by Josh Hayes
Wendy turned, just barely catching sight of the bodyguard disappearing through the first-floor entrance to a red brick housing block. He shook the umbrella out over the steps, then closed the door behind them. When she turned back to find Blondie, he was gone.
She ground her teeth together and cursed under her breath.
"I'm almost in position," Peter said.
Wendy and Ace had to rush to get back into position.
"Come on!" Ace took off at a run, Carter close in tow.
Wendy shot another glance around for Blondie and saw no sign. "Damn it."
The string of brick residence towers had been manufactured quickly and cheaply. The multi-shaded brick each was built from was chipped and crumbling. The door Jukes had entered was situated in the middle of the row at the top of a short staircase. The first-floor windows had been boarded over years ago, and only broken shards of glass and twisted frames remained of the windows above.
As Wendy ducked behind a broken-down transport across the street, she caught a flash of movement at the roof. Peter rolled over the ledge and slid down a cluster of pipes, to a balcony on the fifth floor. His movements were so graceful, so smooth and effortless. He leaned over the metal rail and she heard his voice through the com. "Can you guys see anything?"
"No," Ace told him. "All the windows are covered."
There was a moment of silence and Wendy cursed under her breath. What are you thinking? She had a feeling that whatever it was, she wasn't going to like it.
"All right," Peter said, "hold tight, I'm going see if I can get a better look."
Wendy jumped to her feet as she realized what he planned to do. "Peter, don't you dare do—"
He was over the rail and dropping through the air before she could finish. His feet bounced off the balcony rail on the floor below, sending him into a backward somersault. Wendy's breath caught in her throat as he flipped, grabbed the edge of the balcony and swung down, feet first, through the remains of the third-floor window.
"Damn it, Peter." Wendy ducked down behind the transport. Carter appeared next to her shaking his head, smiling. Wendy pointed a finger at him. "And you encourage him."
Ace held up his hands. "Hey, I'm down here, he's up there."
"What now?" Carter asked.
"We sit tight," Ace told him.
Wendy turned back the abandoned building. "We can't just sit here and do nothing."
"That's exactly what we're going to do," Ace said. "Pan knows what he's doing."
"Oh, come on, Ace, you know as well as I do he doesn't have a plan at all."
Ace answered him, "Move across the street, Michael, you're in the best position to get in there quickly."
"Okay," Peter said, "Michael, how close are you to the front entrance?"
"Twenty feet."
"All right, I've got eyes on. It's just the three of them, I'm pretty sure I can take Jukes and the other one without a problem. Ace, you and Michael jump on Big Ugly. Wendy, Carter, watch our backs. Make sure no one comes in behind us."
"Three?" Wendy said. "Who's the third one?"
"Some blond kid, I don't know. Ace, you ready?"
"Ye—"
Panic shot through Wendy's body. "Blond? Peter, no!"
Peter ignored her. "Go!"
Ace jumped to his feet, leaving their hiding place, ignoring Wendy's shouts for him to stop. She saw Michael in her peripheral, zig-zagging through the crowd toward the apartment's front door. Wendy moved to follow, but hands grabbed her and pulled her back.
"No!" Carter hissed. "We stay put, Pan said! It'll be okay, he's got a plan."
She shook him off. "He always says he has a plan, but he really never does."
Ace and Michael reached the steps one right after the other and bounded up without stopping. Wendy slapped a palm down on the transport truck's flatbed, immediately regretting it as pain shot up her arm. Again, she'd been pushed to the sidelines. She brushed wet strands of hair out of her face, deciding that regardless of how tonight went, she was going to let Peter have it when the night was over. And he would listen this—
"Oh, shit!" Wendy dropped down, peering over the flatbed. "Shit, shit, shit."
Carter leaned close. "What?"
The blond man appeared in a crowd moving across the street a block north of their position. He looked back over his shoulder and picked up his pace, jogging to the far side of the street. When he reached the sidewalk he touched his ear, mouthed something that might have been a curse, then took off at a sprint, heading straight for the door Ace and Michael had just entered.
