Six Koreans, who had all taken a beating—
Daxiong’s narrow eyes turned towards Yoyo.
‘Come over here,’ he roared. ‘The rest of you stay where—’
His voice faded away. It was only now that the giant seemed to take in what had happened in the control centre. His gaze wandered from the shredded corpse of Jia Wei to Maggie’s grotesquely bent body. His eyes widened very slightly.
‘They’ve killed them,’ whimpered the girl by his side. All the colour had fled from her face.
‘Shit,’ the other guy said. ‘Oh, shit!’
Jericho’s thoughts went running helter-skelter like a pack of dogs. A thousand possible scenarios flooded his imagination. The hitmen, the City Demons, everyone was aiming at everyone else, while Zhao crouched there, waiting, and Yoyo’s eyes wandered from one group to the other. No one dared move for fear of disturbing the fragile equilibrium, which would inevitably have ended in disaster.
It was Yoyo who broke the spell. She walked slowly past Zhao and over to Daxiong. Zhao didn’t move. Only his eyes followed her.
‘Stop.’
He said it quietly, no more than a sibilant murmur, but it still drowned out the hiss of the airbikes, the dog-like wheezing of the others, the hammering in Jericho’s head, and Yoyo stopped.
‘No, come here,’ Daxiong yelled. ‘Don’t listen to—’
‘You won’t survive this,’ Zhao interrupted. ‘You can’t kill us all, so don’t even try. Give us what we want to have, tell us what we want to hear and we’ll be off. Nothing will happen to anyone.’
‘Like nothing happened to Jia Wei?’ wept the girl with the gun. ‘Or Maggie?’
‘That was inev— No, not like that!’
She had swung the gun round slightly; the fat Asian had also swung the barrel of his gun and was aiming it at her head. Daxiong and the other City Demon reacted in similar fashion. The blond guy’s jaws worked away. Zhao raised a pleading hand.
‘Enough blood has been spilled! – Yoyo, listen, you’ve seen something you shouldn’t have seen. An accident, a stupid accident, but we can wipe this problem out. I want your computer, I have to know who you’ve entrusted it to. No more people must die, I promise. Survival in exchange for silence.’
You’re lying, Jericho thought. Each of your words is pure deceit.
Yoyo turned doubtfully towards Zhao, looked into the beautiful face of the devil.
‘Yes, it’s fine, Yoyo, all fine!’ He nodded. ‘I give you my word that nothing will happen to anyone as long as you cooperate.’
‘Shit!’ yelled the young man next to Daxiong. ‘It’s all a great big pile of shit! They’re going to shoot us all as soon as—’
‘You watch yourself!’ roared the blond guy.
‘Kenny, that won’t do any good.’ The fat man was quaking with nerves. ‘We should kill them.’
‘You fat fuck! First we’ll take you and—’
‘Shut it!’
‘One more word! One word and I’ll—’
‘Stop it! Stop it, all of you!’
Eyes darted back and forth, fingers tightened on triggers. As if the room had filled with an inflammable gas, Jericho thought, and now they were all desperate to click their lighters. But Zhao’s authority held them all in check. The explosion hadn’t happened. Yet.
‘Please – give – me – the computer.’
Yoyo wiped her hand over her face, smearing it with tears and snot. ‘Then will you let us go?’
‘Answer my questions and give me your computer.’
‘I have your word?’
‘Yes. Then we’ll let you go.’
‘You promise that nothing will happen to Daxiong and Ziyi – and Tony? And that guy there?’
How thoughtful, thought Jericho.
‘Don’t listen to him,’ he said. ‘Zhao will—’
‘I’ve never broken my word,’ Zhao cut in, paying him no attention. It sounded friendly and honest. ‘Look, I’m trained to kill people. Like any cop, any soldier, any agent. National security is a higher good than individual human lives, I’m sure you understand that. But I’ll keep my promise.’
‘If you give him the computer, he’ll kill us all,’ Jericho announced. He said it as soberly as possible. ‘I’m your friend. Your father sent me.’
‘He’s lying.’ Zhao’s voice sounded wheedling. ‘You know what? You should be far more afraid of him than you are of me. He’s playing a game with you, every word he comes out with is a lie.’
‘He’s going to kill you,’ said Jericho.
‘Just let him try,’ snorted the boy. So his name was Tony. He jutted his chin belligerently, but his voice and his outstretched weapon trembled slightly. Ziyi, the girl, started to sob uncontrollably.
‘Just give him that fucking computer!’
‘Don’t do it,’ Jericho insisted. ‘As long as he doesn’t know where your computer is, he has to let you live.’
‘Shut up!’ Daxiong yelled at him.
‘Just give him the damned computer!’ Ziyi shouted.
Yoyo walked to the table. Her fingers floated over a device hardly bigger than a bar of chocolate, connected to the keyboard and the screen.
‘You’re making a mistake,’ said Jericho dejectedly. All the strength was oozing from his limbs. ‘He’ll kill you.’
Zhao looked at him.
‘The way you killed Grand Cherokee Wang, Jericho?’
‘The way I— What?’
Yoyo paused.
‘Bullshit!’ Jericho shook his head. ‘He’s lying. He’s—’
‘Just shut your mouth,’ yelled the fat guy, pulled his gun around and aimed it at Jericho, who saw with startling clarity every individual drop of sweat on the killer’s forehead, glittering like bubble wrap.
Daxiong aimed at Zhao, whose eyes widened.
‘No!’ he yelled.
The lighter clicked.
Jericho saw Tony lifting his gun, then there were two shots in quick succession, and the fat guy collapsed. Everything happened at the same time. With a deafening bang the fair-haired man’s pistol went off and shot away half of Tony’s face. He tipped over and obstructed Daxiong’s view, while Ziyi squealed and Yoyo stormed towards the door. Zhao tried to grab her, missed her and fell headlong. Jericho reached for the gun on the floor. He grabbed the barrel, but Zhao was faster, while Ziyi was shooting wildly in all directions, forcing the blond guy to take cover behind the table.
He ducked.
Daxiong dashed forward, slipped in Jia Wei’s blood and cracked the back of his head on the floor-tiles, dragging Jericho with him. A burst of fire ploughed up the floor next to him. Jericho rolled away from the unconscious giant and saw Ziyi stride like a vengeful goddess over Tony’s corpse, shouting and firing indiscriminately. A moment later a bright red fountain sprouted where her right arm had been. The reports from Zhao’s pistol rang out as he ran outside. Ziyi hesitated. Glassy-eyed, she turned round, an expression of mild surprise in her eyes, and sprayed her pumping blood at the blond guy, spurting it into his eyes. The man raised a hand to protect himself, tried to avoid her dying body, lost his balance.
Jericho leapt up. Ziyi’s severed arm twitched at his feet, and suddenly he was caught up in the vision of a theatrical performance. He was gratefully aware of something within him stepping aside and something else taking control of his thoughts and his motor abilities. He bent down, fumbled the gun from Ziyi’s slack fingers, aimed the muzzle at the stumbling hitman and pulled the trigger.