Deathstalker 07 - Deathstalker Return

do you do for fun?"
    Luckily they reached the designated meeting place before Emma decided that she really had to kill Nina.
    Emma glided the gravity sled down into a shadowy square leading off from a particularly squalid and underlit street. It was all very quiet, with no one about, both of which were highly suspicious. There was always something going on in the Rookery, day or night. Emma stepped down from the hovering sled and glared about her. She'd already checked the overlooking windows and rooftops for snipers on the way down, but it didn't hurt to check again. There was nothing obvious to be seen, but the whole situation felt wrong. Nina stepped gingerly down from the sled, and then made a highly distressed noise as she realized what she'd just stepped into.
    "Oh, God, darling, this is disgusting! This whole neighborhood needs a good fumigating. With a flamethrower. I just know I'm going to catch something I'm going to have a hard time explaining to my doctor. Honestly, it smells like something died here. Very recently. Though admittedly, I have paid absolutely extortionate cover charges to get into supposedly fashionable clubs that smelled even worse.
    But at least they had a bar… Is that supposed to move like that?"
    "Hush," said Emma. She'd come deeper into the Rookery than she normally liked, now that she could no longer depend on peacekeeper backup, but the snitch's tale had been just too tempting. Even if the Durandal didn't turn up, the agent provocateur would have to know all kinds of useful things, which she was sure he could be persuaded to talk about. Though she might have to do the persuading discreetly off camera. There had been mention of Brett Random and Rose Constantine, and the things they'd done for Finn before they abandoned him to follow the Deathstalker. What could the Durandal be up to, that two such hardened scumbags had run away from it? Emma was close to answers now, she could feel it.
    She also felt very much that she'd just walked into a trap, even if she couldn't see it yet.
    "Where exactly are we supposed to meet this informer of yours?" said Nina, looking unhappily about her. "Tell me it's somewhere where they've at least heard of the basic rules of hygiene."
    "We are going to Mother Molly's Kitchen," said Emma. "Where they probably couldn't even spell hygiene. I hope you've had all your shots. Stick close to me, don't smile at anyone, and above all avoid the bar snacks. Especially the Long Pig Munchies."
    Emma led the way across the deserted square, checking every shadow and opening for unfriendly eyes, but everything was unnaturally still and quiet. Not even a stray dog rooting in the piled-up garbage. Emma strode along confidently, her head held high. There had to be observers around somewhere, and it wouldn't do to let them think they could get to her. Nina scurried along beside her, peering about wide-eyed like a tourist. The entrance to Mother Molly's Kitchen was literally a hole in the wall, with a door propped against it. There was no sign above the door, and no doorman, either. If there had been, he'd have been outside throwing people in. Emma grabbed the door and muscled it to one side, revealing a gloomy interior full of several kinds of interesting smoke. Nina took one sniff of the various aromas that drifted out and made discreet gagging sounds. But she still followed Emma in, muttering the word exclusive under her breath like a mantra. The floating camera bobbed uneasily over her shoulder.
    Inside the drinking den, it was dark and crowded and very quiet. An anticipatory sort of quiet. The twenty or so customers were leaning against the walls, smiling unpleasantly. They were all heavily armed.
    Set on a card table in the middle of the room was the severed head of Emma's snitch. From the lack of blood, he'd clearly been dead for some time. Nina swallowed audibly.
    "I'm assuming that isn't a good sign…"
    Emma ignored her, raking the room with her best intimidating stare. "So, a trap and an ambush.
    Twenty-to-one odds. Am I supposed to be impressed? I'm Emma Steel, from Mistworld. Right, you are all under arrest, for being criminally stupid in a built-up area. Drop your weapons, and I'll take you in alive."
    No one moved. The Durandal had clearly found some real hard cases to send against her this time.
    Trained killers. Emma did her best to radiate confidence. She just might have bitten off more than she could chew, but she couldn't let them believe that, or the