Korra sat at the edge of the bed with her head in her hands, trying to convince herself that the situation was under control. Surely there was just a big misunderstanding; some petty miscommunication that could easily be resolved.
"Ugh!" she punched the mattress in frustration. Then she got up to slam the window shut; the birds singing outside were getting on her frayed nerves. Just then, Tarrlok entered the room, strolled across the room, and wrapped his arms around her. She shoved him away.
"Beifong called. She wants us to turn Noatak in by midnight."
"Oh."
"She says if we don't complete the job, she'll send in someone else and detonate this," Korra pointed first to the tiny scab over her chest, and then to the one over his.
"Well, you can easily get rid of those."
"That's not the point. We came here on a mission."
"So we did."
"Tarrlok, this is serious. We've been distracted. Noatak has been playing us."
Tarrlok scowled and turned away from her. Then he crossed the room and opened the window. "Playing us?" he asked irritably.
Korra clenched her fists. "Yes! He knows why we're here. He wants to convince us over to his side."
"That's a little reductive, don't you think?" he smirked and arched his brow. Korra wanted to punch him in the face.
"Reductive?"
"You're reducing the complex subtleties—"
"I understand the word," she snapped. "You're the one who can't see simple facts."
There was a poisonous silence.
"How many people has he killed?" Korra asked.
"Excuse me?"
"Beifong said that Noatak's killed many people. You were on the City Council. Heck, you led a Task Force against him. How. Many. People. Has. He. Killed."
He sighed and straightened himself, as though he were explaining something for the tenth time to a child. "It was a huge movement, Korra. He's not responsible for every accident…"
He rattled on. As Korra watched him rationalize and pontificate, a chill settled like a moth over her heart. For the first time, she grasped the foolishness of ever having expected Tarrlok to work against his brother. They were Yakone's sons, and they shared a primordial bond that nothing would ever break.
Time was running out. Korra stormed out of the room. She was going to have to capture Noatak by herself—she only hoped she would not have to contend with his brother too.
It was late afternoon and the sun was descending slowly into the horizon, casting long, sleepy shadows over the town square of Yu Dao. Customers dotted the sidewalk outside a bistro, which had set a few tables and chairs outdoors for its patrons to enjoy the balmy afternoon breeze. Easy conversation hummed through the air, and the comforting aroma of freshly brewed tea wafted down the street.
Slick with sweat from combing the town for the past hour, Korra approached the establishment with her target locked in sight. Seated at a small table with two companions and his back to the road was an imposing man in a military jacket, dark trousers, and boots. He had a hot cup of tea in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Korra marched up to him, grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around.
"What do you want, Noatak?" Korra demanded.
The ambient chatter was abruptly silenced.
Noatak set his cup down on the table and calmly flicked away the droplets that had spilled on his wrist. "To enjoy an afternoon with my friends," he replied coolly.
Korra did not waiver. "You knew what we came for, so why were you wasting our time? What do you really want?"
Noatak took an unhurried drag on his cigarette. "I hardly consider the time we spent together a waste, Korra," he gazed meaningfully at her. Then he tapped a segment of ash off his cigarette and watched it flicker to the ground. "But what is your hurry? You have till midnight."
Korra's eyes flashed. "You've been listening to my radio calls?"
"I don't eavesdrop," he replied. "But my friends tell me that your communications security is atrocious. You should tell Beifong."
Korra forced herself to keep a straight face and rummaged through her recent memory for any sensitive information she had exchanged over the air, trying to figure out what Noatak knew. This was not good.
As Korra calculated her next move, trying to ignore the desperate feeling that Noatak had preempted all of them, one of his companions spoke. She was a middle aged woman with large, angry scar running along her right forearm; it looked like it had been caused by fire.
"I don't know who you think you are," the woman with the scar said quietly, "but be careful. It's not just Amon you're dealing with."
Korra looked around in dismay. A small crowd had gathered around them, watching her with dozens of hostile stares.
Noatak smiled slowly and leaned back in his seat. "Now," he mused, "what do I really want?"
