Groaning under his breath, the thickset man with greasy hair struggled upright on shaky legs. “Please, just arrest me already,” he whimpered, holding up both hands.

Ruban kicked him in the gut. “Not until you tell us what we want to know.”

With an aborted cry, the man crumpled to the ground. On the filthy, grease-stained garage floor, he writhed beside his red-haired companion, who’d lost consciousness some minutes ago.

“I-I can’t,” he sobbed, his large, stubby nose chafing against the grimy floor. “He’ll kill me.”

“Who?” Simani demanded, stepping out of the shadows near the back of the empty garage.

“Janak Nath.”

“And you think we won’t?” Ruban sank to one knee beside his quarry, pulling him up by his greasy hair. “Believe me, Jin. By the time we’re done with you, you’ll be begging us to kill you.”

“Why do you think we haven’t arrested the two of you already?” Simani leaned against a graffiti-covered wall, her gun pointed casually at Jin. “Because we can’t interrogate the prisoners in custody like this.”

“Not legally, no.” Ruban tightened his grip on Jin’s hair. “But you’re not our prisoners, are you? Nope. You’re just a couple of vile criminals, risking the lives of innocent civilians for personal gain.”

“A threat to society,” Simani agreed. “And hence, fair game.”

“W-why are you doing this?” Jin winced as Ruban pushed him up against a fractured wall. “I don’t know where Janak is h-hiding. None of us do. Only h-his inner circle. Please just–”

“Well, you must know something.” Simani nudged the red-haired gangster with a foot. He remained comatose. “He sends you instructions, does he not? About which areas to Hunt in; which Aeriels to target and when...”

“Y-yes, but–”

“Where do those instructions come from?” Ruban growled, inching closer to Jin. “Who brings them? How do you communicate with Janak when he’s not in Ragah?”

“I-I don’t…” He shook his head, breathing fast. “I can’t–”

“Jin, listen to me.” Simani crouched in front of the quailing man, her voice soft. “One of our colleagues was killed by Janak Nath. He was a dear friend. A week ago, your boss attacked our Quarters and murdered him.” She swept some loose strands of hair from her face. “So believe me when I say that we will stop at nothing to avenge him and bring his killers to justice.”

“If you won’t tell us where Janak is, someone else will,” Ruban said, digging the butt of his pistol into the other man’s throat. “You’re hardly the only one of Qawirsin’s henchmen to be found in this city. To us, it’ll just be a slight inconvenience…replaceing a replacement. To you, it could mean a world of unnecessary suffering. So think very carefully about what you want to say next, before you say it.”

Jin hesitated. A loud thud drew the Hunters’ attention away. The redheaded ruffian had leapt to his feet and was making a break for the exit.

A shot rang out. With a bloodcurdling scream, the fleeing gangster crumpled to the floor, his off-white trousers marred by a blood-stained bullet hole.

Jin tackled Ruban with a snarl. Simani brought the butt of her pistol forcefully down on the back of his head. Soon, both the thugs were on the floor, whimpering in pain.

Simani pulled Ruban back to his feet. “Nice shot.”

“Thanks,” he smirked, brushing grime off his clothes. “I was afraid I’d kill him.”

“Can’t say it’d have been much of a loss.” She pointed her gun at Jin even as Ruban pointed his at the redhead. “Now, who feels like talking?”

“I don’t know,” Jin wailed, curling into himself, his head clutched in both hands. “I don’t know where Janak is. None of us do. Only those in his inner circle can tell you about his exact location.”

“Give us an inexact one, then,” Ruban drawled. “We’ll start from there.”

“Kitenga Hills,” the redhead whimpered, clutching his wounded leg. “Close to the Zainian border. He recently sent some cargo over to Zaini. Some of his most trusted men went with the shipment, so he’s probably still in the vicinity. Please…” he sobbed, the words slurring slightly. “That’s all we know. Please, just let us go.”

“And how do we know you’re telling the truth?” Ruban asked. “That you’re not just saying this to get out of here alive.”

“We could ask Ashwin,” Simani said thoughtfully, her eyes trained on Jin. “His superiors in Zaini might know something, if the Qawirsin’s camped out near their borders. After all, they’re as eager to get rid of the mafia as we are. No reason why they shouldn’t share information with us.”

Ruban sucked in a breath, forcing the instinctive, vehement refusal back down his gullet. Involving Ashwin was not without its risks. But then, when was the last time they’d erred on the side of caution?

And while Ashwin may not have access to Zainian intelligence reports, he did have a pair of annoyingly obtrusive wings. He’d have an easier time locating the Qawirsin’s hideout in Kitenga than a team of Hunters.

Besides, there was Safaa’s spy network to consider. They might’ve given Ashwin information no human government was privy to. He wouldn’t reveal his sister’s secrets voluntarily, but if Ruban could use this expedition to force his hand…

“Look, I know you don’t want to get him involved in this mess,” Simani said coaxingly, before Ruban could formulate a response. “And believe me, if I could think of any alternatives, I wouldn’t suggest it. You’re not the only one who worries about him, you know.

“But we don’t really have a choice, do we? We can’t launch any sort of an attack without knowing the exact location of Janak’s hideout. If we fail, the Qawirsin will come after us again. And this time, if there’s another attack like the one at the Quarters, I doubt they’ll leave any survivors.”

Ruban nodded. “Yes, you’re right. We - ah - I’ll talk to Ashwin.”

Her eyes lit up. “So we’ll come over for dinner tomorrow, then. To discuss the logistics, I mean.”

“Just be honest about it, Sim.” Ruban paused in the process of handcuffing Jin to roll his eyes. “It’s not information you want from him. It’s food.”

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