She let out a long breath and surveyed the operation. It was here. Months of work. Months of promising Reddi her leads were good. Months of connecting theft records, witness accounts, and money trails. And here it was. A large-scale smuggling base set up directly underneath the city, funded by — best she could guess — a mix of Outer Cities interests and the Set.
It was actually here. By Harmony’s True Name … she’d done it.
Wayne looked to her with a wide smile on his face, then nudged her in the shoulder. “Nice,” he whispered. “Real nice.”
“Thanks,” she whispered.
“When you tell the constable-general about this,” he said, “leave out the part where I whined because of the sewage.”
“And the bad jokes?”
“Nah. Leave those in. You gotta give people what they expect, or they won’t believe your lies when you tell them.”
Marasi took in the sight. Thirty-seven people, counting the two guards, all armed. Even the menial workers wore holsters. Judging by the leads she’d been tracing, those boxes would be full of military supplies — with a frightening number of explosive components. The gang had tried to cover their tracks by making some more mundane thefts as well, but she was confident she knew what was really happening here.
Elendel had been squeezing the Outer Cities by refusing to let certain items — including weapons — be shipped out of Elendel, which was a central hub for all the train lines. This group was acting like an ordinary gang with their shakedowns and the like, but she was almost a hundred percent certain their purpose was to funnel weapons toward Bilming, current capital of Outer Cities interests.
She didn’t like the Outer Cities being forced to work this way — but these gang members had killed innocent people on the streets. Plus, they were likely collaborating with some kind of evil god bent on the subjugation or destruction of the world.
“Right, then,” Wayne whispered, pointing. “See that fellow near the back in the nice outfit? He’s a Set member for certain. Maybe the new Cycle.”
Marasi nodded. Cycle was the lowest level of real officer in the Set. They were local bosses that operated gangs of hired muscle. Miles Hundredlives had been a Cycle, reporting to the Suit above him. This man was dressed in an upscale way — visibly more decorated than the others in the cavern. He was also lean, muscular, and tall. As a Cycle, he might be Metalborn. So they’d best not underestimate him in a fight.
“You plug that fellow in the head with a nice rifle shot,” Wayne said, “and I bet the entire group will fold to us.”
“That isn’t how things work in the real world, Wayne,” Marasi whispered.
“Sure it is,” Wayne said. “If that’s the guy payin’ them, those other sods got no reason to keep fightin’.”
“Even if you were right — and I sincerely doubt you are — that’s not how we’re going to do this. Confirmation, coordination, backup, and proper authorization. Remember?”
“I try not to,” he grumbled. “Can’t we do this one my way? I got nothin’ against some blokes just doin’ their jobs, but I’d hate to hike through all that muck again, then return here and find this lot gone. Let’s bring ’em in now.”
“No,” she said. “Your way involves too much chaos.”
“That’s a bad thing because…”
“Well, there’s the whole officers of the law thing.”
“Right, right,” he said, then checked in his coat to reveal a shiny badge. It wasn’t something they used in the city, preferring their paper credentials.
“Is that … Wax’s old badge from the Roughs?” she asked.
“He traded it to me.”
“For?”
“Half a meat-’n’-ale bun.” Wayne grinned. “He’ll find it eventually. They get real hard to ignore.”
She shook her head, waving him back down the tunnel. They had to keep their lantern darkened though — and that made it difficult to see. So despite being careful, as they returned to the main tunnel they surprised a guard who had stepped that direction to relieve himself.
He glanced at them in the darkness, then shouted. Wayne had him down and knocked out half a second later, but cries of alarm sounded from the direction of the main cavern.
Still standing atop the body, Wayne looked to her and grinned again. “My way it is!”
4
There was no way for Marasi and Wayne to escape using the difficult route they’d taken to get here — not with the entire gang on their tails. Beyond that, she wanted to capture that Cycle, who would certainly vanish after this.
Unfortunately all of this meant Wayne was right. So much for protocol.
It was time to do this his way.
They burst into the main tunnel, where the other guard had his gun pointed toward them. Wayne tossed up a speed bubble, giving him and Marasi time to step aside and flank the guard.
Once the speed bubble dropped, the gangster fired into now-open space. Wayne was on him a moment later, laying into him with dueling canes. Marasi left him to it, instead picking her spot. Beyond the card table was a wide tunnel presumably leading into the main warehouse cavern. She went to one knee and raised her rifle, sighting, calming herself, waiting …
She fired the moment someone appeared from that direction. Only her training on the range prevented her from immediately trying to cycle the bolt on her gun. This was a new semiautomatic Bastion rifle, and so she kept it shouldered and downed the next person who stumbled over the falling body. Those behind called a warning, and no one dared come barreling in after that.
Wayne wiped his brow, leaving an unconscious gangster on the floor. “You got the magic boxes?”
“They’re not magic, Wayne,” Marasi said. “Malwish technology is just different but—”
“Magic boxes from your boyfriend. How many?”
“I have three Allomantic grenades,” she said. “All of the new design. And two flash-bangs. Wax charged one of the grenades for me before we left.”
“Nifty,” Wayne said. “Got a plan?”
“You hold the tunnel. I’ll go back to that overlook and toss some Allomantic grenades to catch groups of enemies, then cover you as you move in. Once you’re out of the line of fire, I’ll follow.”
“Good as done!” Wayne said, and they split, him heading toward the two people she’d dropped. There he picked up one of their handguns and fired it a bunch of times into the main chamber — not to hit, but to make those beyond take cover. His hand wobbled a little, and he tossed the weapon aside as soon as it was empty, but it was excellent progress. Not that he needed to be more deadly, she supposed.
She left him, rounding to the overlook, which made a decent sniper spot. She picked out several groups of gangsters behind nearby boxes, watching as Wayne fired a second gun.
Marasi carefully took a small metal box from the pouch on her belt. All her life she had suffered disappointment and even dismissal because of her useless Allomantic talent. She could slow time around herself, which was … well, not much use. It essentially froze her to the perspective of everyone around her — removing her from a fight, giving the advantage to her enemies.
She’d found occasional uses for it, but mostly she’d internalized the presumed truth that her abilities were weak.
Then she’d met Allik.
His people revered all Metalborn, Allomancers and Feruchemists alike. Though he’d been in awe of Wax and his flashy powers, Allik had been equally impressed with her abilities. She had one of the most useful Allomantic skills, he claimed. That had been difficult to accept, but the upshot was that if you had access to a little specialized technology, you could turn the world on its head.