Columns of smoke rose in the distance and the metal factory that Noatak had brought them to just yesterday loomed into view. Tarrlok stepped on the accelerator of the mobile he had rented from a nearby garage, and screeched to a stop at the factory gate.
A lone guard at the security kiosk was listlessly tapping her baton on the table, counting the minutes to the end of her shift. "I'm Amon's brother Tarrlok," he said to her urgently. "I need to see him immediately."
The guard eyed him suspiciously, then pressed a button to speak into it. Moments later, a familiar voice replied.
"Let him in."
Tarrlok sped into the compound and brought the mobile to a stop outside the same entrance they had alighted at the day before. As soon as he slammed the door behind him, he was greeted by Meisa.
"Hello, Tarrlok," she smiled pleasantly at him. "What brings you here today?"
"I'm looking for my brother. I have to talk to him."
"He was just here this morning, but you missed him," she said. "He said he was meeting some friends at the square for tea in the afternoon. What's this about?"
Tarrlok chose his words carefully. "It's about the revolution," he replied. "I have news about developments in Republic City."
Meisa's eyes gleamed. "Ahh. Let's talk inside."
Having learned Noatak's current whereabouts, Tarrlok could have easily taken off. But something about the factory manager's response and demeanor urged him to stay and talk. She led him through the doors, past the furnaces, and into her office. It was a dingy room lined from wall to wall with filing cabinets. Coffee-stained documents and blueprints littered her desk. Tarrlok suppressed his disgust—he despised untidiness, but he was here for more important business.
"Can I offer you a some strong tea, and perhaps a bun? They're not very good, but I live on the stuff," Meisa chuckled.
Tarrlok wanted nothing more than to take her by the shoulders and give her a good shake, but years of conniving in the serpents' lair of big city politics had taught him better.
"How kind of you," he said, settling gracefully into the one seat that wasn't cluttered with papers. "I would love that."
Meisa busied herself with the refreshments while Tarrlok remained expertly nonchalant.
"So is this something Amon's inner circle is entitled to know, or is it too juicy to share?"
"Oh, I'm afraid it's far too juicy," Tarrlok said with a tantalizing smile. "I can only say it has to do with new strategic opportunities for consolidating the revolution. The sooner Amon receives this information, the sooner we can act on it."
"Oooh," Meisa said as she handed him a tray of tepid tea and mediocre pastries. "Somehow I'm not surprised that you were working with him this whole time. That Task Force was a brilliant cover."
"Of course," he lied. "How do you think he made it to Yu Dao?"
Meisa wheeled herself close to Tarrlok and leaned forward. "Well," she smiled conspiratorially, "you'll be glad to know that our comrades will be well equipped for the next stage."
"Oh?" Tarrlok took a sip of tea. "What good news do you have?"
"We've completed a new batch of replacement electric gloves for the ones that were confiscated in Republic City. And the electric guns are ready."
Tarrlok's stomach lurched and the blood drained from his face, but he continued smiling. "Electric guns," he mused. "That sounds serious. I've never seen one."
"That's because they're new," Meisa leaned back and smirked. "They're my brainchild. Hiroshi Sato was a competent replicator, but he never made anything that wasn't invented in Yu Dao first. Of course we never gave him our best designs."
Tarrlok nodded appreciatively and sank his teeth into a soggy pau, pretending to savor it. "So how do these electric guns work?"
"You see, the problem with the gloves was that you needed to be close to your target," she explained. "But the electric gun can shoot a charged, barbed wire over a distance of ten meters into a target's heart. The voltage is adjustable. You can shoot to stun, or kill."
Tarrlok stifled a choke and composed himself. "Well," he said, "it's about time we got tough on the benders."
"I am glad you feel this way," she said. "And trust me, they will pay. I always told Noatak that cleansing them of their impurities was too easy. All they do is act like martyrs afterward, like being a non-bender is the worst thing on earth."
