SWITCHBLADE (Choi Ziyi Book 1) Page 10

  The General silenced her with a kick in the face. "Fucking traitor. Put her in the APC." He headed back towards the armoured carrier as one of his men hooked his arm through Ziyi's. Her mind struggled to come to terms with what was happening as she was hauled to her feet. Why were they doing this to her? Why weren't they chasing the real kidnappers? Why was Control allowing this to happen?

  She looked up in the sky for a drone, wanting to at least make eye contact with Wing — even if she couldn't hear his voice in her head — and get him to put a stop to this madness. It was only then that she realised what had been out of place earlier — there were no drones. The sky was empty. No one watched. Someone had arranged a dark zone so the troops could arrest her or kill her with total deniability. Someone with real power. She staggered under the implications, and for a heartbeat, the fight went out of her.

  The trooped holding her tightened his grip to stop her falling again, and she used the momentum of his action to launch herself into his him. She smashed her forehead into the trooper's visor, shattering the glass and breaking the man's nose, dropping him instantly. The General wasn't the only one with a mek-enhanced skull.

  As he crumpled to the ground, she yanked her arms apart, snapping the plexi-cuffs, and grabbed the trooper's assault rifle in one motion. She fired controlled bursts, aiming only at their body armour. She didn't want to kill anyone — after all the troops could be loyal to the Empire and only following orders — but she was getting out of there. Being a prisoner wasn't going to save Xiao.

  She kept her finger on the trigger, sweeping through all before her. At such close range, the bullets hit their armour with enough force to knock them off their feet, creating a gap, but wouldn’t kill anyone. She sprinted for the opening, hoping she wasn't going to get shot herself in return. Another burst from her gun spun a trooper three hundred and sixty degrees before he hit the dirt. She leaped over his body, and headed towards the watching crowds and Wan Chai. If she was quick enough, she could lose herself there.

  Bullets howled through the air a second later, chasing her every step. Ziyi slid behind a parked car, shredding her dress and tearing the skin from her leg as rounds rattled against the vehicle. Its windows exploded, showering her with glass. The car shook with each impact as the metal protested under the assault. People screamed and ran for cover, while others died because they didn't have the wits about them to move, but nothing stopped the hail of lead.

  She had to get off the main street fast. The car wasn't going to withstand much more punishment. Pumping a grenade into the launcher, she threw herself backwards onto the ground. She aimed up above where she guessed the APC to be, and pulled the trigger. The gun kicked as the grenade flew over the car. As it exploded into the side of a building, Ziyi popped up from behind the trunk and fired another burst at the police, adding to the chaos as concrete showered the vehicle.

  The explosion had taken a number of troopers down, but the APC was unmarked and Ziyi saw the gun turrets whirl into life, zeroing in on her. She threw herself away from the car as the guns roared into life. The blast from the exploding car hurled her further down the road. She managed to tuck herself into a roll as she hit the ground, but the impact rattled even her mek-skeleton. Without looking back, she jumped to her feet and ran as fast as she could. The APC continued to fire, pulverising neon, glass, concrete and steel. Debris sliced through the air in every direction. She ignored the stings to her back. Bits of glass and rock weren't going to kill her. Looking back or slowing down would.

  Just ahead was a flesh bar. Ziyi threw herself through its blacked out window. She rolled across the beer soaked floor as glass showered down around her. The customers and working girls ran to the far corners of the bar, their screams mingling with the thumbing bass pumping out over the sound system as she got to her feet. Even so, she could still hear the rumble of the APC in motion. Time to move.

  She headed towards the exit sign, glowing in the rear of the bar. Without breaking stride, she pushed down on the door's release bar, ducked under a dangling florescent tube, ran past the one hour rooms and up a set of metal stairs.

  She'd only gone three steps when the thump thump of APC rounds pulverised the bar behind her, ripping up fixtures, fittings and people alike. A few rounds made it into the corridor, ricocheting this way and that as Ziyi crashed through another door.

