by V. J. Timlin
Chapter 17
Anouk glanced up. No moon or stars. Columns of smoke from countless chimneys in The Pits appeared in different shades of green through the night goggles she wore. The sky could have been cloudless, dotted with bright stars and the moon could be full, but the smoke hovered over the roofs like a stage curtain, blocking any glimmer of light.
She sighed and resumed observing Rose’s home street. Only she, Nat and a few others dared to defy the darkness. An eerie quiet lay over everything. Anouk shuddered. She wouldn’t be there either were it not for their investigations. Although the darkness hid them, it also hid the villains. Nat had assured her that the regular thugs of The Pits couldn’t afford night goggles. However, they weren’t her major concern. The brutes on Stalo’s payroll were. He might have supplied his men with similar glasses, at least those most loyal to him like that bastard Biddulph. She shuddered again. Stalo and Biddulph, his right-hand man… She wouldn’t be sorry if their dead bodies were found one morning in the same way Rekka and those two other bounty hunters had been found.
They advanced in silence towards Rose’s home. The occasional rat or cat ran across the street or rustled in the heaps of rubbish piled against the walls. Their eyes gleamed like gems among the greenish landscape. A loud crash came from within a house they were passing. Anouk jumped at the noise. A cry of outrage followed the clatter.
A woman screamed, “Do you know how much that cost, you fucking pisshead?”
“Fuck off, you old bitch,” the drunk yelled, his words slurred. “Unless you want to feel the leather of me belt.”
Anouk never heard the woman’s response; they had moved out of earshot. Lovely neighbourhood…
Nat whispered, “We are close now. Put your mask on.”
“Saw something suspicious?”
“No. Let’s be careful, though. I’ll warn you if I see anything and if we need to use those bombs.” Nat cocked his head towards the bag on Anouk’s shoulder before putting on his mask.
She lifted hers over her mouth and tightened the straps. With a nod, she signalled to Nat she was ready. He looked creepy with the round goggles and half mask, like a character from a low budget horror movie Owen once made her watch. The movie had been nothing but blood splatter and screaming. Now, though, the blood spatters were real, not just special effects.
They walked at a slow pace, scanning the surroundings. Anouk strained her ears to detect any anomaly in the soundscape. Her heart beat so fast she was sure Nat would turn around to hush her. Breathing through the mask was laborious, and she made a conscious effort to keep it steady and calm. Hyperventilating would mean a quick passing out—a disaster she wanted to avoid while carrying bombs.
She touched the two round bulges in her tote bag with shaking clammy hands. She had been horrified when she first saw the bombs—the glass orbs, the size of her palm. The smoke bombs were translucent, but the knockout gases were greenish.
Nat and Amanda had both assured her they wouldn’t break easily, but Anouk wasn’t convinced as they looked so fragile. Amanda even demonstrated their durability by dropping one on her wooden floor. Anouk had been ready to dart out, but the orb failed to break. That had been against wood, though, cobblestone might be another matter. She wouldn’t want to fall on her bag and test that hypothesis.
Nat stopped and waved Anouk next to him. Rose’s house loomed, light pouring out from her window. Nat had sent Rose a message a couple of hours earlier so she must have received it and was waiting for them. Nat pointed towards the stairs across the street from Rose’s house and lifted his mask. “There,” he whispered.
Anouk strained her eyes, but no movement caught her vision. She loosened the straps of her mask and was about to ask Nat what she was supposed to see when she spotted faint clouds rising behind the stairs—someone was smoking. Her stomach sank to her boots. Brilliant. How would they get to Rose without raising any suspicion?
“Yes, I see it now,” she whispered. “You were right. Arnar’s clinic is being watched.”
“Aye.”
“Should we abort the mission and ask Rose to meet us somewhere else? I mean, us going in now and coming out a few minutes later might draw unwanted attention to her.” Anouk nudged her thumb towards the rising smoke.
“No, we meet Rose as planned. I’ll throw knockout gas. When they come around, their suspicions will be directed to Arnar’s place, not Rose’s.”
“I suppose that makes sense. Do you think there are more of them?”