"Indeed," Tarrlok replied and dusted the crumbs off his fingers. "Meisa, it has been a pleasure speaking with you. Shall I convey this news to Amon when I see him, or would you like to do the honors?"
"Oh, he knows," Meisa replied as she shook his hand and showed him to the door. "The production deadline was yesterday. Cutting it a little too close to tomorrow's Operation, if you ask me."
Tarrlok bowed to her, sauntered back to his mobile, and then sped away.
"You do have a deadline this midnight," Noatak said to Korra, reclining in his seat.
"What do you mean?" she replied tersely. She could feel the crowd tensing around her.
"You've only seen the destructive side of the revolution in Republic City. But now I've shown you a glimpse of the everyday struggles and triumphs of non-benders. This is the true essence of the revolution: a society in which all of this is possible. Now you must choose which side of history you will stand on."
"I will never join you!"
"That's your mistake. You of all people could be a powerful advocate for equality."
"And what is my other choice?"
Noatak fixed her with a cool stare. "To be destroyed, once and for all."
An unbearable tension saturated the air. Korra maintained her outward composure while frantically weighing her dwindling options. If this had been a simple physical combat, she would have prevailed. But this was not a battle of strength. It was a battle of principles: the Avatar as the acme of bending, versus the liberator who had used his own abilities to take down people like her. If she attacked him, she might have to fight her way through the entire crowd. And if she attacked him with her bending, she would only prove his point and play right into his hands. He had maneuvered her into a trap.
Screw it, Korra thought. With a stamp of her foot, she punched up a column of rock from the ground below Noatak and flung him off his feet.
No sooner had Korra done that than a group descended upon her to tackle her to the ground, while Noatak pivoted like a cat in mid air and landed on his feet. An expression of surprise flickered over his face. The crowd erupted in hisses and jeers.
"Stand back, all of you," she commanded the mass of arms and legs pinning her down. "I don't want to hurt you."
The sound of the heckling crowd rang in Korra's ears. This was the first time in all of her Avatar career that she had been booed. "You harm us just by existing!" she heard someone shout.
"Kill her, Amon!"
"We don't care if you bend at her!"
Noatak raised his hands to silence them, then walked over to her. "I see you got your bending back," he said.
Still on her back with half a dozen people holding her down, Korra glared back him. "I'm the Avatar. You need to deal with it."
She contracted her body and drew herself in. When she pushed out, a force field of air accelerated away from her and flung her captors into the distance with the force of a detonation. Then she flipped up onto her feet, conjuring an eddy of wind to boost her jump and cushion her landing. The crowd drew closer and angrier, but she trained her sights on Noatak. Everybody else would have to get get out of the way or suffer the consequences.
She ignited her fists. People gasped and fled, clearing a path between her and Noatak.
"Fire-bandit!" hissed several voices from the crowd.
Korra ignored them and charged towards Noatak, blazing an incandescent trail behind her as he watched her attack with an expression of stone. When she was at a striking distance, she leapt into the air swung her fire down on him. He stepped aside easily. She straightened her jaw and hooked her fist into his side. He pivoted away, weaving around her like a butterfly. She pulled back her fist and lunged at him again. This time he caught her by the wrist and elbow, locked her arm, and flung her onto the ground.
The crowed circled them loosely and rained vicious taunts on her. Noatak towered above her, his eyes glittering. "You're just another bully, Avatar," he growled.
Korra bristled. She was not going to let Noatak, of all people, accuse her of being a bully. This ended now. She leapt to her feet and cleared the crowd around her with a fierce spout of wind. Then she gouged two boulders of earth from the ground and hurtled them towards him, two arrows converging on a single point. Noatak ducked under the trajectory of the missiles and closed the distance between himself and Korra with a supernatural speed. Before she could react, he delivered a crushing kick to the empty space beneath her sternum and sent her flying backwards. She tumbled roughly over the rock and gravel that she herself had loosened during her attack, and collapsed on her side.
