a large square foyer. This was where Ayda found herself. At the far end stood a receptionist, a pretty redheaded woman in her thirties. Most of her was obscured by a long rectangular desk much too tall for her. The room lacked any other prominent features. Mostly, it served as a hub for the areas toward the front end of the building.

Ayda walked over to the receptionist. Awkwardness between them could be cut with a knife even before she reached the desk. The receptionist probably thought she looked out of place, which was absolutely the truth.

"Hey," Ayda greeted. She leaned an elbow on the desk. "I'm here for the golf course?" She hadn't the faintest idea how to start this conversation, but that seemed as good an opener as any.

"Certainly, miss," the receptionist practically sang. "Are you a member?" She typed briefly on her keyboard.

"Um, no, I'm not," Ayda said. Dropping Bernard's name may have gotten her in, but it would also draw a heap of undo attention.

"Okay, there's an entrance fee for non-members to use the golf course," replied the receptionist.

"Of course there is." Ayda rolled her eyes. She produced a wallet from her right rear pocket and handed her credit card to the woman. The receptionist took it with a smile.

"And can I also interest you in an equipment rental?" Asked the redhead, sliding Ayda's card through a table mounted reader.

"No, I'm just meeting someone, so I don't need any clubs." This had already gone on too long. The more Ayda talked, the less believable her story became.

"Okay," the receptionist said after a moment. "Your total is three-hundred dollars, is that alright?"

Ayda's heart sank. Three-hundred dollars to play golf? Once!? That's highway robbery! This place had already wormed its way under her skin, but now she despised it with an indescribable intensity. Were she not so financially endowed, she would have knocked the woman out and gone in without paying. No. Deep breaths and cooler heads. Ayda nodded. The receptionist smiled and hit a few more keys.

"Okay, you're all set." She handed Ayda back her card followed by a paper receipt.

"Just one more thing," said Ayda. "I've never actually been here before. Could you, maybe, give me directions or draw a map?" She turned over one of the sheets of paper on her clipboard for emphasis.

"Oh, well, we have directories for sale if you would—"

"Lady, I just spent three-hundred dollars to not play golf. You're not getting another cent out of me." Ayda starred intensely over the rims of her sunglasses. Unbelievable. This place wanted more money out of her. The Belmont family was clearly in the wrong business.

The receptionist paused, a bewildered look in her eyes. This was probably the first time anyone had tried to intimidate her into drawing a map. There was little to worry about, though, as long as she followed instructions. When the novelty of the moment wore off, she gave her best fake smile.

"Of course, ma'am." The receptionist removed a pen from a black wire cup and leaned over the clipboard. "It's mostly a straight shot from here..."

The moment she had her map, Ayda fled from the foyer. She wasted no time at all on her voyage through the building. The less time she spent there, the better. It seemed like a nice place, but she never gave herself the chance to look around. She wanted to be done with it, to go absolutely anywhere else.

In what was sure to be a new record, she made it out onto the golf course. Looking out upon the endless sea of impossibly green grass, Ayda realized for the first time how daunting her task would be. Before her stretched eighteen holes of pure monotony. Seriously, they all looked exactly the same. Thankfully, no one played golf at noon so there weren't many people, but that wouldn't help if Ayda was unable to locate her prize. Perhaps a cart rental would have been a sound investment after all. With a sigh, she set about her task.

Okay, time for some critical thinking. This Lo Feng fellow seemed like a rather detail oriented person. Otherwise, how could he have a job making people disappear? That in mind, he probably kept a tight schedule. It was about twenty minutes after noon right now, which meant he couldn't have gone far. Ayda just had to find an effective way to search.

Her attention was immediately drawn to a tree several feet ahead of her. While most foliage in the park looked to be about the same height, this one stood a bit taller. Elevation would give her a lay of the land. If nothing else, it would tell where Lo Feng currently was not. Anything which helped narrow her search was a welcome development.

