The young knight was looking rather glum. “There are not very many of us left. The Tokubetsu Koto Keisatsu has been very effective against the Society. We were infiltrated by a spy and our identities exposed. Most of us were taken from our homes during a single night, never to be seen again. The rest have been living under false names and moving constantly. We know of Tokugawa’s upcoming visit, but any attempt against his life in the past has been a complete failure, even with overwhelming force. There is nothing we can accomplish now.”
“We brought three dozen Grimnoir with us,” Lance said.
“That should occupy the first few Iron Guards’ time. What do you intend to do with the other hundred?”
“That’s part of the plan. We want Iron Guard there.” Sullivan said. “The more the better.”
“We will be slaughtered!” Zhao snapped. “I do not think you Americans realize how—”
“Listen, Zhao. You’re not talking to tourists.” Lance’s voice was level and calm. “I know your people have gotten bled, and believe me, I feel for you. We’ve all dealt with them before, and we’ve got a plan. I’ll fill you in on the whole thing once it’s safe. We pull it off, and we will rock the Imperium to its foundations.”
“You know perfectly well how fearsome a single Iron Guard can be in battle, but you have never seen the depravities which occur when they engage in total war. I have. You are in their home territory now. They will not be discreet here. In America, they sneak in the dark and put a knife in your back. In Shanghai, they drag us from our homes during the day and execute us in the streets for all to see!” Zhao was getting worked up. “They will crush their attackers and glory in every moment as an example to the populace that they should cower. Our bodies are drug through the streets and hung from the bridges, and then every man, woman, and child they suspect of having conspired with us is purged. The fortunate, beheaded on the spot, and the rest sent to the schools to be experimented on!”
“Then you must understand how dire our mission is when I say that an end such as that sounds like an acceptable risk,” Heinrich said. “And all of it is preferable to our fate should we fail. I’m afraid we bring very bad news.”
“That is the only sort of news I know…” Zhao just shook his head and started walking down the tunnel. “We must continue on or we will be late. We do not wish to keep the criminals waiting. Another attempt on Lord Tokugawa, the few Grimnoir that remain here will have no choice but to flee. We will not survive another crackdown.”
“Then it is time to move elsewhere, for we must do this.”
“Move? This is my home. I have fought for it my entire life. I will continue to do so, but I wish to understand what you are hoping to accomplish by committing suicide.”
Sullivan thought Zhao seemed like an earnest young soldier, but the Grimnoir in Asia were practically cut off from the rest of the world. They’d suffered so much already at the hands of the Imperium, it would be almost impossible to convince them that the Enemy was actually the greater threat. “Get me to this meeting, let me speak with your leader, and I’ll make him understand.”
Zhao’s shoulders sagged. “I do not think you realize how dire our situation is here in Shanghai, Mr. Sullivan… I am the leader.”
It didn’t matter that Sullivan couldn’t speak a lick of Chinese. Gangsters were the same everywhere, and Big Eared Du had a better stranglehold on Shanghai than Al Capone had on Chicago. His manner, the look on his face, the way he sat there, looking smug because he had something that somebody else needed and that gave him leverage, it was always the same with men like this. Du was a king, and the dark side of Shanghai was his kingdom. He ran the Yuesheng Greens, a criminal army nearly twenty thousand strong, and nothing big went down in this city without him having a piece of it.
The king’s table was the only thing illuminated in the vast space of the warehouse. There was a single powerful work lamp dangling over them. The smoke from Du’s cigar floated in the yellow light. He was skinny and oily, living up to his nickname with some stupidly big ears. And when he smiled, Sullivan counted three gold teeth.
The Grimnoir knights sat at one end of the table. The mobster and his lieutenants sat at the other. The rest of the warehouse was supposedly empty, but Sullivan didn’t even need to use his Power to know that there were men watching from the shadowed catwalks above and that there were probably rifles trained on their hearts the whole time. Somebody like Du didn’t take any chances. Sullivan wasn’t big on chances himself, so he used his Power just a bit in order to inspect the world around him, breaking everything down into its components, bits of mass, density, and forces…
Twenty men, all bearing long bars of steel and wood. No less than six of those were pointed at the Grimnoir, braced against the railing of the catwalk above. One of them was particularly heavy, suggesting a machine gun. Even the two pretty ladies who kept on pouring them liquor and bringing odd oriental snacks had small guns hidden inside their skimpy dresses. Sullivan didn’t drink the booze or taste the little cakes. Gravity couldn’t sense poison. The small army of bodyguards was far enough away that they wouldn’t be able to overhear the conversation. Which was wise, considering that the subject of their meeting would be considered treasonous, even by crime-lord standards.
Poor Zhao was translating. The burdens of responsibility were heavy. He may have been young, but it was doubtful if he’d ever actually been a kid. Sullivan could see that now. He’d listened to the American’s plan, gotten the pertinent details, and hadn’t hesitated to make a call. He’d picked a direction and run. Keep him alive long enough to gain some experience, and he’d probably go on to accomplish great things. Problem was, with what they were up to, the odds of staying alive that long ranged from slim to none.
The leader of the Shanghai Grimnoir had, as far as Sullivan could tell, told Big Eared Du exactly what they needed him to. They didn’t need the big picture. They just needed to do their part. “I am afraid what you are asking is very dangerous.” Zhao scowled, listening as Du’s right hand man spat out a bunch of complaints. “Dangerous and very expensive.”
Lance looked over at Heinrich and nodded. Their Fade reached into one sleeve, untied a knot, and pulled out a long cloth bundle, which had been wrapped around his forearm. He tossed it onto the table. The left-hand man snatched it up, dragged it over, and unwrapped it. There were a whole lot of Grover Clevelands in there. Left-Hand Man started counting. He said something to his boss, which Zhao quickly translated. “The new American gold certificates. These are all a thousand dollars each.”
“Yeah, President Roosevelt is confiscating all our gold and giving us paper instead,” Lance explained. “But those are legit.” Zhao went ahead and translated that.
Du laughed and muttered something to Left-Hand Man. Zhao seemed puzzled. “He says that taking real money and giving you their paper money, which is only as good as they say it is, maybe your government and ours aren’t so different after all.”
“They’re all about the same thing,” Lance muttered. “Bossing folks around.”
Left-Hand Man finished his count and seemed pleased. Paper money still spent, and it was easier to move through Du’s gambling parlors, whorehouses, opium dens, and racetracks than sacks of gold. Left-Hand Man held up the money, and one of the serving girls snatched it up and disappeared back into the dark. Francis would never miss that much money, but on general principles, if Du sold them out, Heinrich could always walk through the walls of his safe house and get it all back.