by Sean M Locke
The Lange crew shook itself out into a thin line of brown and gray suits, clumps of six to ten affiliat gathering themselves to each soldat. Each soldat gravitated toward some handy bit of cover, even if it didn’t make much sense. A thin iron light pole didn’t hide anyone from bullets, but at least two soldaten were leaning casually against them, staring northward.
In the center of our line stood our fearless leaders and their entourage—Hendrik, Kasper and Ludo, Pino and me with the valises full of junk. A phalanx of ambitious affiliat stood ready to close ranks around the Boss if the lead started flying.
“Eyes up,” Ludo growled. Tension crackled around me.
Hard men and women in bad suits appeared out of the rain to the north. We could have been staring into a mirror, for all that Rademaker was arranging itself like we’d done. When a Rademaker soldat took up his station under a lamppost, I saw more clearly how futile that was. Not only was he trying to hide behind a thin spindle of iron, the sodium light picked him out of the gloom for anyone to shoot at.
As I looked right to left along the Rademaker line, I caught sight of a sallow, familiar face hiding in the booth for the tamhak toss. Of course Piet was going to show up for his aker and money. He wouldn’t be happy when he found out our cases didn’t have it, but there wasn’t anything I could do about that.
More Rademakers were showing up now, and they outnumbered us. That was all right—we still had a couple dozen guys working their way around the outside of the plaza, and maybe it’d be a fair fight after all. Of course, Rademaker could also have their own flankers looking to sew us up from the sides.
The scowling Rademakers made way for someone. I held my breath. Felix, Henriette, and Maria were marched out, each held by two armed men. Felix limped a little and had his hands bound behind him. Despite his circumstances and the distance, I could still see the man’s cheery grin and his blond locks, now dark and plastered to his forehead from the rain. Henriette was less happy and just as damp, but apparently unhurt. She would have to sort herself out once things got interesting. Maria walked with her chin up and her back straight.
It might have just been my imagination, but I thought I saw a bruise around one eye and a trickle of blood from her lips as she passed through the yellow glare of a sodium lamp. Heat flared up in my guts and warmed my skin, and the rain didn’t bother me as much. I stared hard at Maria, wanting her to see me, too, wanting some sort of signal from her. Only the sure knowledge that she’d catch a slit throat stopped me from rushing through no-man’s-land to get her.
Vedette Sforza came forward, a black canvas cloak and hood covering her usual sharp suit, followed by a meaty mook with an umbrella in his fist. She stopped and waited, her hands and eyes invisible in the folds of her heavy cloak. That nasty half-smile, though—I could see that, plain as day.
Kasper looked at Pino and me, and then jerked his chin toward no-man’s-land. It was time. We made our long, slow walk.
“You ready?” Pino muttered once we were out of Lange earshot.
“I can’t get any readier.” There simply wasn’t time to. “You give a shit about me all of a sudden.”
Pino rolled his shoulder under the weight of the heavy valise. “We’re in this together, aren’t we?”
“Are we?” I looked at him sideways, but I couldn’t read him. “When it hits the fan, are you gonna stick by Kasper, or are you gonna turn your coat?”
“Does it matter?” he asked miserably. “I’m cashed out either way, all used up. I thought I could play both ends and get paid for it, but I screwed up somewhere.” He sighed and wiped rain from his face with his free hand. “We got that in common at least.”
“You’re not used up, not yet,” I said, rain dripping from the brim of my hat. “You might be a rat, but one thing about rats: They survive. They’re clever. I bet you got one more trick in your bag. Something to make ‘em remember your name.”
“Yeah?” We stopped in the middle of no-man’s-land, under a lamppost and just next to a corn dog stand. “Is that what you plan to do?”
I set my suitcase down, and lightning flashed and thunder cracked somewhere very close by. It was a minor miracle that someone didn’t mistake it for a gunshot and start slinging lead of their own. A different kind of electricity shot up from my tailbone to the top of my skull, and all my limbs wanted to move at once.
“Anything’s possible.”
