An army of hoplites—professional warriors in battle 
armor—was marching toward the river, a score abreast, completely filling 
the width of Nanjing Road. These were not Fists; they were the regular army, 
the vanguard of the Celestial Kingdom, and Carl Hollywood was appalled to 
realize that the only thing now standing between them and their three-decade 
march to the banks of the Huang Pu was Carl Hollywood, his .44, and a handful 
of lightly armed civilians.