Then the sound of a strangled cry caught Mallet's attention. He turned his gaze toward the narrow stairway leading up to the second floor. A thin, frightened shadow clung to the stair railing.

  Mallet took a small flash from his belt, switched it on and played it over the tiny girl hiding in the corner of the landing. She shielded her eyes with a thin arm, her other arm around a doll made from rags.

  "Ariel," Mallet called in a stern voice.

  "Go away!" the little girl shrieked. "Go away! I want my mommy! I want my daddy!"

  Grinning wolfishly, Mallet switched off the flash and strode over to the girl. She watched him, her eyes terrified and yellow from the reflection of the fires burning outside. At the last second, she screamed again and tried to run away. Effortlessly, Mallet caught the girl by the ankle and dragged her from the stairs. She whipped and spun and shrieked, clawing at him like a cat and beating at him with the doll.

  "Don't!" the woman yelled, running toward Mallet.

  The Magistrate knew the reaction stemmed from the woman's own guilt in the matter. He'd seen it a few times, more often from women when small children were involved. Mercilessly, he lifted the Sin Eater and shot the woman through the face four times, knocking her body back and dissolving her features into crimson ruin.

  The little girl screamed again

  Mallet dropped the girl beside the dead woman, releasing her ankle and quickly moving his hand to her throat. He squeezed tight enough to shut her up. "Stop screaming," he ordered. "Stop screaming or I'll chill you right here."

  But the little girl couldn't stop screaming. Her fear of him had pushed her past all reason. She hugged the doll to her fiercely and tried to scream again.

  Mallet strangled the little girl, clamping his big hand around her throat until he saw her eyes roll up into her head. The doll slid lifelessly from her arms.

  Chapter 31

  "They won't get any closer," Falzone said. "They're just spying on us, trying to see where we've come from, mebbe figure out what we got."

  Kane stood at the cargo ship's railing with Grant, Falzone and Remar. Kane trained his field glasses on the Chinese ship and scanned the deck.

  The ship was definitely Tong design, a style he'd become familiar with while tracking Ambika in the Western Isles. Constructed of arches and angles, and carrying three squared-off sails that folded into neat sections, the ship looked ancient. With the cherry-red lacquer finish broken up by thin black lines, it appeared to be covered in gleaming blood. A great, roaring dragon figurehead sprouted along the prow, reaching out into the wind with its painted claws.

  The Tong ship carried a full complement of cannon that had been cast in Wei Qiang's foundries in the Western Isles. The weapons were based on eighteenth-century designs and used old-fashioned black powder, as well, but Kane knew from personal experience how deadly they were. With proper handling and targeting, the cannon could reduce another ship to matchsticks in minutes. A few modem cannons and .50-cal deck gun backed the cannon.

  "Do they know who you are?" Kane asked. Early morning painted golds and pinks on the waters to the east.

  Falzone nodded. "I'm known to them. Qiang makes sure his officers have pix of me. We've found them on a couple ships we've fought."

  Kane studied the sea around the Tong ship.

  "Looking for another ship?" Falzone asked.

  "Yeah," Kane said.

  "You won't find it. This far up into the Seattle area, I made it a point to torpedo Qiang's ships any time there's more than one in a group."

  "With the minisubs?" Grant asked. Teresa prowled underwater in the minisub now. Falzone had chosen to let himself be seen.

  Falzone nodded. "We come up on them in the night when their sec is at its weakest, then blow them out of the water. How many ships did we take down before Qiang got it through his head, Remar?"

  "Twenty. Twenty-five," Remar answered, rolling another cigarette.

  "Ships are expensive properties, Kane," Falzone said. "A man owning them isn't going to want to spend them foolishly. They're too hard to replace, and you don't want to be without them for long if you're depending on them for defense."

  "Why didn't Qiang send Tong minisubs after you?" Kane asked.

  "Shit," Remar said, "they tried that. But that didn't work out for them, either."

  "I know these waters," Falzone stated. "I know the safe areas and the dangerous ones. When I fight, whether on the water or under it, I fight on a battlefield I choose, and I fight to win."

