The blow rocked the man to the side, sent a spiderweb of cracks out through his visor, knocked him off balance. Feng swung back at the man’s knees, lighting fast, swept the soldier’s feet out from under him. For an instant Kade saw the man suspended in midair, hanging there supine, his feet off the ground, caught frozen in the midst of his backwards topple, immobile in Feng’s accelerated perceptions.

Then time resumed. The man crashed to the floor, flat on his back, his gun firing, muzzle flare erupting from it, bullets spraying into the ceiling, their paths zipping rays of red light in Feng’s battle vision.

Then Feng was on one knee, the pipe driven into the man’s throat and embedded into the floor beyond like a spear, blood fountaining everywhere.

Feng rolled as he finished the blow, taking the man’s submachine gun with him. The other troopers were yelling now, turning. One opened fire as Feng rolled behind the bar.

The other two turned as well. All three fired into the bar. Kade picked one, clicked to designate him as a target, and jammed on the full attack button.

Bruce Lee hurled Kade’s body into a flying kick, weak and off-balance from the gas. The bounty hunter turned and smacked Kade out of the air. The blow sent him reeling.

[Bruce_Lee: Attack Failed L]

Then the man had Kade by the arm, was dragging him towards the armored jeep, shoving him in the open door.

Then there was static, everywhere, spheres of static, Nexus static.

And the head of the bounty hunter who had him exploded.

Nakamura milled through the club called Mango, his backpacker costume in place, upgraded slightly for a Saturday night. Nexus was everywhere here. This was the kind of place Lane would feel at home in. If he’d let his guard down sufficiently…

[Shots fired, 819 Bùi Viện Street]

The alert was pulled from the Vietnamese People’s Police network. That address was at the other end of the Bến Thành district. Another club with a concentration of Nexus.

Nakamura turned and pushed his way against the crowd, swam like a fish against the current, until he was through the doors and out into the night. His jeep was back at his apartment, impractical in the maze of streets here. The club where the alert had come from was just over a mile away. Nakamura broke into a run. He’d be there in three minutes.

Shiva watched the feeds as his soldiers stormed the building, took down the two remaining bounty hunters. The club was a shambles. One wall had been destroyed, the windows blown out. Revelers were strewn about, many injured, some bleeding or broken or dead from the impact of the jeep or the crossfire of bullets. The rest were unconscious.

“There,” he said and tapped on the screen. “Lane.”

Hayes nodded, and the medic rushed forward.