Chapter Text
He did not recognize her. Okoye would have wept except she had shed all the tears she had for him three years ago. Instead, she pushed all those feelings into rage, into speed, into strength. The one with the lionfish headdress, who must have been another general, headed towards her. Attuma led a handful of warriors towards Riri and Shuri.
She knew about their strength. She knew about their healing abilities. She also knew the weak points of their rebreathers.
She needed heat and she needed speed. Okoye scratched her spearpoint against the asphalt. Sparks arced out. Several caught the petrol trail spilling from her upended vehicle. The low blue-white flame would not bar the Talokanil from the princess and the scientist but it was still useful, Okoye slashed her top, wrapped the cloth on the butt of her spear and dipped it in the petrol. She cracked the contents of her flare cubes onto the wet cloth. She held it all over the flame.
Her spear whooshed into a torch.
Talokanil were strong. They were fast. They knew they had an advantage over surface-dwellers. That was the weakness Okoye intended to exploit. She ran into the line of warriors sent by the lionfish general. Surprised, they paused for a second. Okoye smashed the torch end of her spear into the face of the first warrior, shattering the nosepiece of her rebreather. Deploying her wrist daggers, she pierced the membranes of her neck rebreathers, cut through her gills and slashed her jugular.
She swung around, bent low to slash at the legs of the next warrior. The same swing would have cut an oncoming warrior but he blocked it with his spear. So she punched him in the throat. It did not actually take his breath away. Okoye wrenched his gill-rebreathers off instead then clawed the tender flesh between them. He fell, screaming. She sliced him from navel to neck and touched her torch to his face for good measure.
The warrior with the wounded legs staggered back to upright. He attacked head on with his spear. She blocked it. She swung her spear in a circle again. The flames grew larger, sucking oxygen. She rammed her spear into the warrior’s knee. He reached into a net-pouch at his waist for a blue hexagonal ball. At the same time, Okoye saw the three others with Attuma heading for the princess. She did not know what the blue hexagons did and she did not have time to find out. She could not let Attuma get away with Shuri. Okoye faked a jab at the warrior’s left but instead cut at the pouch with her wrist dagger. One of the balls fell.
Water exploded.
Okoye only had enough time to take a quick gasp of air before she found herself flying-- floating?-- through the air in the wake of the water explosion. By the blessings of Bast, she had been thrown in the proper direction. Attuma and his two warriors stood before her. She tucked her body into a ball, gripping her spear across her knees.
The wave deposited her right behind Attuma. She rolled and jabbed upward as soon as her feet touched the road. Attuma kicked her spear aside. The force of it reverberated up to her shoulders. Instead of going for her spear, Okoye clung onto Atumma’s leg. She still had her wrist dagger. She slashed it across the inside of his left thigh. His femoral artery spurted blood. He refused to fall. Grabbing her by the neck, he started to fling her away but again, Okoye surprised him by hanging on. She locked both legs around his arm. He squeezed her throat, bending her dzilla, threatening to cut off her air and circulation. She kicked out with one foot. It was not enough to smash the rebreather on his gills.
Fortunately, Okoye permitted Shuri to add boot blades to her uniform as well. She clicked them on. She placed the tiny vibranium knife across his cheek, slicing flesh, the vibranium frame of the rebreather, and the membrane holding seawater for him to breathe. The water sloshed to the road, joining the bright red arterial blood congealing on the tarmac.
"I call on the Maya Law of Battle," Okoye gasped in Maya, hoping she had the tones correct. "I have spilled the blood of a nacom. If you turn away, I will defeat you and you will be sacrificed before all of Wakanda. Hear me or have your dishonour known."
Attuma stared at her. His frown deepened behind his shattered rebreather. Slowly, he put her down on the ground.
The lionfish general glared. "Who are you to call on the laws of Talokan?"
"Someone who knows them well enough," said Okoye. She tried not to cough even though her throat burned. "Ignore me if you wish but you and the gods will know the truth. Will you dare anger them? After everything that has happened?"
