Chapter 35: No Tears For The Broken

The shack they were in was at the far side of the small shanty town by Roanapur's edge. Here, the truly desperate and alone squatted and fought for survival with other outcasts unwanted even in this city. Ashur glanced out the window and he could see the jungle. The darkness of this night made it hard to see anything, but he knew there was nothing to fear out here. It may have been a rotting hive of poverty and violence, but that was why the ACR picked it so long ago. They watched over it, granting protection against any who would come here with ill intent and in exchange the people that lived here provided information and what little monetary offering they could scrounge up through their petty thievery. Though the centre of Ikemba's operations took place further into the city proper, around Roanapur's outskirts but away from the shanty town, this place had been absorbed by the ACR and subjugated as one of their territories. Ashur had no way of knowing the ACR's true intentions, but they had shown up at just the right moment and gotten the Coterie out of danger, so he supposed he could trust them for now. But trust was like money these days, doled out as payment and quickly spent. Unless Ikemba could provide a good explanation as to why he had intervened during the attack, the Coterie would be moving on and leaving him to his business.

Ashur turned his attention to the bed in front of him. After they arrived at the shack, the Wolf had been brought in here and laid down while a stranger patched him up. Ashur watched the entire time without saying a word. In the moment, he acted without thinking and saved the assassin from harm in the warehouse. But a part of him still protested even now, insisting he should have been left there to die. That was why Ashur was even in the city, after all. He had come to Thailand to kill the Wolf after he escaped in Venezuela. Yet here he was, vulnerable and unconscious in front of his enemy. Ashur's hand rested on the handle of his gun as he watched the sleeping manslayer. It would be so easy, so quick. He could flee the scene and leave Roanapur for good. The only reason he agreed to aid Usagi was because he needed to lay low for a while, before he and the Wolf resumed their inevitable conflict and one of them was put down for good. But Ashur had a chance now to end it all prematurely. If he used his gun, he would have no reason to hang around anymore and he could be gone before dawn. He closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose. The air here was dirty, flooding into the shack through the glassless windows. There was a smell of smoke and blood. It seemed all too familiar. It almost brought him back through the years to a different time.

The sound of the door opening returned him to the present and he took his hand away from the gun. He turned to face Usagi and she shut the door behind her, going to Wolf's bedside.

"Has he said anything?" she asked.

"Silent as the grave."

"I believe Ikemba called on an unlicensed physician to see to him and Andromeda. They should be fine."

"Her injuries were minor," Ashur explained. "Two in the torso, one in the arm. All had exit wounds."

"And Wolf?"

"That was more complicated," Ashur said honestly. "He took seven shots. Three of them lodged in his body. One was close to an artery, I think. But the doctor did his job. He'll live." Unfortunately. Usagi turned to look Ashur in the eye.

"You two knew one another for a while before we met tonight."

"We're…recently acquainted."

"People look at me and they see a naïve little girl. Someone they can't take seriously…or won't. But I see things you might not expect and I understand completely." She took a step forward. He had to admire her bravery. Ashur was a full foot taller than her and in prime physical condition. But there was no fear in her eyes. If she knew how dangerous he was, she genuinely did not care. It was oddly unsettling, even to him. "Tell me what this is between you two. I know there is more to it than meets the eye." Ashur saw no use in lying to her. She would find out eventually from one of the other two in time, regardless. He returned his gaze to the jungle outside.

"A while back now, we ran with a group called Wolf Pack, all three of us. We were killers. Assassins. The best of the bunch, given special treatment because of how well we'd turned out. A Trinity. But our leader kept the existence of the other two secret from us all. I guess…she wanted us to think we were one of a kind. Special."

Ashur folded his arms and shut his eyes as some memories of his time under Sif came back to him. He could still see her at the head of the group during a mission on foreign soil, hear her detailing a plan of attack before taking the fight to their rivals, smell her skin as her body writhed and contorted with his.

"She came to this city hunting a runaway. She didn't like runaways. But this one wasn't ready to die that day. He took her out instead, crushed her whole empire into dust." Usagi glanced over her shoulder at the Wolf, having come to the conclusion that he was the runaway. Remembering her initial question, she attempted to connect it with what Ashur had told her, but her gut instinct soon brought her to the answer she sought.

"You were loyal to her," she said. "And you came here looking for revenge because of what he did." Her eyes returned to him. "You want to kill him." Ashur did not answer right away. He took on a look of what might have been shame, but that wouldn't have made much sense considering his desire to see the Wolf slaughtered.

"We formed an alliance to go after the Task Force 216. With what they were doing, they were going to crack down on everybody. We had to put our differences aside."