I felt the sudden itch to dance, of all the crazy things. This wasn’t the time for it, not at all, not in the rain with dozens of armed and angry gangsters staring at me. I wasn’t happy about much, that was for sure, but all I wanted to do was shout and laugh and dance like a loon. Maybe I’d gone mad?
A smaller, calmer part of my mind said something else: I moved all these pieces into place. Maybe I outsmarted them and maybe I didn’t, but it didn’t matter now. The time for smarts and planning was over. Now I had to pull the trigger and hope for the best.
Vedette Sforza spoke. “Hendrik, it’s good to see you again.”
“You’re talking to me tonight, Sforza,” Kasper called, just a little too loudly.
“Oho!” Vedette picked up her chin, and I could see the ugly glittering lights in her eyes now. “Papa is letting you make a deal, is he? All grown up now? But no, if he was gonna cut the apron strings, he wouldn’t be here right now, watching.”
“You’re trying to provoke me. It won’t work,” Kasper said, his voice rising. “Enough chitchat. Did you want this stuff or not?”
Now it was getting dicey. Josef should have told Vedette that Lange wanted to meet to trade the aker and cash for Henriette. I told Lange the opposite; that Rademaker wanted the meet. It would take one wrong word from either side to really screw things, and then I’d catch a bullet for sure. Maybe in the back, or maybe in the gut.
There were lots of ways to die on a night like this.
“By all means. And you can see that we’ve brought the charming Lady Henriette Cantabile, and she’s quite safe in our care.” Sforza gestured with an upturned palm, and I could see Henriette baring her teeth.
“So send her over, already,” Kasper called back, irritation etching his voice. “Our people leave the cases for you.”
“Then we all go home with what we want, is that it?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“You get the girl, and we get what? Best case, we get two suitcases full of rocks. Worst case, they blow up in our faces.” Anger laced Vedette’s voice now, too. “Do you think I’m stupid, Kasper?”
I looked down at the valise at my feet, and it occurred to me that I hadn’t actually seen anyone pack this case. My fist clenched, as if I could draw my fingers away from whatever nastiness might be in there. Silence stretched for long moments, filled only by the steady patter of rain and the Ferro wheel motors cranking.
“All right, then,” Kasper said finally, impatience pitching his voice higher. “How do you want to do it?”
Vedette tilted her chin up and smiled like the cat who got in the cream.
“Well, we’ll send one or two of ours over there to inspect the bags, of course, and your Pino and Kaeri can keep them company. But first, I wanted to see what you thought about what we had to offer.”
She looked at the mooks who were holding Felix, and he got marched forward a step.
“This man, for instance, is a trade regulator. A young one, but formidable. From what we have been able to gather, he has had his eye on our families for some time. I’m sure you could find some use for him, if you’d rather have him.”
“This is garbage,” Kasper called out. “Why would I want—”
Some rustling of cloth and bodies behind me cut him off. Vedette licked her teeth and made another gesture at her men. Felix’s handler withdrew, and Tommy pushed Maria forward a few steps. Something in her posture told me he had a weapon pressed to her spine, but I couldn’t see what it was.
“Or, if you prefer, you may have this one. She claims to be the elder Cantabile sister, an
d little Henriette confirmed it, albeit reluctantly. One can see the resemblance with some effort. I understand that certain members of your organization would be keenly interested in having her back. Or maybe you could ransom her back to her family. It’s nothing to me.
“Now, you may have one of these three people in exchange for our property. If you would still like the younger Lady Cantabile, that is perfectly fine. Or pick one of the other two. Whoever you leave behind, we will dispose of as we see fit.”
“We came here for Hen—” Kasper started, but more shuffling and rustling behind me stopped him.
I closed my eyes and listened hard. Ludo and Hendrik were talking, but I couldn’t hear too good over the rain. For once, Kasper was quiet as he listened to the two older men press him for a different choice.
“Gentlemen,” said Vedette, “I’m waiting, and getting increasingly wet. Your decision, if you please.”
If I had any guts at all, I would speak up right now and claim that Lange wanted Maria. Or maybe I’d open the suitcase and see what kind of murder lay inside and just go grab her. My fists clenched and unclenched, and fire burned in my gut. I should have opened my eyes, if only to look at Maria one last time.
