Heinrich’s enormous hat tilted to the side and, always suspicious, he asked something complicated in German. To his credit, the kid only had to think about it for a second before rattling something off back to him. Heinrich responded, sounding pleased.
“English is my best though. An American knight lived with our family for a time while he was spying on the Imperium. I first learned English from him. Later, I relearned to speak it when I got work in the British section.”
“Relearn?”
“The American knight who taught me was from your state of South Louisiana.”
“There are forty-eight states, and I’m pretty sure South Louisiana isn’t one of them,” Lance said.
“I lived in New Orleans for a bit. South Louisiana’s a state of mind.” Sullivan chuckled. “How old are you?”
“I am nearly sixteen.” Zhao said, but he didn’t seem offended. He was probably used to that reaction from folks. “Do not be concerned. I know Shanghai better than anyone. I have lived here my entire life. I was a courier for the English bank, so there is no section of the city I cannot get you into. I set up this meeting as you requested, and I will provide whatever assistance you need while you are in the city.”
Sullivan had only been a few years older than that when he’d slogged through the blood and hell of Second Somme. When times were tough, you didn’t get to be a child for long. Hell, look at what Faye had accomplished before she’d gotten killed… “I’m sure you’ll do.”
“I do not know what has brought you to Shanghai, but I have heard rumors about Pershing’s knights and the things you have done, such as killing Iron Guard Madi and fighting the Chairman on his own ship. Madi murdered many of my friends. It is an honor to meet you.” Sullivan thought it looked like Zhao wanted to bow, but he resisted the urge and instead held out his hand to shake. Apparently the kid hadn’t quite grasped the idea behind an American-style handshake, because it felt like a wet fish, but the kid seemed enthusiastic. “We must hurry.”
“Lead the way,” Heinrich suggested. It was a perfectly reasonable idea, since none of the rest of them knew where the hell they were going, but more than likely it was because Heinrich was so paranoid that he didn’t want someone he’d just met walking behind him.
“We must cross through some of the buildings which were abandoned during the Japanese invasion. The only reason they have not been torn down is because it benefits the gangs to have places to hide things. Do not speak for a time. Voices echo for long distances in the empty places.” Zhao took them a bit further down the alley, through a broken doorway, and down a long flight of stairs. They hurried along a tunnel that had to go under the street, and then up a ladder and through the basement of what felt like an abandoned apartment building. There were rats scurrying along the corners, but right on the other side of the boarded-up windows could be heard the bustle and clamor of the market.
There were bullet holes in the walls. Bits and pieces of building materials were strewn about, which Sullivan recognized as the telltale leftovers of fragmentation from shelling. It had been a few years since the free city had last gotten uppity against their Japanese guests. The Imperium had bombed the hell out of the troublemakers. The parts of the city that had been badly damaged had been abandoned and left to decay. He spotted the occasional signs of human habitation, but whoever the squatters were, they avoided contact. It didn’t matter how close these buildings were to falling down, if you were poor enough, at least it was still a roof overhead. It was fascinating how the neighborhoods that were for show were as modern and beautiful as any city in the world, but right next door was a wreck like this.
Fifteen more minutes of crossing back alleys and run-down buildings took them into another basement. “We should be able to speak freely now.” Zhao moved aside a rotting bookshelf to reveal what looked to be a mining tunnel. “The meeting place is not much farther.”
Sullivan poked his head inside. The air was hot and damp in his lungs. It hadn’t been carved for someone his size. This wasn’t going to be fun.
“You got a city, you’ve got smugglers,” Lance said as he admired the tunnel’s workmanship.
“And the Whangpoo River is right on the other side of the wall. Du keeps pumps running constantly. Should these tunnels be discovered, then the gangs can simply flood them for a time. Shanghai makes crime into an art form.” There was an electric hand torch just inside the entrance. Zhao had to thump the battery a few times before it engaged. “If we’re lucky, the Tokubetsu Koto Keisatsu will merely think they lost their suspicious American to one of the brothels.”
“A brothel? Now that would’ve been a much better place for a conspiracy to meet!”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Talon. Every brothel in Shanghai that allows westerners is watched by the Imperium. They take many useful blackmail photographs that way.”
“I was only kidding, Zhao. Not that I’d mind having my picture taken with the lovely ladies, as long as I got one of them to frame for myself. Hang it right on the trophy wall. On that happy thought…” Lance clapped Sullivan on the back. “How was your trip in?”
“Long.” After the Traveler had been hidden a few hours to the south in a small village friendly to Pirate Bob’s marauders, they had started secretly ferrying knights and equipment into the city. Sullivan, because he tended to stick out in a crowd, had been towards the end of the list, and his particular trip had included a midnight rowboat ride and climbing up a rope onto a freighter. “So, Zhao, what’s this toku koko thing?”
“They are the Imperium-controlled special police force. They are a plague. Shanghai is a free city in name only. Nearly all of China has been conquered by the Japanese, but supposedly we remain neutral here with an independent government and many international observers. It is all a lie so that the Imperium has a place to conduct business with the west. To most, Shanghai is a city of pleasure and leisure, but the Tokubetsu Koto Keisatsu are always watching, murdering those of us they call insurgents, and gathering information to blackmail visiting businessmen and fools.” Zhao sounded resigned. “There are pretenses made about Shanghai being free, but we all know the instant we go against the wishes of the real masters, we are crushed.”
“Sounds like the Imperium way.” It wasn’t too different from the Chicago way, when you thought about it.
“They are merciless. They allow the city’s gangs to operate, but only as long as they continue to provide useful intelligence, and sometimes, when necessary, enforcers. The men you will be speaking with are sympathetic to our cause, but are not to be trusted. The gangster known as Big Eared Du is the most powerful crime boss in Shanghai. He is my cousin, and he hates the Japanese, but he will only help us if it benefits him.”
“Cousin? Really?” Lance answered.
“Yes, but I barely know him,” Zhao insisted. Sullivan didn’t have room to judge, since his brother had been an Iron Guard. “Du only cares about what benefits him most. Nothing ever changes here. I really do not know what you expect to accomplish with this meeting, my brothers.”
Sullivan was forced to crouch. The walls were slick. Humidity collected on the ceiling to speckle them with a constant drizzle. “Okubo Tokugawa is coming to Shanghai for a visit, and when he gets here, we aim to kill him.”
“That is a good one.” Zhao’s laughed. The others didn’t. “Wait…” The hand torch turned back to face them. “You are serious?”
“Of course,” Heinrich said, “and we will require the assistance of every knight in Shanghai to do it.”