Without knowing exactly what she was going to do, Wendy jumped to her feet and ran for the door. Horns blared and tired squealed on wet pavement as she ran, barely noticing. Blondie was up the stairs and through the door without giving her so much as a cursory glance. Somewhere in the distance she heard Carter shouting, but couldn't understand the words. She took the stairs two at a time and pulled the pistol from its holster, praying she wasn't too late.
Wendy shouldered through the door and practically fell through the entryway into a large open room, stumbling through several steps before she was able to catch herself. She saw everything at once, but it took her several seconds to actually comprehend what she was seeing.
Blondie stood just a few feet in front of her, looking back at her over his shoulder, his arm raised, a pistol in hand, the weapon pointed directly at Michael's head. Michael also had his pistol out, pointed at the bodyguard, standing five feet way. The bodyguard had two guns up, one pointed back at Michael, the other at Ace. Ace had his pistol aimed at Jukes, who was standing very still, the point of Peter's shiftblade hovering centimeters from his neck. Peter also had his pistol out, aimed at…
Impossible, Wendy thought. Twins?
She looked from the blond man a few feet away and the blond on the far side of the room. Aside from how they were dressed, the two men looked identical, right down to their curly hair.
"Ah," Jukes said. "Finally. I was hoping this sausage-fest would be short-lived. Welcome, little lady, I'd offer you a drink, but…"
"I said shut up," Peter told him.
"Honestly," the blond at the far end said. She realized he'd been the first one she'd seen back at the alcove. Blondie One continued, "You guys need to put down your guns before this gets really nasty."
Ace laughed. "Us? Can't you count? You're outnumbered here, bud. Four to two are horrible odds in any game."
"We're not putting our guns down," Peter said. "We have important business with Jukes here."
"Not until we're through with him," Blondie One said.
"There, you see," Jukes said, still smiling. "It's rude to interrupt business. Though," he gave Peter a confused look, "I don't remember putting either of you on tonight's schedule. Perhaps there's been a clerical error? Oak here is a terrible secretary."
The big man gave Jukes a hurt look. "But—"
"I said shut up," Peter repeated. He looked over his shoulder at Blondie Two. "You guys are making a big mistake here. I'm not sure want you're after, but you're not going to get it tonight."
Blondie Two looked past them all to his twin. "I guess that depends on what you're after, because we're here for him, too." He indicated Jukes with his pistol.
Jukes let out a loud, sarcastic laugh. "For Graft's sake. Honestly, here I was looking forward to a nice cold pale and taking it easy for a night, and it turns out I'm double booked. What a predicament! Well, I would say I'm sorry for the mix-up, but—"
An explosion ripped through the ceiling, and a ten-foot hole appeared as the rest collapsed in a cloud of debris and dust. Ace and Michael only just dove out of the way, and the bodyguard was knocked backward against the far wall. Jukes ducked away, covering his face from the blast, and Peter took several steps back, staying close to the dealer.
A chorus of coughing filled the air as a thick cloud of dust rolled through the room. Wendy looked up through a gaping hole in the ceiling into the floor above. A green li
ght seemed to grow near, brightening as it neared the hole. Tendrils of coherent green light licked down just as two small boots floated down through the opening. Wendy squinted against the bright pulsing light, trying to understand what was happening.
A girl, no more than twelve or thirteen, touched down in the middle of the rubble, a large grin on her face. Her bright blue hair was done up in several thick spikes, pointing out in all directions. She wore a maroon vest over a tight, grey sleeveless shirt, and skin-tight maroon pants, which disappeared into calf-high boots.
She barked a cough.
Blondie One brushed off his jacket. "Subtle."
"Thanks!"
"Oh, screw this!" Jukes said, pushing himself up to his feet.
Peter moved quickly, crossing to Jukes and disarming him with a twist of his hand. "Not so fast."
"Ow!" Jukes cried, grabbing his wrist, dropping to one knee. He looked across the room to his bodyguard. "Oak, do something, you idiot!"
