The Fall of Io

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The Fall of Io Page 17

by Wesley Chu


  Try to avoid killing any of the police if possible.

  Two successive strikes ended both their nights. The officer to her right barely had time to stand before Kloos was on top of him, his hammed fist coming down across the man’s temple. The remaining officer to her left suffered a similar fate when Vitali, one of her bodyguards, picked up a chair and bludgeoned him with it.

  “That is probably too much of an ask in this situation.” She slammed the head of another police officer into the glass wall.

  The rest of the officers outside charged into the room, only to be met by Shura’s entourage. Several pulled out their batons and banged on the glass, causing the interior to vibrate like a roof under a hail storm. There were too many bodies to fight and not enough space to take them all down efficiently. There was only one way out of this room.

  Shura had a fix for that. She grabbed two metal beads the size of her thumb hidden in her belt, and lobbed them at opposite walls. The beads exploded upon impact, cracking the glass as well as filling the room with a red, swirling smoke. A second later, the glass walls on each end shattered, and the choking smoke rolled out into the open area.

  Shura’s bodyguards spread out and attacked the remaining officers, like this had been their plan; as if this had been their ambush all along. Most bodyguards’ jobs were to be meat shields for the ones they protected. Shura’s people did not have to protect her; they were there to fight alongside her and to cover her flank against overwhelming odds.

  Watch your breath count.

  Several officers quickly fell into a coughing fit. Shura held a long breath in her lungs and slowly let it seep out through lightly clenched teeth. Genjix soldiers were trained to fight in this haze, offering them a significant advantage in close combat. She knocked the officers over easily as she mowed through their ranks.

  One officer was stepping over the shattered wall when Shura barreled into him. The two fell, and she rolled to her feet. Shura immediately found herself surrounded. She ducked a swing to the head and sidestepped another to her body. She caught the wrist of a third attack – thrown lazily – and snatched the baton from the fool’s hand then, changing levels, dropped near the floor and upended two of her attackers with blows to the achilles. The third came swinging from up top. Shura parried the blow, slipped in, and slammed her elbow into his face.

  A female officer approached Shura head on, not bothering to sneak up. She brandished two batons, which she banged together in a challenge. Shura offered her a brief nod as she wielded her own baton. She liked this woman’s moxy. The officer came at her with a coordinated flurry meant to overwhelm Shura’s defenses. Hard metal clanged against metal. The woman was good, much more skilled than the boys Shura had just taken out. It almost strained her reflexes to block the strikes. Even then, two got through, one hitting her square on the shoulder and the other glancing off her chin. In another situation, Shura might have tried to recruit this woman. Instead, she waited for a slight opening and charged, jabbing a knee into the woman’s gut, doubling her over. Shura finished her off with a baton blow to the jaw. She glanced down at the badge pinned on the woman’s chest: Amaya 3144. Shura might decide to offer her a job yet.

  Behind you to the left. Going low.

  The warning came too late. A coward attacked Shura from out of the corner of her eye. The most damaging strikes are the ones you never see coming. Almost anyone else would have buckled under that blow. The last-second warning gave Shura just enough time to prepare for it. She moved her weight off one leg just as the baton crushed the back of that knee. The resulting impact swung her leg outward, dampening the damage. Shura allowed the blow to swing her around as she brought the baton whistling down on her assailant’s head.

  The officer, barely into his twenties by the looks of him, only had time to utter a strangled cry before he crumpled to the ground. When Shura put her weight back on her foot, it nearly gave. Grimacing, she raised the baton again to finish him off.

  Shura. Remember what he is.

  The baton came to a stop inches from cracking his skull. Nothing sets off a government like the killing of their law enforcement. She glanced up. The entire area was strewn with broken glass and bodies. Groans and pained cries filled the air. She took quick inventory: only four of her people were standing.

  “Where’s Vitali?” she asked.

  Roxani, another of her bodyguards, walked over to the unmoving body of her fallen man. She looked up and shook her head.

