SIX DEGREES
A Gunslinger Girl fanfiction, based on works by Yu Aida.
Chapter 11|Swallows & Amazon
Hong Kong was getting ready for rain, again, heavy clouds hanging low in saturated air, their grey bases obscuring skyscraper tops and sucking colour from forests of overhanging signs, lending the city a closed in, claustrophobic atmosphere. Beneath those threatening skies a small figure slipped quietly through rush hour crowds, borne along in their current, never hurrying, never pushing against the flow as it drifted across the tightly packed street, a white cap pulled down to meet dark sunglasses: just another commuter headed home after a long day.
Claustrophobic indeed.
Reaching grimy shop fronts Monty paused and, taking a surreptitious look to ensure she remained unobserved, pushed aside thick plastic ribbons which blocked her path though a darkened doorway. Letting them clap shut, she removed her glasses, peering around the shop as pungent scents of ginseng, asafoetida, and something strangely reminiscent of burning hair, bit into her nostrils. Along one side a timber topped counter ran toward its rear, ending at another curtained portal, thin space behind backstopped by an array of lacquered draws, diminutive enough to have not looked out of place in a library index. The remaining walls were home to deep shelves, most supporting collections of thick necked jars, and she leaned closer to one, examining what floated inside.
From the store's rear came the clack of another curtain and, straightening from her investigation, Monty glanced sideways to find a small man standing before the second entry. Dressed in the apparently local uniform short-sleeved button up shirt, its collar left open beneath a face just showing its first liver spots, he was looking at her quizzically.
"Néih hóu. Yŏuhéguìgàn?"
Turning to fully face the herbalist, she used the spare moment to reach into her small, but rapidly growing, supply of Cantonese. "Néih hóu... neih sīkm̀hsīk... gong... yìngmán a?"
Another pause, then.
"Yes, I do. Did you want help?" He gestured to the jar she had been inspecting. "Or perhaps xi gui tou?"
"No, actually I have a prescription to be filled."
Digging in a pocket she produced a thin slip of paper, which was proffered across the counter and, stepping forward, the little man took it from her. Placing spectacles on a pointed nose, his gaze ran quickly down the list of characters and, internally, the watching girl scowled: she had memorised what formulas were supposedly written but, frankly, he could tell her anything right now and all she could really do was agree.
Jethro's intermediary contact had better be reliable.
Reaching the list's end, her opposite's eyes narrowed. "Powdered lù biānis difficult to come by, easier than the full organ mind, but I am surprised to see it prescribed. That will take me a few days to get in, perhaps something in the meantime, rénshēn for vitality perhaps?" he glanced her up and down. "I cannot see what any man would possibly need lù biānfor."
"It's not for any man, and ginseng is just... plain."
"Ah well, there is very little in Hong Kong you realise, and the powder must be kept dry to be effective."
"Which is why I am here, and I know how to keep powder dry."
There was another pause, and Monty waited, powdered deer's penis had not, supposedly, been on her written list.
Finally, the herbalist spoke again. "Very good."
Putting her prescription down, he reached under the counter, withdrawing another one of the large jars and, as he undid its wide lid, a strong, acrid, aroma wafted out, momentarily blotting away the shop's background smell. Reaching into the jar, he extracted a flat, faux-traditional looking box, old and beaten, decorated around the lid and sides in fine patterning. Dusting off plastic wrap protecting it, he placed it on the counter.
"For you, you may inspect while I fill the rest of your prescription."
As the herbalist turned to slide open one of his small drawers, letting yet another scent waft into already crowded airspace, Monty pulled the box toward herself. The fabric-covered edges were heavily frayed, obviously well used, the sort of thing one might expect a cheap calligraphy set to arrive in. Folding back the lid, she lifted out what lay inside, one of two.
Type 54 pistol, the knowledge arrived unbidden in her mind, Tokarev clone, former standard issue sidearm of the Peoples' Liberation Army. Eight round magazine, 7.62mm necked…
With a conscious effort she shut the data stream off, instead weighing her purchase in one hand. Like the box in which it had come the weapon was well worn, very definitely second hand, and chunky, certainly not ideal for concealed work, especially for herself, but beggars could not be choosers. Checking it was empty she racked the slide before pulling the trigger once. As far as she could tell it appeared to work just fine, and so long as that were the case she could live with any amount of… patina.
Between her and the shop's front window, the herbalist had begun grinding something unidentifiable into powder with mortar and pestle, casting a pale shadow across where she stood. She still had plenty of time before he finished and, allowing encyclopaedic weapons knowledge bestowed upon her by the SWA's doctors to flow once more, she began breaking down the gun.
Again, insofar as she could tell, its insides appeared worn but serviceable and, as her prescription was finalised, the second pistol had also been cleared under a similar inspection. Closing the box, she watched the herbalist move back toward her.
"That, give here."
Taking the box, he placed a plastic bag of loose ammunition with it, before surrounding both with a raft of herbal formulae, the combination giving off a strong, faintly gunpowdery, scent.
"These will…" he made a circling motion with his hand, as if feeding the fragrance up toward his nostrils, "…mask smell. Help hide."
Wrapping the collected items in paper, he placed one palm on top of the finished article and, on cue, Monty withdrew her wallet, counting off notes from a wad of cash Katherine had provided, feeling scrutinising eyes follow each movement. Peeling away one final slip, she neatened the sheaf up, before handing it over, whence it was counted again. Completing his own check, the shop's owner tapped the prescription also folded atop her parcel.
"And for medicine, some of these not cheap."
"Not included then I presume."
"No."
Stifling a sigh, the girl inspected what the final total had been, and peeled away another two notes. When she got back, there were going to be words regards quantifying what was and was not part of a negotiated price.
Smiling as additional payment was handed over, the herbalist pushed her purchase forward, before rummaging in a drawer to secure a few coins, which were also slid across the counter top.