  Another thirty yards took her into another bar, where it was just another night in the Chai, as the dance music drowned out the cacophony of destruction behind her, leaving everyone unaware of the fast approaching danger. A bar girl saw her, bloodied and armed, and screamed but the rest of the place kept on dancing.

  Ziyi shouldered her way through the crowd, smacking one man in the face with the rifle butt when he didn't move quickly enough. A hand grabbed her shoulder and she spun around, assault rifle raised and ready to fire, but it was just another fool in the Zeros, so she let him live. They'd be enough bullets coming his way soon enough.

  A doorman put a hand up to stop her but once he saw her bloodied face and weapon, he quickly moved to one side. The neon-baked street outside was filled with people unbothered by the sounds of a war zone one block over. Lowering the rifle, she walked into the heart of the crowd, keeping her head down and letting her hair fall over her face. She fought the urge to keep running. Her best hope was to blend in with everyone around her and not give the cameras anything to pick up on. She headed east, unsure of where to go, just wanting to put distance between her and her pursuers.

  Shouts from up ahead told her things weren't going to be that easy. Drones zipped overhead, filling the sky. More and more of them by the second. Their scanners swept the crowds. Ziyi had no doubt they were looking for her. After she'd escaped, it made sense to put the drones back to work.

  "Attention! This is the Police. Remain where you are and prepare to be scanned. Repeat — prepare to be scanned." The voice came from the drones, amplified and distorted but the message was clear. She craned her head to peak over the top of the crowd and spotted two APCs blocking the end of the street, troops spilling out of both.

  The street erupted into chaos at the sight of the police. It was the Zeros after all. Everyone around her had either already broken a law or planned to do so — so cops weren't welcome. The crowd pushed forwards and backwards in equal measure as more APCs arrived to block off the other end of the road as well. Ziyi let herself be pushed along with everyone as she looked for a way out. At least the confusion would work in her favour.

  More surveillance drones launched from the APCs to scan the crowds. The small spheres zipped overhead, laser scanners running over everyone's faces, locking on their retinas and taking names. Ziyi kept her head down. As long as they didn't get a direct fix, she had a chance.

  As she moved to the edge of the crowd, she spotted a trooper arguing with a liqueur shop owner. She crossed over, spun him around by the shoulder and pressed the rifle against the trooper's chest. The man looked down at the barrel, and then back up at Ziyi. She couldn't tell if he recognised her behind his visor. But it didn't matter. She punched him in the throat. He went down gagging. I would be a long time before he could radio anyone for help. Her training told her that she should kill him just to be sure but her heart wouldn't allow it.

  "What are you..." Ziyi pushed past the store-owner before he could say anymore. She squeezed down the aisle of the narrow shop, heading towards the rear exit. There was shouting behind her and she turned, ready to shoot but it was just civilians, two men and a girl, intent on looting the shelves, already tussling with the store owner. A blood-covered woman with a gun meant nothing when there was shit to be stolen in the Zeros. She took no chances all the same, walking backwards, covering them, as she made her way to the rear exit. She felt sorry for the shop owner, but his wouldn't be the only business that'd get stripped that night.

  She exited into an alley. It was deserted apart from a mangy black cat guarding some trash cans. It hissed as Ziyi passed. "Don't worry, I'm no
t staying," she said.

  Endless rows of laundry hung from clotheslines above her head. A single shot cut one line, dropping the washing into her hands. Ziyi removed her blood-soaked dress and slipped on some black trousers, a grey t-shirt and a black hooded sweat top. The clothes were still damp but she was glad to be in something less conspicuous. She still needed to get cleaned up properly, but hopefully it would be enough for now.

  The sounds of rioting echoed off the buildings around her but at least the drones were still on the main streets and not in the alleyways. The police wouldn't stop until they found her, disguised or not. Her best bet was to just get as far away as possible, drop off the grid, and look out for herself. Others could find Xiao, and clear her name in the process. The odds weren't in her favour if she were to try and fight the authorities while she searched for Xiao. Even Control had turned against her.