  "There's been times," Remar added, "that the battlefields he's arranged have been infested with damn chewers or hollow guts, guaranteeing anybody thrown overboard one fuckin' hard death." The old man grinned and scratched at his scarred knob of an ear. "Kinda added to the stories those bastards tell about him."

  Kane nodded. The chewers were the phosphorescent piranha that swam through this part of the Cific Ocean in schools, and the hollow guts were mutie jellyfish that measured over thirty feet across and had tentacles capable of paralyzing and killing prey as big as they were. All of those species included humans as part of their diet.

  "Then why allow even one ship to watch you?" Grant asked.

  "I can't destroy them all," Falzone answered, "and there have been times that the Tong have lent a hand when one of my salvage ships was under attack by the Wiy Tukay worshipers. In the meantime the Tong have a nasty habit of attacking and chilling anyone in these waters that don't fly one of my flags. Thins out the pirates."

  "Kinda like having your own pet sharks." Remar cackled.

  "And usually," Falzone said, "the Tong are the first that I trade with. If they get to watch me, I've got a direct source for trading, as well as a loose sec arrangement."

  "Then why not enter into a stronger relationship with them?" Kane asked.

  "Because," Falzone said, "they don't have weps to spare the way that I need them. That's why I've been trading with Baron Cobalt. I want those blasters. Hell, I need them if I'm going to keep operating the way I have."

  Kane thought about the Cerberus redoubt. The only way to truly remain autonomous in the Outlands was to be unknown and hidden, and to have everything that was necessary to that lifestyle. Falzone didn't have that luxury. And caring about his people the way he did only made him a bigger target.

  "So if you decided to trade with Baron Cobalt exclusively—" Kane said.

  "Wei Qiang would have my head if he could," Falzone finished. "I won't agree to a deal with Baron Cobalt because I don't trust him, and because any kind of allegiance he's going to offer would only be lip service. If a war here with the Tong got too costly, the baron would pull up stakes." He paused, watching the Chinese ship. "That's why I'm not trying to work a deal with the Tong, Kane. If Baron Cobalt decided to overinvest in this area and nuke me out of business, the Tong might pull out, too. Neither of them wants to do that until they get the maps I have of this area."

  Kane nodded. "Mebbe. But Baron Cobalt has other worries going on right now, too. An arrangement with the Tong might make him reconsider this whole area as just too expensive."

  "Perhaps. But I won't know that until I make that arrangement. And I'm not going to get there any time soon."

  Kane watched the Tong ship, sedately matching the pace the salvage ship was setting. "So what do you do now?"

  "With them watching?"

  "Yeah."

  "Clean the ship," Falzone answered. "Hold off salvaging. Wait for them to get bored and move on. It usually doesn't take more than a day or so."

  "Falzone!" a crewman called from the comet station in the prow. The man's face was tight, anxious.

  Falzone excused himself and walked away.

  Grant leaned a hip against the railing, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the Chinese ship. "This man is in the eye of a storm that could break at any time."

  Kane silently agreed.

  "Yet," Grant went on, "instead of being worried about it, Falzone seems to be happier than a pig in slop." He paused, then grinned sourly. "I ever mention to you how much he reminds me of you?"

  "No. But there's a lot about Falzone that I admire and respect."

  "He can't remain on his own out here," Grant said softly. "Not with the way everything here is shaping up."

  "I think he's beginning to realize that." Kane used his field glasses again, scanning the Tong ship and being scanned in return.

  "Trouble," Grant breathed at his side.

  Kane turned slowly and watched Falzone come back down from the comm station in the prow. All humor and life seemed to have deserted the man, but he kept his face implacable.

  Falzone joined them at the railing again, but his attention was solely riveted on the Tong ship. "Do you know a woman named Brigid Baptiste?"

  The question turned Kane cold inside, opening up a dozen different possibilities in just those few words. "Yeah."

  "She's going to want to talk to you," Falzone said. "I told her she'd have to wait a while because I wanted to talk to you first."

  Kane nodded, remaining noncommittal.

  "Baptiste came in with a Heimdall Foundation ship," Falzone said. "Do you know anything about that?"

