"Get off me!"
The lazy shove in the back from one of the goons escorting them finally tipped Arden over the edge. Even with her wrists bound in front of her, she didn't hesitate. Kirk couldn't have stopped her even if he wanted to.
In a wild motion she straightened and flung herself backwards, swinging one narrow elbow up hard into the man's face. There was a clunk of bone on bone as she caught him square in the jaw, the force whipping his head to the side and sending him stumbling with a growl of shock.
"You stupid little bitch!"
Kirk tried to get between them, but one of the other guards, hooked an arm around his throat from behind, yanking him backwards. The thug slammed the butt of his gun into Arden's stomach, folding her to the floor in a spluttering heap. A kick sent her rolling, but through tears of pain he realised she was laughing.
"Big fucking tough guy," she cackled hysterically. "Kicking the shit out of a girl who can't fight back."
Face purpling with indignant rage, the man yanked back the firing bolt of his old-fashioned assault rifle, but before he could aim it, Nevay was at his side, her black knife pressed against his jugular.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" she hissed. "We're bringing them to Cutter, alive."
The thug froze in place for a couple of seconds, eyes bulging in surprise. Then he lowered his gun, one hand rising to indicate he understood. He didn't try to speak, not with Nevay's knife tight against his throat.
"I thought so." Nevay stepped back, shaking her head in annoyance before the stooped down and extending a hand to Arden. "You alright?"
"Oh, like you care," Arden spat, slapping Nevay's hand away. Kirk reached down instead, clasping her hands to haul her to her feet while shooting Nevay a withering look. The woman shrugged, fired another warning look at her subordinate, then motioned them all to follow.
"You okay?" Kirk whispered as they walked started walking.
Arden wheezed a breath through her teeth and nodded.
With Nevay leading the way, they clumped through the dingy metal hallways of a massive refinery complex. On the surface the thing was a forest of bulky warehouses and smog-spewing chimneys, all of it concealing a labyrinth of tunnels beneath.
The lair of Cutter Jennings.
They went down. Kirk smelled metal, smoke and unpleasant chemicals swirling through the air. They passed other groups of Jennings' crew, rough-hewn men and women in thick blast-proofed coats carrying shotguns, rifles, and newer firearms that he suspected had been destined for a corporate security force before Cutter and his people decided to liberate them.
The clang of footsteps echoed all around them. Before long he caught sight of crackling, old-fashioned computers, their bulky screens connected by snaking bundles of wiring. Cigarettes made the air thick and acrid, and he resisted the urge to cough.
Ahead of him, Nevay seemed oblivious to it all. Her blade tapped mindlessly against her thigh as she walked, leading them down, down, down...
Then they emerged.
He heard Arden's gasp and he could hardly blame her.
A huge, underground loading yard sprawled out before them, a metal cavern that groaned with thundering machines and the clamour of voices. There must've been a hundred people in here, some of them guards, but most loading heavy crates onto ramshackle, repurposed train cars. On the lower level rails vanished into dark voids.
On the upper level he saw the platform at the far end of the room that Nevay was striding confidently towards. On that broad slab of metal he saw a throne – a hunk of massive dark metal re-cut from some piece of industrial equipment.
There was only one person who could be sitting in it.
Cutter Jennings was a big man. Not fat, not over-muscled, just big. His huge frame lounged out on some combination of couch and throne at the head of the room. At a glance Kirk put him at almost seven feet tall, the grimy, tattooed skin of his body visible beneath a loose-fitting tank top.
The coat he wore looked like some kind of black leather, but Kirk could see the thickened lining pads that bulked it out – the thing was bullet and blast proof. Even in his inner sanctum, Cutter wasn't taking chances. His snake-eyes flickered, heavy lidded and artificially coloured to blaze an unsettling crimson. Long fingers traced idle patterns on the gold-plated pistol lying across his lap. Behind him there was a large table with a tarp pulled over it – covering something lumpy and angular.
Kirk tried to stuff down the rising tide of terror in his gut, not quite believing he'd really ended up here. The unofficial lord of the docks did not give a lot of personal audiences, except for trouble makers he wanted to make an example of.
That was the rumour at least. Kirk only hoped things had been exaggerated. Beside him Arden had recovered more than just her breath, her face tight with barely contained anger. She scowled at the throne as they were led forward, looking like at any moment she might spring forward and attack anyone who laid a hand on her.
They came to a halt. Nevay stepped forward, hip cocked and a thin smile on her face.
"Hi, Uncle," she said simply.
Cutter's eyes slid to appraise her. A smile that sent shudders right up Kirk's spine followed.
"If it isn't my favourite niece," he murmured. His voice was soft and coarse, his accent thick with over-pronounced 'r's. Despite his soft speech his voice carried with ease through the cave-like expanse of the hideout.
Nevay lowered her head respectfully, and gestured with one hand. "Mr. Balfour is here, at your request."
"Indeed he is." Cutter's gaze moved back, as cold and unfeeling as a glacier. "Kirk, it is the height of rudeness to ignore an invitation to my home."
A silence yawned out between them. Kirk licked dry lips and tried to stand straight, casting a warning glance at Arden. Cutter watched him, waiting.
"Well, I'm here now," Kirk said, trying to keep his voice from shaking as he address the gang leader. "What is it you want to say to me?"
"I'd like to know where your girlfriend is hiding." Cutter's voice hardened. "Simple thing, really. Wraiths killed my son. They seem to have a special interest in her."
"If I knew where she was, I wouldn't be here!" Kirk answered. "We've been trying to find her for weeks!"