The barrel-chested man was having trouble picking himself out of the rubble. He stepped on something, losing his footing and crashing back down to his knees. Whatever he'd tripped on slid across the floor to Michael, who stopped it with a foot. He picked up the bodyguard's oversized pistol, and examined the weapon.
"Huh, not as heavy as it looks."
The bodyguard stumbled to his feet, reaching for the lost weapon. "That's mine!"
With an effort Michael aimed the pistol. "Easy there, big fella."
"Fucking grab that little bastard and go to work, Oak!"
The bodyguard looked back and forth between his boss and his gun, a mask of confusion and fear on his face.
Jukes tried to pull away from Peter, but failed. "You're all dead. You hear me? Dead. Do you have any idea who you're messing with? Oh, boy, did you pick the wrong house tonight. None of you are going to see the light of dawn, I can guarantee you that."
Wendy crossed the room and, without hesitation, punched him dead in the face. The dealer's head snapped back and his legs collapsed underneath him.
Peter grunted, shifting to hold the unconscious man's weight. "Damn it, Wendy."
The girl burst out into laughter, doubling over, pointing. "Holy crap, that's the coolest thing I've ever seen!"
"You just blew through a floor," Blondie Two pointed out.
She straightened, hands on her hips. "Yeah, I did, didn't I?"
"Okay, enough," Blondie One said. He turned to Peter. "Look, I don't know who you people are, my sister's little pyrotechnic show is sure to have been noticed. I don't know about you all, but I sure don't want to be here when Enforcement shows up."
Peter nodded. "Michael, Ace, help me with Jukes. Carter, we need transportation."
"Got it," Carter said, heading for the door.
The girl cocked her head to the side. "You guys need a ride?"
Chapter Twelve
Then
Bella shivered again, rubbing her hands against her arms in a vain effort to work some warmth back into her body. A thick fog had rolled in, making it impossible to see the bow of the ship. Not that she could see anything without the fog. They'd been on the move for several days now, and she'd given up trying to figure out where they were.
A cluster of deck hands ran by, talking in clipped, excited tones. They began clearing the deck as a second group appeared and started cleaning everything from the gunwales to the deck. They hadn't been this active in days.
"Hey," Bella whispered, reaching over and gently touching her brother's shoulder. He twitched away from her touch and Bella grimaced, hoping she hadn't hurt him. "Tom, wake up."
Tom rolled over slightly, his eyes bloodshot and confused. He spent most of his time sleeping, he needed it, and Bella tried hard not to wake him most of the time. The cut above his eye he'd received during the last session had finally stopped bleeding, though his eye was still swollen shut and dried blood still covered his forehead.
"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked, his voice weak and broken from the pain.
"Something's happening." She nodded to the busy crewmen.
Tom hissed in pain as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. He watched for a moment, then said, "How long have I been out this time?"
"About six hours."
"That's longer than usual."
Bella nodded. "We hit this patch of fog this morning. I guess we're still over the ocean, I haven't seen anything but water for two days now."
Tom reached up, gingerly examining his swollen eye. "Maybe they're taking us somewhere for some rest and relaxation. I think I'm finally wearing them down."
"Tom…"
He shook his head. "It's okay, I don't remember the last session, so it must have gone pretty well."
"It's been getting worse."
"I know."
Everyday two crewmen would take Tom away, question him for hours, then bring him back. Never Bella, they left her alone for the most part--sometimes pushing her when they came for Tom, but they never took her away.
"The only good thing about the sessions is it gets me out of this damn chill for a while," Tom said, rubbing his wrists.
"You'd think they'd give us blankets or something."
Tom laughed. "Hell, sis, they barely give us food, do you think they give a damn whether we're comfortable or not?"
"I'd really like to know where they're taking us."
"Oh, I'm sure wherever it is, we'll have our own personal tour guide to show us around and give us the lay of the land."
Bella laughed. "Maybe a handful of butlers to bring us food on big silver platters?"
"Now you're talking."
