The Dual-Pistols Blaster Is Coming!

I was procrastinating from far too much work by thinking about my eventual Dual Pistols Blaster and this kinda wrote itself, so I figured I'd post here

Three Outcasts walked through the icy interior of Frostfire's lair. One of them held a smartly dressed Chinese man by his arm and forcefully dragged him into their leader's chamber. Frostfire leaned back in a high-backed office as if it were a throne, his feet up on a table in front of it. Around him stood his lieutenants and guards.

"This is him, Frosty. We found him outside and figured you'd want to speak to him," one of the Outcasts said.
"Sure, I want to talk to him," Frostfire took his feet off the table and leant forward in his seat, "You speakie Engrish, Chinaman?"
The Chinese suit offered a shallow bow and nodded.
"I come with a message from the Wo Shing Wo," he said.
"The Washing Woe, huh?" Frostfire grinned and glanced at his lieutenants to gauge their their appreciation of his joke.
"Wo Shing Wo, great Triad of Sham Shui Po, great Triad of Hong Kong."
"Alright, Chinaman, you got your five minutes. Speak."
"A man is coming, he is called Tseng Lian Yeung, called also Yeung Deadly Gun. He will kill many of your people. He will harm your interests in many ways."
"Oh, he will, will he?"
"Yes."
"And this is the message?"
"No, the message is this: Any organisation who delivers his head to to Mr. Kunzheng Lao, boss of the Wo Shing Wo will be paid $250 million."
Frostfire blinked with greedy surprise at the sum.
"That's a lot of money for one man's head."
"Yes."
"So what did he do, this Tsu- Tsun- Tse- Deadly Gun guy? He mess around with your Mr Lao's daughter or something?"

"No. The Wo Shing Wo was one of the Four Noble Triads. Together they ruled the underworld in Hong Kong, Macau and Shanghai for over 70 years. There was peace for all that time, each Triad respected the other and every gang and overseas Tong respected their wishes and their territory. If they did not they would be annihilated as warning to others. This was so for three generations, and many became rich from supplying drugs, women and protection to those who would pay."
"In Sham Shui Po there was a building, it was a temple, a bank and a fortress. Such a building had stood in same place for over a century, serving the same purpose, serving the Four Noble Triads' needs. It was... inviolate. No argument would take place there. No policeman would threaten it. The Gwai-Tsoo would not approach it. Even the red mandarins of Beijing could not assail it."
"And then came the Deadly Gun. Like Jufeng, the great typhoon, he swept through the stronghold killing many men, and fire followed in his wake. Where he went his guns blazed death. None could withstand him. Floors were awash with blood. Corridors and chambers were ruined as he passed. He destroyed the Ceremonial Temple, he collapsed the vaults, he killed all in his path. The Four Bosses called on their allies, the Luen and Sun Yee, the Hop Lei and the Red Circle but all of the men they sent against him perished."
"He killed over two hundred of our most loyal fighters on that night. And then he destroyed the stronghold. Now, of the Four Noble Triads, only one remains - the Wo Shing Wo. All this by the hand of one man, Yeung Deadly Gun, the man who will come to your city to continue his work."

Frostfire had heard stories like this before, the unstoppable hero, the legendary lawman, but few had lived up to the tales. There was something in this guy's voice though, something that carried a weight of truth beyond those other rumours. As he considered what the Chinaman had told him Frostfire realised he was afraid. He turned his face away from the man for a moment and gathered his composure.
"This guy, he's a cop? A hero? You have heroes in China, right?" He spat on the floor as if to emphasise a lack of concern.
"He is neither. Some say he was once a policeman, others say he is a devil, and others say many things besides. This, of course, is unimportant. All that matters to Mr Kunzheng Lao is the Wo Shing Wo's vengeance. All that matters to you is the $250 million he will pay for Yeung Deadly Gun's head."
"So when's he coming, this Yeung Deadly Gun?"
"We do not know. All we know is that he will be here soon."


Later that night, off the coast of Rhode Island, a Skyraider Captain swept down metal steps into the cargo hold of his ship. Two of his men flanked the well-dressed Chinese man who'd been found on the deck above. His men saluted as he approached.
"So," the Captain began in a clipped, plummy accent, "perhaps you'd be so kind as to explain your presence aboard my vessel?"
The captive bowed as he replied, "I come with a message from the Wo Shing Wo."