by Mel Odom
She looked at me. “Just stick to cover—and keep close. There’s a door down the street that leads to a back alley. That’s our exit point.” Her voice hardened. “You fall behind, you get left behind.”
She started to head out, but gunfire from a cop crouched down behind a police motorcycle ahead of us drove her back to cover. Duncan and I concentrated fire on the cop. I’d wondered if firing on a brother officer would be a problem for Duncan, but evidently he’d figured out that we were on somebody’s hit list too.
While we kept the motorcycle cop pinned, Is0bel and Gobbet hot-footed it up behind the car where we were.
A cop on the other side of the street unlimbered a grenade launcher and popped a round that landed just behind us. All of us took damage from the shrapnel, scratches and cuts that wept blood, but at least weren’t pouring. Recovering from the blast, I spotted a policeman coming up along our back trail. I pointed him out to Duncan and swung my sights on the guy with the grenade launcher.
I squeezed off a couple rounds and put him down while Gobbet took out the motorcycle cop with a single burst from her submachine gun. Duncan put both his shots into the cop behind us, then got hit by a heavy caliber round from the sniper, who clearly hadn’t given up the field yet. Duncan’s armor had held, but he staggered with the impact and dropped to his knees to recover. He glanced at me.
“I’m good,” he croaked as he flexed his arm to work out the agony he had to be feeling. The heavy armor was bulletproof, but getting shot still felt like getting worked over with a sledgehammer.
Then I noticed the police drones hovering just behind the parked cars, and realized the sniper I’d seen probably wasn’t tied to a rooftop and was more than likely a drone as well. They looked sleek and lethal, floating ball shapes as large as a man, outfitted with police lights, and equipped with heavy ordnance.
This just kept getting better.
“I can help with the drones!” Is0bel yelled. “Cover me!”
While I blasted at the cops behind two police cars facing each other to block the street, the decker sprinted up to the police motorcycle fifty meters ahead of us. Turned sideways, the bike absorbed shots and kept her protected. If she’d been human-sized, she wouldn’t have stood a chance.
She jacked her deck into the onboard computer. She worked only a few seconds, and the police drones’ lights flickered as they immediately powered down.
Knowing they were in trouble, the cops behind the cars redoubled their efforts to keep us pinned down. I had no doubt that reinforcements were on the way.
Taking advantage of the suppressive fire Duncan was laying down, I sprinted closer to the police line. One of them turned and gestured, and I knew something bad was coming. That familiar prickle at the back of my neck ignited just before a shimmering shape with a hint of red manifested behind the cop. I tried to back off, but the cop gestured again and I was suddenly moving in slow motion, feeling like I was trapped in concrete.
The spirit darkened to the color of ash and threw a fireball at me. I barely avoided a direct hit, but I still got singed by some of the flames and the heat. Burning, unable to duck away, I choked down a scream and tried to bring up my rifle.
From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Gobbet sprinting across the street to a dumpster. She made a few wild passes as the fire spirit wound up for another fastball. I dodged again, and this time managed to get out of the way, but the cop’s service pistol round hammered between my shoulder blades. My body armor blocked the shot, but I still went down hard enough to knock the breath out of me as a second fireball streamed over my head.
I rolled, trying to find cover.
On the other side of the street, Gobbet’s casting was answered by a pale blue entity made of water. At her gesture, the spirit tracked the one serving the cop, closing in for battle.
“Stay down!” Duncan roared as he raced toward me. The assault rifle chugged rounds as he fired at the cop. “Stay down!”
I beat at the flames clinging to my armor, afraid to breathe because I knew I’d smell my flesh cooking. Moving hurt. The fire hurt. But I couldn’t just lie down and quit. That had never been my way.
One of Duncan’s rounds clipped the policeman and put him down, but didn’t kill him because then the fire spirit would have become untethered at that point. Then Duncan was next to me, beating out the flames on me with his bare hands. He called my name.
