“On the contrary. I regard him highly. Enough that if you kill him, we shall kill you.”
“You believe him?” Ni asked Pau. “Or will he kill us both?”
“Lower the blade,” Pau quietly said to Ni.
NI COULD SEE THAT HIS OPTIONS WERE GONE. HE COULD KILL Pau Wen and die right now, or he could lower the weapon and take his chances.
Tang, not Pau, was who deserved to die.
He withdrew the blade and tossed it to the floor.
CASSIOPEIA AIMED HER BOW DOWNWARD, READYING HERSELF. She was unsure of what was happening, other than the fact that Cotton was hurt, Viktor was pissed, Ni was in trouble, and she was in a position to do something.
“Don’t do it,” she shouted.
MALONE HEARD CASSIOPEIA’S VOICE.
His head spun toward its source and he saw a crossbow projecting from the shadows of the first-floor gallery, near one of the pillars, aimed at Viktor.
“Drop the gun,” she yelled. “Now.”
Malone stared at Viktor, who did not move, the weapon held tight with both hands, eyes sighting an aim straight at Malone’s chest.
“Shoot me and she shoots you,” he said to Viktor.
He doubted he could flick the blade before the gun fired.
“That’s my knife,” Viktor quietly said. “I gave it to her.”
“And she gave it to me.”
Which spoke volumes.
Viktor’s eyes closed, then opened. Malone caught a flicker of understanding, the gaze telegraphing a different intention from the aimed weapon. Then he knew. What Stephanie had said.
“You take care of her, Malone,” Viktor said.
Then he swung around and adjusted his aim.
Straight at Karl Tang.
TANG GREW IMPATIENT OF VIKTOR’S FACE-OFF WITH MALONE.
What was he waiting for?
He grabbed the crossbow from the brother beside him and yelled, “Shoot him now, or I’ll shoot you.”
Viktor whirled.
Every fear he’d ever harbored for this foreigner now bubbled to the surface as the gun barrel focused on him.
He fired the crossbow.
An instant later the arrow slammed into Viktor Tomas.
The other brother, sensing danger, had likewise readjusted his aim. A second arrow pierced Viktor’s chest, the shaft sinking deep. Viktor choked, blood spewing from his mouth. The gun fell from his grip. A hand came to the throat.
His knees dissolved into jelly.
Then he collapsed.
CASSIOPEIA WINCED AS VIKTOR’S BODY WAS PIERCED IN QUICK succession by two high-speed arrows. Only a few seconds passed before he teetered, tried to find his balance, then collapsed to the floor with a grunt.
She stepped from the shadows to the balustrade, aimed her bow at Karl Tang, and fired.
NI REALIZED THAT CASSIOPEIA VITT WAS IN THE UPPER GALLERY and apparently armed. The two brothers had shot their arrows. The foreigner was down. Malone held a knife, but he was a long way away.
She was their only chance.
Vitt came into view, a crossbow in her hand, and she fired.
Tang, though, had anticipated the move, diving to his right.
The arrow found the floor and careened away.
MALONE COULD SEE THAT CASSIOPEIA’S SHOT HAD MISSED. HE held the knife, but little good it could do.
The gun.
Which lay near Viktor.
He had to get it.
TANG CAME TO HIS FEET AND DARTED TOWARD THE SWORD NI Yong had discarded. He gripped the hilt and commanded the two brothers to seize Ni.
He’d show Pau Wen who possessed courage.
He cocked his arm and advanced toward Ni.
NI TRIED TO FREE HIMSELF BUT THE TWO BROTHERS WERE strong. Pau Wen had drifted away, closer to the shelves, watching.
His gaze darted out into the hall.
Malone was searching for something.
Tang was less than three meters away, the arm holding the sword ready to thrust the blade into his gut.
MALONE FOUND THE GUN.
The pain in his shoulder was excruciating. He’d doubted he would have been able even to toss the knife. His right hand lifted the weapon, finger on the trigger. He wondered if there were more brothers in the hall, preparing at this moment to skewer him, too.
No matter.
He had no choice.
He aimed the gun and fired.
TANG HEARD A RETORT, THEN FELT SOMETHING POUND INTO his right side. Strange, the feeling. Nothing at first, then unimaginable pain, as if a surge of energy had passed through him, scorching his insides.
He stopped his advance and staggered to the right.
He stared out into the hall and saw Cotton Malone aiming a gun straight at him.
Another bang, and a bullet pierced his chest.
A third shot.
Then he saw nothing at all.
EIGHTY-ONE
CASSIOPEIA HAD BEEN SHOCKED BY VIKTOR’S DEATH. TANG’S, though, pleased her. His head exploded with Cotton’s final volley, propelling him off his feet, to the floor.
“None of you move,” Malone called out, the gun still aimed. “Minister Ni, get that sword.”
Ni obeyed.
