"How are you feeling, sir?" a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed youth asked as he entered the room. Behind him trailed a parade of officers.
"Like death," Sunbearer replied, meaning every word. The mask muffled his voice. A bolt had damaged his lung, leaving him unable to breathe on his own. Even with the breathing apparatus, each breath was a ragged rasp.
"Who are you? Where is Police Chief Rolf?" It offended Sunbearer that Rolf was apparently too busy to attend to his mayor personally. All the more reason to kick him out next election. He already had a secret smear campaign prepared to ruin the man's reputation. That fool's self-importance had almost gotten him killed!
Much to Sunbearer's surprise, the youth's expression turned mournful. He closed his eyes, releasing a pained breath. "I'm sorry, sir. But the chief didn't make it. He gave his life so you might escape."
Then, Sunbearer noticed the badge on the youth's lapel. He gasped, then winced at the pain. Impossible. Rolf—dead? But he'd been a mountain of a man, an insurmountable pillar. For him to be dead seemed unthinkable.
"My name is Jan Halkken. I will be acting Chief of Police until the next election. I came to check on you personally, Mayor Sunbearer. If you need anything, I'm at your service."
"I…" Words failed Sunbearer. The news of Rolf's death rolled and tumbled in his mind, still seeming impossible.
Then fear struck as he realized something. The heart monitor increased its pace several notches. With Rolf dead, who would protect him? The Konquellian sought his head. His sins were still chasing him!
"Calm yourself, sir; you are quite safe," Halkken said, alarmed at his mayor's sudden panic. "Your location is a secret, and dozens of men are guarding you. They won't find you here."
This didn't appease Sunbearer. He'd assumed that about his airship, too! His heart tore at the loss of his precious vessel, he'd spent millions of credits and five years to build it. A masterclass of avian design, and now that masterpiece was a flaming wreck.
"Get me out of here. It isn't safe!" Sunbearer's heart monitor sped up as he spoke. "The Konquellian—he's still after me. He'll find me here; I just know it!"
"He won't, sir. We'll make sure of it. You have the best protection in the nation," Just like his predecessor, Halkken was a fool. Sunbearer wasn't safe until that Konquellian was dead.
"We're pursuing him right now," Halkken continued. "Nitao Hiancaing and his accomplice won't escape. We have a manhunt underway. I assure you, we'll tear down every brick in the city if we must in order to find them."
"Move me now. This place isn't safe." He needed more protection. He was too open, too vulnerable. The Konquellian would get him.
"But, sir, you are in critical condition."
"I said, move me, you fool!" Sunbearer shouted before breaking down into rounds of coughing.
The acting chief sighed. "I'll see what I can do. Your safety is our priority."
"Then get out and do your job!" he gasped. The imbecile. What was he doing here when assassins were running rampant?
"Good day." Halkken gave a respectful nod before leaving the room.
Immediately, Sunbearer regretted his departure. He was alone again, trapped in this accursed hospital room. The wires attached to his body were like tightly wound coils, imprisoning him on this hateful bed. He opened his mouth to call his bodyguard, Briant, but realized a horrible truth. The Konquellian had killed him too, leaving Sunbearer defenseless.
"I'm alone. He's going to get me!" Sunbearer's eyes darted around the overly bright room. That cabinet in the corner—could the Konquellian be hiding inside? Or underneath the spare bed? Could the Konquellian be hiding there instead? The heartbeat monitor sped up even faster.
A nurse ran into the room, concern evident on her face. "Sir, are you alright? Doctor, his heartbeat is increasing at an erratic rate."
"He seems distressed," the doctor said. "Cal, you're safe here. We will take care of you."
His eyes widened in terror at a horrible realization. The woman—she was blond, just like the Konquellian's lackey. It was her! Here to assassinate him and finish what she'd started.
"Nurse, get a sedative," the doctor said. "He's going to hurt himself if we don't calm him down."
"No! She's going to kill me! Don't you understand? She works for the Konquellian!" But Sunbearer's words fell on deaf ears, and the nurse injected something into his arm—poison, no doubt.