"The 216 are gone," Usagi told him. "Leashed and mastered like dogs, the rumours say. There is nothing in your way, now."

"There's you," Ashur told her. She was taken aback by that. "The boy and I…we'll be at each other's throats again when the time comes. But I came along tonight so I could find my place until then. Accept me into your service, and I'll make sure anyone who comes for you dies a cruel death. But I'll give you my word, as well. We will not raise our weapons against one another. Not until the time comes for me to leave your Coterie behind." Usagi turned back towards the Wolf and watched him as he slept. She had no idea that he was in the middle of this conflict even older than his relationship with her. Had he been a shade less lucky, he might have met his end in this city before ever making his way to Hong Kong. She turned around once more and extended her hand. Ashur took it and they shook on their agreement. Usagi hoped he would honour it.

(***)

The only light in here was provided by a small, candlelit lantern that hung from the ceiling directly above the table. Occasionally, a breeze would blow through the open doorway of the shack and move it from side to side. Usagi sat still, put on edge by Ikemba rapping his knuckles against the table across from her, but Ashur's presence in the room reassured her that she was safe. While she did not entirely trust him, she knew that he would take her side by default if the ACR tried anything.

"You keep interesting company," Ikemba told her, smiling. He ceased his noisemaking and pointed at the assassin behind her. "You have a ferocious one, here, let me tell you. How are the others?"

"They'll live," Usagi told him. "Your man knew what he was doing."

"Not mine," Ikemba corrected her. "We contacted Doctor Heartland on the way back. Stitchy the Surgeon was closer, but he's a bit of a blabbermouth. I should think we need more discretion, where your affairs are concerned."

"You seem confident that you know of my affairs." Ikemba smiled wider.

"Usagi Matsumoto," he began. "Daughter of Rahul Matsumoto, second in command of the Dead Men. After the death of Hunter Woods, you returned to Hong Kong. But somehow, you found your way back here. Now, you lead the Coterie in their quest to establish themselves." Usagi swallowed. It was difficult to maintain her composure. "Yes, many things have been whispered to me in recent times."

"If you're trying to scare the girl, Ikemba, you'll have to do better than that," Ashur's smooth voice came from behind her. The leader of the ACR regarded him for a few moments.

"Yes, she is a strong one. So much courage for such a small kitten."

"You came to our rescue at the warehouse," Usagi reminded him. "I refuse to believe you helped us just to see us come to harm now."

"A clever kitten, too. But of course, you are right. I have no interest in seeing your Coterie brought to its knees…even if there are some who do." He clasped his hands on the table in front of him before continuing to explain his motives. "You can relax, little girl. My people rarely speak to Miss Balalaika. We do not intend to sell you out to the Russians."

"You still haven't said what it is you want," Ashur piped up. "You went to a lot of trouble to make sure we made it out of that warehouse alive. Arrived right on time, too. So…Ikemba…why not tell us what we're really doing here?" Again, the ACR's leader took a few moments to consider Ashur, as if trying to figure something out about him silently, but he soon resumed his explanations. For all their sakes, Usagi hoped he got to the point quickly.

"A few days ago, an anonymous person contacted me with the information that you were operating in the city. They…encouraged me to come to the warehouse on this night, and told me it would be in my interest to assist you. Had I known of your existence sooner, I would have sought you out for my own reasons."

"What reasons?" Usagi asked him. Ikemba relaxed in his seat.

"You are rising in power, young Usagi. Making a name for yourself. People like me, we have a good eye for this type of thing. When the time comes for you to take your place at the top of the food chain, you would do well not to forget your friends." Now it made sense.

"You want to cut in on my operations," Usagi said calmly. "An extortion of anything the Coterie owns."

"So quick to jump to conclusions. But nothing that carries such a negative implication will interest me. I seek a partnership with your Coterie, fair and true. As you expand your influence, perhaps the ACR could continue to assist you…so long as you pass a few generous envelopes our way here and there."

Usagi looked down at the table. She would be disappointed if this devolved into violence, after what they had already been through tonight, but there were few viable options that allowed her to proceed. She was undeniably in debt to the ACR, even if she hadn't asked for their help to begin with.

"You misunderstand my position," she said. "I have nothing to offer you at this moment in time. We do not have the influence you're hoping for. I cannot afford your protection."

"We expect nothing of you now," Ikemba assured her. "All I ask is that you keep us close. In time…when you have established yourself…then we can talk about profit." Usagi lowered her eyes again as she considered his offer. Essentially, she would be indebted to him forever and any earnings the Coterie made in future would need to be divided with the ACR. In exchange, he was offering to act as her muscle and to help her hold onto whatever she had at the time. It was generous in one way, but the Coterie would not survive if half of their monetary intake was paid to another organisation.