"This is now yours. Remember, if you are caught, it not my problem, you were never here."
Pocketing her change and picking up the sizable burden, Monty turned toward the door, before pausing, using the beat to scan streets beyond through grubby, distorted, plastic. "Joigin."
"Jūk néih hóuwahn."
Stepping from the cool, dark interior, the young agent paused again as thick ribbons clacked shut behind her, replacing sunglasses to look around.
Good luck.
Unfortunately her grasp on the language was not nearly good enough to decipher intricacies of tone, but whether meant genuinely or otherwise, she could certainly do with a little good luck right now. Rush hour was beginning to ebb and, scanning the area once more from behind smoked lenses, she spotted a familiar face in the throng.
One of Zhang's.
She had no idea if she herself had been noticed or not, but the clouds were starting to make good on their threat, sheets of rain advancing across the city, sending those still outside ducking for cover and thinning the crowd further still. Better safe than sorry and, catching onto the tide's tail, she melted into its remaining flow.
Perched in shadow, back from the window, Jethro watched bustling streets below, a laptop resting forgotten on his knees: the inevitable detritus of taking over information collating duties. As it was want to in monsoon season the rain had come through thick and fast, disappearing quickly as it arrived, leaving slick pavements in its wake, those traipsing across glistening thoroughfares antlike from this height. At least he enjoyed a semi-decent vantage point now, Katherine having finally been convinced to allow his keeping watch from her front-facing bedroom. Whether that had been the result of smooth talking, or exasperation at his constant fidgeting during Monty's absences, he was unsure… probably a combination of both. It had been an intentional two-pronged attack, of course, but, if he were honest, it had not required a great deal of acting.
Whatever reason though, it beat trying to maintain a lookout through the kitchen's narrow glass and, his eyes fell to the currently blank computer screen, it gave him some privacy digesting those documents not fit for viewing by their SIS counterpart.
Turning back to the street, he scanned the crowd again, searching for a familiar white cap, attention snapping instead to a flash of auburn hair, quickly dismissed in disappointment as its owner continued on, giggling with a girlfriend bearing similarly dyed locks. It wasn't that he did not trust Monty, far from it, there was no-one he would rather have, but that didn't stop him from worrying, and a vivid imagination could be a terrible burden to carry.
Beginning his sweep again, Jethro's attention focused in once more to a hopeful clothing item and, this time lifting a small set of field glasses to peer through, he cracked a small smile as his partner ambled toward the apartment building. Upon reaching its entrance however she did not stop, continuing past at the same measured pace, a large parcel tucked under one arm.
Fingers drummed on his leg, eyes automatically moving to cover crowds left in his girl's wake. Not coming straight home was smart, but the longer route would also mean greater exposure. That sort of precautionary measure meant she had probably encountered one of Zhang or Charlie's people, and he turned to scan bobbing heads again as a fresh wave of worry rolled in. If she were caught now, armed with stolen government property, they wouldn't even need to make up a story to indict her. Could it have been the broker sold them out? He did not like going through new people at the best of times, not like this at least, but the landscape had changed since he was last in the East, a truth becoming more readily apparent with each source he contacted, their own conduits and suppliers having either dried up, or changed...
...or his calls simply going unanswered.
Need to spend more time in this part of the world Jethro my lad, find an excuse, or you'll wind up even worse out of touch.
He glanced at his watch, second hand moving interminably slowly against textured, dark brown, backing, passing double 12 o'clock markers and back down the far side. As it swept by the crawling GMT arm, he tore his eyes away and returned to looking down on the street, fingers still drumming.
Another five minutes passed, another ten until, after what seemed like an age, a sharp 'all clear' rapped against the apartment door.
Closing the already hibernating computer, he stood from his temporarily relocated kitchen chair, tucking the machine under one arm to move quickly back into the main living area. Katherine, however, had already risen from the table, upon which a small array of firearms were spread in varying states of disassembly. Snapping shut a snub-nosed revolver as she did, the woman moved quickly to the door, peering through its peep hole, gun by her side. Placing his laptop down on the still unfolded sofa bed, fingers shuffling toward where his own pistol lay concealed, the handler watched as she unlocked the entry, pulling it back just enough to let Monty's slender form slide through.
"Welcome back," she jerked her head toward Jethro, a wearily annoyed expression twitching Eurasian features as eyes flicked to the computer, "he hasn't left that bloody window since you left."
Giving a curt nod by way of reply, the younger woman surveyed weaponry currently strewn across the table, before placing her parcel on the nearest chair instead. As she stepped over to her partner he leaned down, peeling off her hat and planting a perfunctory kiss upon pursed lips.
She cocked an eyebrow. "Miss me?"
"A little." Straightening himself, Jethro threw her discarded garment onto their mattress, continuing in a louder tone. "You run into some of Zhang's did you?"
"Noodle."
Back at the kitchen table, Katherine was sliding pieces of Glock back together, clearing away scattered cleaning kit in the process, and she cut into the conversation. "Even combining resources, Wilkes and Zhang must have left all the stops out to try and find us."
"She was almost directly outside the herbalist's. That's a little more coincidental than I'm entirely comfortable holding to pure good coverage."
At that, the handler stepped up behind her, arms wrapping around skinny shoulders, preparing to play Devil's advocate. "We did suspect Zhang and Charlie could get fairly decent saturation if they threw absolutely everyone on the case, particularly if they do a bit of elimination work regards where we can least likely move."
"If so they've been maintaining that pace for weeks now."
"Don't forget too, your contacts have been around awhile," chimed in Katherine, placing the parcel of medicines upon the table top and beginning to peel back its wrapping. "It's entirely possible Wilkes or Zhang know about them also, whether they realise it or otherwi… ugh, this cannot stay."
Paper now open, the SIS agent recoiled as, free from their bindings, trapped scents inside rolled stronger through the apartment, but Jethro breathed deep.
