“Shades?”
Halfway across the bridge, JD watched an old Toyota sedan spear across the road and crash through the enclave’s outer wall in syncopated slow motion. Brick and mortar tumbled inward, and the front of the car crumpled with the impact. The driver’s door opened and Red stumbled out, the slash of blood visible to JD even at that distance, pouring from his nose and running over his mouth. He stood beside the car, unsteady on his feet for a second. He punched himself in the side of the head and lifted his arm, motioning for the rest of his crew. Within seconds they were pouring through the gaps between the car and the fence. Most of them were half-naked, T-shirts tied around their faces as impromptu balaclavas.
JD saw Soo-hyun among them. Where the others ran in furtive fits and starts, Soo-hyun strode purposefully ahead, no fear, no doubt. The youths rushed into the private supermarket at the base of building three. Moments later shoppers and staff fled into the night. JD shook his head as he watched the chaos, watched kids run from the supermarket with arms piled high with organic free-range snacks.
Soo-hyun crouched beside their open backpack, stacked tight with glass bottles, and, together with Red, they stuffed torn bits of rag into the bottle necks. The Zippo was in their hand again.
“Oh, shit,” JD said.
Sharp crack of shattered bottles, followed by the whoom of petrol igniting. The supermarket glowed Halloween orange. Windows broke with the heat, and the flames reached outside, licking at the sky like so many thirsty tongues.
“Shades, what—” JD lowered his voice: “What the hell are you doing?”
“Diversion, hyung, a beautiful fucking diversion. I wish you could see it.”
“I can see it,” he hissed, watching stark silhouettes of adolescent vandals flinging more bottles into the inferno.
“All the logos and brand names going up in smoke. We need to do this more often.”
“You could’ve killed someone.”
“We cleared them all out first. Almost convinced the cashier to join us, but he was too scared.”
“Get to cover,” JD said, exasperated; “I can see the cops.”
They were still a few blocks distant—blue and red flash of police lights charging down one street, and the orange and green of private security rushing parallel along another.
Soo-hyun passed the info to Red. He whistled to the others, a piercing tone that cut through the line, and the delinquents dispersed, passing around and over the crashed Toyota as they fled.
JD hobbled down the length of the skybridge and left the robots behind. Mirrored architecture sent him the wrong way, and he doubled back and found the elevator. He leaned against the wall beside the call button and slowed his breath, willing his heart to calm down.
“Kid, what’s happening out there?”
“Car just pulled up.”
“Cop car? Security? Talk to me.”
“Those’re all over the place; this is different. Unmarked. BMW.”
“Head of security, or a resident?” JD put a hand in his pocket and squeezed the key cloner so the plastic case creaked in his grip.
“One second, bro. Facial recognition takes time,” Khoder said. “Alright, got it. Ok-bin Shin, Securitech manager for Songdo-dong district.”
JD hit the elevator button and waited. “Where are Shades and the others?”
“Can’t see them on camera.”
“Good; hopefully they got clear.”
The door opened and JD stepped inside the elevator, wishing it could ferry him away from the untamed violence.
Instead he went down.
Three guards stood at the security desk, two in white shirts badged like a cut-rate police force, the third in a tailored black suit with fine pinstripes, and heeled boots. They didn’t hear JD approach, trying to stroll casually, but managing only to limp.
JD cleared his throat and the guards all turned, one of the uniformed bulls putting a hand on his holstered taser as he spun.
“What is happening?” JD asked in his affected accent. He stood beside one of the uniformed guards, peering over the man’s shoulder. With his hand in his pocket he hit the switch on the key cloner.
“Copying now,” Khoder said in his ear. “Lot of keys on those three assholes, so it might take a minute. Like, sixty seconds, bro.”
“It’s nothing,” the head of security, Ok-bin Shin, said. She had a long face, dark eyes, and pale lips set in a permanent frown. Her hair was pulled tightly back from her face and tied up in a bun.
“Just some kids,” one of the others said—young, skinny, looking more like a student than a security guard. Students had to pay their tuition somehow. “The police are already here.”
Shin shot a glance at her subordinate to quiet him.
“Still,” she said, turning back to JD, “perhaps you should leave early—for your own safety, understand.”
JD cursed internally; outwardly he only smiled. “I cannot afford to lose this shift. If you do your job and keep this place safe, then I can do my job and keep it clean.” He hoped the smile sold it as polite duty, not condescending dissidence.
Shin exhaled sharply through her nose, amused. She didn’t speak.
“Still need more time, bro.”
JD leaned forward for a better look at the screens across the security console. Guards battled the blaze with fire extinguishers and a garden hose, while police set up a cordon, holding back the small crowd that had gathered to watch. JD was sure some of Red’s people stood in that crowd, pushing for a look at their own handiwork. Soo-hyun wouldn’t be there, though, they were smarter than that. Or if not smarter, more experienced.
JD shook his head for effect. “Such waste.”
“Got it, bro.”
JD turned and limped away.
Ok-bin called out behind him: “Cleaner.” JD turned and saw her holding her phone, glancing between it and him. “There’s no record of your limp; did you hurt yourself?”
“It is an old injury—always plays up when it rains.”
“But it’s not raining,” she said.
“Then it is about to start. You can take my word on that.”
He turned slowly, waiting for another