“I’m okay,” I wheezed, but I knew I wasn’t. Still, I got up when he pulled me to my feet.
Gobbet’s spirit closed on the police. Hurting and disoriented, I watched the battle as shimmering forces collided. Flames winked out, and water hissed into clouds of steam. A moment later, the fire spirit collapsed into a sodden heap and faded away.
Duncan helped me run to the alley Gobbet led us toward. He paused only a moment to put a final round through the police conjurer’s head, ending anything else he might have been preparing to unleash. Is0bel trailed after us, doing the best she could with her short legs.
Another police line waited behind a barricade at the far end. Bullets split the air around us, occasionally thudding hard against our armor, but we reached the doorway Gobbet opened and entered a second after she disappeared inside.
Chapter 9
Contingencies
I was half out of it from the burns and the narco slap-patch Duncan placed on the side of my neck. I remember some of the twists and turns of the alleys and subbasements Gobbet led us through, but I have to admit that a lot of those memories are missing. I was in agony and junked up with narcotics at the same time.
Finally, somewhere in there, we stopped beside a water tank that smelled like sewage. I remember thinking that it was a hell of a place to die, and that I still didn’t know why the old man had summoned us all to Hong Kong. Or where the stories about Kowloon Walled City fit in.
Nightmares drummed inside my skull, pulling out old memories and mixing them with the uncertainty of the now.
“Put him down,” Gobbet said.
Reluctantly, Duncan did as he was told.
The cold floor felt amazing to me, like I was on fire but lying on an ice floe at the same time. Moisture and mold clung to the rough stone walls. Dust and cobwebs filled the corner, and from the layer over the floor, I knew no one had been here in a long time.
With a look of concentration, Gobbet sat down cross-legged beside me. She sang and hummed and rocked in place. The rats danced on her shoulders and I spotted dozens of tiny eyes darting in the darkness. We weren’t alone. We were among Gobbet’s friends.
The thought struck me as inordinately funny, and I couldn’t help laughing. But maybe that was the effect of the narcotics.
Duncan glanced at me with a worried scowl. “Is he gonna be all right?”
“He’s going to be fine,” Gobbet said. “And once I’m finished with him, I’ll take care of you.”
“Just make sure you take care of him.”
I tried to tell him I was fine, but I couldn’t speak. Then Gobbet touched me and I was certain my whole body had become a pyre. I screamed and blacked out.
When I awoke sometime later, I felt a lot better. Moving slowly, expecting the pain to hit me at any moment, I glanced around at the basement we’d ended up in. The water still stank, but I was no longer on fire.
A low-wattage lamp, hung with quick-adhesive in a corner, cast a dim glow over the room. Duncan and Is0bel slept on the stone floor nearby.
I reached for my pistol, but a soft hand caught mine. I followed it up the arm that led to Gobbet.
“Feeling better?” she asked with a smile.
“Yeah.” Then I noticed I had no burn wounds. “You healed me?”
“I did.” She looked tired. “You were burned pretty badly.”
“Thanks.” That seemed small to offer in way of payment, but it was all I had.
“You’re welcome, but don’t think you’re off the hook. I’m depending on you and your friend to help keep me and my friend alive.” Go
bbet’s features twisted into a sour look. “Whatever that old man got us into, it cost Nightjar and Gutshot their lives. I don’t want to die too. They were the only people I trusted other than Is0bel, but now I gotta trust you. Do you understand?”
“Yeah. But I don’t have any idea what this is about either.”
“We’re going to find out. Somebody has to pay for Nightjar and Gutshot. Somebody will pay.” She smiled at me, but there wasn’t any humor there. “For now, you need to sleep.”
She touched my forehead with a fingertip, and the blackness welcomed me back.
When I woke up again, the others were already up and moving. I looked at Duncan’s hands and saw they were fine, like he’d never burned them putting out flames on my body.
I got to my feet.
“About time, sleepyhead,” Duncan said as he slung his rifle under his coat. “You don’t get to laze away the day.” Pain still shone in his eyes, but I didn’t mention it.