"Nope, that's the fragrance of Hong Kong that is. Savour it."
"Besides, those did not come cheap, and speaking of which…" the girl lifted his arms away, twisting to face him, "…it may well behove you to double check our cover is being included in the purchase price next time."
"That price was supposed to include the lot."
"Well, if it was, the message did not reach the herbalist. We're on a limited budget, so if we want to recoup the money we're going to have to sell that on."
Jethro let a puzzled look cross his face. "That should have gone on down the chain…"
"Did you confirm? Or did you just assume everyone here would be good at Chinese whispers?"
From the table came an exasperated sigh. "Well, you two can sort it out amongst yourselves, I'm going for a shower." Gathering up her two Glocks, along with the revolver, Katherine gestured toward the open parcel. "And if you don't intend to dispose of that, at least wrap it in a plastic bag or something."
"Leave the cleaning kit."
Not acknowledging that last request, she nevertheless left brushes and rags behind, striding toward the bedroom, pointed exit somewhat sullied by needing to squeeze past the standing fratello. In the pause left by her departure, Jethro leaned down to bring himself nose to nose with his partner, brushing a light kiss on the top of her head on the way through as arms wrapped once more around the back of her neck and, taking advantage of the conversational void, he changed the subject.
"Genco sent another packet through."
It had the intended effect, and Monty cocked an eyebrow. "And?"
"And you may be interested to know it sounds rather like Vito is headed our direction. Hilshire lost him boarding a plane bound for Hong Kong."
The eyebrow stayed up. "How old?"
"Maybe a couple of days."
"So he is already here."
"Almost certainly."
Silence fell again at that, continuing as Katherine re-emerged from her bedroom, firearms gone and clothes exchanged for a wrapped towel. "If either of you need the loo then speak now or forever hold your peace."
Jethro shook his head, and his girl followed suit, thoughts obviously elsewhere as she pulled away, extracting her PPK to lay it on the bed. He had a rough idea of what was going through her mind: if Vito where here, then they had already wasted time which could have been better spent pursuing him, rather than attempting to re-connect with the Padania's forging operation from scratch. The realisation was vexing him also, but there was another hurdle to cross before they could do anything about it and, by way to kill another minute as the bathroom door closed behind their SIS counterpart, he stepped toward the table, sniffing at air above.
"This is rather pungent isn't it?"
"I have smelled worse."
Rummaging through Monty's parcel he extracted the bag of ammunition, followed by its accompanying worn box. As the sound of running water started from the small bathroom behind, he flipped the lid back, lifting out one of the pistols, quickly examining scuffed metal.
"And these have certainly seen better days."
"Well I only picked them up, but if wishes were horses…"
"…then beggars would ride, I know."
"They seem serviceable enough."
Settling at the table, Jethro pulled the box over. Beginning to slowly disassemble one of the Type 54s, racking his brain for the correct sequence, he spoke quietly as Monty seated herself at his side, laptop under one arm.
"Thing is, the information came through Rome, so what are your thoughts about…" he jerked his head toward the bathroom.
For her part, his partner had prised the computer's plastic shells apart, fingers flying across cheap, flimsy, keys as she logged back in.
"If Vito is already landed, I think we've no time to waste, so we are going to need some tale to spin." Typing stopped as she began to skim the still-open document, continuing to talk. "Question is, how much does she actually need to know? I will give Katherine this: she has so far respected that some of our information comes from sources we may not wish to share."
"That is really only a gentlemen's agreement though."
"Yes, with only one gentleman involved, if that…" the jab was delivered drily, but hearing it was a relief, "…and I would prefer we not give away any more than necessary. So back to the original question: what does she really need to know? I think we could get away with only letting on what is relevant to Vito at this end."
A pause, Jethro tapping the back end of a cleaning brush on the table in thought and, eventually, Monty spoke again.
"She already knew about Anagnos' involvement, and we filled her in on Hermes, insofar as it relates to the forging operation."
"She does that, and if she asks we can certainly associate Vito through that line of investigation easily enough."
"And if she pushes harder?"
The sound of a running shower stopped and, more instinctively than anything, he lowered his voice. "As you said: she has her sources and we have ours, that's been no secret, and wrapping Vito into that existing line will hopefully help. If she does push harder though, we stonewall."
Even as he said it, the concept brought a grimace which he let spread to his face. It certainly was not an ideal solution: blatant, inelegant, and overly trusting of the other party to not ask questions. Better to divert, obscure… remove the need for trust in the first place. Honour among thieves was one thing, but it seemed to be increasingly thin on the ground these days.
Behind him the bathroom door opened again, their host padding damply from it, once more wrapped in her towel.
"Katherine, a moment?"
Pausing as she strode past, the SIS woman turned back. "Can I get dressed first?" Her eyes dropped to the still open parcel. "And I thought I said to put that in a plastic bag."
Not waiting for a response she continued on and, rising from his chair, Jethro dug under the sink for a couple of bags, before re-folding the herbalist's remaining goods back in their paper and double sealing the lot to be airtight as possible. That was placed under the fratello's bed just in time for their opposite number to return, now dressed in t-shirt and shorts, a towel still bundled atop long, black, hair.
"Ok, now I can give you a moment."
Jethro gestured to the spare place. "Take a seat, we may just have been handed a means to get back chasing the Italians."
Katherine's eyebrows rose at that but, doing as invited, she waited expectantly.
In the closer chair, Monty turned her computer around, documentation gone from its monitor, and replaced with a large photograph.
"This man we ran into previously whilst following Anagnos. We know him as Vito, and he is now in Hong Kong."
"And you know this because precisely?"
"Airport contact."
The question had not been unexpected but, true, to form, Katherine did not labour on the minimal answer, instead waiting for the next piece of information to be offered.