"Yes, I know." The hint of a glare rose in those eyes, and he nodded to the hulking meat-slab of a guard standing to the left of the throne. The man rotated his bulk and shambled out through a connecting door. A couple of excruciatingly silent minutes later he reappeared, dragging a spindly form along with him.
"Selbray!" Kirk blurted, his eyes going wide with horror.
The dock tech was clearly not having his best day. One of his eyes was almost swollen shut, and he stumbled along with the guard holding him by the scruff of his neck. Dried blood covered the lower half of his face below a badly broken nose, and the front of his overalls bore the same gore red stains.
"God damnit, kid," Selbray blubbered through tears and snot, flailing around helplessly. "What the fucking fuck did you get me into-,"
"Shut up." Cutter's voice cut through whatever pain and panic the unfortunate man was experiencing. Selbray let out a bleary whimper and stopped talking.
"You're an animal, Cutter," Arden hissed in disgust.
He shrugged. "I've been called worse. And after you and that detective put three of my people in a morgue outside his shop, I thought he might be able to shed some light on what you've been doing. Turns out I was right." Cutter leaned forward, clasping his large hands together. "Wraiths built in Hadrian, eh? On our side of the river?"
"That's what I told them!" Selbray exploded. "Let me go! I told you everything!"
Cutter's lip curled with distaste and he rose from the throne. Kirk couldn't help but take a step back as the dockside ganglord unfolded to his full height, looming over them like some god of the underworld. In three massive strides he reached Selbray.
"I told you to shut up."
It happened so quickly. In a single, sharp motion, Cutter Jennings grabbed Selbray's head and twisted. It looked effortless, but his massive frame imparted lethal force, and a sickening crack rang out across the loading bay.
Shock was all that kept Kirk from screaming as he watched Selbray's body thump to the floor. Arden let out a yelp of horror – even Nevay winced.
"Now then," Cutter said, turning away and loping back to his throne as though nothing had happened. "Let's continue from there. You found out that the wraiths are from our side of the city. What does that have to do with little Piper?"
"I..." Kirk shook his head for a moment and with a conscious effort wrenched his gaze away from Selbray's corpse. "We... we... know the corporations have her somewhere." He gulped, trying to find the rest of the words.
"And we know the wraiths are after her," Arden finished for him, her voice small. "We thought... if we found where the wraiths were coming from we would find her."
"And where are the wraiths coming from?"
"We don't know yet." She bristled and straightened up, speaking through gritted teeth. "And you can murder as many people as you like to scare us but that's the truth. We were trying to figure that out before your bitch-on-a-leash dragged us down here."
Nevay backhanded her across the jaw with a hiss of anger. Arden yowled and went spinning, but Kirk lurched forward to catch her, his cuffed hands clamping around her upper arm to stop her from falling over.
"Manners cost nothing," Cutter murmured, inclining his head to Nevay. The woman glanced at him and bottled her temper back up, stepping away. Silence ebbed out between them as Arden righted herself, wiping blood from her mouth. She shot Nevay a sneer before turning back to Cutter.
"There's a corp factory somewhere," she spat. "A joint effort."
"We were looking for the contracts – we have the blueprints for the machinery you'd need to build it," Kirk cut in, edging protectively in front of her. "Once we track down the information we can start piecing together which corps are in on it, and where they might have built it."
"Very good." The gang leader nodded sagely. "I'd like to find that factory. Sounds like an interesting place."
"Depends on your definition," Arden muttered.
"Well, we're not going to find it down here," Kirk continued before any more barbs could be traded. "We can't help you find anyone or anything. Let us go. Put a tail on us if you have to-,"
"Oh, I don't think so." Cutter shook his head with a smirk. "The two of you have already proved a slippery pair of fish. You'll stay here."
"Well then what are we supposed to do?!"
"The factory can wait. I think we've been going about this all wrong." A vicious smile crawled across his face. "We know Piper is with the corporations, somewhere in that ... place." Cutter made a lazy gesture in the direction of Hadrian's centre. "Under lock and key, and with AmpCore watching out for her too."
"Yeah, we'd figured that much out as well."
"Ah, but Kirk, you don't have my connections. My eyes and ears." Cutter's smugness filled the space between them like a bad smell. "I've heard some interesting things. Like how maybe Piper isn't the simple little girl you think she is."
He reflexively tugged at the bonds around his wrists, his expression twisting with anger. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Word on the street in the heart is that she's been out there, killing the wraiths. The attacks haven't stopped. She's connected to them somehow, and those freaks at AmpCore are protecting her. She's a precious commodity if you believe what you hear on the corporate gossip trails. They don't want to let her out of their sight."
"And I suppose you've got a great idea to deal with that, do you?" Arden snarled, stepping forward and wrenching away from the grasping hand of one of the guards. "Big bad Cutter Jennings, king of the docks – but you're going to need a lot more than your brass fucking balls and a bunch of deadbeat mercs to go up against the corps. They'll chew you up like mincemeat, and good riddance."
"You think so?" His smile broadened. "I have a better idea." Cutter motioned with one hand, and a nearby subordinate stepped forward, visor flickering into life over their eyes.
They stood, staring at Kirk for a moment. He heard something beep, before the guard's gaze shifted to Arden and repeated the process.
"Now that you're here," Cutter continued. "I finally have something that Piper Russell wants."
Kirk felt his blood go cold. The lord of the docks smiled his blade of a smile and lounged back into the throne, his gaze pitiless.
"I'm going to make this very simple for everyone," he said. "I will send out a message to our corporate friends saying that I have you both, and that if they don't deliver Piper Russell to me, within twenty four hours, I will kill you. Then they will have another twenty four hours before I kill the sister."
"What the fuck kind of plan is that?" Kirk snarled. "You think the corporations give a damn about either of us?!"
"No, but I think she does."
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