Damien folded his arms and peered over the edge of the roof. “He’s in the port administration building. I saw some uniforms hanging around there earlier, so he won’t be alone.”
“Okay, just tell me one more time who I’m looking for – a fat white dude with a posh accent, right? Anything else?”
“I got myself within earshot a couple of times this morning. He seems reasonable enough, I suppose.”
Mass nodded. “If Wanstead’s a good man, we might be able to persuade him to help us. If we tell him what’s coming, he’ll want to avoid a fight and prepare for what matters.”
“Or you could just take the guy out. You have fifty men. Put ’em to use, innit?”
Mass shook his head. “I can’t accept murdering a man unless there’s no choice.”
Damien frowned. “Having a conscience must suck.”
“It ain’t great, but it’s not something I can ignore. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it my way.”
“Fair enough.”
Smithy appeared on the roof, entering through a door that led to the warehouse’s mezzanine floor. Sipping from a bottle of water, he swished the liquid around his cheeks for a while before swallowing. He looked at Mass and nodded. “All right, boss, what’s occurring?”
“We’re going to take Wanstead hostage tonight and hope we can convince him to play ball. If not, we’ll make sure everyone is listening when we tell them Thomas murdered Wickstaff, and that Crimolok is coming to wipe us all out once and for all. We can fight each other or we can fight together.”
Damien scratched his scalp, appearing unconvinced. “You think that’ll work? Thomas’s men are the ones with all the guns.”
“They can still make up their minds about what they’re fighting for. Give a soldier a choice, he’ll usually make the right one.”
Smithy took another swig of water, then asked, “When do we make our move?”
Mass swigged the last of his beer, hoping it wouldn’t be his last. “Soon. We don’t have the luxury of waiting.”
“Okey dokey.” Smithy tossed his empty bottle of water off the roof. It bounced on a pallet of old wiring spools and pirouetted in the air.
Damien snarled. “Fucking litterbug. Be a man, fill the can.”
“I think global warming has taken a backseat, mate, but yeah, my bad.”
“It’ll be getting dark,” said Mass. “Come on, let’s go and tell everyone the plan.”
Tox met them down below. He and Addy were both armed, but they hid their faces beneath baseball caps. Both knew the plan because he’d gone through it with them earlier. Along with Cullen, they were the people he trusted most.
Addy pumped her shotgun. “So are we doing this or what?”
Mass nodded. “We wait until nightfall and catch Wanstead sleeping. I hate having to delay even a few hours, but we’re only going to get one shot at this. We need to get it right. Where’s Cullen and the others?”
“Gathering supplies and people in case we have to fight to make our point. I reckon we have enough bodies to pull it off, so long as we stick to the plan. Everyone is raring to go except for Rick.”
“Where is he?”
Addy shrugged. “He said he had other places to be and left. We can get things done without him.”
“I agree. Wanstead’s in the port authority building. The place is guarded, so follow my lead. We’ll make a move soon. Do what you have to do, then meet back here when you’re ready. This might be our last mission, so make your peace however you need to.”
Smithy elbowed Addy in the ribs and winked at her. “Fancy making peace together?”
Addy snarled. “I’ll make pieces of you if you try to touch me.”
“Ouch! Just remember that we’re on the same side.”
Mass walked away to find some silence, the banter of his friends fading behind him. He hoped it didn’t fade forever.
Night fell three hours later. Two hours after that, Mass led everyone through the civilian docks and towards the military area. He had fought with the decision to wait so long, but the risk of encountering guards had been too high during the day.
The port authority building was right behind a separating wall that had originally been part of the civilian docks, but because of its size, Wickstaff had cordoned it off inside the military area. It was a good thing, too, because it meant Mass wouldn’t have to lead his team through the heavily guarded military zone. They just needed to make it through a single checkpoint at the end of the civilian docks and then head straight for the building.
Again, Mass was uncomfortable with the task ahead. He didn’t know whether to approach the checkpoint in force or have his small team spread out. He was a kick the door down and start blasting kind of guy, so having to follow a plan filled him with self-doubt. Too many of his people had died under his watch. Any more would break him.
They rounded the corner, where a section of the quay turned sharply. The checkpoint lay thirty metres ahead. Two guards were visible, and both clutched rifles against their chests. Tox and Addy could probably take them both down, if he ordered it, but it would raise an alarm and make it all but impossible to get inside the port authority building quietly. They couldn’t risk a gunshot from either side.
“Keep your weapons down,” said Mass. “Let’s not make anyone nervous.”
They approached slowly, but when the two guards noticed their weapons, steel edges reflecting moonlight, they got upset. They raised their rifles and barked a warning. “Civilians are forbidden from carrying weapons.”
“We ain’t no goddamn civilians,” said Tox.
Mass waved a hand to quieten his friend. To the guards, he said, “We’re Urban Vampires. Seeing as you’re new around here, you might not have heard of us, but Portsmouth’s our home.”
One guard nodded. “From what I’ve heard, the Urban Vampires are about the toughest bastards around.”
Mass nodded. “You heard right.”
“But that don’t change the fact you ain’t coming through here