Ayda stood at the trunk for a moment. She stared up at the finely manicured branches. It dawned on her that she'd never actually climbed a tree before. She hadn't the time to figure it out now. A shortcut would be required. She took a few steps back and then kicked the ground. An energy blast sent her rocketing upward. The teenager sailed through the air, arms spread wide in preparation to grab hold of the trunk.

"Wait. Oh, shit!" Ayda cursed as she approached the tree. The flying girl realized this would not be quite as simple as she'd imagined. There were far more branches at the top than expected. Already airborne, it was far too late to change course. Ayda winced. This might hurt.

She put her hands up. A the last possible moment, Ayda produced a small blast. It was weak, enough to move the branches without actually damaging them. The little shockwave made a perfect pocket for her to slide right into. She collided into the trunk and hugged it with all her might. A few leaves fluttered comically to the ground below. Ayda took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. This was turning out to be a day of fresh experiences. First time in a country club, first time on a golf course, and now first time climbing a tree, although she kind of cheated on that last one. What other exciting new things awaited her? Hopefully none.

From her perch, Ayda scanned the landscape. Some of the area remained obscured by trees in the rough, but many of the nearby fairways were plainly visible. It didn't really make a difference, though. All she could see was a whole lot of nothing. There were a few distant figures, but none of them jumped out to her. She took them down as possible search locations, but something told her a man important as Feng wouldn't travel out in public alone. He would have at least one bodyguard. So, Ayda had to be on the lookout for a suspicious group of people.

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She shimmied around the tree, taking footholds where she could, but mostly she used the trunk itself for grip and leverage. Confounded thing. Ayda was quickly discovering a new animosity for trees. She prayed no one would come around to see her. Exaggerated motions eventually led her around to the other side.

Here the story was much the same, scattered people which didn't draw attention to themselves in any way. There must have been some appeal to playing golf alone, but Ayda couldn't for the life of her weasel it out. Old folks were weird.

At this distance, most of her vision was based completely on motion. The dots were too easy to miss when static. Her enhanced reflexes came in most handy. Nothing escaped her gaze for long, especially not those caught up in various feats of athleticism... or whatever the equivalent for this was.

This movement based sight had its downfalls, however. Ayda was about to descend when something new caught her eye. Far off in the distance, a particularly small figure made its first move. This would not have been remarkable on its own, were it not for the four other individuals in the same area. That was certainly different, and it aligned perfectly with her hunch.

Ayda let herself fall to the ground, softening her fall with a downward blast. She still landed on her hands and knees, though. Next time, she'd be sure to think of a better way down before going up into a tree. She stood and dusted off her jacket. With focus like a laser, she started toward her target. They probably wouldn't still be there upon arrival, but they'd be close. That was good enough for her.

Greenery within the course still provided Ayda with ample assistance. Now, instead of height, she used them as cover. At a normal walking pace it would take her a very long time to catch up with her current objective, especially considering the substantial mobility bonus from their golf cart. It may not even be the right group of people. Feng would only be there for so long, even if it did take quite a while to play a round. She could not afford to waste any time.

Concealed by the leaves and branches, Ayda ran along propelled by little blasts underneath her feet. Quicker than any normal person could run, it still was not fast enough for her. She had to make concessions for sound. No amount of clever hiding could keep people from hearing her. Multiple shotgun blasts coming out of the thicket would probably cause some alarm. Hopefully, this slower speed would not prove too great a hindrance.

When Ayda reached the spot where she'd last seen the fishy group, she found her suspicions were completely unfounded. Golf was a slow game, after all. They had only moved on up to the next hole, and seemed to be about halfway through completing it. Not that she had any idea what the process of playing the sport actually looked like.

From here, she walked out in the open. Ayda did her absolute best to seem as nonthreatening as possible. She wanted to be just a regular young woman, no danger nor cause for concern. If she couldn't get close, this would never work.

