76

Chinatown, San Francisco

Every one of Lu’s computer workers responded to the takedown like they’d rehearsed for it. Two women and two men ran outside the room. A fifth followed to the doorway, locking the door behind them, sliding a second door made of soldered iron bars over that, and then locking it as well.

“People who run out? They stalling for you.” Lu patted Salem’s bottom and pointed toward the opposite wall. “You go out window.”

“What?”

Lu nodded, smiling. “Don’t worry. Fire escape out there. SFPD come up through living room. Maybe also on roof, so you be small. Blend in.”

“Why is SFPD here?” Bel was following Lu to the window.

Lu shrugged. “Slow day. Sometimes, they just want to come check on us.” She pointed at the five workers still on their computers, each of them leaning to work two computers simultaneously. “We only need seven minutes to hide everything. They find nothing but digital mahjong club, no gambling, when they get here!” Her laugh was punctuated by the screech of Bel forcing open the window.

A flood of cool air and the refreshed smell of baking cookies flowed in. The discordant Chinese music below was almost too loud to be heard over. “A parade! You so lucky,” Lu said, exaggerating her accent. “Like the fortune cookie. Now go.”

She stepped aside and shoved Bel out onto the fire escape. Bel scanned the perimeter, assessing the situation, before offering her hands to Salem.

“My damn gun is back in the room,” Bel muttered. “I almost don’t deserve one.”

Salem stepped onto the fire escape, too scared to respond to that. “Is this a good idea?”

They were perched a story above the sidewalk, floating over a group of boys who waved red ribbons and wore red and gold kimonos. Salem’s eyes followed the long, looping dragon behind the boys, four men wide and at least fifty feet long. Sparklers glittered and popped inside its nostrils, and ornately dressed soldiers flanking the dragon set off small fireworks that erupted green and blue in the sky. These were met with cheers from the throngs on the crowded sidewalks. The setting sun added to the visual cacophony, raspberry dusk blending with caramel celebration.

“I don’t even know what a good idea looks like anymore,” Bel said, shoving on the fire escape’s rusty metal ladder to release it to street level. It wouldn’t give. She kicked at it. It yelled back at her and moved an inch. “Help me!”

Salem began kicking the ladder along with Bel. A few of the parade children glanced up as heavy rust flakes rained down on them. From inside the apartment, violent knocking sounded on the other side of the caged door. The noise was muffled by the volume of the parade, but Salem still heard it.

“SFPD, we know you’re in there! Open the door or we’ll break it down.”

“Hurry,” Salem begged.

Bel knelt so she could put her shoulder to the ladder. Salem did the same. They pushed until sweat broke out on their foreheads, but it wasn’t budging. The dead drop was at least 20 feet.

“Get help!” Bel said.

Salem stood and turned back to the window. Lu was now seated at a computer station, all the workers typing so fast that their fingers nearly disappeared.

Suddenly, the wood of the door splintered, revealing the head of an ax.

“They’re breaking down the door!”

Bel stood and stared over the side of the fire escape. “God help us, I hope we don’t weigh too much.”

“What?” Salem was frantic.

Bel pointed below. The parade dragon was just weaving its way under the fire escape. Salem could make out the forms of people below the rich, brocaded material of the beast. They seemed to be holding the dragon’s body over their head like a blanket.

“We can’t jump on them!”

The ax swung against the door again, this time sending a foot-long splinter of wood halfway across the room.

“It’ll be like the parachute game in school,” Bel said, leading Salem to the edge of the fire escape. “Remember? We’d all hold the edge of a parachute, and someone would roll into the middle, and we’d toss them in the air like popcorn. Their weight would be spread out. Easy peasy.”

“But we didn’t jump on each other’s heads!”

The ax slammed through the door a third time, ripping the knob free. The wooden door opened. A masked man in all black knelt to begin work immediately on the iron bars, the only barrier between him and the computer room.

It was either stay, get arrested, and lose any chance at saving Grace or Vida; jump 20 feet to a sidewalk and crack their ankle bones like toothpicks; or aim for a soft spot on the back of a parade dragon.

Salem didn’t give herself time to think. She let Bel grab her hand, they both hoisted their legs over the iron side of the fire escape, and they tipped forward. They fell through music, firecracker smoke, the strident song of the parade actors, and their own yelling.

Thump.

Thump.

Salem landed first, her heart and stomach still back on the fire escape. Bel followed immediately. If they’d thought it over, they’d have spread out their weight more, but the people underneath held them as firmly as a palanquin.

“Are you okay?”

Salem nodded. The dragon’s back was a thick felt. It smelled like mothballs. Underneath her, hands adjusted, and what sounded like swearing in Chinese assaulted her ears. She didn’t blame them one bit.

The dragon carried them down the street, jostling them above the crowd. The noise was even louder at street level, people yelling and pointing at them, music pounding, colors swirling, the sizzle of sparklers threatening them from every angle.

Bel glanced above toward the fire escape they’d just flown from, raising her voice to be heard. “The SWAT hasn’t made it outside yet. I hope Lu had time to hide what she needed to hide.”

But Salem didn’t hear her.

Her eyes were drawn somewhere else—across the street, beneath the blue awning of Powell Grocery, and into the bemused stare of Agent Lucan Stone.