Sunbearer wanted to object, but the room became darker as the poison worked its deadly magic. That idiot Halkken. Hadn't he warned him? Now he was going to die! Die… Blackness consumed him, and everything went dark.
///
"The poor man." Halkken shook his head as he left the room to greet Shiisaa. "The trauma of the attack has affected him worse than we feared." He was certainly in no shape to run the city in this condition.
From inside, Sunbearer became even more agitated, to the point where the nurse needed to sedate him.
"Pity," Shiisaa replied, her expression solemn. "Mayor Sunbearer seemed like such a bright, charismatic man on TV, but everyone has their limit. I suppose I can't blame him after what he suffered."
Halkken peered back into the room at the now-sleeping mayor, peace finally returned to the troubled man. "Don't worry, sir. We will find your attacker and bring them to justice," he whispered.
"Good news on that front," Phú2 said from his phone.
"Oh?" Halkken said, his heart speeding up with excitement. "Have you found them?"
"Yes! On an abandoned beach property," the AI replied. "Captain Drakjar's team is moving to surround them right now."
"Good. Tell them to wait. I'm coming myself," Halkken said, already speeding through the hospital halls. Shiisaa followed behind in step. He dodged around nurses doing their duty. "I'm leading the assault myself." After his failure at Camp F, he swore he'd capture the scary blond woman personally.
"Roger!" Phú2 said, nodding enthusiastically.
"Don't worry, Chief Rolf," Halkken thought. "I'll avenge you soon. I'll prove you were right to give me this job."
///
"The deport's still happening, huh?" Bile gathered in Jafia's throat as she listened to the news report from her phone as an overly cheerful anchor explained the situation. She explained it was to commemorate the grievously injured Sunbearer, who remained in critical condition.
The building they were hiding in used to be an office building that managed the warehouses and other beach properties in the surrounding area. But after being bought out by another company and moving their offices, nobody had bothered taking the property. Thus, they converted the building into condos for cheap. It was one of a dozen safehouses their higher-ups had set up for them.
Like all other safehouses, it wasn't anything pretty. It had the bare essentials—some chairs, a used couch, a refrigerator, and piles of boxed canned food and bottled water. While not fancy, it would keep them alive for the foreseeable future.
"Still, they're really doing it." Jafia seethed, gripping her hand so tight it hurt. She'd hoped Sunbearer's death would make Project: Ugly Duckling fall to pieces without its head pushing it forward. But Jafia realized she'd been naïve, especially after Luciest's recent announcement that removed the Ottomon's citizenship—out of concern for their "recent violent behavior".
"So naïve." Her actions had only made things worse. Of course, the powerful would scapegoat the Ottomon for their own ends, using Jafia's actions as a convenient excuse.
And the worst part? She hadn't even killed her target. No doubt Sunbearer was sipping expensive wine as he laughed from his lavish hospital bed.
"Don't beat yourself up," Nitao said, wincing as he hobbled over to her. "Both our fault. Both our failure."
"Yeah." What else could she say? The Konquellian felt the sting of their failure too—perhaps even more so, considering the crimes Sovereign had committed against his family. And he'd taken an even worse beating than Jafia had. And yet, he hadn't complained once. Though this wasn't surprising considering Nitao came from a fallen clan that once protected the royal line. It explained so much.
"Yeah, I can't say the higher-ups are too happy about this," Rojan said, shaking his head from his seat across from them. "Furious, I might say. The ploy to de-citizenize the Demons obviously intends to create a refugee crisis in Vanderfall. We underestimated Luciest's cunning."
Jafia rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache coming on. So much for causing fear and destabilizing the UOP's government. They hadn't even assassinated anyone important. What a disaster. "Please tell me we didn't ruin the higher-ups' plans for the upcoming attack?"
"Potential refugee crisis or not, it's still going through, as far as they've told me," Rojan replied. "Though, it's kind of obvious the UOP is likely suspecting it, despite our best efforts."
"That's something, anyway. What are our orders?" Jafia wasn't looking forward to returning home and facing the consequences of her failures, but she'd still do her job, regardless. Hopefully, they wouldn't ask something suicidal as punishment.
