by Wesley Chu
Roxani checked the Penetra scanner again. “There are still six signatures in the building, including you. Two on the ground floor moving toward the back of the building. Two more together on this level near the western stairwell. There is also a lone signature four rooms over.”
There was little chance Rurik would stray far from the Receiver unless the girl had managed to evade him. It was worth checking out. Shura reloaded her pistols and slowly pushed the heavy metal door open a sliver. The hallway was empty and absent of sound. She closed her eyes.
Rapid breathing just on the other side.
Shura shoved the door open hard and wide, and was rewarded with resistance and a muffled cry. She swept her arms out and encountered two police officers laying in ambush. A rifle swung close to her face. She dodged and swept her right arm out, parrying the barrel of the rifle away with the pistol in her right hand. She punched two slugs into the police officer’s chest, and then shoved the falling body aside. She turned to kick the rifle out of the hand of the remaining officer, and then put another bullet from each pistol into his chest.
Roxani came out into the hallway and looked down at the two bodies. One of the officers was still moving, so she finished him off with another shot. She checked the scanner and pointed in the other direction. “This way.”
Shura and Roxani found the source of the signature in the corner stall of a men’s restroom. A young yakuza, looking more boy than man, huddled in a fetal position next to the toilet with his arms wrapped around his knees. He wore a thousand-mile stare as he rocked back and forth. Incoherent mutters dribbled out of his lips. Shura put a hand on the young man’s forehead.
It is Mammay.
That had to mean Sogolov, Rurik’s head of security, was dead. The world – and the Genjix – were better for it. Sogolov was a brutal man who had tortured and killed several of Shura’s troops over the years. Her fingers twitched. There were no windows and one exit out of the room.
Do not be sacrilegious.
“Of course. My apologies, Tabs.” She couldn’t help her thoughts, but even then it was inappropriate to wish death on a god. They were all still Genjix after all.
The young man looked up at her. “Voice… take away… no leave.”
Shura closed the stall door and signaled to Roxani to go. Trapping Mammay in a broken mind was punishment enough. The boy was obviously in shock from the presence of a Holy One in his head. He may or may not eventually recover, but this was one of the best ways to keep one of Rurik and Sabeen’s dedicated sycophants out of action for a few decades.
“Where to next?” she asked.
Roxani checked the Penetra scanner again. “Two clusters of signatures. Both are on the move. Rurik’s people appear to be pulling back to the transport.”
Shura touched her ear. “Kloos, what is your status?” No answer. Shura called the rest of her team. Again no answer. She next contacted Bashira. “Move all of your yakuza to the air strip.”
At least the heir to the Aizukotetsu-kai was still answering. “There are still pockets of police in the building.”
“They are irrelevant,” snapped Shura. “Only the girl is important.”
Roxani motioned to Shura. “Two of the signatures are passing right below us on the ground floor. If we hurry, we can intercept them.”
Do it. If something has happened to your team at the transport, and Rurik has the Receiver and escapes to the field outside, your chances of capturing them will be slim.
Shura burst into the stairwell with Roxani close behind. She leaped over the side and dropped down to the railing below. She stepped to the adjacent lower railing as it snaked around the bend and then continued on down. Roxani, who was sprinting down the stairwell, had just reached the second landing by the time Shura was on the ground.
You should wait for her.
There was no time.
Shura left the stairwell and realized her mistake far too late. The two signatures were two of Rurik’s lieutenants alongside four of his bodyguards. She recognized Nilaksh and Halston from Hong Kong. The group looked tired, as if they had just been dragged through a war. All sported minor injuries. Halston, who was the one Shura had beaten, was holding his arm.
One of the vessels – Shura forgot his name – began to bark orders. “It’s Shura. Take the Adonis. Alive preferably. Dead just as–”
Shura shot him twice between the eyes.
His Holy One’s name is Pollack.
“Whatever.”