“Possibly. Put your mask back on. It’s time to relieve the watcher from his duties.” As Nat fixed his back, Anouk did the same. Nat’s hand dove into the large pocket of his trench coat and he fished out a ball. He hurled it behind the stairs. A sharp crash of glass echoed between the buildings.
“Watch out!” a man cried and jumped into view. He took another step before collapsing on the cobblestones. Another meaty thud came from the hiding place.
Anouk nudged forward, but Nat took her by the elbow. “Wait.”
She froze on the spot and listened, her heart hammering. After a few eerily silent minutes Nat leaned next to her ear. “Let’s check on Rose.”
They tiptoed to the house. Nat moved to a small window and peeked in. After a moment, he turned to look at Anouk and lifted two fingers. She frowned. What did that mean? Did Rose have a guest? She shook her head, turning her palms up.
“Two men inside,” Nat said next to her ear, his voice tense. “It’s a trap. I’m going in. Watch my back.”
A cold grip squeezed Anouk’s heart. Had Rose betrayed them? To Stalo? If so, why?
Nat crouched in front of the door and took a knife from his boot. He wiggled it into the crack between the door and the doorframe. A soft clang came when the latch opened. Nat pushed the door open and charged in. Anouk lifted the goggles on her forehead and darted after him, drawing her katana.
Banging sounds of furniture toppling over was the first sign that the men had heard them. Not that Nat had tried to be quiet. The second sign was gunshots. Anouk didn’t know who shot first, Nat or the men.
A cry of pain inside was followed by Nat’s growl, “Don’t even think about it.”
Anouk entered the room, holding her katana in front of her, ready to wield it.
A man eyed Nat, hesitating but still aiming his revolver at him. He glanced at his comrade who lay crumpled on the floor and was holding his shoulder, his face twisted in agony. Based on their dark patched suits and caps, Anouk was ready to bet they were locals. Both men looked in their mid-twenties. They still had a youthful roundness in their chapped cheeks.
Nat cocked the hammer. That action seemed to motivate the man. He dropped his gun and lifted his hands into the air.
“That’s better.” Nat pulled down the mask of his face, Anouk following his suit. “Now, who sent you and where are Rose and her daughters?”
The man thrust his chin out in defiance. His comrade staggered up from the floor, doing the same.
Anouk had no doubt who was behind this trap. That son of a bitch. Because of men like these two, Stalo avoided justice, and she was prevented from going back to London and her normal life.
She stepped closer and rested her katana on the shoulder of the unwounded man. “I’ve cut a few hands, but I’d dearly like to extend my repertoire to cutting necks. Are you volunteering or will you answer my partner’s questions?”
The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.
“Better do as the lady says,” Nat added, his tone amiable. “I’ve seen her do it and that sword is very sharp.”
The man’s Adam’s apple jumped up and down again, but still, he refrained. Anouk slid the blade closer to his neck, cutting the fabric of his shirt. He grimaced, but refused to breathe a word.
“Maybe he doesn’t like his head,” Anouk said to Nat, trying to sound nonchalant. In truth the man’s refusal to talk was as unnerving as it was irritating. She didn’t want to carry out her threat—cutting hands had been bad enough, cr
acking the skull even worse. Maybe the man sensed she wouldn’t follow through her threat. Anouk grounded her teeth.
“So it seems,” Nat replied. “Let’s see if this will loosen his tongue.” Nat shifted his gun, pointing at the man’s shoulder, and pulled the trigger in an exaggerated slow motion, giving time for the man’s imagination to fill the gaps. The thug squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the bullet to smack into his muscle. Why was he willing to put up with all this rather than tell them what they wanted to know? What had Stalo promised them to keep their mouths shut?
“Captain Biddulph,” the wounded man blurted. His comrade’s eyes flew open, and he scowled at him. The wounded man ignored it and continued, “I don’t know where he took the woman and her daughters. He just told us to keep an eye out for the bounty hunters.”
“That’s us, I presume?” Nat said.
The wounded man licked his lips. “Aye.”
“And?”
“Shut it,” his comrade growled.