"Who was this stranger that contacted you?" Usagi asked. "They know a lot more than I would like them to."

"I do not know. We received a phone call in the middle of the night. The voice was…distorted. I believe they were using some kind of audio manipulation technology to hide their identity. But they did seem interested in you."

"Fine. Then I ask you, what can you offer me other than a promise of assistance in the future? What can you offer me now?" Ikemba stroked his goatee with one hand.

"These people who attacked you," he began. "They knew exactly where you would be, and at what time. Somebody leaked the information to them. That is the only way they could have discovered what was happening. Unless our mysterious friend also contacted them…but I do not think so. They spoke as if that information was for me alone. If you agree to this…partnership…I will find the rest of the attackers. You can set your three hounds on them, and they can lead you to whoever it was that sent them after you tonight."

That was more tempting. Once Andromeda and Wolf were fully healed, they-along with Ashur- could probably track down whatever gang or organisation the attackers belonged to themselves, anyway. But if finding out who gave them the information on the Coterie's whereabouts tonight did not go according to plan, it would be useful to have the ACR's resources to assist in tracking them down. Usagi had a decision to make.

"It seems we both stand to benefit from this partnership, Ikemba," she said carefully. "And you have put me in an awkward position by coming to my rescue tonight. I will enter into an agreement with you…and you will take ten percent of the Coterie's earnings once we have established a suitable foothold in Roanapur."

"Ten percent is for thugs. Bandits. Try again."

"Fifteen percent."

"Do not make me laugh. Again."

"Fifteen percent is as high as I will go." The ACR's leader frowned beneath his thick sunglasses. "Understand my situation, Ikemba. Because of your timely arrival earlier tonight, I have been forced to repay a debt to the ACR that I was not consenting in taking on."

"A small price to pay for your survival, I would think."

"We would have fared just fine on our own."

"You think so?"

"I know so," Usagi said firmly. "You obviously aren't familiar with my allies."

"I know of the Wolf well enough," Ikemba told her. "But these others…I would be very interested to know where you found them."

"A secret that must stay with me, I'm afraid," Usagi told him. Ashur smirked behind her. "But they are devastating. Give them a week and they could topple Hotel Moscow, if I wished it." Ikemba was silent for a few seconds, but he ended with a smile and an approving laugh. He knew she was not being dramatic to impress him. "Perhaps you still need more convincing. You say you want us to pay for your services at a future date, but the more you seek to extort from us the more you hurt yourself in the long run. How can you collect if there is no more Coterie to collect from? Let me break it down for you. On average, I should think any of the given cartels in this city collect protection money from ten establishments or more each. And they usually collect once per month. Let's say each establishment earns, on average, seventy-five thousand per month. And that will be American dollars for simplicity's sake. Common logic would dictate that whatever cartel the establishment is indentured to would collect between five and eight thousand dollars per month. That means they would take in seventy thousand dollars overall that month after visiting each establishment that owes them."

Ikemba did not seem to understand what she was getting at. If anything, he looked greedier than ever as soon as she started mentioning numbers.

"The Coterie will be limited to the establishments that have yet to be absorbed by any of the existing gangs," Usagi went on, unrelenting in her information dump to convince Ikemba that she would not be taken for a sucker. "Of which there are very few. If we are lucky, we will have absorbed less than ten establishments by the year's end. We'll say six for argument's sake. Our monthly profits will be thirty-nine thousand dollars. Taking into account expenses for equipment, weaponry and, of course, payment for the service of my people…well, that already exceeds our profits by quite a margin." Ikemba's face dropped and he finally understand what she was getting at. "Fifteen percent is already more than I can afford, but I will agree to it nonetheless."

"You've made your point and then some," Ikemba told her. "But how am I to make you this offer now, after you have so explicitly explained that you cannot even afford to sustain yourselves as it is?"

"I have my ways," Usagi told him. "And my friends. Many of those who answered my call serve out of loyalty and expect no payment. But people need to eat and, eventually, loyalty will not be enough. On our own, we could manage, if only just. But with you, Ikemba…we could really help one another. There are other ways I could repay this debt to you. I should think you would know the right kind of people to talk to. Racketeering isn't the only way to make money…or the best." Even beneath his sunglasses, she saw the glint in his eye when he heard those words.

"You want to muscle in on the drug trade, little kitten? You're going to make a lot of enemies doing that."

"The drug trade, prostitution, weapon smuggling…put me in touch with the right people, and I will establish myself in a tenth of the time it would have taken me on my own. And this partnership will be very profitable for you…but on my terms. Fifteen percent, Ikemba, with a bonus further down the line." She extended her hand, her confidence knowing no bounds despite the fact that he had given her no reassurance that he was going to accept her terms. But he was impressed, that much was as clear as day. He reached out and shook her hand.