  But what if Xiao was killed before the police tracked him down? What if the authorities were part of the plot to kidnap him in the first place? What if Ziyi was the only one who could save him? Running away wasn't the answer. She'd sworn an oath to protect him with her life, not abandon him the moment he really needed her. She been trained for this — had most of her body replaced so she could deal with situations like this. There was no running away.

  She pulled the magazine from the assault rifle and cursed when she saw the magazine was empty. She thought about going back for the last trooper's ammo, but dismissed the idea just as quickly. She dumped the weapon on the ground. There was no point holding onto the gun, and drawing any more attention to herself if she had no bullets.

  Barefoot, Ziyi jogged to the end of the alley and jumped over the fence. She pulled the hood over her head as she slipped in amongst the floods of people stampeding away from the main centres of trouble. Behind her, the police called for calm as they tried to wrestle back some sort of control. They might as well have tried turning night into day.

  The drones continued to zip overhead but as long as she didn't make eye contact, she wasn't too worried about them.

  The crowd funnelled down the narrow space between the buildings and the hawker stalls. Anything that wasn't bolted down was picked clean by the mob as it passed. Ziyi passed more smashed store windows, the insides full of empty shelves. She hoped to see a pair of boots or shoes to grab but the mob was leaving little in its wake.

  Shoes could wait though. Getting out of the Zeros and getting back up-level as fast as possible had to be the priority. She passed a Mass Transit Elevator station, where people were fighting in attempt to squeeze into the cramped tubes. Ziyi had no interest in joining the scrum as entry was controlled by retina scans like everything else. Any attempt to board an elevator would just bring the police down on her in seconds.

  Her chances of getting out on foot didn't look too good either as more police flooded the area. Cars and bikes blocked off the streets. Flashing blue lights and blaring sirens seemed to be everywhere, herding the crowds away from the centre of Hong Kong and back towards the water.

  She turned into Lockhart Road. A scuffle broke out amongst some bar girls and a punter who had tried to take advantage of the situation to avoid paying what he owed. A doorman beckoned to the inside of his club, promising it was business as usual inside. A car tried making its way down the road but quickly got swamped by bodies swarming over it. The driver's window got smashed and he was dragged, kicking and screaming, from the vehicle as the crowd stripped it in seconds.

  Ziyi spotted a gap between two buildings and headed for it.

  "Hey," said a man, all bleached hair and skin. A wannabe albino gang member. He grabbed her hood, pulling it off her face. "You're..."

  She head butted him before he could say another word. Not too hard that she'd cave his skull in, but hard enough to put him down for a count. Stepping over his unconscious body, she hurried along the road.

  A giant video screen covering one side of the building suddenly went black as she passed it. It was enough to stop most people in their tracks. When it came back to life, the perfume ad that previously filled it was gone and the face of Greg Anderson had replaced it, simultaneously appearing on other screens up and down Lockhart Road as well.

  "My name is Greg Anderson of the Free American Army. As of twenty-two hundred hours, we have Xiao Jia, son of Da Yu and the heir to the Chinese Empire, in our custody." The camera pulled back to show Xiao, bound and gagged behind him.

  Screams broke out from the crowd around Ziyi as they watched. Horror and fury clashed inside her, allowing little room for her relief at seeing Xiao alive.

  "In exchange for his safe return," Anderson continued, "we demand the full withdrawal of all Imperial troops and officials from the United States of America, the return of all land stolen by your settlers and the reinstitution of our independence. If our terms are not agreed upon within twenty-four hours, we will start returning His Imperial Highness back to the Empire piece by piece. God bless America."

  Anderson straight into the camera as it pulled back to reveal another prisoner. Ziyi was bound and gagged in a chair next to Xiao.

  12

  Wing

  As Wing jumped, he was aware of everything — the fat man's grasping hands just behind him, the stunned faces of the people waiting in line at the exit ramp, the air in his lungs, the muscles in his legs propelling him, then the sudden pull of gravity as he dropped, but more than anything else, of death waiting in the sea of lights below. Time slowed. He had no time to think but all the time in the world to think it, as his body tipped forward and he thrust his own hands out to grasp safety.