The wounded man shot an irritated look, wincing in pain before he snapped back, “What does it matter? They have killed the two outside and have probably guessed the rest.”
Anouk wasn’t going to tell them the men outside were alive; unconscious, but alive. Better if they thought otherwise.
“I ain’t dying for a few ugions,” the wounded man added with a defensive tone when his comrade deepened his scowl. He turned to address Nat again. “The deal was…”
A sharp noise shattered the window. Nat pushed Anouk to the floor. She yelped in surprise and dropped her sword. Nat covered her with his body and fired. Bullets ricocheted off the walls, hitting metal. A series of loud clatters overlaid the gunfire when Rose’s pans fell from the fireplace onto the floor.
“Take cover. Next to the wall,” Nat shouted while firing out of the window.
Anouk fought off her tote bag and rolled over to the corner. The broken glass crunched under her. She curled into a ball, pressing her back hard against the wall under the window. If the cuts from the shards were the only thing she got, she wouldn’t complain.
Nat had moved to the other side of the window and returned fire. Anouk glanced towards the table where the two men had been standing—they both lay dead on the floor, bullet holes in their temples. Whoever was outside had shot them. She felt for the wounded man; he hadn’t wanted to die.
A sweet scent hit her nose. Lily of the valley? She turned her head. In the middle of the room, a greenish gas rose from her bag like a mist.
“Anouk, mask!” Nat barked.
Bloody hell, knockout gas! She fumbled with the mask around her neck with shaking hands. Holding her breath, she fought to get the mask over her mouth and nose. Had she inhaled too much? After what seemed a small eternity, she got the tangled straps open and lifted the mask over her face. She took a deep, slow breath, listening to her body, but no fuzziness crept in.
Nat exchanged shots, risking a glimpse outside. Whoever was giving them a hard time on the other side of the wall forced him to dive back down again. Although Anouk’s heart tried to break through her ribcage and she did her best to become one with the stone wall, she was frustrated. Nat alone kept the thugs at bay. There had to be something she could do.
Footfall came from the small entry. Nat shot a glance at Anouk and cocked his head towards the doorway. Anouk nodded. Yes, it was her job to watch his back, but her katana lay in the middle of the room.
“Shit,” she growled and darted towards her sword, keeping low. Bullets whistled over her head and she barrel rolled across the floor.
She crouched just in time to see the door curtain swinging aside and a man jumping in, firing towards Nat. Nat dropped to his stomach and returned the fire. The attacker dodged sideways, avoiding the bullet by a mere inch, and aimed to shoot again. Anouk lurched towards the man, raising her katana to slice him down. As if sensing Anouk’s attack, he spun towards her and fired.
A sharp tug on her side pulled her off the balance just before she slashed her sword down. The attacker dove under Anouk’s blade, missing it by a narrow margin. With adrenaline pumping in Anouk’s veins, she leapt up again and ignoring the burning sensation in her side, she kept swinging her sword vertically. The intruder jumped backwards, firing again, but his shot went wide, hitting the stone wall.
Anouk snarled and started to press the man with a series of quick cutting motions, but her foot caught an iron pan and she fell flat on her stomach. She pushed her upper body off the floor, but something hard and round pressed on the back of her head. She froze. Oh, double shit! The man was standing over her, resting his gun on the base of her skull.
“She…” the man started, but never finished. A gunshot boomed in the confined space. The man grunted and crumpled on the floor next to his prey. Silence fell over the room.
Anouk stumbled up, her body shaking. She looked at Nat, who peeked outside from the broken window. His shoulder line relaxed and he turned giving a thumbs up. Relief washed over Anouk—it was over, and not a minute too soon.
“I’ll check the bodies,” Nat said.
She nodded, happy to let him do it. She didn’t want to touch them.
Nat knelt next to the man who a minute ago tried to kill his partner. He went through his pockets and patted down the body. Anouk’s stomach flipped, but she managed to hold its content inside. Nat moved to search the other two men. Her stomach protested again so she decided to check the damages to the room to take her mind off it and in case she saw Rose again.
