Chasing the White Lion James Hannibal (essential reading TXT) 📖

gun tucked away. She hit the landing, ready to fend off a blade.

Bi Fan made an overhand stab. The tip hit polished glass. The barrier chipped but held.

“See,” Eddie said. “Two stairwells, placed side by side to make one. Bi Fan chose . . . poorly.”

Mesmerized by the strangeness of her circumstance, Talia placed a hand on the glass. Her competition did not reciprocate. Bi Fan took three more jabs at the barrier with her knife. She couldn’t break through. She threw back her hood and growled. Talia gave her a better luck next time shrug and walked on.

THE ARCHITECTS HAD BENT the aerial bridge into a gentle S to meet the twisting profile of the adjoining tower. Talia kept to the center. Walking close to either side made her feel as if nothing separated her from the five-hundred-meter drop to the city below. Looking back at the exterior, she could see lights in the windows of the Frenzy-level rooms. Otherwise, the building’s one-way glass kept the maze within a secret.

There were lights aglow in the mid-to-upper levels of the eastern tower as well. “Eddie, the White Lion mentioned inviting whales to the Grand Bazaar.”

“Tyler noticed. He’s got Darcy and Pell looking into it for us. They think Boyd’s using the tech convention in the plaza as a cover to bring in buyers for the players.”

“Have you accounted for these whales in the plan?”

She heard Tyler jump in on Eddie’s microphone. “It’s covered. You stay focused on the game.”

Talia stopped talking as she left the bridge, too stunned to speak. Boyd had created an over-the-top Turkish bazaar atmosphere—without the accompanying claustrophobia.

An arched mosaic ceiling hung four stories over the promenade. A bubbling tile fountain marked the center. Along the edges, workers stocked wrought-iron shelving with all manner of tchotchkes. Others set up tables and chairs. Catering carts sat dormant, waiting to be fired up to serve the guests.

“This is surreal.” Once she found her voice again, Talia did her best to keep her lips from moving. Armed guards watched from every corner. “He’s setting up for a party.”

Tyler echoed her thoughts. “A party where drugs, weapons, and children will be sold.”

“Do you think these workers know what will happen here in a few hours?”

“Unlikely, but they have some inkling this is a shady job. Guards with submachine guns and whatever premium Boyd is paying them ought to be clue enough. Ignorance is no excuse.”

A scoreboard hung over the fountain. As Talia drew near, the screen switched from the tallies to a silent replay of Bi Fan trying to stab her way through the glass. Several workers stopped to watch.

She swallowed and whispered through clenched teeth. “Yep. Surreal.”

Two bays opened like caves in the northern wall of the promenade, and one in the southern, adjacent to the fountain. The closest one to Talia on the northern side had a picture of a Hyena on the screen over the opening. The southern bay had a picture of a Snow Leopard. The screen over the second bay in the northern wall remained blank.

“Do you see the pedestals near the mouth of each bay?” Eddie asked, highlighting each one in her augmented reality vision. “They have screens and keypads. It looks like you need to get to the pedestal of the far northern bay and enter your code. I can send it to your glasses.”

“No need. I—”

The patter of running feet behind told Talia she shouldn’t have spoken so soon. She glanced over her shoulder and heard Eddie slap the table beside his microphone.

“That’s Bi Fan! Get going!”

Talia took off, but Bi Fan was already at a full sprint, and it gave her an advantage. She caught up and grabbed Talia’s hair, jerking her back.

“Ow!” Talia threw an elbow.

The hacker stumbled back, holding her nose.

The move gave Talia the edge she needed. She reached the pedestal first and typed in her number, which was flashing in her lenses despite her rejection of Eddie’s offer. A black panther appeared on both screens—on the pedestal and over the bay—with the number Eight Two in front of it like the number on a sports jersey.

Bi Fan skidded to a stop a few feet away, stiletto up and ready.

The nearest guards raised their machine guns.

Talia gave the hacker a lift of her chin. “I guess this is a no-kill zone.”

“Then you had better watch your back in the maze.” Bi Fan’s English was pretty good. She backed off, signaling her deference to the guards. “You cannot hide here forever.”

The knife disappeared. Talia never saw where it went.

As soon as Bi Fan had moved out of range, Talia returned her attention to the pedestal. She selected her language, as if she were standing at an ATM, and a list of instructions appeared. The bay gave her a million-dollar bonus, which immediately split into a half-million each for her and Val on the scoreboard. The money was a staging budget—bay supplies, decorations, and the like. The Frenzy workers would take care of everything.

Tyler coached her over the comms. “Enter a request for twelve eight-foot-by-eight-foot cages. We want to telegraph an intent to sell live products. Maybe the real human traffickers will seek you out.”

“Copy.” She knew the order was all for show, but every button-push left a bitter taste in Talia’s mouth.

A buzzer sounded through the promenade. On the scoreboard, a message flashed.

ALLBAYSCLAIMED

FRENZYROUNDTWOINITIATED

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eddie asked.

Talia shook her head. “Nothing good.”

The no-kill zone status made the Grand Bazaar an attractive place to hang out and observe. Talia wandered the promenade. The Snow Leopard, Rudenko, had returned to his bay to direct a crew of locals in gray jumpsuits as they installed a large rotating platform—perhaps for his antiquities. He gave Talia a nod.

She gave one back.

Workers in the same gray jumpsuits bustled about in Atan’s bay, but Atan wasn’t there.

“Are those refrigerators?” Eddie asked. “What’s Atan selling?”

“Not stocks and bonds.”

“Pharmaceuticals, remember?” Tyler interrupted them, using Eddie’s mic, by the extra distance in his voice.

Talia could see him