Project Maigo(6)

He looked at his watch.

“We land in an hour,” Alessi said, tucking her straight black hair behind her ears. Like Endo, her heritage was Japanese. Unlike Endo, she was born in the U.S. and had no love for Kaiju, fictional or real.

“Plenty of time,” Endo said.

“Not exactly.”

Endo raised a single eyebrow, a habit he had picked up from General Gordon.

“They were seen boarding some kind of stealth transport. Our military sources say it was already headed to Hong Kong to pick up other assets. If it’s as fast as they believe...”

“How long will we have?” Endo asked.

“Thirty minutes.”

“It’s enough.”

“Enough for what?” Alessi asked. “The attack is over. Authorities haven’t found any physical remains. And the few witnesses still alive aren’t talking, because they’re afraid they’ll be next. What do you expect to find?”

“Evidence,” he said.

“For what?”

“That the creature responsible...” He turned his eyes back out the window, seeing a world filled with amazing and horrible secrets. “...was not Nemesis.”





4



“This is all wrong,” I say, staring over the wreckage of Hong Kong’s port. I’ve never been to the city before. Honestly, I’m not much of a city guy. And Hong Kong is all city. Even the mountains struggling to rise up taller than the myriad skyscrapers are marred by crisscrossing lines of homes, businesses and cell towers. It’s like everyone in the city is trying to get higher than everyone else. If they were trying to get out of reach of Nemesis, I’d understand, but like everywhere else on the planet, height is somehow associated with success. Sure, you can see for miles, but here that means gazing out your window at buildings, smog, a congested port and an ocean cluttered with cargo ships.

Most of which are now half sunk.

The port is in ruins.

Thousands of massive shipping containers are strewn about like torn open Christmas presents, except that each of these gifts weighs several tons. And they’ve been tossed about so casually, there is no doubt, something of stunning strength put a whooping on this port.

“I know,” Collins says. “Early estimates put the dead and missing at three hundred twenty.”

I wipe my arm across my sweat-slicked forehead. It’s hotter and far more humid than it had been on the Ute reservation. To make matters worse, I can practically feel the smog clinging to the wet air, caking me in filth. And since I didn’t get to take a bath before our flight... Well, let’s just say that I’m riper than a peach left too long in the sun. At least Hawkins came through with the calamine lotion. He let me keep it and a bottle of anti-itch spray. “That’s not what I meant.”

She glances at me. Doesn’t need to ask. She knows I’ll fill her in.

“If this were Nemesis, it would be worse.”

“Worse? But—”

“Boston worse. Or Beverly. Or even Portland.” Nemesis very nearly wiped Boston off the map. She decimated Beverly harbor. And when she hit Portland, she was only half grown, yet she still left a path of destruction in her wake that dwarfed what I’m looking at. A ruined container catches my eyes. “Look. See the gouges?”

The wounds in the thick metal are ominous. Powerful. Three claws have peeled through the metal like it was little more than paper.

Collins sees it. “Shit. You’re right.”

“Maigo’s—Nemesis’s claws wouldn’t just slice through one of those containers, they’d obliterate it. The destruction here is just too small in scale.”

“But what about the human trafficking ring that was hit?” Collins asked. “All of the clients were killed, not to mention the ringleader. That’s a lot of very bad guys. It fits Nemesis’s M.O. of doling out justice.”

I nod. She’s right about that. And other than Nemesis, nothing else I’m aware of is capable of this. Aware of is the key phrase. “There’s something more going on here. What if we were supposed to blame Nemesis for this mess.”

“Please don’t tell me you think someone is setting up Nemesis.” Her voice oozes with doubt.

“You saw the news on our way here. There isn’t any doubt in the world’s eyes that this was Nemesis.”

Collins purses her lips. I can see she wants to believe me, but she’s struggling. In part, because the evidence is damning, but also because my belief that Nemesis isn’t entirely bad irks her. Not enough to create a divide between us, but certainly enough for her to cast doubt on my judgment of the beast. Which I appreciate. People who aren’t held accountable tend to make really poor choices. But this time, I have support.