The crowd cheered, baying for her destruction. Korra struggled to her knees, wracked by waves of nausea. When she looked up, individuals divided like cells into twos and threes, then shimmered back into place. Barely conscious, she fell forward onto her palms but her elbows buckled. Noatak was advancing towards her. In desperation, she heaved her last ounce of strength to the fore, reached for the water in Noatak's body, and pushed.
Noatak paused as she held him in place. Then he braced against her grip, reanimated his body with a twitch, and continued his advance towards her as though he were walking through nothing more than a thick fog. Korra gasped weakly and tried harder.
"So my brother taught you a trick or two," he said, looming inexorably towards her. "You bloodbend just like Tarrlok—when he was eight."
Pain wrenched Korra's lungs with every breath she took. She had not recovered in the few seconds since Noatak had kicked her and well-near knocked her out. Before she knew it, Noatak was standing behind her, his rough hand gripping the back of her neck and hoisting her onto her knees. She spun around and rammed her elbow into the side of his knee. Noatak grunted and buckled to the ground, but he rapidly regained his balance and steadied himself on one knee beside her with his hand still on her neck.
Korra squeezed her eyes shut as he wrapped his palm around her forehead.
Please, not again.
The shrill cacophony of the crowd faded away, and all she heard was the sound of her pulse throbbing through a dull underwater roar. With excruciating precision, she felt her tissues being sundered, cell from cell, starting at the surface of her skin, past her bones, and deep into her muscle tissue. As the fault line grazed her meridian, she felt the strength depart her body and seep away into the void.
But just as she was about to lose consciousness, his hands suddenly hands flew off her as an unseen force catapulted him some distance away.
"Korra!"
Korra turned towards the familiar voice. It was Tarrlok, but there was no time for him to help her. With the water he had used to knock Noatak off her, he formed a platform of ice and crouched low upon it as he arced it like a liquid wave towards Noatak. When he was close enough, he launched himself with a midair somersault off the edge of the ice, turned it back into water, and deluged Noatak with a furious tide. Faced with imminent death, Noatak could once again no longer afford his scruples. He cleaved the tide down the middle, redirected it around himself, and turned it back against his brother. The battle that followed was swift and savage, a melee of flood and ice that was impossible for onlookers to decipher.
The anger of the crowd started to boil. Never since the Fire Bandit attack had the people of Yu Dao seen such impunity in the use of bending for violence. Korra watched in dismay as people picked up rods, bottles, stones, and any other weapons they could improvise. This was precisely the situation she had tried to avoid.
"That's enough!" they cried.
"Disgraceful!"
"Leave Amon alone!"
Their shouts rang out and their voices crescendoed to a fever pitch. Like a large barrel of gunpowder, all it took was a tiny trigger for them to explode.
Korra looked anxiously toward the brothers. They were bruised and lacerated and their clothes were torn, but they were oblivious to the tension building around them. She struggled to her feet, hoping to diffuse the fight. Tarrlok was winning and Noatak was now on the ground—Korra had to intervene now before he killed him. But before she could even steady herself, Tarrlok shattered the water into hundreds of keen, glinting daggers, and propelled all of them towards his brother. Just then, a young man with an iron wrench stepped forward from the crowd, hoping to assist Noatak. When he saw the ice speeding towards him, he turned on his heels to run. But he was too late. A dagger plunged into his back and pierced through his sternum; then another, and another. He fell motionless to the ground in a pool of his own blood.
The crowd erupted. A roar of fury rang to the heavens like thunder. Sticks, stones, wrenches, and other objects were brandished with a terrifying singularity of purpose as a thousand angry eyes bore into the water bender who had murdered one of their own. No longer were they individual civilians afraid of the benders; they were now citizen executioners taking back their city.
Korra watched the tide of destruction unroll before her eyes, seconds stretching into hours. Tarrlok's eyes widened as he registered the blood-soaked body on the ground. As he stood stunned, a hand from behind grabbed his tattered collar and yanked him off his feet. A crowd swarmed over him and blotted him from Korra's vision. All she saw was a long metal pole being raised into the air and brought down on something on the ground. If Tarrlok said anything, she did not hear it over the voice of the crowd. Then, in the corner of her vision, a different group of people unable to reach Tarrlok turned towards her.