I gathered my gear. “I suppose no one followed us.”
“Not many people know these paths,” Gobbet said. “Certainly no law enforcement.”
I guessed she wasn’t counting Duncan. Or maybe she doubted he’d ever find his way out of the maze without her. I certainly couldn’t have.
“Anybody know our next move?” I asked.
The thin veneer of control holding Duncan together cracked and threatened to give way entirely. He stamped his boots through pools of water.
“This is bullshit!” he roared. “I’m done messing around in alleys and sewers! I’m done running from cops!” He slapped a hand against his big chest. “For fuck’s sake, I am a cop!”
“We noticed,” Gobbet said in an even voice.
“A Lone Star sergeant is dead back there, damn it!” His words came out so raw, it sounded like razor blades were stuck in his throat. “She was—”
Words failed him. I felt bad for him. I wanted to say something, but I didn’t have any words for something like that.
Duncan took a breath. When he spoke again, he was calmer, but I knew he was burning with rage. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on with the Hong Kong cops, but I’m calling in some Lone Star backup from home! I’m gonna get some of my own people down here! Then we’re gonna find Raymond and find out what the hell’s going on!”
“Whatever you say, big guy,” Gobbet said. “You have fun with that.” She looked over at Is0bel. “If that’s your plan, Is0bel and I are out of here.”
The dwarf nodded.
“Best of luck finding your friend,” Gobbet said.
I remember how she’d told me she and Is0bel were going to be depending on us. I knew Duncan was hurting too, and he was reaching for the best tools he had available. But I definitely didn’t want to invite Lone Star into this either. Staying small was the best thing.
I’d win Duncan over, but I needed local intel too, and Gobbet and Is0bel were the only two people we knew here.
“He’s not our friend,” I told her. “He’s our foster father.” With the way she felt about her lost comrades, I thought the family angle might play best.
“And he’s probably a dead man by now.” She rested her flat gaze on me. “Sorry, but it’s the truth.”
Given how everything had turned out for us, she was probably right. But I couldn’t let it go. That old man, cantankerous as he had been, had given me a second shot. I owed him for that, and I owed him for taking care of Duncan, too.
Duncan stalked away and pulled out his Lone Star comm.
“Hey, Duncan,” I said. “Maybe we can hold off on calling in the cavalry until we get some more intel.”
He continued ignoring me, then stopped and stared at the screen. “What the hell? I’m locked out of the network. My law enforcement status has been revoked.”
That wasn’t a real surprise to me. Whoever was dogging our tracks had a lot of power, and wasn’t shy about using it. Whoever it was worked fast, too.
He glanced up at me, looking shocked. “I don’t believe it. This says there’s an APB out on us. You and me both.”
I spoke slowly, so he would get it the first time. So Gobbet and Is0bel would get it, too. “Every cop in Hong Kong’ll be after us now.”
Duncan nodded. “You’re damn right they will.” His chest rose as he took in a deep breath. “Fucking hell.” He clenched his fist around his comm. “This just keeps getting worse.” Then he hurled it at the wall.
The device hit the stone and bounced back at his feet. The cracked case and sparking electronics told me it was done. Which was good, because I was surprised someone hadn’t used it to track us already. I didn’t know if I could convince him to get rid of it.
Gobbet raised her eyebrows and mouthed okay to herself. She glanced back up at me. “And on that note, I think it’s time for us to say goodbye.” She turned to her friend. “C’mon, Is0bel, let’s—”
The decker wasn’t listening, though. She walked to Duncan’s broken comm, raised her boot, and smashed it down on the device. She repeated it again and again, till circuit boards and wiring bled from the thing.
“Police issue,” she said, letting me know she and I were on the same wavelength now. “They can trace you through that.” She held her hand out to me. “Yours, too. It’s on the network.”
I handed my comm over. “Well, there go all my free upgrade points.”