  “Burn his body,” ordered Shura. “What about theirs? Casualty report?”

  “All mine live, at least for now,” said Kloos. The rest of her people offered similar assessments.

  “Good enough. Let’s go.”

  Shura looked at the locked door from which they had come. There was a good chance there was an army of Tokyo police officers waiting for her on the other side, and likely more below. Perhaps there was another way. She went over to the floor-to-ceiling window on the near side of the building and peered over the edge. Her memory of the facility's map told her this was the southwest end, which meant they should be just above the sky bridge connecting to the adjacent building. Sure enough. It was a bit of a drop, but nothing her people couldn’t handle.

  Shura reached into her belt and pulled out another bead. One explosion and several jumps later, the small group had managed to escape the building even as dozens of police cars swarmed around it. They watched as the night was lit up with red and blue lights.

  “What happened, Adonis?” asked Kloos.

  “It appears Rurik got to the police before we did,” she replied.

  “Do you think Abbi betrayed us?” she thought to Tabs.

  Unlikely. Her success now hinges upon yours. A double-cross would reflect poorly upon her.

  “Your orders?” asked Roxani.

  Shura loosed a sigh. “It is only a small setback. We know the Receiver is here in the city. We can clean this up in the morning. We’ll just have to find the girl another way. There are other government resources we can contact for assistance. I have a meeting with the Minister of Defense and the Head of the Public Security Service tomorrow. For now, off to the Ritz. I could use a bath.”

  By morning, the small setback had grown significantly larger.

  The news reported the incident at the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Headquarters as a bombing, a terrorist attack by a Russian separatist group. The city was now on high alert. The Japanese government had officially declared her a terrorist, and Shura was now a wanted fugitive with her photo plastered on every screen. They even gave her a catchy nickname: the Blonde Bombshell Bomber.

  To add grave insult to injury, the reward for information that led to her capture was pitifully small.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Second Score

  Some of the best professors in the world were at Ella’s disposal. She studied everything from languages to hostage negotiations to quantum physics to network security. She also spent hundreds of hours learning a wide variety of physical skills, from hand-to-hand combat to reconnaissance to clandestine tactics.

  Unfortunately, Ella could not grasp even the fundamentals of linguistics, history or political affairs, which are enormously important for field agents. She was not technically savvy, nor was she skilled in math, science or law. To make things worse, she got bored and frustrated easily. It was a miracle and testament to my own coaching and nurturing that she was able to pass any classes at all.

  “Are you sure this is right?” Ella teetered on the tree branch she was perched on and carefully adjusted her balance. She stared at the grounds of the estate on the other side of a low traditional Japanese wall. “This looks like the wrong address.”

  I used to help navigate a living starship that traveled across half the galaxy. I can read maps very well, Ella.

  “Well, it looks wrong. This place looks like a temple or something. Are you sure this is–”

  Stop asking me that. I agree with y
our assessment that this is not the usual sort of mark we hit, but my answer is not going to change.

  Ella gave the venue one last suspicious glance before scampering out of the tree. The other Burglar Alarms were waiting near its base, looking very uneasy as well. Rightly so. They were slightly out of place in Azabu, one of the most affluent neighborhoods in Tokyo.

  “Well?” asked Kaoru.

  “This is it,” said Ella.

  Daiki’s eyes went as large as saucers. “And we’re going to live here?”

  “This is going to be the Burglar Alarms’ new headquarters,” she replied. “You’re still going to be living with your mother.”

  Hinata tilted his head. “If it’s as rich inside as it looks out here, we’re going to be rich.”

  Daiki looked down both sides of the street. “This is a funny place for a secret hideout, no?”

  “Maybe that’s what makes it such a good secret place,” said Lee. “No one will expect it.” He appeared dubious, however.

  “Well, we’re not doing ourselves any favors by sticking around,” said Ella briskly. “Pek, stand watch. The rest of us are going in.”