"Among other things, Vito serves as an agent for Hermes' affairs, and we have reason to suspect he has been assisting moving the Italians' forging operation around. If we find him, we can probably use him as a conduit back in."
The SIS agent looked around their small apartment, digesting that as she did, then returned to the girl. "We'd need to find somewhere better for working him over, this place is not exactly set up for interrogations."
That drew a dry look. "Contrary to popular belief there are means of extracting information from people that do not involve broken kneecaps. Besides our… sources… suggest he comes from an intelligence background, I am sure he will have some misdirect or another pre-prepared to feed any interrogator."
"And so what would you suggest?"
"We track his movements. I think that will give a much more reliable picture of the operation here. Bring him in later by if you must, but it would be worth having something to verify against all the same."
"Follow him… with half the city on the lookout for us?" Katherine's tone was equally dry. "You yourself just now ran into Noodle; random coincidence or otherwise, how long do you think we would remain under the radar traipsing around after this Vito character day in and day out? I would wager not particularly."
"And say we do bring him in for interrogation, what do you propose we do with him afterwards? I'm not having him wander free after enjoying our company and, as you noted, we are still under scrutiny. That will make disposing quietly of a body no less difficult than trying to tail him, and tailing at least doesn't involve dragging a rotting carcass along."
"I can handle the interrogation if you won't. As to disposing of the body, there are plenty of ways to dispose of one here. It's a big city, and a major port, that is a good combination. You visited the farming pontoons, those owners are not wealthy; money in to the right hands will see a needy fish breeder provided with much appreciated feed. That is one contact I did manage to make before Zhang shut me down."
"Of course you did, but I also thought we were running on a budget."
"We are running on a budget, but sometimes the money needs to be spent and, in case you had forgotten, it's also my money we're spending."
"Which somehow makes all your purchases wise and ours not?"
There was a scrape as Jethro pushed back his chair… that was probably just about long enough. Standing, he placed a hand on each of his partner's slender shoulders, giving them a calming squeeze in the process. "Sorry luv, but I think we may need to give this one to Katherine. Much as an interrogation is not my preference, she's right: we can't risk that much time on the street, not anymore… not to mention if we're spotted tailing Vito, Zhang or Charlie may well decide to pick him up themselves."
"Thank you."
At the woman's words however, he raised eyebrows at her, thumbs beginning to massage soft flesh. "That still does not answer the question of where you, and it will be your job, Madam Fuji, are going to undertake the questioning. As noted: here is not ideal and, wherever we choose, it will need to be somewhere Monty and I can reliably provide security with limited manpower."
There was a pause as that was considered, but Monty piped up next, a hint of unhappiness still evident in her voice. "It cannot be too far afield either then."
"Will your contact pick up the body? Or do we need to deliver it?"
"He prefers to pick up, but where that is from really hinges on where we interrogate and, travel issues aside for a moment, I'd really prefer that not be too near here or where we actually grab Vito either." Katherine paused. "On that note though, how do you propose to find him? We can't just scour the streets, and frankly this whole discussion is a bit academic without his arse located."
"There we may be able to help as well." Another quizzical look from Katherine, but she again said nothing, and Monty continued. "We said he acted as a representative for Hermes. They have an office in Yau Tong, so it's a reasonable assumption he will turn up eventually, if he has not already."
"It sounds to me though," added Jethro, "that there's a fair wad of organising needs being addressed between now and then."
Peering down on shimmering tarmac through the tiny open window, Monty undid another button on her oversize shirt, fanning light fabric in an attempt to circulate muggy air around her body. If Katherine's over-crowded apartment had been uncomfortable, it was nothing compared to the accommodation which they now occupied. For all its shortcomings the safe house was, after all, at least air conditioned. Here, in a space left abandoned by squatters, there was not power for even a fan; hot, clammy, atmosphere tolerated only for its view onto Hermes' frontage… despite most of the small, square windows remaining jammed in their frames by decades of accumulated grime. While that did offer one advantage of obscuring whatever lay behind opaque panes, it also left those being hidden somewhat wanting for ventilation.
Gulping water from a bottle by her feet, the cyborg returned to her surveillance as, from deeper in the stifling gloom, came her partner's voice.
"Did you wind up getting squared away with your contact?"
"I did," Katherine this time, "and he also suggested somewhere for us to interrogate Vito. It should be empty, but he can't guarantee it."
"Fantastic. Can you give it a once over then?"
"If there's time I would like to. It's still a relief though, I really did not want to use this place. We're too close, and have been shacked up far too long already. Are you sure this is the only chance to intercept him?"
"The only relatively certain one, and you know we've not the time to find someplace else. He was in the city for a day at least before we got the message as is, I just hope it wasn't a flying visit."
"So you can't even be certain he is still in the country."
"No, but do you have a better plan?"
There was no follow on reply, and Monty hid a smile, before turning her attention back to the street. Katherine had a point though: they had been camped out far longer than satisfactory, the area's industrial nature further complicating efforts to obscure movements to and from the neglected shanty. Not to mention paying for the pleasure meant they were burning extra money into the bargain.
From the street wafted sounds of a lorry starting up, echoing between concrete walls on dead air, but that was not what suddenly drew her attention.
"Movement."
From behind came the sounds of people standing, but no further speech, a tense silence instead descending to suck noise from the world. While, as a cyborg, she was perfectly capable of discerning faces on the tarmac below from this distance, she reached down to lift a pair of small field glasses to her eyes.
Waiting seconds to give the impression of having studied closer, she spoke again. "And here is Vito."
Against the building opposite their mark's figure paused, gaze roaming up and down the roadway, and Monty unconsciously pulled farther into the shack's gloom. He made no indication of having spotted her however and, seemingly content, pushed his way into the Hermes office.
"He's gone inside."
"Guess you'll not be getting a chance to check your contact's real estate over after all." That was her partner again, and he continued, "Katherine, head downstairs, I will not be far behind. Monty, keep an eye on things from up here. Once you see her in position, move down as well."