I should have opened my eyes, if only to maybe see where the first shot came from.
For a moment, the Rademakers all just stiffened and looked at each other, and the Langes behind me started muttering and shifting around. Another shot rang out to the right, behind the old-timey swordsmith booth and out of sight, and someone screamed. One of the Lange pickets must have run into some Rademakers, and now things would get nasty.
Pino and I kneeled simultaneously and opened the cases, as if we’d planned it. He pulled out two beer bottle–sized tin canisters, yanked the pull rings on top, and tossed them a foot in front of us. They immediately started guttering and spewing out a dirty gray cloud.
“Come on, pop your smoke!” Pino called, already digging in his bag for something else. When I didn’t respond, he looked over. “Kaeri, what are you—”
I showed him what was in my case—nothing but pulp novels with trashy covers.
I ducked as someone rushed by where we squatted, a meat cleaver in each hand, screaming. He screamed some more, a higher-pitched squeal, when he ran into the end of another man’s bayonet. The rifle guy looked just as surprised and scared as the meat cleaver guy, and they both tumbled away into the fog.
“What’s supposed to be in here?”
“You were supposed to have bombs, too! Kasper said so. Well, to hell with him.” Pino was shouting now to be heard over the ruckus. He turned to rummage in his bag.
All around us I could hear the grunting and cursing of men and women brawling, and the malignant wasp-whines of bullets flying overhead. Ludo’s basso voice boomed out over the fray, calling for men to take cover, to cover this flank, to advance there. Somewhere Kasper’s carbine started up—short, controlled chatters of fire throwing death over our heads. A ragged cheer came up from the Lange lines, and I wondered if they’d keep cheering when that damned machine stopped working.
“Come on, Pino, we have to—” I looked over at him and choked a little. “Great absent gods, what are you doing?”
“Kasper gave me twelve pom-bombs, Kaeri,” he said, a mad grin on his face. Pomegranate-sized iron balls hung from their pull rings on each of his fingers. “But I only got enough fingers for ten, so you gotta do something with the other two.”
“Pino, this is crazy—you’re going to get yourself killed.”
That was probably true in any case, but holding the bombs like that wasn’t too safe, either. Each pull ring was connected to a friction fuse, which set off the gunpowder packed inside the iron sphere. Sometimes you’d get five seconds of burn before it blew, and sometimes you’d get less. Pino now had ten chances for “less.” Ten chances to turn his body into so much warm marinara sauce.
“You crazy shit, put those down and come with me. We’ll grab some cover and wait it out.”
“No, you go on ahead. I’m taking your advice.” Pino licked his teeth and stood up tall, or as tall as he could, anyway. “I’m gonna make ‘em remember my name.”
He turned and ran, grenades dangling from his fingers like vile fruit.
Wherever Pino was going, it was someplace I didn’t want to be. I took his valise with the two remaining pom-bombs and ran the opposite direction.
* * *
I pocketed the pom-bombs, deciding that a baton in my hand was a better bet. The smoke was thick enough that anyone who wanted to tangle with me would be close enough for kicks and knives. I didn’t want to shoot anyone, but I didn’t mind breaking someone’s nose if they asked for it.
A pair of dull thuds clapped the air, louder than gunshots. Screams of shock and pain echoed louder than the bombs. Once or twice someone got in my way or decided they wanted a fight, but something electrified my limbs, and nothing could touch me.
I didn’t recognize anyone I saw. They might have been Rademaker or Lange, and it simply didn’t matter. Sometimes I had to hit them, and sometimes they backed down after they got a look at my face. That was fine by me—precious seconds I spent dancing with someone were seconds I wasn’t finding Maria.
I listened hard for her voice, but couldn’t hear a thing over the ruckus in the Pinwheel Piazza. If she was smart and lucky, she would have used the confusion of the first gunshots and the smoke to get away from Tommy, and then find some place to ride out the storm. If she wasn’t . . . well. I didn’t want to think about that.
I sucked in a breath to call for her and got a lungful of smoke and sulfur instead. The stink of iron and shit that always came with violent death made my eyes water and my head spin.