The remaining Genjix attacked. Shura dodged a punch from the nearest bodyguard, blocked Halston’s right cross, but took a punch square in the jaw from Nilaksh. The other vessel, Kang, drew his sidearm and clubbed her across the side of the face. The room swayed as he hit her again and then jabbed the muzzle of his gun over her heart as he pinned her against the wall.
As soon as she felt him pull the trigger, Shura jerked her body to the side and shoulder-checked his arm, deflecting the shot. She tied her arm around his wrist and angled it to the side. Kang continued to squeeze shots and only succeeded in hitting one of his own.
Shura elbowed the vessel in the face to create a little distance between them, then smashed the butt of her pistol over Kang’s nose, exploding a spray of blood. She tapped him once in the abdomen as he fell to the floor.
To your right.
Someone large slammed into her from the side. The air fled her lungs as she flew out of control and her body spasmed uncontrollably. Even then, as she fell backward, she lashed out, pulling the trigger blindly. One shot hit nothing, but the other struck one of the unknown bodyguards. The last thing she saw before crashing to the floor was blood spewing from his neck as the man spun to the ground.
Then the remaining Genjix were on her.
It was an inevitable result. Even Adonis vessels could be overwhelmed, especially fighting their own people, some of whom were almost as skilled as her. Shura struggled as best she could, but dozens of blows continued to rain down on her. Eventually, human instincts took over, and she stopped fighting back and attempted to just cover up.
That was when Shura knew she had lost.
Just as soon as the fight had started, it ended. One second Halston had his knee on her chest striking her repeatedly in the face, the next, he was thrown off of her and held his stomach from a gunshot wound.
Roxani stood over Shura, her rifle sweeping over the surviving guards. “Are you all right, Adonis?”
Shura sat up and clutched her bruised forehead. “You run too slow.”
“Apologies, Adonis.”
She spat out a tooth and climbed back to her feet. She walked over to where she had dropped her pistols and checked the bodies. Halston would take days to die with that painful stomach wound. Nilaksh looked roughed up, but no worse for wear.
She determined which vessel Pollack had chosen and left him alive. She did not do any more to Kang, either, though she would not lift a finger to aid either of them. Their Holy Ones guaranteed them their lives, nothing more. With Halston, she gave him a dismissive glance and then shot him once in the chest.
As for Nilaksh, Shura walked over to her while she was crawling toward and pawing for her rifle. Shura kicked it away. The woman, now resigned to her fate, looked up expectantly.
Shura considered her options. “Want a job?”
Nilaksh blinked. “Adonis?”
“You get one chance. Pledge to me until death and you will live a while longer.”
“I am honored by your request, Adonis, but my loyalty can’t be bought so easily,” replied Nilaksh, rising to her knees. “However, if you would consider sparing–”
Shura shrugged. “I can respect that choice.” She double-tapped the trigger.
You cannot convert everyone.
“Pity.”
She reloaded. “Now where is Rurik?”
“He has the Receiver and is making his way to the transport.”
“Let’s go.” The two
exited through the nearest door and found themselves on the northern end of the building. They sprinted westward and turned the corner to find another shootout boiling in the open field. The remaining police had established a perimeter around the plane and were battling the last of the yakuza, who had just exited the building. There weren’t many left on both sides, but there didn’t need to be for the fight to get bogged down.
That was when Shura spied Rurik and the Receiver’s host, Ella Patel. They were near the bottom of the transport’s ramp. For some reason, they hadn’t gone up yet. Shura thought she knew why. “Kloos, are you there?”
Still no answer.
The uncertainty grated on her. Shura signaled for Roxani to follow. They gave the battle a wide berth, moving to the far side and circling around the port side of the plane. They jumped down to a drainage ditch that ran parallel to the runway and proceeded through ankle-deep muck toward the transport. Shura kept her eyes locked on the plane, watching for any signs of it starting to take off. She didn’t know why the plane hadn’t done so yet, but she wasn’t going to question the gift.