Her spirits soared as she approached. This group continued to tick off boxes in her assumptions list. First off, all but one of the guards were Asian. Since she was looking for Chinese gangsters, this detail was rather important. Of the five total individuals, one of them swung a club. He was a middle-aged Chinese man with short dark hair. He wore a light blue striped polo and khaki shorts with white shoes, a pale visor upon his head. The other four all wore identical suits and sunglasses. Each openly carried pistols at their hips. They were the most obvious bunch of bodyguards to ever exist.

The goons made no move to intercept her as Ayda approached, but doubtless they were aware of her presence. In the last few feet she tugged at her jacket and straightened her hair. Outward appearances had been the last thing on her mind, but she realized just how much damage running through a miniature forest must have done. First impressions were everything. This may fall apart if she didn't look good.

Despite the massive uncertainty of her current predicament, however, she felt rather calm. Her heart beat at even intervals. Her breathing was normal. No amount of anxiety gnawed at the back of her brain. Ayda recognized this feeling, of course. It was the calm before the storm she always experienced right before a good brawl. She clenched her eyes for a moment in an attempt to banish the notion. Probably not the best mindset to be in right then.

One of the bodyguards put up his hand a bit before Ayda came within arm's reach of him. She took the hint and stopped in her tracks. End of the road. Moment of truth. She took a deep breath to center herself emotionally. Wearing her best artificial smile, Ayda put her plan into action.

"Um... Mr. Lo Feng, sir?" Ayda began. The older man completely ignored her and went about lining up his shot. "My name is Sandra, I'm with the El Puerto University student press." Another chance for rebuttal was met by silence. "I'm—uh—doing a story about successful minorities in business. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind answering a few questions?"

"No," the man replied simply. This response carried more weight than he thought, however. If he weren't Lo Feng, he would have said so. Ayda had him now.

"I know you're a busy man, but it won't take very long," she insisted. "I think you're the best candidate for my story."

"Go bother someone else, kid." Feng grimaced. He took a practice swing as if to demonstrate just how much he cared about her little project. Now, Ayda knew a lost cause when she saw one. Time for plan B.

"You know," Ayda heaved a big sigh, "I don't even know why I thought this would work." She tossed her clipboard to the wayside. "I had a bunch of great questions lined up, too."

Next, she stripped off her jacket to fully reveal the spaghetti strap salmon tank top beneath. The coat was also thrown away. By now, the guards had picked up on the tonal shift. The two in the back fidgeted in almost identical wasy, much like a cowboy about to grab his gun. The duo in front gave her scathing looks she could feel even through their glasses.

"And to think, I actually wanted to resolve this whole thing peacefully." She shrugged. "Oh well."

In a movement faster than the eye could see, Ayda lashed out with both her fists. Each one buried into the gut of either guard in front of her. Two strong blasts echoed through the quiet course. The men sailed backward through the air. One of them completely cleared the golf cart. Both landed well behind it. They would not be getting back up any time soon.

The reaction of the other two guards was instantaneous. They drew their weapons at almost the exact same time. Experienced trigger fingers laid impressive fire down upon the attacking girl. Unfortunately for them, Ayda had dealt with much worse.

Again, she dedicated a hand to each assailant. Their bullets had no effect. Ayda met each and every one with a burst which either shattered or—occasionally—redirected them. The men carried identical pistols, a capacity of thirteen slugs loaded into the weapons. Each shot was a wasted opportunity. Ayda almost felt bad for them. They were trying their hardest, but it meant nothing. They could never in a million years break her defense. At least they were decent marksman. Every round was aimed somewhere at center mass, and none missed. They just couldn't actually get through to her.

The bullets dried up. Ayda grinned. Her turn. A pair of blasts beneath her feet rocketed her forward. Hunched low, she used all this force to drive her fist into the left guard's midsection. He cried out and doubled over in surprised agony. The other swiped down at her with his gun. Ayda stood to avoid the attack. It whiffed harmlessly. Ayda punched him once in the ribs and then again in the face. The second hit carried a blast which send him spinning into the distance. Surprisingly, the first guard was still on his feet, albeit bent down. Ayda raised her foot high up in the air, and brought down a vicious axe kick into the back of his neck. An explosion smashed his face into the ground.