Gaze not leaving the façade opposite, she gave a curt nod.
Hearing the door close at her back, the girl began a slow sweep of the Hermes office. Vito had gone in via its glass personnel entry, whatever errand he was on hopefully lengthy enough they could take positions. Of course, they didn't want him too extensively occupied either. She gave a humourless chuckle at that thought: for someone unaware of being on the clock, he had a very tight schedule to keep. Timing was not the only issue either and, tracking left, she inspected tall loading bay roller shutters, four in a row, leading into the warehouse section. Those were the biggest concern, difficult to cover and easy to see out of. If Vito recognised her through them, any head start he got would leave them in a poor position to intercept.
Fortunately it would be Katherine on point.
At that moment, the woman in question emerged from the base of their own building, pausing briefly before crossing narrow tarmac, just wide enough for a pair of lorries to pass abreast, and took up station in the next shaded doorway down from Hermes' office entrance.
That was her cue, and pocketing the field glasses Monty stood, turning to the tiny, bare, room. Stepping over a makeshift cot she paused, reaching inside her top's deep opening to extract the big Type 54 pistol now wedged in place at her ten o'clock behind belted linen shorts. Drawing the slide back slightly, she checked it had a round chambered, before replacing it once more out of sight and heading for the door.
The roof access had long ago been forced, those charged with the building's upkeep either too lazy or miserly to bother repairing it. Instead it remained open to those dwelling within hovels dotting the space or, feasibly, they were the same people, having decided, like the denizens of Lei Yue Mun Seafood Market, to move in above their place of employment.
Whatever the original reasoning their efforts were convenient and, pushing through, the young agent descended, down a darkened stairwell and onto rusted steel gantries above loading bays beneath, now converted to a bustling garage workshop. Out of place as she was amongst grubby-handed mechanics, none so much as glanced her direction, enough budget having greased those same palms to buy anonymity, along with mutual understanding to turn a blind eye to each other's operation.
Along the building's facade, tall roller doors were thrown open, letting light and humid air flow in on the workshop's legitimate front and, pausing in shadow, Monty looked through dark sunglasses to the Hermes offices a little distance down on the opposite block. From here she could see Katherine's doorway on their target building's far side, just visible between trucks and taxis lining the gutter, the woman herself however obscured from view.
How long was Vito going to take? That was the question. Now that she was positioned, the answer would hopefully be not too long. In shadow or no, she was not keen on remaining this exposed. Her eyes fell to her watch, briefly tracking its small seconds hand before rising again to Hermes' dock. Some variety of short meeting would be her preferred reason for his visit, something to keep him in one place and at one exit. Were he getting the grand tour however, or to checking on a shipment, then the chances of him exiting in an awkward position were going to be substantially higher.
Checking her watch again, the girl drew eyes from the freight forwarders to glance about her workshop surrounds, noting gazes flick away. Seemingly even the anonymous could draw attention with their backs turned and, continuing to sweep the area, her attention suddenly froze, focusing in on the far wall. One set of eyes had been slower leaving, their owner leaned against a small sink and washing area, grubby wall phone pressed to an ear. Realising he had been spotted, the caller spoke quickly, before replacing his handset and turning away. The face she did not recognise but, taking a heartbeat to consider her options, she shifted backward to get a clearer view, reaching for her mobile as she did.
Trust your gut, walk away.
She had barely made it a step however when another movement drew her notice and, swinging back to the street outside, she found Vito just exiting the far loading bay.
Too late.
It had only been one step, extracting her from behind the garage frontage but, for a split second, they locked eyes, and in that instant time froze. However, turning, the man began to saunter away down scorching tarmac, headed toward Katherine, seemingly none the wiser as to whom he had encountered.
Letting him move a few paces farther on, enough that she would be well out of his peripheral vision, Monty started across the road, ensuring to keep a vehicle between them. In shadow or otherwise, there was no way he could have not spotted her. Had he not recognised her? Or was he simply acting casually in the hope she had not recognised him.
Two is still a coincidence.
Whatever the Moscow Rules said, being hemmed in from behind was definitely going to count as an enemy action and, on the very off chance she had not in fact been identified, it would be a relatively substantial reminder. Fortunately, if she got that close, any sudden attacks of memory would be too little too late.
But there was still also that phone call.
One way or the other she would be off the street shortly. Stick to the plan, let Katherine take point, and wrap this up quickly.
Pausing behind a parked lorry at the far kerb she listened hard, before edging around it just enough to peer along the narrow gap between vehicle and building. Their mark was nearly at Katherine's doorway, and no sooner had she taken position than the other woman stepped out to block his path, Glock 23 held low, muzzle pointed at his stomach.
"Vito, I presume."
The response was almost instantaneous, Padania man stepping back, one hand falling to his waist. He was not the only one in motion however and, gun dropping as she moved, Katherine charged forward, strong left hook swinging through to catch him a vicious blow to the cheek. Even above industrial clamour the crack of bone was clearly audible, its recipient spinning the opposite direction, half-drawn weapon clattering to the ground, and metal glinted across the SIS agent's fist as she strode forward again.
Extracting her phone, Monty dialled Jethro's burner, letting it ring twice before disconnecting as, abandoning his firearm, Vito glanced up. Spotting the slight girl behind, he apparently decided she was the lesser threat and rounded instead on his assailant, just in time to block a knee which had been heading for his ribs. It was the wrong move, and this time the bloodied knuckeduster swept in low, driving hard into soft abdomen tissue. Gagging, the man folded up, bringing his head down for Katherine's heavy hiking boot to trace a long arc around, slamming heel first into its side and sending him sprawling into the wall.
From the street came the screech of tyres accompanied by the rev of an engine and, as her opposite stooped to lift their victim again by his neck, left arm winding back to continue the one-way exchange, Monty caught her gaze, cocking an eyebrow in the process.