They reached the nearest point between the ditch and the plane. Rurik was still at the bottom of the ramp. Two of his guards ducked behind cover and looked as if they were engaging someone inside. The girl was crumpled on the floor, likely unconscious or drugged.
“Stay quiet. Maintain the element of surprise.” Shura took point and began to creep out of the ditch. No sooner had they left the cover, a loud crack punctured the air from somewhere afar. Roxani, who was standing next to Shura, pitched forward.
From your left! Find cover.
Another crack followed, kicking up the dirt half a meter away from Shura. She took off, sprinting the fifty meter distance to the plane. More dirt exploded around their feet.
Sniper weapon. Whoever is shooting at you is getting off shots in rapid succession. Likely someone highly skilled, so probably not police or yakuza.
“It has to be the Prophus.”
That would explain the confusion, and possibly why the transport has not taken off yet. Kloos and his team would have responded to you by now if they were still alive.
Shura was almost on top of Rurik by the time the Russian noticed her. He had picked up Ella Patel’s unconscious body and was dragging her into the transport. His bodyguard stayed behind at the base of the ramp to engage her.
Another rifle shot from the sniper zinged perilously close to her head. Without missing a step, Shura dodged three shots from Rurik’s bodyguard before finishing him off with a single bullet between his eyes. She walked up to the ramp to finally confront her rival. She found him hiding behind a pallet of metal drums as weapons fire pinged around him. He had his arm wrapped around Ella Patel’s neck and was holding her close, like a toddler with his favorite stuffed animal.
“Hello, brother,” she said. “We are long overdue for a talk.”
He used the girl’s body as a shield and aimed his gun at Shura. “Stay back.”
“You might as well let the girl go, Rurik. There are no other viable vessels around. Sabeen will not allow you to risk the Receiver’s life. It’s time you and I settle our differences the way it was meant to be.”
A flurry of bullets rained down on them from somewhere deeper in the transport. Rurik flinched when a bullet ricocheted close to his head. Shura took advantage of his momentary distraction to charge forward. She covered the distance between them and kicked his gun out of his hand. Then she grabbed the girl and pried her out of his grasp.
Disarming Rurik and getting the vessel to safety had its cost. In the split second it took her to clear away the weapon and hostage, Rurik attacked. Three blinding punches to her body and face sent her reeling backward. Rurik followed up with a kick that lifted Shura off her feet. She landed hard, tumbled over and slid down the ramp on her face. She groaned as her consciousness temporarily flashed.
Get up. Control your breathing.
She had less than a second to recover her wits as Rurik stomped toward her. Her injuries were adding up, and her body wasn’t responding as sharply as she expected. She just managed to get back onto all fours when Rurik charged forward and punted a steel-tipped shoe at her head.
Move left.
Shura managed to roll aside just in time as the foot came back down: once, twice, three times. She got to one knee and kicked out, missing badly, and then Rurik got his hands on her. He was strong and relatively fresh. Shura felt the breath squeeze out of her body as his vicelike grip clenched around her throat. He slammed her down on the metal ramp. The air whooshed out of her lungs as he pinned her to the hard surface and applied pressure. Shura clutched and batted at his arms, but it was like beating against heavy iron rods. The stars in the sky disappeared. The darkness at the edge of her vision grew.
His left arm is exposed. Now!
Shura, using what little was left of her fading energy, scissored her legs and wrapped them around his exposed arm. She heaved and straightened her body out, toppling Rurik over and trapping him into an armbar lock. Rurik desperately tried to keep his arm bent, grabbing and punching her repeatedly in the body and head. Shura went for the break relentlessly, clutching his wrist with both hands and applying pressure. His strength slowly deteriorated, and she finally snapped his elbow.
To his credit, Rurik barely grunted in pain. No sooner did his arm crack than he escaped her grasp and attacked her again. A forearm to the face separated the two, a kick to the arm nearly broke her arm as well, and then a final uppercut sent her crashing back onto the ground.
