A blur came out of nowhere, an impossible thing made of muzzle fire and fists and feet. The soldier fired and it went up into the sky and then he was gone. She looked and there were more soldiers bringing their guns around to shoot, the soldiers who’d meant to kill them. Their machine guns were firing but not at her, and they were dying, they were dying and she didn’t even understand it.

Something struck near her in the dirt and she looked up and there was another soldier pointing his rifle down at her and firing and somehow he’d missed but she was still going to die.

Then the metal pipe Lu Song held in his hands collided with the soldier’s helmet like a bat, rocking the man back. Somehow Lu Song was up above her, on his feet. He swung at the man again, the other way, clubbed him in the helmet again. Then the soldier got his rifle around, pointed at Lu Song.

Shots burst out.

The soldier fell to the ground. Lu Song stood there.

He turned.

Zhi Li followed his gaze.

And there was Yuguo, a look of amazement on his face, Qi’s pistol in his hand, smoke still rising from it.

And beyond him, there were two men in fatigues, standing over a dozen dead soldiers.

Two men with identical faces.

Bai came to a stop, the bodies falling around him and Liwei like toy soldiers. Blood was coming from his arm where he’d been hit. Liwei was cut across the shin.

They were both breathing hard. Sweat was cooling on their brows. He let the rest of the thoughts of his brothers wash over him.

The Army troops were pulling back. The Fist had killed hundreds in the last few minutes.

But not without cost.

Hong was dead. Liko was dead. Deming was dead. Donghai was dead. Minsheng was dead. Shirong was dead. Guotin was badly burned, lying on the ground, fighting the pain. Guozhi was gut-shot, repeatedly, bleeding, in need of urgent care. Others had cuts or trivial bullet wounds. And where was Chanming? Where was Aiguo? Where was Genghis? Hadn’t they deployed? There was a hole where their minds should be.

Dead, most likely.

“Who… who are you?”

Bai turned. He was still breathing hard. It was the student. The boy they’d identified as one of the leaders. A high-value target worth protecting. He was looking back and forth between Bai and Liwei.

Bai looked at Liwei, then looked back at the student. He was suddenly aware of phones around them, phones pointed at him, phones recording this.

“We’re brothers,” Bai said.

“Are you… are you with the Army?” the student asked.

Bai felt his breathing slow, finally catching up to the exertion of killing these soldiers before they could kill the protest leaders. He could see the actress watching now. And her partner, Lu Song.