  "No," Kane replied. "I didn't even know she was out here."

  Falzone stared at Kane's eyes. "I believe you. What is she to you?"

  "A friend."

  "What is she doing with the foundation people?"

  "I won't know the answer to that until I ask her."

  Falzone was quiet for a moment, then when he spoke again his voice was husky and harsh. "Ships carrying Wiy Tukay worshipers and Magistrates attacked my island last night."

  Kane waited, remembering the fields and the homes, the little girl with the sun in her hair who had been so excited about baby chickens. He made himself go cold and emotionless inside because it was the only way he could deal with the information he was certain Falzone was going to tell him

  "A Magistrate named Mallet led the group," Falzone said. "He left a couple people alive just to tell me that. He also said he wanted the maps I've made and found that show where all the comp businesses were before skydark. He took my little girl, Kane. He took her and he left word that if I didn't deliver those maps within the next three days, he was going to chill her, then come back for me. So I guess I need to know where you fit into this thing."

  Kane was suddenly aware of how Remar and the rest of the crew were positioned around Grant and him. One wrong move and he knew there would be a lot of falling bodies.

  "I'm going to help you," Kane stated.

  "I've got a lot of men ready to back me up on this play," Falzone said. "Why should I need you?"

  "Because this is a one-percenter play," Grant growled, "and you know it. When it comes to the time the shit hits the fan, Kane and I have stood through the worst of it."

  Falzone just stared at them.

  "You're too close to it," Kane said. "They have your daughter."

  "And don't you fucking forget it," Falzone whispered coldly.

  "Your people are used to you leading," Kane went on. "You can't back away from this thing, and you can't control it, either. You need someone on the outside of it to handle it. That's the only way you're going to get her back alive."

  Falzone breathed raggedly, barely managing control.

  Kane waited, keeping his hand ready to go for the blaster at his hip.

  "Tyler," Remar said softly, "these boys are right. They're right about the dangers here, and they're right about the way you got your nose all opened up over this. And you know it, too."

  Falzone shook his head slightly, never breaking eye contact with Kane.

  Remar stepped up beside Falzone easily. "The Mags, mebbe they'll settle for getting the maps, but they're gonna figure that's only one set of 'em. They'll think you might give another set of maps to the Tong just so they can devil 'em while they're searching for whatever the hell it is Baron Cobalt figures is so goddamn important. So they'll chill you, and if they chill you, ain't no use keepin' Ariel alive no more."

  Falzone spun on the man, and for a moment Kane thought he was actually going to hit him. Remar didn't flinch. "Fuck you, Remar," Falzone said heatedly. "Don't you ever say that about my daughter again. She isn't going to die. I won't allow that."

  "Get mad all you want," Remar said, "but you know that's what this Mallet fucker is wantin' you to do. You get mad, and he'll take your head off at your shoulders with no more thinkin' than if he'd been swattin' a fly."

  Falzone's left eye twitched.

  "I've seen these two men in action a few times," Remar said. "We ain't got nobody, 'cept mebbe me back when I was in my prime, that can even hold a candle to them. You want to get Ariel back safe and sound and in one piece, you're gonna need a small team to get to her and get her outta whatever hell she's in. Kane and Grant, whatever else they are, I'm thinkin' they're the beginnin' of that "

  Restrained emotion made Falzone shake slightly.

  "You listenin' to me?" Remar asked.

  "Yeah." Falzone let out a harsh ragged breath that sounded more like a pained gasp. "I hear you."

  "Where are the Magistrates and Wiy Tukay worshipers?" Kane asked.

  "They sailed east," Falzone said. "That's all anyone knows. Damn Ocean is huge to go looking for them. Probably headed for the mainland."

  "Then I have something else for you," Kane added. "I can locate that ship for you." At least, Lakesh could with the satellite views into the area. "The people I work with have access to a working satellite with a spying camera."

  "There's only one reason the Magistrate ships are running," Falzone said.

  "To lead us into a trap," Grant said.

  Falzone nodded. "Survivors from another ship Mallet attacked told the foundation crew that Mallet was after their comm gear."

