Now what?
She couldn’t carry the case around while she was hunting for Garrett, but she was still close to the exit. Perhaps she could tuck the blueprints somewhere near the door.
How much time did she have left?
Maeko ducked back out of the office, her heart in her throat. The guard could be anywhere. Nerves prickled like knives along her spine as she padded back to the sleeping quarters and tucked the case behind the cabinet by the door. That done, she moved back into the main hall and turned left at the intersection again. Right would be faster according to what she remembered of the map, but it made sense that the guard might be following a consistent route around the building, in which case she’d be more likely to run head on into him if she went to the right. Her plan assumed that he was the only active patrol, but this part of the prison didn’t have that many prisoners in it, according to Wells. As long as too much hadn’t changed, there was a good chance they wouldn’t be wasting manpower putting extra patrols in these halls.
She made her way around through the halls to the back corner of the building where there was a run of better furnished cells, with thick mattresses on the cots, as well as actual mirrors and sinks. These weren’t cells for regular criminals. They were cells for the Lits special guests. The first two were empty and didn’t look as if they’d been used at all yet. The third was occupied by a stocky man with arms thick as her whole body. He was sitting on the cot staring at his big hands when she padded into view.
For a long moment, the man stared at her with a furrowed brow as though wondering if he were hallucinating. Then he stood and hurried to the front of the cell.
“Who are you? How’d you get in here?”
Maeko put a finger to her lips, glancing toward a hallway that intersected this one a few cells down.
He lowered his voice. “You have to let me out of here.”
She looked him over. He could be an innocent victim like Garrett. He could just as easily be a dangerous criminal who had some skills that earned him a better place in the prison.
“Why are you here?”
“I’ve been assisting Garrett. Doing the heavy lifting for his assembly work the most part.”
Looking at the bulging musculature under his shirt, that was easy to believe. It also didn’t exonerate him of any possible criminal status. In fact, with a plethora of prisoners to choose from, being strong wasn’t the kind of skill they would have had to go recruiting for.
“How’d you get in here?”
He folded his thick arms and scrutinized her. “You the judge?”
She scowled back at him. It wasn’t so scary with the bars between them, but memories of Hatchet-face sent a little shudder through her.
“I’m a small female trying to execute an improbable rescue alone in a prison full of people who would be happy to see me dead. I can’t afford to be cavalier about this.”
He gave a soft chuckle. “I can’t argue with that logic. What do you want to know?”
“What will you do if I let you out? Will you fight for the Lits?”
His immediate glower was enough of an answer, but he also said, “I’d never fight for those blighters.”
“Will you hurt people?”
His eyes jumped up and he tensed as another voice spoke behind her.
“You really don’t know when to quit, Rat.”
Maeko spun so fast she almost fell over her own feet. Her gut dropped to her knees as she trained her gun on Tagmet.
He raised his own gun. “How in the bloody hell did you get in here? No. I don’t care. I’m more interested in how you think you’re going to get out. From where I’m standing, your odds don’t look so good.”
Maeko moved back, keeping her gun level as he followed her forward into the hall. “You don’t have to do this. You let me go once before.”
There was something almost like pity in his grimace. His eyes said he might regret what he was about to do, but he would still do it. “I’m not a nice man, Rat. I haven’t got much in my life. My wife died five years ago. Now all I’ve got is my job and I believe in doing my job right. Once, I failed at my job and let you and those worthless Pirates get away. I’ve been kicking myself every day since then. I will not fail to do my job again.”
She couldn’t shoot him. Even if her conscience didn’t reject the idea of shooting anyone, there was the added complication that a gunshot would wake the other guard. But Tagmet didn’t know she knew about the other guard. As long as he didn’t know she knew about the other man, he might believe she would use the gun. Of course, he could always tell her about the other man.
Almost as if he’d followed her train of thought Tagmet smirked at her gun. “You don’t want to shoot that. You’ll draw out the other guards in the building.”