"If you are quite finished, it is time to leave."
Pausing in mid-violence, Katherine opened her mouth to speak.
Whatever she had meant to say however never made it out. Eyes suddenly snapped behind the cyborg as more tyres screeched to a halt, and the message required no words, both women dropping together as automatic fire scythed across their heads, shattering concrete above.
Drawing her pistol, Monty glanced under parked cars, rewarded with a slender view of feet running their direction.
"Whose!?"
"Not any of H's!"
So Zhang then.
Picking the closest target she unloaded two rounds, bringing him down with a yell of pain, and rolled back toward the lorry as more fire raked her position. Seemingly their comrade's fall had given the attackers momentary pause, and she adjusted her aim, directing the next shots into car tyres behind.
Three vehicles, that was what she had heard, so probably at least twelve men.
The respite was short lived however, and the Orchid were quickly moving again as she shifted into a crouch, ducking out around the lorry's rear, firing two more shots to keep their heads down. She had a clearer view now, two cars on this end, those hunkered behind covering their compatriots' advance. If they stayed here much longer they were going to be surrounded.
"They're coming this side too!"
Katherine had moved to their protection's far end, words immediately drowned by staccato rifle reports. Head snapping that direction, Monty caught sight of Vito also, now sprawled across hot pavement, her companion having seemingly found time to knock him out cold. She couldn't leave him here though, not if he might remember her. Turning back to the fight, the girl fired twice more into her closest assailant, gun's slide locking rearward and she ducked back behind the lorry's wheel to ram a fresh magazine home. Then, diving forward, she gathered up the man's arm.
"Give me a hand here!"
Turning from her own engagement, Katherine glanced back.
"Forget him!"
There was the barest pause. She could have carried him on her own, but not with this many people watching and, making up her mind, the pistol levelled instead between unconscious eyes.
Suddenly, strong fingers were wrenching her aim away, the SIS agent shouting again. "No! We can retrieve him later! And they already know who you are!"
Another half heartbeat's hesitation, Katherine didn't have the whole story, but...
Dropping her burden once more, Monty reached instead inside his pocket, grabbing the first thing her fingers closed on. No time to look at what she had picked up however and, keeping her gun trained toward the lorry's rear, she backed up to join the British woman by its cab.
"Jethro was coming from your direction, go first, I'll cover you."
This time her companion offered no argument and, as the girl swung around the cab's blunt snout she was up and running, retreating down the line of cars. It didn't take the Orchid long to realise what was happening, and their focus shifted as Katherine dived into cover again. Then Monty was following, taking advantage of their assailants' momentary distraction. More shots, the woman ahead returning fire from behind a car bonnet but, above the noise, she could hear another engine approaching. As she drew level with her compatriot the vehicle it belonged to made its own screeching halt and, not stopping, she changed course, emptying her magazine back toward the fight, sending attackers ducking away. Wrenching open the taxi's door, she tumbled into its back seat, Katherine not far behind.
"No good, go!"
Crouched low behind the dashboard, Jethro wrenched the car into reverse, foot slamming down hard on the accelerator as bullets smacked into its prow, tearing into grille and windscreen, steam billowing inside through shattered glass. Swinging the wheel hard over her handler sent the vehicle pirouetting around its rear axle, passenger door flailing wildly as he hauled it into drive and booted the loud pedal again, screaming away from the fight.
Katherine had managed to catch the loose door now. Slamming it shut as they skidded around a corner, she continued to hold on for dear life as squealing tyres danced between two slow moving cars. Haring around another bend, all four wheels scrabbling for grip, Jethro zigzagged wildly back toward Kowloon proper.
Soon however their taxi's progress slowed to a more sedate pace and, peering over her partner's shoulder, Monty could see its engine temperature gauge pushing well into the red. As she watched, he glanced in the rear view mirror.
"We had better find somewhere to dump this sharp-ish, I doubt it'll be much longer for this world. You two alright?"
By way of reply the girl offered a tight smile and, eyes still not leaving the road, he reached back to give her knee a quick squeeze.
From the seat beside however wafted Katherine's voice, slightly unsteady. "I had heard stories about your driving, wasn't certain I believed them until now, but otherwise in one piece."
The cyborg's attention however now turned to what she had pilfered from Vito's pocket: a thick, men's, wallet and, opening worn leather, she ran a thumb over cards stashed within. Finding her partner's face in the mirror once more her smile returned, wan around the edges and accompanied by heavy sigh.
"Home, James, and don't spare the horses."
Despite their air conditioner's valiant efforts, Katherine's Sham Sui Po apartment remained steadfastly the warm side of comfortable. Temperature and atmosphere were, however, two very different things and, sitting back against cool concrete on crumpled sheets, Jethro pulled Monty closer, watching the television news across her head. While the reporter's voiceover remained mostly unintelligible, an airborne camera showed ambulances waiting amongst damaged vehicles behind police barricades.
"Well, look on the bright side: there's been no footage of the actual fight surfaced yet and, insofar as I can tell, everyone seems to be remaining tight lipped over who was involved."
Leaning against the doorway of her bedroom, Katherine's reply was dry. "Joys of a state-run media."
Conversation petered out again as all three turned back to the report, its perspective changing from overhead to a street-level journalist, now talking directly from the screen in fast Cantonese. Had this been a domestic operation, the SWA would have quietly silenced the whole affair, he could only hope the 2PLA would do similar.
"See, this is why I wanted something subtler." Monty's words were dry, steel edge lurking just beneath the surface, and he gave her another comforting squeeze, eyes flicking quickly to Katherine again. The woman's retort was fast coming.
"What, and just wander aimlessly around until Wilkes or Zhang finally caught up?"
"Because taking a direct approach obviously worked out so much better for us."
"We may not have caught Vito this time, but we would have got away a lot cleaner too had someone given more warning we were blown."
