They rounded a bend in the river. The safe house came into view on the other side of the docks. The whole upper half was wreathed in flames, and there were shapes moving along all of the cobbled together walkways surrounding it. Giant shadows created by other patrol boats’ spotlights showed that the shadows were cast by soldiers carrying rifles. There were at least three other patrol boats between them and the fire. Barns reached for the throttle to slow their approach.
“Hold on,” Sullivan ordered. They were running dark. The spotlights were off. “The Japs will think we’re one of them until they get close.”
Barns took a deep breath. “If you say so.”
Zhao put his hand on Barns’ shoulder and pointed through the windscreen. “Head for that freighter.”
“The rusty, listing one?”
“Yes. It has been stuck in the mud for years. If any of our friends escaped through the flooded lower floors, the path out will take them under the docks to the side of that freighter.”
The other patrol boats hadn’t turned the spotlights on them yet. Come on. Sullivan could only pray that some of the knights had made it out. As swarming with Imperium as this place was, if they didn’t get out fast, they never would. One of the patrol boats must have spotted them because a spotlight swung their way, skipping across the water. Once they were made, there wasn’t much they could do against that many riflemen along the shore. They’d have to leave the survivors and make a run for it. Damn it.
Suddenly the whole top half of the apartment building exploded in a blue flash.
“What the hell?” Barns shouted.
Debris flew in every direction. One particularly large fireball shot out the side of the building with kicking legs and windmilling arms. It was a huge, armored figure, wreathed entirely in blue flames.
“Toru…”
The flaming, armored Iron Guard crashed through another building with a terrible racket. A split second later their apartment building made an even worse noise as the upper floors collapsed into the lower, pancaking the whole thing down in a gigantic inferno. A huge cloud of smoke and dust welled outward across the docks.
At least the other patrol boat wasn’t looking at them anymore.
“Head for that freighter,” Sullivan said. “This is our only shot.” Dozens of Imperium troops were already converging on the spot Toru had landed in. That building had caught fire as well. There wasn’t a damn thing they could do for Toru now. If he’d even lived through that explosion, and the fall hadn’t finished him off, then the fire or the Imperium troops would.
Barns killed the engine and let them drift toward the freighter.
“They’ll be coming out over there,” Zhao pointed at a spot in the black muck beneath the crumbling stone.
“Keep your eyes peeled,” Sullivan told the others, as he walked toward the back of the patrol boat.
The Imperium copper was there, shackled to the rail with his own handcuffs. Sullivan didn’t know how to read the Japanese police rank insignia, but this one had been wearing the fanciest uniform, and that usually meant they were in charge. Sullivan pulled the rag out of his mouth, and the Jap gasped for breath. Sullivan knelt next to him. “I’m gonna make this quick. How many safe houses did you hit?”
“Go to hell, Grimnoir.”
Sullivan reached up and broke the cop’s pinky finger. “Try again.”
The Jap grimaced but did not speak or cry out.
Zhao had joined him. The kid seemed totally unmoved by the Imperium man’s plight. Many of his men had been in that safe house. If anything, Zhao would have even less mercy. “Do you want me to freeze him?”
“I got this.” Sullivan pried loose the next finger and broke it too.
“Gah.” The cop ground his teeth together.
Sullivan broke another.
“Three. We knew of three hideouts.”
Shit. Sullivan looked at Zhao. There were only four in total. This was bad.
“Who sold us out?” Zhao demanded.
Sullivan took up the next finger.
“A fat Brute. Pang.”
Zhao gasped. “No. You lie.”
“It is not the first time. He has been an informant for years.”
“I’ll kill him,” Zhao snarled.
“He is already dead. Master Hayate was disgusted by his disloyalty. Fat Pang is dead, like you soon will be.”
Barns gave a sharp, attention-grabbing whistle. “Got somebody swimming.” He whistled again. “Hey! Over here. Ori, grab that life preserver.”
Sullivan breathed a sigh of relief. At least somebody had made it. The other boats were distracted by the destruction, so they might still be able to get out of here.
“I demand to be released. I am Major Matsuoka of the Tokubetsu Koto Keisatsu. My men will—”
“Wait. Your name is Matsuoka?” Zhao asked slowly. Sullivan shuddered. It was like all the natural warmth had just been sucked from the air. “Major Matsuoka?”
“Yes. I am the commander of the Second Sector Garrison. You will free me or face terrible consequences.”
Sullivan could feel the sudden Power draw in the air. “You’re the one who had my mother and father tortured.” It dropped ten degrees in an instant. “You’re the one who ordered their execution.” The air got colder. “You’re the one who had their bodies…” colder. “hung on a bridge for the whole city to see.”
So very cold.
Matsuoka began shaking uncontrollably.
There was a sphere of terrible, piercing, life-sucking cold, and it was directed at the secret policeman. Matsuoka’s skin was turning blue. “You put up a sign. You called them traitors. Enemies of the people, it said. The sign encouraged everyone to throw rocks at the bodies. And people did, because that is what traitors deserve…”
Sullivan was shivering. The policeman’s skin was starting to pucker and crystalize. He thought about just pulling the Webley and putting a bullet into the man. It didn’t make tactical sense to waste Zhao’s valuable Power, simply because they might be needing every bit they could scrape up if they got spotted and had to fight their way out, but then again, sometimes you just had to get your personal business out of the way. He looked to Zhao. “Don’t let him start screaming, because I don’t want the attention.”
“Do not worry.” Zhao’s brows were knit in concentration. “He won’t.”
The policeman looked to Sullivan, eyes pleading, but only steam was coming out of his open mouth. Blood turned to slush and froze in his veins. Then the water in his eyes turned to ice and his eyeballs cracked.
“All yours, kid.” Sullivan walked away.
The air was considerably warmer at the front of the boat, but Sullivan remained chilled to the bone. He counted four heads bobbing on the water, all of them holding onto a life preserver or each other as Barns hauled them in. Sullivan took hold of the rope too and dragged them in faster. It was three men from the Traveler and one of Zhao’s men. The first one pulled into the boat was young Mike Willis. He’d been shot and had one hand pressed to his side. Blood was coming from between his fingers.
“Where’s everybody else?” Sullivan asked.
“We’re it,” the knight gasped. “Five of us made it to the bottom. Mottl got stuck in the tunnel and drowned… I couldn’t pull him out in time. There wasn’t anybody behind us.”
“Lance?”
He shook his head. “Just me, Genesse, Simmons, and Yip.”
“Hell…” Sullivan looked to the giant funeral pyre, but there was no hope to be found there. The smoke was stinging his eyes.