A gunshot from a new location grabbed Ayda's attention. The bullet whizzed not even an inch past her head as she turned toward its source. Lo Feng had produced his own firearm and trained it on her. He shot again, but this time she intercepted it. Ayda began to walk toward him. He continued firing, but at a much slower pace than his cohorts. Shaky hands could nary acquire a target. Most shots missed, and those which did fly true met no measure of success.

Ayda closed the distance. She backhanded the weapon from his grasp without the need for her powers. Immediately, the teenager followed up with an open-palm strike to the center of Lo Feng's chest. A blast sent him backward to collide with the rear of the golf cart. Ayda propelled herself over to him. With her forearm just below his neck, Ayda pinned him against the vehicle. Their faces were close. Briefly, it struck her just how similar this situation was to the last time she fought the Triad.

"Alright, dickweed," she began, "I lost my patience when I walked through the door to this place, so why don't you just tell me where to find Sun Xin and I'll leave you alone?"

"Sun Xin?" Feng wondered aloud. "Never heard of him." He kept a straight face despite obvious fear in his eyes. Ayda grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him against the cart.

"Don't play games with me," she warned. "I already spoke to some of your goons. I know you're in charge of witness protection for the Triad, and I know you handled Sun Xin's case. I promise I won't hurt you, if you tell me where he is."

"After what you just did to my men? No, I don't like Xin, but he's better than you. Go fuck yourself."

Ayda blinked once. "Do you know how many bones are in the human body?" She changed the subject.

"What?"

"Two-hundred and six by the time we reach adulthood," Ayda answered.

Without another word, she grabbed Feng's right hand. She held the tip of his index finger between her own thumb and forefinger. A tiny blast rippled through his flesh. Lo Feng gave a horrendous scream, the kind of thing nightmares were made of. His entire body went limp with pure suffering. Ayda was the only thing holding him up. She let his hand fall. The tip of his finger flopped in the wind. Where once had been bone was now nothing at all.

"That's two-hundred and five for you, now." Ayda let him go. He fell to his knees, clutching his injured appendage. "I used to be able to locate and destroy most of them—except for the really small ones—but that was a long time ago. What do you say we review, just the two of us?"

"You... crazy... bitch!" Lo Feng yelled through pained gasps.

"I'll take that as a yes." Ayda touched the second joint on his mangled finger. Another blast turned it to dust. "Two-hundred and four."

Again, Fen cried out. He slumped over on his side, curled up into a hapless little ball of misery and pain. Ayda knelt down next to him. He glanced up at her, terrified pupils wide with anticipation.

"Now, I'm gonna ask you again. Where is Sun Xin?"

"What do you want with him?" Amazing. Feng still had the mind to ask questions. Loyalties ran deep among lowlifes. It was almost admirable. Ayda touched the last joint on his limp finger. "No, wait—" A blast cut him off. He screamed bloody murder.

"Two-hundred and three. I'm asking the questions, Feng. I want an address and a description of the building." To reiterate her point, Ayda pinched the first joint on his right middle finger.

"407 Merchant Street!" Feng blurted. "The industrial district. There's an abandoned apartment building. Xin is in number two-zero-eight on the second floor."

"There," Ayda said softly. She brushed his cheek with gentle fingertips. He flinched at her touch. "I knew you'd come around." She retracted her hand. "Now, I hate to do this, but I have to threaten you. If, for any reason, I don't find Sun Xin, I'm coming back and we'll continue our little study session. Got it?"

Feng slowly nodded his head. Tears fell upon his face. Pathetic. Ayda smiled sweetly.

"You're a good student." She stood and began to walk away. "I sincerely hope we never see each other again."

Ayda gathered up her jacket and slung it over her shoulder, followed by the clipboard. The day's business was far from finished, for she had a new parameter. Everything she had been working toward the past week was about to come to fruition. She had all the pieces, now to put them in place. One way or another, Sun Xin would not see another moonrise.