  He landed on the exit's side railing, rattling as it absorbed the impact. He tucked his arm around it to secure himself, as his feet scrambled for purchase on the bottom ledge. The wind had been knocked out of his lungs but breathing wasn't his concern at that point. He only cared about not falling. His right foot slipped off and flailed in the air, but he held on, too scared to move or climb to safety.

  Wing looked at the shocked faces around him, all staring bug-eyed at seeing someone jump from a moving elevator. Just as he thought they were going to watch him fall, someone reached over and grabbed him by the arms, pulling him to safety. He landed in a heap on the floor, surrounded by legs. His stomach lurched as he realised what he had just done. He sucked in lungfuls of air as the shock hit him.

  "You all right?"

  The voice startled Wing. He looked up and saw concerned faces looking down at him. "Yeah... I'm good...I..." Wing replied, but he heard someone cry out near the escalator, and he didn't need telling twice that the fat man was coming for him again, pushing people out of the way on the escalator, forcing his own way to the exit. Wing pushed himself to his feet, locked eyes with the fat man, and propelled by fear, he scrambled backwards.

  "Watch it," someone complained but Wing didn't care about stepping on anyone's feet, he just didn't want to die. He waded through the waiting crowd to the main road, using elbows and hands to clear his way. He passed screens showing the mayhem in Kowloon and Central. It seemed like another lifetime when he'd been watching the same scenes from the Pod.

  The sidewalk was packed with people and the road jammed with cars. A few of the cabs had their lights on, showing they were accepting passengers, but he ignored them. Being trapped inside a car that wasn't moving didn't seem like a good option. He looked right, up the street, and then left, not recognising any landmarks. An old granny stared up at him from her lychee stall, eyes full of hope at a possible sale. Across the street, a couple argued over the price of durians.

  Where the fuck was he? Wing was frozen with indecision. He looked back and saw the fat man only a few yards away. That made his mind up. He ran left, zig-zagging through the crowds then cut across the street, squeezing through the barely moving cars. A driver honked as Wing skidded over the bonnet of his car, but he kept on going. His lungs burned as he ran. Forty a day and late nights on the slice hadn't left him in the best shape. Already it felt like he wasn't in cont
rol of his legs - he wasn't sure he could stop if even wanted to.

  He heard a thump and looked back. A car had hit the fat man and come off the worse for it, its bonnet crumpled around the man's legs — as if Wing needed anymore confirmation the assassin was meked up.

  Wing staggered as his leg nearly gave way on him, and he bounced off another car. He managed to run another few yards as he fought to stay upright, arms flailing wildly, but he soon went down hard on the ground, bashing his knees and grazing his hands on the tarmac. He clambered back to his feet, using the side of a car to help. His mouth was so dry even breathing seemed impossible.

  He spotted an elevator to his right, and stumbled towards it like a drunk after a long night's bender. He daren't look behind him, but at any moment, he expected to be lifted off his feet. The doors opened as he reached it. Three people got out and two waited to get in. Wing pushed past them all and fell into the tube.

  "What the fuck are you doing, man?" asked one of them, a Causeway Bay hipster, but all Wing could see was the fat man closing in. He hauled himself up, fixed his eye over the scanner while bashing the button to get the door to close. The couple managed to get in before the doors shut with a reassuring thud, stopping the fat man.

  Having a foot of plexi-glass between him and his would-be assassin gave Wing renewed confidence, and he blew the fat man a kiss as he pressed the button for his level. The man screamed in frustration then punched the elevator tube. His fist smashed through the glass and stopped a hair's breadth away from Wing's face. He jumped back, screaming, to avoid the fat man's grasping hand.

  The elevator hummed into life, and the fat man only just managed to get his hand free before it dropped down the tube to the lower levels. Wing sank to the floor, as he struggled to come to terms with what had happened.

  The hipster and his girlfriend stared at him in wide-eyed horror.