Guards plural? Was he bluffing, or did they have more company than she realized. She glanced to the prisoner who gave a small shake of his head and held up one finger.
Tagmet lunged toward him with the gun and the prisoner flinched back, his eyes narrowing.
“You aren’t irreplaceable, Hugh,” Tagmet growled in warning.
Something flashed in the prisoner’s eyes, a hatred so intense that Maeko caught a shout of warning on her lips as he lunged in turn, his thick arm darting between the bars with a surprising fluidity. He caught Tagmet’s wrist in a grip so strong that the Lit officer dropped the gun and reached for his hand, his face twisting with pain. He had no time to do anything else before he was jerked into the bars with a clang of impact that made her wince. Then Hugh twisted him around, wrapping one arm around his throat and pinning him against the bars.
Tagmet’s eyes started to water. His face turned red, a lump already rising on his head from the impact with the bars. Maeko lowered her gun and started toward him, not quite sure what she meant to do. She stopped when he lashed out at her with one desperate hand.
“Please, Hugh,” Maeko said softly. She used his name to appeal to his humanity. “Please don’t kill him.”
The prisoner’s strength showed in how easily he kept the officer pinned there despite his struggles. He gave her an irritated grimace.
“Why the bloody hell not? He’d have killed you, and he’s taken more than his share of pleasure in tormenting those of us on the wrong side of the bars.”
“Please,” she repeated, remembering in vivid detail the officers who died when she freed Hatchet-face. “There is enough blood on my hands.”
Tagmet’s struggles were growing weak.
“This blood wouldn’t be on your hands girl.”
“It would though. He never would have been so careless if not for me.”
“That was his mistake, not yours.” Something in his eyes softened though and he clenched his teeth as though the decision he was about to make distressed him. Tagmet fell limp against his arm and the man immediately released him, letting him drop with an unceremonious thud to the floor. Maeko stared at Tagmet for several seconds until she saw the faint rise and fall of his chest.
She nodded and looked at Hugh with a measure of sincere gratitude. “I need to find Garrett.”
He gestured down the hall with one hand. “He’s in the luxury suite at the end of the row.”
They regarded each other for a long scrutinizing moment and Maeko glanced from the cell lock down to Tagmet and back again.
“Tell you what. Let me out and I’ll act as your bodyguard until you’re out of this place.”
“Then what?”
“If we get out alive, I’ll go find my daughter in Norwich and see about finding some honest work.”
“Swear?”
He nodded. “Been meaning to get straight for a long time, but the money they were offering was too good to pass up. Almost died last time, though. Would have if the Lits hadn’t broken things up.” Hugh paused, perhaps considering the irony. “I’m done with that work.”
Maeko took out the Allkey and set him free.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Maca
k had almost struggled his way free of the satchel when someone moved it from outside. After a bit of fumbling, it opened and he found himself looking into the face of one of Her boys. The taller one with the lighter hair. Chaff, She had named him. The boy didn’t look all that happy to see Macak who, for his part, was rather uncharacteristically chuffed to see him. Help had arrived.
“Where’s Maeko?” That was Her other boy, the younger and shorter of two. Ash. The one she seemed less inclined to mate with.
Macak stepped out into the open and peered up at his rescuers. They weren’t the most inspiring saviors, but they would have to do.
“She isn’t feeling very optimistic about her chances if she left the cat behind.”
“Macak,” Chaff corrected. Macak didn’t know many of their sounds, but he recognized his name and rubbed against the boy’s leg in appreciation. It was encouraging to see that one of them could be taught. “We need to find her.”
“But where do we start?”
Whatever they were chattering about, it was time to intervene. They needed to find his girl and they needed to do it fast. Hostility hung over this place like a thick London fog and somewhere, his girl was swimming through it. These two weren’t nearly as good at communication as She was, but they were all he had to work with.
