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the discomfort and focused entirely on the amount of noise she was making. It was one of the first things Slater had taught her, to put a mental barrier between what you need to do and the pain associated with what you need to do. If it takes getting scratched up to lower the volume of your movement, you do it, no question. Your personal comfort is practically last on the list of combat priorities.

She came out on the other side of the foliage at the edge of a flat stretch of dirt. The ground ahead ended at the lip of a wide concrete slope descending diagonally down to the creek bed. The walls of the flood control channel continued in either direction as far as she could see.

Two figures stood in front of the lip, backed up to the edge.

One dwarfed the other.

A man and a woman.

The man held a gun to the woman’s head.

The nearest streetlights were too far away to make out details, but Alexis didn’t need to. One look at the profile of the larger man gave her flashbacks to Ernie’s apartment, to the snapshot she’d glimpsed of Petr winging punches into the man’s ribs. It was an image that would stay with her forever, because of its implications. If she hadn’t shown up at the right time, it would have continued. Ernie would’ve known what was happening but he’d have been helpless to resist. He’d have felt his ribs breaking, his stomach rupturing, and he’d have been rendered immobile for the finishing blows, the ones that mercifully put his lights out before the pain reached a fever pitch…

And why?

So that some CEO could feel a little better about herself, satisfied by the brutal demise of employees who’d simply disagreed with her illegal business practices.

Alexis could finally grasp the concept of pure evil.

She wanted both Heidi and Petr dead, but she wasn’t stupid.

She came out of the foliage, standing up to her fullest height and then strode toward Petr like he was an old, dear friend. She could make out tiny outlines of features on his face in the dark, and she thought she saw him trying to hide a smile as she approached. It was probably her imagination, wishful thinking on her behalf. He wouldn’t betray his intentions so obviously.

Then again, he was on drugs…

She kept her face open the way she’d practiced hundreds of times in the mirror, because King and Slater had taught her that the biggest key to urban warfare was seeming innocent until you were feet away. It seemed to work. She beamed at Petr, delighted that he’d double-crossed Heidi, and maybe he actually had. She couldn’t know for sure, could only stay cautious.

So when she was maybe six feet away from the both of them she ripped her MP-443 Grach out and stuck it in Petr’s face with her finger an inch off the trigger. By the time she’d done that he’d already wheeled his aim away from Heidi, aimed right back at her, their arms crossing over, the barrels inches from each other’s heads.

Nothing happened.

In her peripheral vision she saw Heidi frozen like a deer in headlights.

Alexis said, ‘If you’d really double-crossed her, what I just did would’ve made you panic and shoot her.’

Petr hesitated. ‘What?’

‘I saw it. Right then. You made a conscious decision to not pull the trigger on her when I pulled my gun out. So she’s valuable to you.’

Heidi didn’t move a muscle, didn’t speak. Away from her company and her wealth she seemed tiny, frail, miniscule. Stripped of her luxuries and her material power, it was mightily clear just how little she was in control. She seemed to also recognise that, because she kept her mouth shut.

Petr said, ‘You are reaching. If there’s a gun in my face I react to it.’

Alexis was. She wasn’t completely certain of his intentions. It was close to fifty-fifty as to who he was allied with, and there was no clear path to getting rid of both of them at once. She’d known he’d seen her in the foliage, no matter how quiet she tried to be, how motionless. He was a trained hitman in charge of a crew. This was his bread and butter. If she tried to fire at him he would’ve only taken his aim off Heidi faster, shot her to pieces in the undergrowth. She was aware enough to know her own limitations.

Alexis said, ‘How long had you been standing here with her?’

‘Ten minutes. Maybe more.’ His wide eyes pierced the gloom, his pale skin almost luminous. He was searching for the slightest hint that she might shoot. ‘She trusted me, so she approached. Look how she’s standing there. How she hasn’t tried to run. She can dish out orders but in this world she just sits there like a puppy and takes them. Now lower your gun and do what you came here to do.’

He wasn’t accentuating random words anymore. The cocaine had worn off, apparently.

Alexis stared at him. ‘You’ll shoot me. The second I lower my gun.’

‘Reaching,’ he repeated. ‘You don’t know any of this for sure.’

Alexis took the risk to glance to her left. Sure enough, Heidi loitered like an obedient dog, just how Petr had described. Her arms were down by her sides, her posture unconfident, her eyes darting between Alexis and Petr like she was on meth, like she had the attention span of microseconds. Alexis knew what that demeanour revealed.

Heidi was only now terrified.

Which meant Petr holding a gun to her head hadn’t been real enough to scare her.

And Alexis noticed the bulge at the back of her thin jacket, the way it rested a little above where her belt would be.

She took all that from a single glance, then looked at Petr again. ‘If you really weren’t with her then you would’ve taken her gun off her.’

Petr blinked.

An oversight.

Alexis said, ‘Don’t pretend you didn’t see it there. I saw it from a glance.’

He didn’t say anything.

She jerked

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