"Actually, they want us to stay put for now—rest up," Rojan replied. "The authorities know our appearance, and it's too hot to move right now. When the guns start firing, then we can flee the city. The police will be too busy to bother with lowlife's like us."
"If the city survives the Sovereign's judgment." A little over three days remained until the appointed date Matthias had prophesied.
"Let's be realistic. With the Demons as disenfranchised as they are, I doubt we can rely on them causing some useful chaos for us," Rojan replied.
"Yeah." Still, Jafia wondered if there was something more to Matthias's prophecy than a potential racial upheaval. The prophet had a quality that made you listen to him. His words seemed like truth spoken aloud—if that made any sense.
"I've been working too hard." The Sovereign wasn't real. Though she had to admit, Jafia found Rocke's earnest belief in the Sky Lord endearing.
"Rocke." She closed her eyes. Even being near him would put him in considerable danger, considering the heat on her. And if he learned she was a spy? She pushed away those distracting thoughts.
Kallane could have him. She'd be better for him. Still, something inside Jafia scorned surrendering Rocke to another woman. Stupid pride, she supposed. While she wished to remain with Rocke with all her heart, Jafia was a spy and a killer. Why was she allowing these feelings to distract her?
She leaned back in her seat and sighed, wishing she were on a mission instead. It would spare her all this time alone with her thoughts. She couldn't be with Rocke, and that was the simple truth. To distract herself, Jafia scanned through the news, checking on Sunbearer's condition. With luck, he was already dead.
"There really isn't much on Sunbearer," Jafia mused. The press had many opinion pieces about the attack—most siding with Luciest on blaming the Ottomon for it—but nothing about the mayor's current condition. It made her wonder if he was near death's door. Nitao's sudden standing up broke her reverie.
"Nitao?" Jafia asked, catching her friend's expression, and followed his eye. Through the security feed, she saw armed men in tactical gear a couple blocks away. And leading the procession was a familiar face—the officer she'd seen at Camp F.
"Rojan!" Jafia didn't need to say more; her fellow spy was already reaching for his sidearm on the table. Of their group, he was the only one unharmed. He was their best chance of getting out alive. An alarm blared as an officer walked past a perimeter sensor.
Her body still ached from Camp F, but she retrieved her weapon with practiced speed, giving it a quick inspection to check if it was in working order. Nitao stood up, and Jafia noticed how he favored one leg and winced when he moved. Regardless, he offered no complaint as he hobbled to a hidden hatch underneath a rug.
Jafia never hide anywhere without an alternate escape route. This one led into the sewer system—cramped and maze-like, but it was their best bet. From the camera feed, Jafia saw the officers had already reached the building's front door.
"Will you be okay, Nitao?" Jafia asked with concern. Her friend had received quite the beating when he'd faced off against the late police chief. But the Konquellian only nodded, his face pained but stoic as he climbed down the rungs into the sewer below.
"Ugh, I must be slipping. We should have set this place up with explosives," Jafia said as followed Nitao.
"Actually, I think your propensity for explosives is working to our advantage," Rojan said, smirking as he eyed the camera. "They're being very careful—using a bomb team first before breaking in."
"It's something, at least." Jafia's nose scrunched up as she dropped the last few feet into the sewer proper, landing in greenish water. She pretended not to notice. Above, Rojan locked the hatch behind him as he climbed down.
Every step through the rancid water sounded like a thunderclap as they traversed the tunnels, making Jafia wince. Thankfully, the echoing of their steps masked their direction, but she doubted it would be hard to track them. They abandoned stealth in favor of speed to reach the nearest exit point. It led to a street with an escape vehicle only a hair's breadth away.
But their trek remained slow—the water dragging at their steps. Worse, Nitao was lagging, his injuries impeding him.
"Nitao!" Jafia would have gone back to help him, but the tunnel was narrow, barely fitting a single person. These passages were designed mainly for maintenance.
"Get moving. I'll keep up," Nitao said, his lungs heaving. His words left no room for argument. The sound of pursuing footsteps echoed through the tunnel, impossible to tell which direction they originated from. Jafia grimaced as her hand brushed one of the slimy, cold brick walls and pretended not to notice.