Left on her own, Korra would not have known what to do. But Korra was never alone. Inside her were the lives and wisdom of all her past selves, and the Avatar spirit that animated them all. Now that she was in genuine danger, they rallied to her aid. She closed her eyes to centre her focus, and when they flew open, they shone with white-hot brilliance—the sign of the Avatar State.
Korra conjured a vortex around her to repel the immediate crowd and lift her above the chaos. From her vantage point in the eye of a hurricane, she surveyed the masses. There must have been thousands of people. She swept her arms over the panorama and froze them in place, leaving out Tarrlok and Noatak. She had just bloodbended an entire crowd. The hold she placed them in was a gentle one that immobilized rather than hurt them. But although wisdom of the Avatars had chosen the most peaceful path, this was not what Korra wanted. These people had chosen a dictator and a murderer over her. Then they attacked her partner and nearly turned on her, about to rend them to pieces. She tightened her grip and a collective groan rose from the crowd.
Then she heard a voice speaking to her from within, and a familiar face materialized in her mind's eye.
"Korra," Aang said gently to her, "this isn't over and it never will be. But these people are not the enemy."
After he had spoken, a sense of peace and calm washed over Korra. She loosened her grip on the crowd, and instead soothed their energy lines as she would with an angry spirit, and lulled them all to sleep. All across the square, the people slumped to the ground in a gentle wave. The bright light in Korra's eyes faded away and she lowered herself to the ground, exiting the Avatar State.
Now she and the brothers were the only ones left standing. Noatak's eyes flashed from her to Tarrlok. Then he charged at his brother to end the battle. With a swipe of her hands, Korra drew two iron wrenches that had fallen from in the crowd, and propelled them towards Noatak. They sliced through the air like knives and clanged together as she welded a shackle around his wrists and ankles. Noatak roared in fury as he tumbled to the ground. Then he saw the water that Tarrlok had used against him lying in a puddle nearby, and pulled it towards him. But Tarrlok swiftly dispersed the water into droplets far from Noatak's reach, while Korra shot slabs of earth in a tent around him to fasten him in a kneeling position. He struggled and bellowed futilely: he was now immobilized.
Korra and Tarrlok looked at each other. Tarrlok's leg was bleeding heavily, but he was standing closer to Noatak than she was. She nodded at him.
With slow, heavy steps, Tarrlok stumbled towards his brother. Noatak's eyes widened and he thrashed against his restraints.
"No," he said to Tarrlok. "What are you going to do?"
Tarrlok placed his hand on Noatak's forehead.
"I am sorry, brother."
Medics busied themselves around Tarrlok, who was lying on a stretcher in an ambulance speeding back to Republic City. His calf was lacerated and his bone likely fractured. The two medics, both water healers, glided orbs of charged water up and down his wounds to stabilize them. The ambulance was ensconced within a convoy of police vehicles, their chorus of sirens wailing plaintively into the night. Somewhere nearby, Noatak was in a heavily guarded police van, on his way back to Republic City with them. He did not pose the same threat he once did, however: his bending was gone, and the trauma had drained him of all his energy.
Korra sat quietly beside Tarrlok and held his hand, her grazed arms spackled with iodine and bandages. Like Tarrlok, she would receive a full medical examination for internal injuries upon their return to Republic City, but for now she felt fine. Tarrlok winced slightly as the medics put his leg in a splint, then relaxed as they administered more healing water over him.
"Hang in there," Korra said tenderly and squeezed his hand.
"Did Beifong get the news?" he responded weakly.
Korra nodded. Tarrlok's first priority once they were safely outside the gates of Yu Dao had been to convey the news of tomorrow's planned operation back to Republic City.
"I'm glad you came back," Korra said. "Noatak was about to take my bending again."
He gingerly pulled her towards him and kissed her as the medics politely averted their eyes.
"I'd never leave you."