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“We are today.”

Kono felt chills radiate from her heart to her brain. The first thing that struck her was guilt. No way would she allow any cop to die whilst she hid out of sight. But how the hell was she going to escape on her injured ankle? The only answer lay in the small avenue of movement open to her.

Kono used a small plant pot to smash through her neighbor’s French windows, not caring how much noise she made. Then she slithered through into the thankfully empty apartment, piercing her skin with shards of glass but barely noticing. She rose and limped over to the kitchen area, quickly grabbing a carving knife. Not that it made her feel any better, but now she offered a slight threat at least. In a world where it was a dozen trained killers versus one mostly retired surf queen, any weapon could make all the difference. Kono wondered how long it would take them to race around the building and encounter the cops. Not long. She had to get out of here.

On second thoughts…

A light bulb moment made her stop and study the room. Mano and his associates were probably over at the Pentagon. How long would it take?

Not long.

Kono knew the protocols. She had called her brother many times, sometimes in peril and often in anger. She blamed him partly for the death of their mother, but knew she herself had made the decision to run away long before that. She had deserted the family home. But that had been easy when you expected your mother would always be there, right there, waiting and breathing and living and alive. You always knew you could go back.

It never occurred to Kono, a young girl, that one day her parents might not be there. Even though they wanted to be with every beat of their heart, every ounce of eternal love in their souls. But parents were fragile creatures too, as fragile as they believed their children would always be.

Kono tapped out Mano’s number and prayed for the big man to answer. He always did, of course, and this time was no different.

“Yeah? I’m busy, what do you want now?”

The brotherly greeting never changed. “I need you. They’re trying to kill me at my apartment. Jim’s dead. The cops… I don’t know. Help me, Mano.”

Her voice was pitched low, but Kinimaka’s came back at a high pitch. “What? Your apartment?”

The line went crackly; there was panting and pounding and incoherent shouting. Kono knew she couldn’t hang around in one place so placed the receiver back in its cradle. Mano would either get here in time or he wouldn’t. She couldn’t change that, but it did make her feel good to have him on the way.

Maybe it was time to stop blaming her big brother for her own mistakes.

Yeah, maybe it is.

Kono approached the door and listened. The corridor outside was in silence. It occurred to her then that the door would be locked from the outside. She needed a key to exit. It took her another minute to find where the spare key was hung — next to all the other keys — and then to quietly and slowly unlock the door.

The corridor stretched away in both directions, quiet for now, but this was no time to linger. She limped out and pushed at the door that led to the stairs, cocked her head to listen. Again, no sounds. Three minutes had passed since her call to Mano. How long would it take SPEAR to get here?

Gunshots now echoed up from the street below. Kono inched her way to the staircase and put her face to the grimy window that looked outside. Her vision was limited, but part of the street in front of her apartment was visible. Jim’s cop car still stood there with its nasty embellishment, but next to it now sat two other cop cars. Kono could see their occupants were kneeling and bobbing, engaged in a firefight. Clearly, the cops were under attack and even she, a civilian, knew that men such as the ones hunting her would only tolerate that as part of a deeper plan.

They were coming for her.

Kono hobbled painfully down a floor to help mix it all up, then poked her head around the exit door. The first floor was also quiet. Could her stalkers have taken the elevator? Please, please be on the elevator.

She turned back to survey the scene outside, staying low. Four cops knelt behind two cars with unknown assailants pinning them down from the side of the building and, Kono guessed, several other obstacles. It was a play for time that the cops wouldn’t be expecting. As Kono watched and hoped and tried to keep her weight on one leg a sudden ping announced that the elevator had arrived.

And it stood right next to the staircase.

Questions hit Kono, quickly followed by doubts and second guesses. She was not a soldier who could make snap decisions. If she went up she would be trapped again and they might hear her. If she exited the building she would be exposed in the street. If she stayed here… only fortune would save her.

Don’t overthink, just do. Kono chose freedom, placed her hand on the exit handle and pushed. Instantly, street noises flooded her ears. Shouting and shooting and men screaming into radios. What she hadn’t counted on was the sounds being overheard by those who hunted in the corridor. There was a sudden banging and the door behind her smashed open, followed by a gun barrel. Kono hobbled out into the street.

Caught in the middle of a gunfight she suddenly wished she had thrown on a scarf or a hat or even a big overcoat. Anything to hide her identity. Because out here, now, the gunmen recognized her easily.

“Shoot her!”

Kono slipped along the side of the building toward the cops. The glass window at her back exploded as men inside shot through, trying to take her head off. Shards attacked her exposed flesh. She ducked, the sudden movement buckling her ankle and sending her to the floor. A bullet slammed into the brick wall at her back. Gunmen were slipping out from behind obstacles to ensure she was properly in their sights. One whirled as a cop’s bullet entered his chest. His cohorts stepped closer, uncaring.

Kono looked up. The sky was black.

At least I went down fighting.

Shots rang out, the ground around her convulsing with lead. She waited for the first deadly missile to enter her body, strangely impassive, knowing she had put up a good final battle. It was the heavily strenuous sound of gunfire that finally got through to her — no way was that coming from the gunmen. Looking around she caught her breath to see two black helicopters slowly descending, black-clad men leaning out and loosing endless salvos of bullets into the area where the gunmen had taken shelter. The volley seemed endless and louder than anything she had ever heard, the ground actually churning beneath its ferocity. Several bodies lay sprawled out, but more were returning fire, laying down an avenue of escape. Then rappel lines spiraled down toward the ground, quickly followed by men who unleashed compact sub-machine guns as they slithered to earth. Within seconds they landed, squatted and lined up their weapons. Two broke away to make a bee-line for Kono.

“I… I…” she didn’t quite know what to say.

Mano Kinimaka lowered his face helmet. “You okay, sis?”

“I… I think so.”

Hayden Jaye checked her over quickly. “Nothing seems broken. Get after them!” she shouted at a black-clad agent who had been looking to cover them. He quickly veered toward the gunmen.

“All this firepower,” Kono said incredulously. “For me?”

Kinimaka shrugged. “Dead men don’t shoot back,” he growled. “At least not until the Russians or Chinese fuck up in some laboratory somewhere.”

Kono stared at him, but Mano only smiled. “It’s good to see you, sis.”

Hayden pointed to the wall. “Let’s get something solid at your back. Are there any other gunmen?”

Kono nodded. “In the apartment block. First floor staircase.” It occurred to her then that only two members of the SPEAR team were present. “Where’s the rest of you guys?”