"Hurry." Rojan's tone made it clear he'd be willing to leave their straggler behind. No reason to doom the group for a single person.
But Jafia shot her friend a reassuring smile. She swore they'd all escape together. By her estimation, they had only about a block left until they reached their destination. Her heart raced as the pursuing footsteps drew closer. She urged everyone faster.
"Gah!" A loud splash sounded behind them, followed by a grunt of pain. She turned back to see Nitao had fallen, his face contorted in agony. Jafia opened her mouth, but the Konquellian only shook his head, his eyes urging them to abandon him. His pride wouldn't allow him to become a liability.
"You idiot." Jafia pushed past Rojan and grabbed her friend's waist. Despite the man's muscular bulk and the narrow tunnel, she managed to return him to his feet.
"We don't have time for this." But Rojan didn't abandon them, his weapon ready for any trouble.
"Should have abandoned me," Nitao said, his legs shaky as he followed behind Jafia. She kept one arm out for support.
"Never. I don't abandon comrades." Besides, it was her stupid self that got him into this trouble. She'd never forgive herself if she abandoned him to the UOP dogs. Despite himself, this earned a weak smile from the Konquellian. Together, they somehow reached the ladder that would lead them to the surface.
"That's pretty high up." Jafia's eyes trailed up to the small manhole cover above them. She cursed, knowing how difficult it would be to get Nitao up those rungs in his condition. "Is there no other exit nearby? A place to hide?"
"I'm afraid not." Rojan tensed as the sound of pursuit grew louder.
"Hurry. I follow," Nitao said through ragged breaths. He gestured for them to go first, his gesture insistent and urgent.
Jafia's mouth tightened as she considered their options. They could try pushing Nitao up the ladder, but time was short.
"Okay." Jafia allowed Rojan to ascend the ladder first, while she kept her sidearm ready. She winced as he pushed the cover aside, the metal shrieking as it shifted.
Before leaving, her fellow spy made a quick sweep of the area above. "It's clear." Then he leaped out, vanishing to start their getaway vehicle.
"There they are!" someone shouted, and Jafia's heart raced as men in police uniforms appeared around the bend, weapons at the ready. Without hesitation, she opened fire. But her shots went wide as they ducked back to safety.
"We need backup," one officer said through their comm. "We are in section D—three suspects."
"Nitao, get up the ladder now. I'll cover you." Jafia's tone allowed no argument—but Nitao surprised her. She yelped as he suddenly grabbed her and hurled her upward. She gasped and flailed, barely grabbing the ladder. It was slimy to the touch and ice cold.
"What are you doing?!" Jafia demanded, outraged. Her heart sank as she caught her friend's expression, understanding what words could never say. She uttered a colorful curse, realizing his plan.
"My family lost honor long ago. I am no exception. Failed in almost everything I did. Failed to even properly avenge my clan.," Nitao said—the most words she'd ever heard from him. "But I will restore honor through this. Goodbye, Jafia."
"No, don't!" Jafia cried, horrified.
But Nitao charged at the officers behind their cover before they opened fire. They yelped in surprise as the Konquellian's fists flew like a madman's. He might be half-dead, but he was still ready for a fight.
"No…" What should she do? She didn't want to abandon him! But backup wouldn't arrive any second—there wasn't time. She couldn't save him.
"I…" Jafia drew in a breath and climbed with everything she had. She wouldn't let his sacrifice be in vain. She prayed to the Sovereign that her brave, foolish friend would survive. "Thank you, Nitao." More steps echoed through the tunnel, but Jafia scampered up the ladder, returning the cover to its place.
"Thank you, Nitao." But she didn't let herself cry. She wouldn't—not until the UOP burned for their crimes, for their senseless cruelty. Somehow, some way, she'd be their instrument of destruction. This she swore with her entire being.
But for now, she ran toward a rather nondescript car, Rojan at the wheel. Her vengeance could wait—for now, she had to make sure Nitao's sacrifice wasn't in vain. Retribution would arrive soon.
This she promised.