The time was coming to hunt for Sabertooth, and Nakasi still did not know how she would sabotage it. Her hand grenade, one of many that she had stolen over the last few days, could easily break up the party. Then Nakasi could make her getaway. But how do I get back? How do I explain it if any witnesses survive?
Nakasi had thought that giving up on her karma would make her free and powerful, but now it was clear that she would not be either of those things for as long as she lived under the thumb of the Mauves and the CSF.
She was out of time. Standing up from her dark corner, she stepped over a pile of empty crates that had spilled onto the road. Still without a plan, she set off to join the hunt.
Something was thumping in the middle of town. As Nakasi crossed Main Street, she saw the source of the noise, and frightful memories flared in her mind.
Sitting on a leveled lot of concrete were two attack helicopters, identical to the one that had rained hell on the bandits so long ago. The CSF had once said that they owned three of the vehicles worldwide, and now, to Nakasi's surprise, they had made good on that. These two spun their rotors idly while resting on the ground, observed by a small army of unarmored women.
Nakasi tried not to be worried. The first helicopter had been brought down by a puny missile, after all. And neither the CSF nor the Mauves knew that she was a mole. She could take them down. She could take them both down, if they gave her the time.
With new urgency, she sprinted to the west end of town, where the hunting party was gathering. At the dead shell of a building that had once been a vehicle charging station, a mixture of warriors waited for Nakasi. A Mauve Sarge, middle-aged and relaxed, stood covered in worn-out bits of armor, with a necklace of pure white stones hanging around her stooped neck. Three other Mauves, all older than twenty, stood around her, each with a slightly different tattoo on the back of her hand. One of them looked Indian. Besides them, a woman wore CSF armor, but with a headband and projector-equipped night-vision goggles instead of the typical helmet, and wearing a backpack big enough to fit a small child. Behind her, another CSF woman rested a belt-fed autocannon on a bipod, fingering the safety switch. On her back was some other kind of heavy weapon, folded beyond recognition but with a clearly discernible warhead sticking out the top. Tiny painted letters spelled out 'Think Fast' on the side of the warhead.
All six warriors glared at Nakasi as she approached.
"I'm here," said Nakasi, drawing her bow. "We've been waiting long enough. Sabertooth's about to regret ever coming here."
"She's not the only one," said the sarge. "Scrummy, Blue Snake, do it now!"
"What?" Nakasi felt something cold and hard pressed to her back. She turned around, seeing two young Mauves aiming rifles at her. "What are you doing?" She looked back to the sarge and the two CSF women. They were aiming at her too, their faces hard and tight. Nakasi knew that look. They were ready to pull the trigger.
"Drop the bow," said the sarge.
Nakasi set it down as gently as she could.
A slow clapping emerged from the shadows, and a tall, thin Mauve with a stony face emerged into lamplight. "Well done, Redfingers. Mauve was wise to make you a sarge." The tall woman stepped past the rifles, standing face-to-face with Nakasi. "Slingshot," she said sharply. "You have no idea what you've thrown away."
A fist slammed into Nakasi's gut, and she staggered back, her midsection rumbling with pain. The tall woman's hand shoved her off balance. Nakasi's rear landed hard on the gravelly pavement, her wrists flashing with pain as they caught her fall. Before she could stand up, a boot pressed onto her throbbing stomach.