  “Aww, me again? Why can’t someone else stand watch?”

  “What?”

  “I mean, why me again, Bosu? All I do is–”

  “Because I said so.” She turned to the others. “Just like last time. I’m going to go in and check it out. When I give the all-clear, you guys follow.”

  The outfit exchanged awkward and hesitant glances, and then all crossed their arms at the same time. Ella scowled. They had obviously choreographed that.

  “Not a chance, Ella,” said Lee. “This going in alone thing to keep us out of danger isn’t going to work any more.” The rest nodded in agreement. They didn’t nod in unison, at least.

  They are right. A good leader would actually send an expendable underling in first. Send in Pek. Let him spring the booby trap.

  “Not a chance, Io.”

  For a moment, Ella considered calling the whole damn thing off. Then she remembered what happened at the World-Famous. It was time to learn to trust her Burglar Alarms. “I’ll make you guys a deal,” she offered. “It’s easier for me to move without you oafs clomping after me. I’ll keep my comm open at all times.”

  They eyed her with suspicion, and then retreated to discuss her proposal. Ella felt like she was losing control of the team. Somehow, the Burglar Alarms had evolved from her dictatorship to some stupid form of democracy. For some reason, Ella didn’t seem to mind this new development as much as she pretended, which surprised her.

  Are you actually learning to trust someone? Little Ella is finally growing–

  “Shut it, Alien.”

  The rest of the Burglar Alarms appeared to have come to a consensus. They returned and crossed their arms again in unison like some stupid Korean dance video. “Here’s the deal,” said Lee. “You need to let us know everything is OK. If we don’t hear from you every minute, we’re coming in after you.”

  “Hmm, fine,” growled Ella, her face scrunched up. That was all an act on her part just to save face. “At least stop clustering around the front door looking so obvious.”

  The Burglar Alarms scattered in the most conspicuous way possible, each wandering off on their own in a different direction. Fortunately, the well-to-do inhabitants of this neighborhood were either too polite or couldn’t be bothered to notice. They really could have used that clandestine training from the Academy though.

  The class you barely passed?

  “Passing is passing. It’s like grenades.”

  You had to cheat on the final. If I had not given you all the answers on the multiple choice, you would have missed most of them.

  “I did not cheat! You’re part of me, so using you is not cheating.”

  There was a lengthy pause. Finally, Io spoke. You just said I am part of you. That may be the nicest thing you have ever said to me.

  “Stop rubbing it in,” mumbled Ella. She focused her attention on the security keypad next to the red half-moon-shaped double doors. Then, for the first time, she noticed the small security camera blinking in the corner. She reached for a throwing knife. “I thought you said the security system was off.”

  This location is not live yet. The feed is self-contained on a twenty-four hour recording loop. Mostly just to scare off vandals and girl scouts.

  “What’s a girl scout?”

  Never mind.

  Just in case, Ella partially covered her face from the camera and punched in the code. She was half-expecting this not to work, and was pleasantly surprised when one of the red doors swung inward with a high-pitched creak. She poked her head inside. “It is really nice in here. How did you come by this place again?”

  I told you. Command shut down the underground safe house after your little stunt, and are moving it here. This one will not go live until the security measures are installed, and Command cannot get to that for another four months. In the meanwhile, I see no reason why we cannot use it as your headquarters.

  Ella closed the door behind her and crept inside. She took three steps onto the grounds and felt as if she were transported to some weird alien planet. The estate looked as if it had sprung from a dream or fairy tale, like time had forgotten it existed. It was a picturesque scene of a traditional Japanese house sitting next to a babbling brook just inside the walls. Beautiful cherry blossom trees lined the perimeter, and several large gnarled and twisting oaks dotted the rest of the landscape. It looked very out-of-place nestled here in the center of Tokyo. Ella half-expected a samurai to walk out of that hut.

  Minka.

  “What?”

  Those houses are called minkas, not huts.

