The Dead Fleet (Juggernaut #3)

Twenty Two

The pain was fading. Tila pulled away weakly from her captors and tried to anchor her feet against the railing. The agents tugged her free and they were on the move again. Through the diamond cut-outs in the floor she saw Malachi running. He waved something. He shouted something.

'Typhon has Ellie!'

Tila's mind snapped into sharp focus. She anchored her feet again. The agents tugged. For the first pull she resisted. For the second she kicked. Off-balance, they dropped their captive.

Tila jumped to her feet.

So did the agents. One in front, one behind. These were agents, not incompetant pirates. They were trained to be aggressive, to strike hard and fast. Stun-sticks appeared in their hands at once, and they attacked.

Tila anticipated their attack. The one in front of her, the one between her and Ellie, would feint so the agent behind her could strike unseen. So Tila quickly edged forward. She sensed the swing and miss behind her. Now the agent in front would strike while the agent behind would pull back.

If you could control it, every fight had its own rhythm. Beat followed stroke followed step followed beat. If you knew the dance you could lead your partner.

Tila didn't like being led, and now she had the space to dance.

Malachi watched the fight from underneath. From here all he could see was a blur of footwork. He feared for her chances fighting two agents alone. The odds were not good. But he also knew what drove her, so perhaps this time the odds were even.

Typhon moved the lever back to its neutral position. Ellie stopped, her pale face level with his, but still separated by some distance. He quickly searched for another control and found it. He looked back at Ellie and beckoned her to him with one gloved finger. The girl trembled and shook her head. Typhon pressed the button and far above them the winch moved sideways along tracks, and Ellie approached the platform.

Tila spun left and right, left and right. A whirlwind in silhouette. The rhythm was hers to control. To her left she jabbed, forcing distance. She ducked a swing from the right and kicked low at the attacker, driving her foot into his shin, then stood to drive and elbow into a chin. She jumped, anticipating and avoiding the attack from her left. Tila turned, dropped to one knee and punched low, knuckles to gut. He doubled over making his head a new target. She punched up, knuckles to nose, felt the crunch.

An attack from her right swung past her ear. Tila swayed to one side, snatched the agent by the sleeve and pulled him lower, pulling herself back to her feet at the same time.

His stun stick stabbed into the one of the diamond holes and wedged in place. He made the mistake of holding on, trying to free it. Tila stamped on his hand, breaking his fingers. The stick fell to the ground below.

Tila watched it fall through the diamond holes. She smiled at what she saw and nodded.

Tila turned, stood, and advanced on Typhon.