Feng yanked the speaker free of the wall, swung it back again with both hands, drove it forward.
Then the wall exploded and something huge burst in. Kade saw it in slow motion through Feng’s eyes but it was too late, too slow. The armored jeep’s massive front end struck the speaker and then Feng, and then he disappeared as the vehicle roared into the club.
41
BATTLE ROYALE
Saturday October 27th
Shiva clenched his fists as the first view of the scene appeared. Overhead, their quartet of drones reached the site. Each was a meter-wide flying wing, radar absorbent, color shifting, propelled by twin fuel-cell-powered engines, loaded with cameras and small, lethal weapons.
On screen their cameras showed an armored jeep surging down the street, scattering people, striking some head on, and then crashing in through the wall of the club. From the other direction a second armored jeep was coming. Young men and women jumped out of its way, not all of them fast enough.
Hayes yelled into his microphone, “Fire on incoming vehicle. Fire on snipers.”
Over the city, the drones launched cigar-thick micromissiles – small carbon-and-titanium javelins – that ignited their solid rocket boosters, canted their control fins, and bolted out towards their targets on streaks of white-hot flame.
Explosions lit up the screens, boomed through the audio pickups. Bright flashes flared on the rooftops across from both entrances to the club. He saw a burning man-sized shape tumbling from one to the street below. The front of the second jeep burst into flames as two darts struck it. The armored vehicle careened down the street, out of control, veered left, away from the club, rammed into the crowd at high speed, and embedded itself into the building across the street.
Shouts and cries rose from the crowd.
The bounty hunters’ channel burst into chaos, voices stepping all over each other.
“Missiles. Hit… Snipers down. Fire.”
But there was still the jeep inside the building. They couldn’t fire on it. They didn’t know what was going on.
“Get us in there,” Shiva snapped at Hayes.
Kade flinched as the armored jeep crashed through the wall just inches from him. It roared forward and Feng disappeared with a burst of mental pain. The jeep skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust and rubble. Water shot out from a severed wall pipe. The jeep’s doors opened and four men leapt out. They wore full body suits with hard plates, reinforced joints, and black armored masks that fully concealed their faces. In their hands were submachine guns. Strapped to their sides were more weapons. On their backs were air supplies.
Kade shrank back behind the speakers, tried not to breathe, tried not to cough. He could feel Feng out there still. Every other mind was fading out now, as the gas reached every corner of the club. He could feel pain and fear from those still clinging to consciousness.
He cranked up his adrenaline and acetylcholine levels higher, trying to counteract the wooziness he felt from the gas. He could feel Feng gritting his teeth, clamping down on the pain and focusing. The four troopers were searching, turning over bodies with their feet. Searching for him.
Feng spoke in his mind. He sounded tired, in pain. Run. I’ll fight them.
NO, Kade replied. He activated Bruce Lee. Targeting circles appeared in his vision. I’m not going without you.
He felt Feng shake his head mentally. You’re the dumbest friend I have.
I’m the only friend you have, Feng, Kade replied.
Yeah. Like I said, Feng chuckled in reply.
Then Feng was up, and the world froze. A long piece of steel pipe was in his hand. He was behind an armored trooper, bringing the pipe around in a viciously fast swing at the man’s helmeted head. The bounty hunter jerked, alerted by something, started to turn. Then Feng’s pipe hit him at incredible speed.
The blow rocked the man to the side, sent a spiderweb of cracks out through his visor, knocked him off balance. Feng swung back at the man’s knees, lighting fast, swept the soldier’s feet out from under him. For an instant Kade saw the man suspended in midair, hanging there supine, his feet off the ground, caught frozen in the midst of his backwards topple, immobile in Feng’s accelerated perceptions.
Then time resumed. The man crashed to the floor, flat on his back, his gun firing, muzzle flare erupting from it, bullets spraying into the ceiling, their paths zipping rays of red light in Feng’s battle vision.
Then Feng was on one knee, the pipe driven into the man’s throat and embedded into the floor beyond like a spear, blood fountaining everywhere.
Feng rolled as he finished the blow, taking the man’s submachine gun with him. The other troopers were yelling now, turning. One opened fire as Feng rolled behind the bar.
The other two turned as well. All three fired into the bar. Kade picked one, clicked to designate him as a target, and jammed on the full attack button.
Bruce Lee hurled Kade’s body into a flying kick, weak and off-balance from the gas. The bounty hunter turned and smacked Kade out of the air. The blow sent him reeling.
[Bruce_Lee: Attack Failed L]
Then the man had Kade by the arm, was dragging him towards the armored jeep, shoving him in the open door.
Then there was static, everywhere, spheres of static, Nexus static.
And the head of the bounty hunter who had him exploded.
Nakamura milled through the club called Mango, his backpacker costume in place, upgraded slightly for a Saturday night. Nexus was everywhere here. This was the kind of place Lane would feel at home in. If he’d let his guard down sufficiently…
[Shots fired, 819 Bùi Viện Street]
The alert was pulled from the Vietnamese People’s Police network. That address was at the other end of the Bến Thành district. Another club with a concentration of Nexus.
Nakamura turned and pushed his way against the crowd, swam like a fish against the current, until he was through the doors and out into the night. His jeep was back at his apartment, impractical in the maze of streets here. The club where the alert had come from was just over a mile away. Nakamura broke into a run. He’d be there in three minutes.
Shiva watched the feeds as his soldiers stormed the building, took down the two remaining bounty hunters. The club was a shambles. One wall had been destroyed, the windows blown out. Revelers were strewn about, many injured, some bleeding or broken or dead from the impact of the jeep or the crossfire of bullets. The rest were unconscious.
“There,” he said and tapped on the screen. “Lane.”
Hayes nodded, and the medic rushed forward.
Someone grabbed Kade, a new man, in a respirator but no armor.
The man was fitting a respirator over Kade’s head, then patting him down, yelling something through the mask and over the sound of the ringing alarm.
“What?”
What’s happening?
The sound of the alarm ended abruptly.
“Are you hurt?” the man yelled again.
“Feng,” Kade said, muffled through the mask over his head. Then Feng was up, a submachine gun in his hand. There was blood splattered on his face, blood on his shirt, blood on his pants.
“Get back,” Feng said.
Kade struggled to take in the situation. There were seven of the new force. Six with guns, plus the one leaning over him. They wore masks and sleek black fighting armor, less bulky than the bounty hunters, but even more deadly-looking. They had silenced automatic weapons in their hands, but none were pointed at him.