  "Mallet has called someone else as backup," Kane said. Turning his eyes from Kane, Falzone stared across the water at the Chinese ship earnestly. "Then we need to raise an army, as well. Are you ready to talk to the Tong?"

  "Yeah," Kane replied.

  "Then let's do that first," Falzone said. "Because telling my wife that her baby has been taken is going to be even worse."

  KANE CLIMBED the ladder leading up to the Tong ship's deck, following Falzone.

  The Chinese captain, dressed in a black-and-white robe and wearing a sword on his hip, met them at the railing. The man appeared to be in his late forties, medium built, with a goatee showing only a few gray hairs. He stood in a relaxed stance, his hands crossed behind him, but Kane got the impression the man was a coiled spring waiting to snap if the meeting went wrong.

  "I am Lik-Tsun Rong," the captain said. "Commanding officer of Blessed Butterfly. Welcome aboard my ship. My master, Wei Qiang, extends his wishes for your comfort and safety."

  Kane and Remar flanked Falzone, leaving Grant and the three other men of their party covering their backs. They kept a path open to the railing and the longboat below. No effort was made to take their weapons from them.

  "I'm Tyler Falzone," Falzone said.

  "I'm well aware of who you are, Mr. Falzone," Rong stated. "I'm also well aware that you've never stepped foot on one of my master's ships, so I will admit to some curiosity about your choice to do so now."

  "I've come to make a deal with Qiang," Falzone stated evenly. "If he can cover his end of it."

  Rong nodded, but his eyes never left the group before him. "As a captain in my master's navy, I am empowered to act as Wei Qiang's agent."

  "I want to speak to Qiang," Falzone insisted.

  Rong considered that for a moment. "Radio contact from here is possible, but I dare not interrupt my master unless it is a matter of some import."

  "Fine," Falzone said. He turned and headed back for the railing. "Then we're done here."

  Kane kept the shotgun in his fist, ready to bring it up. The crew glanced toward the captain, who remained absolutely motionless, his eyes fixed on Falzone's back. Remar just grinned and shifted the cigar Kane had given him to the other side of his mouth.

  "Mr. Falzone," Rong called out neutrally, "perhaps an arrangement could be made."

  Coolly, Falzone stood by the railing and turned back. "I won't settle for anything less than speaking to Qiang."

  "Of course. Please accept my apologies." Rong held up a hand. "My personal quarters are this way. I will arrange an audience with my master. Please make yourselves comfortable." A young boy dressed in the maritime black uniform like the rest of the crew stepped forward and waved for them to accompany him.

  Falzone led the way. Kane, Remar and Grant fell into step behind him. The cool breeze of the morning blew over the ship, rattling the rigging and twisting the folds of the rectangular sails. And Kane knew the whole way that unseen snipers had them in their sights.

  IT TOOK more than twenty minutes to set up the radio connection to Wei Qiang, and when it came through, there were still fitful scratchy noises and instances of dead air.

  Kane remained by the doorway with Grant standing tandem. Neither of them spoke. Falzone knew what he had to do. They just had to cover his back while he did it.

  The captain's quarters were small but neat and carefully arranged. A few books occupied a shelf over the hand-carved desk in front of the bed. An intricately designed Oriental rug covered the hardwood floor. Red lacquered paneling covered the walls, each with mythical scenes burned into them depicting dragons and warriors and ghosts.

  Kane didn't know what all the pictures were about, but assumed they were from stories Rong had read, or maybe from some aspect of his culture. He knew Brigid would probably recognize them, and thinking of her brought other troubling thoughts. He had no idea what she was doing in the Northwest Territories or how she'd tied up with the Heimdall Foundation.

  Despite the tension involved in the situation, Falzone conducted himself well—even when he told Qiang about his daughter. Falzone sat on the small chair by the porthole, talking calmly but looking through the porthole out to sea.

  Rong's cabin boy poured green tea for all of them, then left.

  Qiang's voice sounded like cool leather. "Once I agree to this bargain with you, Mr. Falzone, I shall hold you accountable as long as you live. You do understand that?"

 

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