Now the cyborg cocked an eyebrow. "What would you have preferred me do? Tap you on the shoulder mid drubbing? 'Oh as an aside, Zhang might be popping by'?" She paused. "For that matter I would be asking some serious questions about the reliability of your contact who set us up with the garage to begin with. Just where did that one come from? Charlie?"
"Algy."
Once more, Jethro tightened his grip on the girl, planting a kiss on the back of her head, forestalling any further retort long enough to interject. "Whatever the outcome, what's done is done. I was the one who decided to go ahead with grabbing Vito and, at the time, it was still the best option. The question is where we go from here. Considering we seem to have rather sharply poked the hornets' nest it would be nice to lay low for a few days but..."
"...but we cannot afford to give the Autumn Orchid too much time with him," finished Monty.
"Which means we need to find him, and get him back."
From the doorway now came Katherine's voice, also returned to near normality. "Well I would say that, after today's escapade, we can expect no help from Wilkes. Most likely my cover there is proper blown. Presuming Zhang says anything about who showed up and in the company of whom, he will be able to put two and two together fairly easily."
"With Charlie in bed with Zhang, I doubt we would have got anything but misdirection anyway," opined Jethro. "However, if Vito's been shipped off to mainland China, or to the army building here, we could be in for an exceptionally tough time retrieving him."
"If that's the case we can write off any sort of daring rescue right now."
Silence fell again as that was considered, thumbs massaging at his girl's shoulders. The SIS agent had a point: maybe not so much for mainland China, but if Vito were taken to the regional People's Army headquarters, then their chances of breaking him out in any reasonable order were virtually nil.
Of course, that assumed Zhang had access to the building to begin with...
It was Monty though who spoke next, apparently thinking down similar lines. "I don't know if Vito would have been taken anywhere official. If we're correct in assuming Zhang is operating without his superiors' knowledge he would not be easily able to use that facility, for this purpose at least..." her attention turned to Katherine, "...unless Station H has something to offer?"
The other woman shook her head. "Unlikely. It was Zhang who would have grabbed him after all. Much as I imagine Wilkes would like direct access, not everyone at Station H is aware of his sideline, and he would want to keep his hands clean as possible. He's made a good habit of that over the years and I doubt he would wish to break the run now."
"Yes..." Jethro piped up again, "...dirt rather does tend to slide quietly off him and onto someone else."
"It does, but unfortunately that also leaves us no closer to locating Vito than before."
Another pause. The TV news had moved off its headline story now, and the SWA handler muted its ensuing coverage, leaving pictures flashing through.
"So, if he has not been taken to an army installation, and not to anywhere owned by Station H, where is he?" He tailed off, voice becoming quieter, more considered. "Where is he? Where do we know Zhang goes?"
It was Monty again who answered. "There's the appliance shop, and presumably he has access to John's apartment. That is about all we are aware of." Her eyes flicked toward Katherine. "Have you encountered others?"
That got a shake of the head in reply, leaving Jethro to pick up the conversation's stream. "Unfortunately I doubt he will use the shop again. That, I suspect, was only a throwaway for until the actual owner returned..."
"...which of course would leave John's apartment in Wan Chai, so scratch the easy choice. Question is: is the difficult option worth the risk, particularly when there is no certainty Vito will be there?"
"At the moment it's looking like the only option we've got: it's also the only place of Zhang's we know which would be viable. If nothing more, we might find something to point us toward other leads, someone else's accommodation perhaps."
"There was nothing operational in the documents we recovered last time."
The handler gave his girl another squeeze. "No, but you were only looking in one place as well."
From the bedroom door however came a cough. "If we wanted to limit our exposure, we could always send someone not us."
While he could not view his partner's face, picturing her expression did not require a great stretch of imagination: flat, with one eyebrow again raised. "And which contact would you intend using this time? Same as the last? Because if it is alright by you, I would prefer whoever visits John's lodgings not immediately go haring off to let the competition know what we're up to."
A sigh.
"No, not the same contact, though I should point out that was one of my more traditionally reliable ones."
"You've barely been here four months."
"And you have been here not half of that. They don't need to go looking for information, just wander past and see if anyone's home. If it turns out Vito is there, we move in and retrieve him, if not..."
"It's still a big risk for a long shot."
Seeing opportunity to mediate again, Jethro inserted himself back into the conversation. "Long shot it may be but, again, we are not precisely spoiled for choice right now."
There was another silence, Monty seemingly contemplating her reply. Finally, she spoke. "It might be the only chance for pursuing Zhang but, if we are stuck crossing the harbour anyway..."
Extracting herself briefly from enveloping arms, she leaned over to retrieve their mark's wallet from the table, holding it up. "Vito's. Among other things, it contains his room card for the Mandarin Oriental. That's on the Hong Kong side, but if we're going over anyway he may have left some means by which to track him. It would be less risky than visiting John's place: the hotel staff don't know he is gone, and if he is even halfway competent it should be at least a day or so before Zhang gets that information."
Looking toward their companion, the handler raised questioning eyebrows and, in her doorway, Katherine appeared to contemplate what had just been said. Then her shoulders drooped, as if admitting defeat.
"It's still a shot in the dark but, yes, probably a less risky one." Now her gaze turned to Monty. "The clock is ticking to find Vito though, and this is an extra step."
"Only if the Orchid are actually using John's apartment, if not then we are a step ahead on what would be the more time-consuming search."
"And you, or course, would prefer the less risky option."
"Seeing as I'm the one most likely being shanghaied into this, yes, I would rather."
Jethro's thumbs stopped their kneading, hands instead running down his partner's sides to drum a quick beat on her belly, ignoring the backward glance of annoyance received in reply before folding across its flat curve.