Bella pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. "Mmmm, and neverberries and a cold pale." She licked her lips. "Damn, what I wouldn't give for a pale right now."
"Me too. Hey, careful." Tom nodded to an approaching guard.
The man was dressed in Regency black and red. Bella had seen him before: Rogers, the first officer. His jet-black beard sharply contrasted his pale skin. He hadn't been mean to them, but hadn't gone out of his way to be kind either. In fact, he'd seemed to go out of his way to avoid them during the entire trip.
"Get up," Rogers said, motioning for them to stand.
Four Regency Guardsmen, wearing smoke-grey uniforms and body armor, appeared behind him.
"Go to hell," Bella said, then spat through the bars.
Rogers smiled. "Miss Bella, I understand your anger, but trust me when I tell you that cooperation is the best thing you could for yourself. Especially today."
Bella frowned. "Why?"
"Please, just get up. My men can help you if you're unable."
Bella pulled herself to her feet. "I don't need any help. I—"
Bella trailed off as the cloud cover faded. The barge rose above the clouds, and bright sunlight washed over the deck. She raised a hand, squinting against the light. As her eyes adjusted, she glanced out past the bow and her breath caught in her throat.
Several hundred meters away, another ship floated in the sky, its enormous hull dwarfing their small vessel. It was the biggest ship she'd ever seen. The twin-hulled behemoth was easier six times the length of the Revenge, and three times as wide. Several cannon turrets protected the wide deck that connected the two hulls. A huge superstructure rose up from the deck about two-thirds of the way back from the bow, stretching all the way back to the massive engines in the rear. The underside of the hull was covered in thick armor plating, broken only for turret emplacements and clusters of sensors.
Long wings extended out from the control tower at the top of the superstructure, forming a "V". A line of windows wrapped around the front of the tower, looking down over the deck filled with various aircraft.
A pair of sleek fighters shot past their barge, banking high to join two others as they flew past the massive ship.
"It's the Pride," Tom whispered.
Bella turned and helped him up, making sure he had a good hold on the bars before lett
ing him go.
"That's right," Rogers said.
The barge slowed, passing over the edge of the Pride, descending toward the foredeck. It settled onto its landing struts a minute later; then Rogers and the guards escorted Bella and Tom off the barge to the deck below.
A platoon of Regency soldiers awaked them, standing in formation, forming two lines leading to a hatch at the base of the superstructure.
Rogers motioned for them to stop about halfway across the deck.
The hatch opened, and a tall figure stepped out. In an instant Bella knew who it was.
Hook walked with a slight limp. His black Regency uniform was trimmed in red and his red cape billowed in the wind as he made his way toward them. Bella cringed at the sight of his mechanical arm, its oversized metal fingers opening and closing as he walked.
"Ah, finally we meet the ingenious Bella and the fearsome Tom," Hook said, stopping a few feet from them. He pointed one of his long mechanical fingers. "You two have been a considerable thorn in my side for quite some time."
"Glad to hear it," Bella said, forcing herself to stand tall.
"Such a firecracker," Hook said. "I'm honored to have you aboard my ship. She's beautiful, isn't she?"
"Oh, lovely."
"I'm glad you like her; she is my pride and joy, after all. I do hope you enjoy your stay with us."
"I hope you die a long and painful death."
"Yes, well, I'm sure you're not the only one who shares those sentiments."
"What do you want?" Tom asked, pulling against the guard holding him up.
"A great many things, my friend. Not the least of which is the location of your friends. I would very much like to meet the fascinating Wendy I've heard so much about."
"If you think we're going to tell you that, you're dumber than you look," Bella said.
"Indeed," Hook said with a smile. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that, of course. I would've hoped for a little bit of cooperation. But, alas, perhaps that was too much to hope for. We will talk later. Some time on the Pride may help you reconsider your position."
"I doubt that."
"We will see, young lady. We will see. Take them to the Pits, Commander. I'm sure our guests will have a change of heart once they see what becomes of people who don't cooperate."