Just as he was about to pounce on her again, a spray of bullets from inside the plane rained near them. Shura just managed to avoid getting strafed in the chest, but Rurik took a bullet to the leg and fell.
A voice called out from somewhere inside. “Are you both dead?”
Shura had found cover, but Rurik was still lying in the center of the ramp, so she decided to reply. “No. You should keep shooting.”
There was a lengthy pause. “Is this a trick?”
“No, really,” she encouraged. “Keep shooting.”
So of course he stopped.
She would have to finish her brother off herself. Shura scanned for her dropped pistols and managed to find them. She checked her rounds and advanced on the other Adonis vessel. Just as she left her cover, a wooden container very close to her head exploded from a gunshot.
“Did I miss?” the voice yelled.
Shura gritted her teeth and crept closer to the other Adonis vessel. Sweat beaded down his brow as he tried to crawl away. The haughty confidence that was usually permanently plastered on his face was nowhere to be found.
He pointed into the transport. “There are Prophus there. We should be working together for the good of the Holy Ones, not against each other. Why don’t we settle our differences after the battle is won, and the Receiver is secure in Genjix hands?”
Shura’s gaze followed where Rurik was pointing. Weapons fire was still coming erratically from the cockpit entrance. She noticed a balding head and a fluff of white hair sticking out from behind the doorway. She waved. “Roen Tan, is that you?”
The shooting stopped again. A wrinkly head popped out from the cockpit door. He waved back. “Hi.”
“What are you doing up there?” she asked.
“Stalling for time. You?”
“I’m about to take care of some family business, kill my brother, you know. Would you be so kind as to stop shooting for a bit so I can sort this first? Then I can kill you.”
“Take your time. I have all night. By the way, if you guys were planning on leaving on this thing, you might want to consider Plan B. I smashed all of your consoles and blew the windows out. I’m also using the cockpit chairs as a barricade.” There was a pause. “And I dumped all of your fuel.”
“I’m going to kill you!” screamed Rurik.
“You’re the last thing I’m worried about right now, kid.”
Shura turned her attention back to Rurik.
“You can’t possibly side with a Prophus over one of your own,” he gasped, crawling to his knees. He begged, “We are Genjix. The Receiver is not safely in our hands yet. It is our duty to the Holy Ones to put their will above our petty squabbles… sister.”
“Now you acknowledge me as your sister,” she replied. “It only takes putting a gun to your head while you beg for your life for you to consider me your equal.”
You are playing with your prey again. Just remember, no harm can come to Sabeen. Upon your life.
“You don’t much care for Sabeen, Tabs. Are you sure you’ll mind?”
Your sacrilege pushes even my leniency, daughter. Any Quasing life matters more than any human’s.
“I’m sure there’s plenty of wildlife for Sabeen out there.” Shura raised her gun.
“Wait, wait,” pleaded Rurik. “You need me to get the girl to safety. The Receiver’s host is not cooperative. She’ll turn on you as soon as she wakes. The rest of your people are dead. You need Genjix support.”
He has a point. The Receiver is the priority. If Kloos and the rest of your team are dead, you will be hard-pressed to smuggle the girl out by yourself. Especially if she is being uncooperative.
Shura lowered her pistol and gnawed at her lip. This was her chance to end her rival. The very idea of working side by side with Rurik made her skin want to break out in hives. He would betray her at first chance, and if they were successful he would absolutely take the credit. And since he had the backing of the Japanese government, chances were the two of them would have to go to his supporters for aid.
Especially since you are a wanted fugitive and have now attacked a police base with your yakuza allies.
Or Shura could just pull the trigger, end his life, and figure out the details later. She raised her pistol again.
I forbid it. Securing the girl is the top priority. Failure to follow through with that priority and the loss of the Receiver will result in the loss of your status as a vessel. Do I make myself clear?