“Good. Now, since you’re the only one who can get that crew of yours to do anything in a co-ordinated fashion, why don’t you go and sort them out. There are still bodies at the brothel end with stacks intact, I saw them on my way through. There may even be living witnesses hiding down there for all I know. I want a final sweep, no one left alive, and I want every stack melted to slag.” Murakami gestured disgustedly. “Jesus fuck, they’re pirates, you’d think they could manage that. Instead of which, most of them are playing at setting the panthers loose and using them for target practice. Just listen to it.”

The blasterfire was still in the air, long, undisciplined bursts laced with excited shouting and laughter. Mallory shrugged.

“So where’s Tomaselli?”

“Still setting up the gear with Liebeck. And Wang’s waiting for you on the bridge, trying to make sure no one gets eaten by accident. It’s your boat, Vlad. Go get them to stop racking about, and when they’ve finished the sweep, bring Impaler round to this side for loading.”

“Alright.” Like a ripple over water, Mallory adopted the Vlad persona and started to pick twitchily at his acne scars. He nodded down at me. “See you soon as I see you, eh, Kovacs. Soon as.”

I watched him to the corner of the station wall and round it, out of sight.

Flicked my gaze back to Murakami, who was still staring away towards the sounds of the post-op merriment.

“Fucking amateurs,” he muttered, and shook his head.

“So,” I said bleakly. “You’re deployed after all.”

“Got it in one.” As he spoke, Murakami crouched and hauled me up into an ungainly sitting position with a grunt. “Don’t hold it against me, huh? Not like I could have told you last night and appealed to your sense of nostalgia for help, is it?”

I looked around from my new vantage point and saw Virginia Vidaura, slumped against a mooring post, arms bound back. There was a long darkening bruise across her face, and her eye had swollen. She looked dully at me, and then away. There were tears smeared in the dirt and sweat on her face. No sign of Sylvie Oshima’s sleeve, dead or alive.

“So instead you played me for a sucker.”

He shrugged. “Work with the tools to hand, you know.”

“How many of you are there? Not the whole crew, apparently.”

“No,” he smiled faintly. “Just five. Mallory there, Liebeck, who I understand you’ve met, sort of. Two others, Tomaselli and Wang, and me.”

I nodded. “Covert deployment strength. I should have known there was no way you’d be just hanging around Millsport on furlough. How long have you been on the ground?”