"You are a wicked one, I can tell already. Fifteen percent will be sufficient for the ACR's loyalty."

"To begin with," Usagi said slyly. "Once we return to Hong Kong, we will increase it to twenty as a gesture of goodwill. And we will trust you to oversee the establishments in Roanapur under our thumb." She had deviously neglected to mention how she planned to return to Hong Kong during her speech, where the Coterie would flourish now that the Dead Men no longer operated there. What remained of the families that once served her father would resume their old status in her name and the Coterie's profits would triple within months. But the ACR would still only receive twenty percent of the Coterie's earnings in Roanapur and Roanapur alone. Ikemba had been duped. Usagi rose from her seat and returned to the other room where Wolf was recovering. Ashur couldn't help but smile to himself. Perhaps serving under the girl would prove to be even more enjoyable than he initially thought. She had a cunning mind.

Ashur took the seat she had previously been occupying across from Ikemba and hung one arm over the backrest, with his free hand supporting his head.

"You don't give that girl enough credit," he said smarmily.

"She's going to do well, that's for sure," Ikemba agreed. "But it's not just her I'm interested in. She never did tell me where she found you."

"That doesn't matter," Ashur replied quickly. "I'm here to protect her. That's all you need to know."

"So you say. But I know you better than you know yourself. You still smell like the old world. The stench of fire and blood…it never leaves you." Ashur looked though his fingers at the leader of the ACR. He hadn't expected the conversation to take an uncomfortable turn like this. He had some memories he would rather forget. "I came from Nigeria. I was a soldier under Major General Buhari during the military coup in eighty-three. We were…blinded by loyalty. Obsessed with our cause. But it's all bullshit. When I left, I came here. The grass is…eheh…always greener, as they say." Ikemba spoke with a thick Nigerian accent, as if he had never left Africa, and he was sometimes difficult to understand by those who had not met him before. But Ashur understood every word. "We have both endured the worst of this world. We are two brothers, together at last. Tell me where you came from, brother. Tell me the horrible things you have seen." Despite Ashur's greying hair, he was only in his thirties, but he was old enough to have been through his fair share of trauma. He closed his eyes for a moment and he could almost taste the sand on his lips, the salt in the air. He could smell the smoke and hear the cries of agony ringing out through the city streets.

"You say you know me," he started slowly. "You don't know. I could tell you things that would make your damned military coup look like the thanksgiving parade in New York City by comparison." Ikemba rested his elbows on the table and sat his head on his joined hands as he listened to the assassin's story. "I had to fight for my right to keep breathing on the streets of Freetown. If you didn't kill or steal, you didn't get to wake up the next day. Had no parents to do the fighting for me like a lot of kids. That only got worse when the All People's Congress came around. The goddamn APC. They were popular with the poor. Socialist. Egalitarian. Left-wing. But they made a lot of enemies. Fact of the matter is…nothing changed on the streets."

"If I'm not mistaken," Ikemba interrupted, "their headquarters in Freetown was bombed in seventy-two. That attack killed a lot of people."

Ashur's eyes became unfocused, as if he was staring into space. But something about his attention was incredibly focused, just not on the present.

"The Sierra Bloods. After the APC started to rise in popularity, the Bloods vowed to stop them. They were rebels. A militia of anarchists who opposed the APC and their promises of equality. Looking back on it now…there was a lot of hate in what they did. Race and religion played a part in the bloodshed. And I…" He saw the explosion of the APC's headquarters from a distance, having helped plant the bomb. He saw the guards choke on their own blood as he shot them and fled into the wilderness with his comrades. He saw the white men appear from the jungle and mow down the rest, leaving only him alive.

"Child soldiers were rare in those days," Ikemba said sadly. "But they were there, if you knew where to look. The Bloods used you for their own agenda. You couldn't have even known why they did those things." Ashur neglected to elaborate on his time with the Sierra Bloods. It must have been distressing to relive those memories, even now.

"I don't know why the Americans were there," Ashur went on. "The white men…they should have killed me. I guess one of 'em didn't have a strong stomach. Must have frozen up when he saw me. But he took me away from there. I have that to thank him for, at least." That explained why Ashur spoke with an American accent. As a child, the American soldier had apparently taken him away from Sierra Leone to be rehabilitated in America. He must have been raised in a foster home. Ikemba did not question him further.

"I hope your friends recover quickly," the ACR's leader said light-heartedly. "As soon as my people find who was responsible for the attack, you'll need to be at your best. They will not go down so easily." Ashur looked him in the eyes intently.

"Neither will we."