“Haidou dangzyu ngo,” she said.
“What’s going on? You’re putting me in a jail cell full of guns!” Malmquist said, grabbing her by the arm.
“Ng.” She pulled away.
“Wing-yee, please don’t leave me.”
She was already gone. The cell’s bright lighting dimmed and all that remained was the dull glare of a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. It was a basement. Industrial steel shelving housed a comprehensive gun collection and stacks of ammunition. Dug out of one wall was a hole big enough for a person to go through. Malmquist went up the basement stairs and placed his ear against the door at the top. Fragments of a conversation were audible.
“….What’s bandage head’s name again? Heard he’s in the area….”
“….Set the sick fuck on fire….no trace….blow him away.”
“….Lemme get the….”
One of the voices grew louder and closer. “What’s he got to do with it, rectum face?”
“I didn’t mean that.”
“You stupid cum-eating dumster mouth feedbag fucktard!”
The door opened. From behind the stairway where he had hidden himself just in time, Malmquist could see someone’s legs trotting down through the steps. They stopped halfway, then headed back up.