Macak made the leap, instinctively making special calculations for his metal leg, and landed on Ash’s shoulders. The boy startled so violently that he couldn’t stick the landing, but he’d expected some reaction along those lines and managed a decent landing back on the ground. When he looked up, he thought Chaff might have been shot the way he was doubled over with one hand on his gut and the other pressed over his mouth. But the shorter boy’s incensed look and the humor radiating off Chaff told him something entirely different was going on. His tail twitched with a fresh spark of impatience.
“That wasn’t funny,” Ash grumped.
Chaff moved his hand from his mouth, sucking in a deep breath to get control. “Oh, yes it was. You jumped like you’d been shot.”
“Out here, it’s a real risk. I think Macak is trying to tell us something,” Ash said, his tone sullen. “You think he could show us where she is?”
“Well, he’s found her before with worse odds.”
Both boys turned to stare down at him. He stared back at them, tail twitching a bit faster now, and meowed.
“All right mate, we’re counting on you. Show us the way.” Chaff gestured toward the building.
Macak didn’t hesitate. Human speech was a garbled mess, but the gesture was clear enough. He turned and struck out around the building, following the tracks that smelled most recently of Her, moving slow and careful, wary of their many enemies. As a cat, it wasn’t all that hard to go unseen and, even when he was seen, he was oft ignored, though he couldn’t count on that here. Now he had followers to consider. If his girl was in trouble, as She often was, he might need these two, if for no other reason than to open doors, so he needed to keep them intact long enough to get Her out safe.
He was pleased to find that the boys took things seriously. They’d fallen silent and were keeping their postures low and alert as they followed him. Ash didn’t move with the almost catlike fluidity that Chaff did, but Chaff was a creature of the wild streets. Like Macak himself, he’d grown up needing to be unseen more often than not. Ash had learned much in his time with the girl, but he was still a domesticated creature. He was strong though, and he cared deeply for Her, so he made up in those traits for what he lacked in street proficiency.
When they got to the door, the lanky thief crouched down next to it, placing one hand on Macak’s back as though to keep him still while he cautiously turned the handle. For a second, Macak was tempted to move away from the presumptuous touch. It was comforting though, in a moment when his little belly was wound in knots of fear for what might happen to his girl. She’d been awash with sorrow and dread when She left him. He knew those feelings. She didn’t think She would be coming back. But She was his and he was Hers and he wasn’t going to lose Her now. It had taken too long to find Her.
He sniffed the air coming from the building when Chaff cracked the door open. He could smell Her. He could smell others too. Angry others, drowning in their own malcontent. They stank and two of them he had smelled before. He and the two boys would have to be extra careful here. She was most definitely in danger though, so they would have to split caution with haste.
They moved into the building together. Macak started to move ahead, then stopped. There were two others nearby. One smelled of sleep. He could hear the snoring to confirm it. The boys were waiting, watching him. He cocked his head toward the sound of the snoring and Chaff mimicked the movement, holding a finger to his lips in some signal to Ash. After a moment, he nodded and pointed toward the doorway just ahead of them.
“Someone’s sleeping in there,” he whispered to Ash.
Satisfied that they were aware of the danger, they began moving, walking as soft as they could in their boots. Macak led the way, the stench of a familiar foe stinging his nose. His hackles began to rise the closer they got to the crossing hall. The foe was in that hallway and he wasn’t moving. He was waiting. Waiting for Her perhaps. Waiting for them if he had heard them enter. He stank of cruelty tinged with anticipation.
Macak stopped moving and the boys stopped as well.
How was he supposed to warn them about an enemy who wouldn’t betray his presence?
He stared up at Chaff who was closest, hackles up and tail twitching madly. Chaff looked down at him and he glanced to the right, the direction in which their foe waited, then up at the boy. Chaff stroked the fur down on his back, his smile full of a dreadful understanding. He pulled his left arm awkwardly in close to his chest, his hand in front of his face, and nodded at Macak. He then made a few gestures to Ash, hand held up flat followed by three fingers. Ash nodded. Chaff stepped out into the hallway.
