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Williams bridled, but acquiesced.
“If Markovic is in morph, if he’s this bug thing, then we have no choice,” Dekka said. Her next words sounded wrong in her own ears. They were the logical move, the inevitable move. Yet that did little to soften Dekka’s loathing of her new role. “If he’s in morph, he has to be killed. Fast. Immediately. No hesitation. His power is . . .” She shook her head, memories of desperate voices begging for death, memories of the smell of every possible disease and corruption. “This man has to go down.”
“If he’s not in morph?” Malik asked.
“If he’s not, then we pin him down, we let Detective Williams handcuff him, and we stay with him until Markovic is in a cell he can’t escape from.”
“There’s an old saying,” Malik muttered. “No battle plan ever survives contact with the enemy.”
Dekka nodded. “Preaching to the choir, Malik.”
Five minutes later, they were in place.
Cruz knocked. “Mr. Markovic, it’s Julio. We have a water leak coming from your bathroom.”
A raspy, feathery voice from inside said, “Well then, I have no choice but to let you in, do I?”
That was when Dekka knew.
“He’s morphed and he’s ready!” Dekka whispered. “No waiting. Armo?”
Armo launched his morphed self—almost nine hundred pounds of muscle, sinew, and fur—against the door, which did not just splinter but almost seemed to fly apart. He staggered forward under his own momentum and fell facedown.
Dekka bounded in, stepped on Armo’s back, raised her hands, and prepared to shred whatever the hell the creature in front of her was.
Shade burst in through the already-shattered balcony door.
And with terrible timing, Malik and Francis popped into view inside the apartment but just behind Markovic, where Dekka risked shredding them.
Dekka held her fire and momentum carried her forward into—then through—Markovic. The insect cloud parted and re-formed as Dekka smashed into a side table and sent a vase to shatter on the marble floor.
Armo was on his feet, fast for a creature his size, but then came a flash of movement, a bluish blur, and Armo had gained a living backpack.
A living backpack in the form of a blue girl entirely covered in what looked like tiny bee wings. She had an arm around Armo’s thick furry neck, her legs curled around his chest, and a pistol pressed hard against his head.
“I know you’re fast, Shade Darby,” this new apparition shouted, “but so are bullets.”
CHAPTER 18
Bug Fighters
SHADE FROZE. COULD she take the gun before the girl could squeeze the trigger?
Dekka’s folly was instantly clear to Shade. They’d come after a guy made of insects, and what did they have as a weapon? Dekka had cleverly brought all her forces into the fight, but her forces were powerless and in each other’s way.
And no one had anticipated some flying Na’vi with a nine-millimeter.
“I’m not going to let you kill him!” the blue girl said, her voice shrill.
“If he doesn’t back the hell off right now, we’ll bring this whole building down on him,” Dekka threatened.
That bold statement came out at molasses speed from Shade’s perspective, but it still surprised her. Dekka had quickly seen her error and shifted her threat. Bring this whole building down?
All right, Dekka!
“Do that and we all die,” the blue girl said, “including Berserker Bear!”
“Really?” Armo complained. “I gotta die under that name?”