I tried again and called for her. Called and called and wandered through smoke and bodies and discarded weapons. There was no way the plaza was as big as this—I should have gotten clear of the smoke or into one of the thoroughfares by now. But for all I knew, I was wandering in circles, just asking to get shot or trampled or my head caved in.
Something bit my shin, and I pitched my head forward and hit it against a pole. I said some bad words and stumbled and waved my baton in the direction of my attacker. The weighted end touched an upright brass rod, twisted and decorative. Strange choice for a weapon, but I’d seen weirder. I lunged forward, sliding my baton past the rod, and struck something that didn’t give the way a face would. It made a dry thock instead of a wet crunch, like something wooden and hollow. An errant wisp of smoke moved, and the painted eye of a wooden horse stared back at me, jolly and not too bothered with the violence.
A relieved, desperate laugh left my throat and threatened to multiply into deranged cackling. My knees sagged a little, and I caught my breath. I shook my head to clear it—there wasn’t time for this, but at least I knew where I was. If the carousel was here and I was on the southern end of it like I’d hoped, I’d only need to follow the curve of it until I saw the ticket booth. From there I could climb on top of it, maybe jump across to the carousel’s pavilion, and climb up some more to get a better view of what was going on.
A strong hand gripped my shoulder from behind, and I spun without thinking, ready to crack someone’s egg. Blind overhand strikes rarely worked out, and today was no exception: A strong forearm pushed my hand aside, and my baton hit nothing but air. That same arm whipped around, pinning my forearm against its body and locking my elbow against its wrist. The arm’s owner hauled up hard.
A broken elbow was in my immediate future, but that didn’t worry me. What worried me was the gun barrel pressed against my temple, still hot from being fired sometime recently. My eyes slid up the familiar pistol, the olive-skinned hand, the lacy cream sleeve, the tense shoulder and neck. And that beautiful, deadly face.
Wisps of black had gotten loose, and she showed her teeth like she was scared, but she was still not too hard to look at. All the yammering and panic in my brain cooled, like a spoon of gelato down a hot throat in summer. If Maria’s face
was the last one I saw, then maybe that would be all right.
“Oh, hey, it’s you,” I said, a near-hysterical laugh bubbling out of my mouth. “What’s a nice girl like you doing—”
“Kaeri!” Maria let me go, her blue eyes wild, her angular gun pointed elsewhere. “By the gods, I nearly shot you.”
I rolled my shoulder and hid a wince—the girl was strong. “Well, I’ll be honest: I’m glad you didn’t. You all right?”
“No, I cannot say I am all right. But I think I will be, now that I know you’re safe.”
“I’m supposed to rescue you, you know.”
She sighed theatrically. “I suppose I’ll be content with us rescuing each other yet again.”
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she smiled, big and goofy, and I couldn’t help but return it. I drew close and laid a soot-stained hand on her cheek. She leaned into it and closed her eyes, her tears wetting the space where our skin touched.
It was a nice moment, one I wanted to hold on to, but a bullet smashed itself against a carousel madill just to my left. A real madill would have shrugged off the bullet and come charging, but this one now sported a splintered hole in its wooden shell. We both crouched in place and scanned the area around us, but nobody was gunning for us. Just a shot gone wild.
I pulled her into the dubious safety of the carousel operator’s booth. “We have to get out of here,” I said.
“Kaeri, we cannot run away.” Maria shook her head, and loose curls swung left and right. “I want to. Gods know I want to, but we must get that weapon away from Lange. We must see Henriette safe.”
I bit back a curse. “Josef can look after Henriette. Didn’t you see him hanging around with Vedette?”
“I hadn’t seen him at all, not until she made that awful proposal to Kasper. In fact, I didn’t know she had Henriette and Felix until they marched all three of us into the plaza.”
If Maria hadn’t seen or talked to Henriette, then there was a chance that she didn’t know I’d tried to sell her to Rademaker to get Maria back. It wasn’t something I could keep hidden for long. Josef was also in the wind somewhere, but I couldn’t worry about him, either.