Page 23 of No Time Off

“Fellow citizens,” she declared in English with a clipped Kiwi accent. “I know I’m new in my post, but I have been appointed to bring change. We must not allow our islands to be swallowed by foreign interests. We should preserve our heritage, our way of life, and our sovereignty.”

A roar of support went up from the crowd.

“Gee, I wonder which foreign interest she’s referring to,” I said to Slash.

He lifted an eyebrow. “I think that police station and those thugs back there speak for themselves.”

“No kidding.”

“You’re wrong,” a person yelled from the crowd. “They’ve helped both the economy and our defense. You don’t understand.”

Boos went up from several in the crowd, and a small scuffle started in the vicinity of the person who’d expressed an opposing view.

The woman on the platform tried to regain order. “Please, this is a safe space where we can honestly and transparently discuss our issues.”

“Then do something about the damn Chinese or get out of our way,” another voice yelled from the crowd.

I turned worriedly to Slash. “That doesn’t sound good.”

He nodded grimly. “Apparently, it’s become more of a problem than I expected. Luckily, it’s not ours. Let’s go.” He kept us moving around the periphery of the crowd as the atmosphere grew more tense.

A group of men in sunglasses and uniforms, different from the Chinese, standing at the edge of the crowd, caught my attention. They were watching the woman on the podium intently, their expressions unreadable.

I nudged Slash. “Look over there. You think it’s her security?”

“Probably the local police. They’re here to make sure this doesn’t turn into a disturbance.”

“I wonder who the woman is?”

“A politician, most likely.”

Slash stopped abruptly, and I bumped into the back of him. “What’s wrong?”

I followed his gaze and noticed a man moving through the crowd toward the stage with deliberate intent. He had dark hair tied back in a knot and a large, spiked fish tattooed on his neck. His hand was stuffed in the pocket of his billowy shirt, and when it shifted it a bit, I glimpsed the outline of a gun.

I opened my mouth to say something when Slash released my hand. “Stay here.”

He immediately started pushing through the crowd. I watched as he closed in on the jacketed man, who was now only a few feet from the stage.

The man withdrew his hand from beneath his jacket. He had the gun, and as he began to lift it, his gaze fixed firmly on the woman.

“Gun!” I shouted.

Slash was way ahead of me. He lunged at the last second, grabbing the man’s wrist and twisting it sharply just as the gun went off, the bullet hitting a corner of the stage. The gun fell to the ground with a thud as screams rose from the crowd and people scattered in panic. Almost simultaneously, the police I’d noticed earlier moved in, tackling Slash and the would-be assailant.

I lost sight of Slash as I tried to avoid being trampled. In the melee, I glanced up at the stage. The woman was clearly shaken and was flanked by a man in a dark suit and a policeman, who was speaking into a radio. Her eyes were wide with shock. The rest of the police swiftly secured the area, and the crowd began to disperse, murmuring anxiously. After a minute, I started making my way to where I’d last seen Slash.

I spotted his dark hair and saw that he was talking to a couple of police officers. The would-be assassin with the fish tattoo had been cuffed and was being dragged away by the local police. Several Chinese police officers had now joined the fray and were clearing the square. I had to avoid two of them as I ran toward Slash.

“Slash,” I called out when I got closer. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Slash said as I ran up beside him. “They’re just asking me some questions.”

“Why are you cuffed?” I asked in outrage. “What’s going on?”

“They’re just sorting things out.”

A burly man with an earpiece and his pistol out stepped between us. “Who are you?”

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