"Alright, Mandarin Oriental first, it gives us better coverage and we would have to spend the time scouting John's apartment anyway." Now he did look down to the girl laid back against his front, tilting her head back with a finger to catch deep brown eyes. "While you are on that side though, see if you can't hire an urchin or two to go check anyone's home."
Pausing, the spy patted her tummy again in thought. "That does still leave us the continuing problem of getting across the harbour quietly. Trains and ferries are is obviously out, anything which requires a terminal, and I think we've nicked quite enough cars of late."
"The bus is a possibility, but I would prefer not, there's few options if something goes wrong in those tunnels, and both they and the taxis have cameras fitted. All things considered you'd be hard pressed to trust the taxi-drivers either."
From the bedroom doorway came a low snort. "Just take a boat, I'm sure there are plenty of fishermen around Lei Yue Mun who would gladly run you across to Central."
"And organise it through whom? One of your 'traditionally reliable' contacts again, just to ensure we get a completely trustworthy skipper? Not to mention Lei Yue Mun is, lest you had forgotten, on the far end of Kowloon from here."
At the words, Jethro gave his girl a warning squeeze, but Katherine was again already responding.
"Then pick somewhere closer. Fuck, there's a typhoon shelter less than half a mile from here, and you can wander down yourself!" She sighed, shoulders sagging again. "You know what? Forget it. I'm going to bed, we can pick this up in the morning."
With that she turned back toward the bedroom, door slamming in her wake.
Feeling his charge tense, the SWA man gave her another quick squeeze, before releasing clasped hands and sliding them around to hoist against her rump.
"Come on luv, probably time we hit the hay as well. I think everyone could use some sleep."
Obeying the cue, Monty stood, digging under her pillow for a set of loose cotton pyjamas. Watching for a moment as she began to strip down, folding clothes neatly upon the kitchen table, his gaze turned back to the television. The news had finished now, replaced by some sort of dating show and, sparing his girl another glance, he dug quickly for the remote to turn it off.
Apartment lights soon followed. However, even with those doused, the space remained hardly dark, signage-hung streets below throwing shifting red and gold patterns across ceiling and walls and, in their artificial twilight, he watched his charge padding back his direction. Shuffling closer to cool concrete, Jethro made space under thin sheets in the small double bed, its mattress sagging as she climbed in, weak springs threatening to roll them together at its centre and squeaking as she shifted to get comfortable. Soon however those too fell silent, leaving the bustle of unsleeping pavements to waft up concrete canyons, echoing in beside the pulsating light show and air conditioner's continued, grating, rattle.
"We really should not be taking this so leisurely."
The words were quiet, smooth tones low beneath the city's lullaby and, pausing in his response, the former SIS man glanced to his partner, laying on her side, back to him. Hesitating only a suddenly faster heartbeat longer, he rolled across, one arm draping itself over her.
As it landed he felt her tense almost imperceptibly again, before immediately relaxing, also adjusting to the still unfamiliar position. Now what was he supposed to do with his other limb again? Maintaining the couple facade, even in bed, was not a situation he had readily needed to deal with in the recent past.
In covering darkness he gave a wry smile: that stood true for the not-so-recent past as well… comfortable cuddling had, generally, been eschewed in favour of priming for the main event.
Settling for shoving his spare arm under her pillow, Jethro pulled Monty closer, positioning his mouth by her ear to continue the conversation in muted tones. "Maybe we shouldn't be, but there's not a whole lot we could do tonight anyway."
"We could at least have some direction ready for tomorrow."
A small chuckle escaped his lips, and he gave her another squeeze. "And also, despite assertions to the contrary, even you can't operate without sleep."
That got a noncommittal sound by way of reply, and he felt her shift, slender fingers snaking around to interweave the hand on his enveloping arm, distant symphony of street life again rushing in to fill the void.
Another heartbeat.
"Maybe I just do not like that Vito can link us to Italy. How much do you think he knows?"
"Probably very little..." The handler paused at that, thinking. "...at least regarding where we fit in."
"And just what makes you so certain?"
He paused again: what did make him so certain?
"I guess... in all reality, Vito's short anything to tie us back with. Until today we have only come face to face with him once, and that was in Cyprus. Presumably he had something to do with the Roman Sniper as well, but we never operated as a pair there. I never left campus and, at least as far as we know, you were not photographed, which means he has nothing from that exercise either."
"Maybe, but the two times we have encountered him he has been on Padania business."
"Yes, but that's what he does. What other business is he going to be on?" Letting silence drag out this time, Jethro slowly withdrew his pillowing arm, sliding it instead under his partner's side to wrap up across her tummy, feeling the support-free mattress give way beneath.
That was better.
"Besides," he continued, "by the sounds of things Vito did not recognise you today."
"At first."
"At first, but all considered it is unlikely he will have put two and two together from that. In fact, with Katherine having done the talking, and so long as Zhang or Charlie don't open their mouths, he'll more probably associate you, both of us should he suffer a sudden attack of memory, to the SIS, which is fine by me."
"And would they let on?"
"I very much doubt it, they've nothing to gain."
"Maybe, but we also don't know what carrot they will try dangling before applying stick either." The girl shifted, taking a moment to rearrange his bottom arm slightly before settling into position once more, rolled back farther against his chest. "For that matter, what about Zhang, and particularly Charlie? Algy and Katherine have both made comment hinting the SIS are aware of the cyborg programme, or at least suspect something is up in Italy. If Vito starts filling them in on what he does, and who for..."
"Then we will have to hope, because it came from Algy and Katherine, the information is being primarily circulated around a different faction. Besides, everyone already knows what we are here chasing." Even as he said it, the words seemed hollow: Charlie would have pulled everything to do with them the moment he knew the fratello was on its way, and Algy wasn't so petty as to withhold information from Vauxhall. Not draw attention to it maybe but... Jethro heaved a heavy sigh. "To be sure though, we need to collect Vito before that can happen. Now, go to sleep."
Unfortunately, that was easier said than done.