  Ella ignored the architectural lesson as she crept across the grounds looking for signs of activity. The interior of the hut – minka – was darkened, and the only sounds she could hear were the gurgle of the brook and the chirping of the birds. She paused behind a boulder and waited. Minutes passed. Still nothing. Ella was about to move closer into the house but something held her back. Her gut was telling her something was off about this place. Truth was, everything felt off.

  Her earpiece buzzed. “Hello Ella? You there?”

  “What is it, Hinata? Everything clear outside?”

  “Yes, Bosu. Just checking in to make sure you’re alive.”

  “You’re supposed to check in every minute,” added Lee.

  “Is it really nice in there?” asked Daiki.

  Everyone began chattering at once, jumbling the comm channel. Now she remembered why she had preferred to keep the thing off. “I need you guys to be quiet,” she hissed.

  A chorus of “sorry, bosu” followed. Ella made her way toward the minka, moving from cover to cover. The peace and calm broke as the chatter slowly grew again. This time Hinata was poking fun at Lee and Kaoru for dating. Daiki and Pek piled on. At least they weren’t focused on her this time.

  Push it out of your mind.

  Ella did her best to do just that. She reached the minka and slowly slid the amado open. It was dark inside, musty. She swept a flashlight across the room. Half of it was empty, and the other half was filled with boxes. Her light rested on a familiar long metal tube leaning in the corner. It was the bazooka, no, the surface-to-air missile launcher.

  To the left are the same supply containers from the underground safe house. The report checks out.

  Ella waited several beats, listening for scraping or breathing or any other signs of life. Failing to pick anything up, she finally crept inside. Her gut was still telling her something was off. It was right more often than not, but perhaps this was one of those times when she was just being too cautious.

  She walked to the adjacent shōji, slid it open, and peered inside. More boxes. She went across to the other end of the room and slid that door open as well. Furniture from the safe house was crammed into the corner and stacked in a pile.

 
Ella continued to the room on the far end. She slid that shōji open. “Hey Burglar Alarms, I think we’re cle–” Her voice trailed off as her body froze. Her eyes bulged, threatening to fall out of their sockets.

  There, standing in the center of a barren room, was Nabin. “Hello, Ella. How are you?” He waved his familiar lackadaisical wave and spoke with his weird American southern drawl that sounded like each of his words was falling down a well.

  Ella opened her mouth. No noise came out. She forgot how to breathe.

  Get out of here. Go, go now!

  A dozen intense and conflicting emotions slammed into her one after the other. Ella did the first thing her heart told her to do. She reached for a throwing knife.

  No time for that. You can stick him another day.

  Nabin’s eyes widened. He threw up his hands. “Whoa, whoa, babe. I just want to talk.”

  “Don’t ‘babe’ me, you self-righteous jerk,” she hissed reflexively. “Especially after what you did.”

  Nabin gave a start. “Me? After what I did?”

  Ella’s hand tightened around the handle of her knife, and she readied her throw. Truth was, seeing him made her heart flutter. Seeing him also made it ache. By Ganesh, she missed his ugly face and his stupid wide smile and the stupid way the ends of his stupid lips almost reached his stupid oversized ears.

  For a moment, fond memories of the only man she ever loved flooded her thoughts. His visits were the only highlights Ella remembered during her tenure at the Academy. She had no family or friends, so all of her spare time and energy were reserved for him. Their brief but passionate relationship had burned hot and bright.

  Damn it, Ella! Stop daydreaming. This is a trap!

  Of course Io just had to be an asshole and ruin the moment by reminding her of all the bad times as well. A series of quick scenes slammed into her head one after another. She relived it all in rapid succession, as if someone was fast-forwarding a movie and stopped at all the worst parts. All those moments when he had brushed her off as a silly girl, saying she was being immature. She wasn’t immature; he was being a stubborn know-it-all. The several times he wasn’t present with her because he was too caught up thinking about duty. The dozens of instances when he ignored her when she needed him. The fights… those dozens of fights.

 

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