Several shots rang out, intermixed with the clang of bullets striking metal. Ash ran out into the hallway then and Macak went with him. There was a whirring and clacking sound and suddenly a gun was poking out of Chaff’s left sleeve, trained on their opponent who had his own gun pointed back at them out of his own false arm. It was the man She had named Hatchet-Face, though the metal arm was new.
Hatchet-Face sneered at them. “You’re not who I was waitin’ for.”
In his other hand, he was holding a briefcase.
“You’re not who we were looking for, so I guess we’re even,” Chaff answered.
Ash inched closer and Hatchet-Face shifted his gun. He set down the briefcase and drew a second weapon from under his ratty jacket. Ash stopped moving.
“You’re not a Lit guard,” Chaff observed.
Macak moved over by Ash’s feet and sat, ready to react in a moment’s notice. This was not his area of expertise, however. These were the affairs of humans that went on above the head of a cat. For the short term, he would wait to see how things unfolded. He could sense the unpredictability in their opponent. They would all be better off if he didn’t move around too much and irritate the man.
“I’m the hired help. Let out of my cell for good behavior.” He smirked and Macak suspected that, if the dreadful man had a tail, it would never stop twitching. “Hired to keep things in order. I don’t recall you being part of that order.”
“We don’t want any trouble,” Ash offered.
Hatchet-Face chuckled. “If that were true, you wouldn’t be here.”
Macak stood and pressed into Ash’s leg, trying to draw his attention to the sound of someone approaching from behind them. It was too late to do much of anything about it though. The gunshot had woken the sleeping man.
“Welcome to the gathering,” Chaff said, turning slightly toward the newcomer, though he didn’t move his eyes off of Hatchet-Face. Macak agreed with him on who was the greater threat, but the new man also had his gun out, trained on Chaff.
“What’s going on here?”
“You folks must be rather desperate for recruits, fitting a cracked bludger like him with a gun,” Chaff said, still talking aside to the new man.
“Wasn’t my decision,” the new man answered.
Whatever he’d said, it was the wrong thing. Hatchet-Face narrowed his eyes and moved one of the guns. Another shot fired, deafening in the small space, making all of them jump. Behind them, the new man’s eyes widened, red blooming at his throat. He dropped his gun and toppled, making a few wet choking sounds before he fell silent. Red began pooling around his head and shoulders.
The fear coming from the boys increased, thickening the air around them. In the silence that fell, Macak heard the faintest sound of breathing coming from a side hall behind Hatchet-Face. He lifted his nose to the air, detecting the faint scent of three more individuals. One was unfamiliar. Another he hadn’t smelled in some time. The third he recognized with a delight that settled his fur and turned his tail to twitching for an all new reason.
Hatchet-Face looked at the man he had killed and shrugged, smiling at Chaff. “I guess you were right about me. Who’s next?”
A bludger every bit as big and intimidating as Hatchet-Face stepped around the corner. Something caught Hatchet-Face’s attention, perhaps a shift of someone’s eyes, and he turned, swinging the gun that had been trained on Ash around behind him. Ash didn’t hesitate. The moment the gun was moved, he sprinted in, lunging and grabbing Hatchet-Face’s arm. He managed to twist the wrist of his hand enough that he dropped the gun.
His girl entered the hall then and Hatchet-Face broke his arm free from Ash while he swung the arm with the built-in gun around, not toward Ash, but toward Her.
Macak sprinted in and leapt, catching hold of the flesh arm and digging in with claws and teeth. He tasted blood and hatred and vengeance. Hatchet-Face roared and shook the arm hard. Macak quickly began losing his grip. The bludger swung his arm and sent Macak flying, but not before he left long bloody runnels in his flesh. Macak twisted, hitting the wall feet first and bounced away, twisting again to land neatly on all fours. He looked back in time to see Hatchet-Face’s other arm, the metal one with the gun, swing out. He caught Ash a solid blow to the face with one meaty fist. Blood sprayed through the air as Ash spiraled away and slammed into the wall.
The Girl and the Clockwork Crossfire Page 18