Though it was his gun of choice and facilitated every strike against the enemies of The Lagos, Ryllen trained on each weapon the black market provided. He focused on weight – both in his hands and tucked beneath his clothing – as well as user interface. The more intricate devices, such as modified Unification Guard blast rifles, only worked efficiently during exercises. They were too bulky for close-quarter kills, he concluded. Nonetheless, he resolved to master their subtleties. The crusade might soon face a hardened opposition. Street battles were inevitable. Firepower would be essential.
They trained on the tiny private island of Barrio, six kilometers from Pinchon. Although their leader, Lan Chua, never admitted it, everyone knew he owned the island along with a consortium of like-minded investors. Movement was easy; everything off-book and outside the auspices of Pinchon’s Island Transport Discipline.
Ryllen never exercised so hard, ran so far, or studied so long. Classwork focused primarily on the disciplines of a new fighting strategy called guerrilla warfare. Lan Chua said it was developed on what he called “the dark quad” of colonies – Zwahili Kingdom, Moroccan Prime, Mauritania, and Boer – where centuries of insurgencies and civil wars posed the greatest challenge to the Unification Guard before the Chancellors’ empire collapsed. He said the strategies gave Green Sun the best chance to sustain itself for the long haul.
“More than one billion Freelanders want what we have,” he insisted during one of many pep rallies. “They will poison The Lagos as surely as their poisoned the continent. We stand at the front line to fight this cancer. Our enemies go far beyond immos. Some are traitors who double-deal with the enemy from their estates in Haansu. Others are mid-level managers in the seamaster corporate structure who sacrifice their fealty for undeserved wealth. Our enemies take many forms. We will, too.”
Ryllen understood, as did they all, that their targeted killings of immos and those who smuggled them into The Lagos was about to escalate. Yes, Green Sun had countless supporters throughout Pinchon – those in government, law enforcement, and seamasters – who looked away when bodies turned up with a green dot painted between their eyes. But would their protection hold when true citizens fell? How long before the great families of Haansu were directly affected? They had the resources to push back.
“We are going to suffer losses,” Lan Chua told Ryllen, Kai Durin, and two other captains as they walked the beach after sunset. “I have seen a tenfold increase in the hiring of personal security teams. My contact in Puratoon says the clientele for his products has diversified. His competitors deliver to a third of the islands.”
“Our side?” Kai asked.
“Many sympathizers. Yes. But other entities have opposing agendas. To what extent they engage us remains an open question.”
Ryllen never heard Lan speak with such uncertainty. As Executive Chairman of Discipline at Nantou Global, Lan had more spies and informants at the ready than anyone in The Lagos. He’d built his network with diligence and care, sinking deep inside all the major seamasters, the limp regional government, and its hesitant enforcement division, the Constabulary. Unlike years ago, when the Ark Carriers sent invincible soldiers planet-side to quell uprisings, Green Sun faced no uniformed army. It might have been easier that way, Lan suggested. At least the enemy could be clearly identified.
“Have you considered my proposal?” Kai asked.
“I have,” Lan replied. “Bombings would be a major escalation, and our broader message will be taken to heart by the enemy. However, we have avoided collateral damage to this point. We are popular because we can rightfully prove everyone we kill is an enemy of The Lagos or a collaborator. Bombs are less precise. If we make mistakes, we will become the enemy. You are one of my best, Kai, but I cannot undermine what I’ve built.”
Even in the dim light, Ryllen saw Kai’s frustration. The man he’d come to love spent the past few months researching and designing a new generation of explosives he thought to be game changers. They often debated the merits of Kai’s vision. Ryllen wanted to look his victims in the eye, to be sure their last thoughts were regret for having invaded The Lagos. He suspected Kai wanted to be far away from those terrified eyes. Kai started killing for Green Sun when he was fifteen, long before targeted murders were sanctioned. Four years later, the shadow spread wide across Kai’s features when he stared into the rear.
Ryllen waited until they were alone to address what he saw. They sat on rocks at the shore’s edge, sharing a pipe. Across the strait, the twinkling lights of Pinchon filled the night. The breeze died.
“Are you still with us?” Ryllen asked. “With Lan?”
“You mean, am I going to obey? Of course, RJ. Green Sun has given my life a purpose. No way I’m stepping out of line. I just wish …” Kai took a long drag on the pipe. “He’s too conservative, RJ. He put us in this position when he gave the kill order seven months ago. We did our job so well, now we have an enemy massing against us. They’ll strike sooner or later. You heard him tonight. We’re going to lose people. We need to make sure they lose more.”
“We will. We have more informants than ever, and we’ll start uncovering the high-ranking collaborators soon. I feel it. Then we’ll have a field day on those cudfrucking traitors.”
Kai passed back the pipe. “We go deeper into the muck, and I swear, you’re more confident every day. Where do you get it from?”
“Dunno. I wake up with the sun, feeling better about myself than I ever have. I kill people nearabout every week, but I don’t blink. Don’t wanna take it back or run home to Mother – not that she’d open the door. I guess the important thing is