After she’d smashed it, too, she reached inside her coat and brought out two more, holding them out to Duncan and me. “Burners. I suppose it’s the least we can do after your help back there.”
“Thanks.” I took one of them. “You people always keep a supply of burners in your pockets?”
“Runners need to be prepared for contingencies,” Gobbet said. “Isn’t that right, Is0bel?”
By that time, Is0bel had taken out her own comm and was busy typing. The bluish light from the screen made her look like a child even though I knew she wasn’t. Then horror pulled at her features.
“Gobbet! We gotta go!” The decker shoved her device into her friend’s face to show her the screen. “They’re after us, too!”
Chapter 11
“We Need To Get Your SINs Burned”
Four pictures showed up on the device. My face was in the upper left quadrant. The other three people in the basement were there, too. The images on the screen looked like they were having better times than we were.
The image of an Asian female newscaster filled the screen a heartbeat later. She spoke in a business tone that somehow conveyed a sultry undertone. “—and in breaking news, last night Hong Kong port authorities were involved in a firefight with members of a terrorist cell linked to the mainland city-state of Henan. The battle left three terrorists dead, along with an unconfirmed number of Hong Kong police officers.”
My image showed again for a brief moment, followed by one of Duncan in his younger days. Judging from the Mohawk and ganger tattoos, which had to have been temporary, the old man hadn’t had a complete cakewalk while raising him.
“Our sources report that Seattle native Duncan Wu, along with his Hong Kong accomplices, is still at large. They are well-armed, and should be considered extremely dangerous.”
Images of Gobbet and Is0bel popped up next.
“Oh, shit,” Gobbet whispered in disbelief as the color drained from her face.
“Kowloon officials,” the reporter said when she was once more on the screen, “report that the terrorist cell known as the White Star maintains ties to the state of Henan, and is purported to be receiving weapons and funding from anti-corporate groups in the UCAS city-state of Seattle.”
It was a neat frame job. Duncan and I had roots in Seattle that couldn’t be disputed.
“Port authorities are on high alert,” the reporter went on, “and the Hong Kong Police Force’s Special Duties Unit has been engaged to deal with the threat. We now go live to Chief Inspector Krait of the Special Duties Unit, who will be making a statement.”
Her image was replaced by that o
f a hard-faced woman suited up in combat gear. Her black hair was pulled back, giving her face an even more angular appearance. Standing in a mob of reporters waving recording devices under her nose, she did not look happy.
“We have yet to ascertain the motive for tonight’s attack,” she said.
Right. Because we didn’t attack those cops.
“But it was clearly a well-planned and coordinated effort.” Krait’s eyes narrowed and she pushed one of the devices out of her face. She sounded smooth, practiced, and I wondered how long she’d been preparing this little speech. “We have already issued an All Points Bulletin as well as a Kill or Capture order for the four remaining terrorists, and I have instructed the Special Duties Unit to make this manhunt a top priority.”
Gobbet cursed beneath her breath.
“If you should see one or more of these individuals,” Krait said, looking straight into the camera, “do not attempt to engage them. Instead, tap in the HKPF flash code at the bottom of the screen. If you are on an authorized network and take a picture, our system will automatically identify them in your datastream—”
Unleashing a stream of profanity, Is0bel flicked off the feed. She clipped her comm to her belt while Gobbet tried to regain her equilibrium.
Sewage gurgled and pulsed through the pipes around us, and I couldn’t help but think it perfectly underscored our chances of getting out of our present predicament alive.
“I thought we were fucked before,” Duncan said, “but now we are well and truly fucked.”
I replied automatically. “We’ll deal with it, Duncan. We always do.”
He shook his head. “Not this time. They’ve labeled us terrorists, and there’s an APB out on us. I’ve heard this kind of announcement before. I know what comes with it. It doesn’t matter if we have nothing to do with that whatever city-state. They’re gonna hunt us down. It’s open season.”
Is0bel kicked the busted pieces of Duncan’s comm. “And we’ll be hunted down right alongside you.”