The table and chairs were toppled over, pans and kettles scattered on the floor, three bodies lay sprawled and shards of broken glass were everywhere. What a mess… She knelt down next to her bag and carefully checked its interior. As she guessed, one of the glass globes had taken a hit. After removing the shards, she glanced up. Her jaw dropped; the kerosene lamp was intact. How was that even possible after all the shooting? Not that it was a bad thing. If it had been shot down, it might have caused a fire that would most likely have had devastating consequences.
A hand landed on Anouk’s shoulder and she started—pain stabbed between her ribs. She sucked in air through her mask.
“Did you get hurt?” Nat asked.
Anouk touched her side and looked at her hand. There was blood. When had that happened? Oh, yes, when she tried to slice the intruder in half and he dodged under her blade. So the sharp tug and burning had meant this. How close was the first vital organ and how narrow had her escape been? A few inches? Her head started to spin.
Nat reacted in a split second and made her sit on a chair. She pulled her mask off and took a deep breath, trying to steady her panicking mind. She was alive, she was alive… There was no scent of lily of the valley anymore, just blood. Her stomach lurched and she vomited. Nat jumped aside just in time. Slimy brown half-digested food landed on the spot he had stood a moment ago. Wonderful, Rose would so appreciate this mess.
Nat pulled his mask off; concern creased his face. “Let me check your wound.” He lifted her shirt’s hem. “A flesh wound,” he said, relief in his voice. “I’ll bandage it quickly, and we will treat it properly back at camp. We can’t linger here.”
Anouk nodded. “Yes, let’s leave now. I’ll manage, don’t worry.”
“I know you will.” Nat smiled at her. “We’ll go, but first we take care of your wound.”
Anouk wanted to protest, but gave in with a sigh when Nat pulled a small sachet from his inside pocket. Guess it was better to give first-aid sooner rather than later and avoid possible deadly consequences like blood poisoning. Nat opened the sachet and took a white bandage out.
“You have a first-aid kit with you?”
“Of course. Now, keep the shirt’s hem up.”
Anouk did as he said. Nat’s face frowned in concentration when he pressed a cloth against Anouk’s side and wrapped the bandage around her torso. She couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking, seeing her skin. Was he studying her body the way she had when Vari had treated his wounds?<
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Nat tied the bandage and stood. “That’ll do. Vari will clean it properly later. Let’s go.”
Anouk tucked the hem inside her trousers. “I’ll get to experience that white balm of hers, won’t I?”
Nat grimaced. “Unfortunately.”
“It can’t be that bad.”
“You’ll see.”
Nat checked the street before they stepped out. For the first time Anouk appreciated the stink of The Pits; it overpowered the scent of blood that lingered in her nose. The faint light from Rose’s small window revealed a figure of a man sprawled under it; the other of the two attackers. He looked very dead with a bullet hole in his forehead.
“Wait here.” Nat vanished into the darkness.
Anouk guessed he went to search for the men they knocked out. They were dead as well, she was sure of it—Stalo didn’t leave witnesses nor tolerate failures.
Deciding not to wear the night goggles yet, she turned away. She didn’t need to see their corpses.
After several moments, Nat came back. “Alright, let’s go.”
Anouk lifted the night goggles over her eyes. She made a point not to look back when they headed down the lane, away from the scene. It was quiet as if the whole of The Pits was holding its collective breath, waiting for what would happen next. Anouk’s skin crawled, and she quickened her pace, ignoring the burning pain in her side. Nat must have felt the same because he sped up his pace too. Soon they both ran.
After several blocks they stopped in an alley at the edge of a well-lit and busy road. The clip-clop of hooves, the clatter of wheels and rhythmic beats of steam pistons were like music after the eerily quiet streets of earlier.
Anouk lifted the goggles onto her forehead and glanced at Nat. “The guards were dead, weren’t they?”
“Aye.”
“Of course.” Anouk swallowed. “So, six in total.”
“The man who charged in had a De Meriweth tattoo behind his ear.”
A chill ran down Anouk’s spine. “They’ve found out Rose has been snooping for us. That’s what the other guy meant, right? Do you… do you think she’s now helping Stalo?” She studied Nat’s expressionless face, waiting for his answer and dreading it.