The lionfish general started to advance but Attuma held out a hand. "She knows the law."
"It does not apply to surface dwellers."
"I am not a surface dweller," said Attuma. "It was my blood drawn. Speak, Wakandan."
"Your king approached our queen and gave her a week to find this scientist. We found her in less time than K'uk'ulkan deemed necessary. Give us those remaining days to bring the scientist back to our country and create a true alliance between Wakanda and Talokan. Not this shameful broken promise as the Conquistadores do."
"You dare compare us to those monsters!" Lionfish snarled, knees braced to attack.
Okoye braced her spear. But once again Attuma held the other back. "Stand down, Namora."
"We were given orders," she said.
"What do you give us to ensure you keep your promise, Wakandan?" asked Attuma.
"I am Okoye, daughter of Gbohunmi, Head of Security of Wakanda. That makes me commander of all Wakanda's military, equal to the general of the Dora Milaje, second only to the queen herself. I will give you my blood promise that Wakanda will negotiate an alliance that will be fruitful to both our nations. If this is not so, I will give myself to you as sacrifice."
Namora and Attuma exchanged a look that Okoye understood very well. She and Ayo would often have such silent conversations. They were a team. She gripped her spear. Behind her, Shuri began to stir.
"I accept your blood and your negotiation, Okoye, daughter of Gbohunmi," said Attuma. He drew out an obsidian blade from his belt and held it out to Okoye.
Okoye received it with both hands flat. It was short, not more than six inches long, and very narrow, almost like a large needle. He probably used it to cut himself for his personal rituals. She held her medical bead over it, and gave it several passes of the disinfecting beam.
"What is that?" Namora asked.
"I am cleaning the blade," said Okoye. "I will not make this bargain only to die of infection. Bast only knows where this has been. I am not cutting myself with something that has jabbed your genitals."
In the end, she went with the vein in the crook of her left elbow, visible and causing minimal damage. She disinfected the area with the kimoyo and poked. Her blood flowed easily into the grooved obsidian blade. Just as it dripped off the end, she pulled the blade out and offered it back to Attuma, bending her elbow to staunch the cut.
"I will see you by the end of the week," said Okoye. "Any more attacks on Wakanda or its people, and you will see how paltry your numbers are compared to our wrath."
Attuma curved the fingers of his hands, pointing one up towards the sky and the other down to the sea. "Until then, Commander Okoye, daughter of Gbohunmi."
She watched, one arm crooked, the other holding her spear in ready position, until they all boarded their whales and the waters of the Chicago River stilled again. She called their Talon Flyer to the bridge as soon as she was certain the Talokanil had left, all but dragging the princess and the American into the plane. She needed to get back to Wakanda immediately. She needed to speak with the queen.
Okoye paced as she waited in the queen's private office. Her kimoyo blinked every few seconds, alerting her to Ife's location and vitals. Right now, she hadn't moved from her mat in the daycare, presumably too engrossed in colouring and snacking. Okoye allowed herself a deep, shaky breath. Her daughter was all right. Everything was going to be all right.
The door hissed open to Queen Ramonda and Princess Shuri's identical short-gaited march. The queen, as always, kept her expression implacable. The princess wore her every emotion, her puzzlement and agitation as obvious as the healing bruises on her face.
"GRIOT, enclose my office in a privacy bubble, Security Level 4," said the queen. "Include Princess Shuri, Commander Okoye, and myself."
"At once, your Majesty. Shall I also pause any kimoyo recordings?"
"Yes please, GRIOT."
"No," said Okoye, "We may need it later for planning. GRIOT, record the conversation for now then erase the original once we formulate a plan."
"Plan? Plan for what? What is going on?" Shuri demanded.
Ramonda dipped her head at Okoye. "This is your story. As my heir, Shuri must know should anything go wrong, but the details are up to you."
"Go wrong?" Shuri grabbed the queen's arm. "Mother, what are you talking about?"
Okoye wished she still had her spear. It would have given her something to hold, something to ground herself with for this conversation. She had hoped to avoid this conversation forever. Realistically, at least she had four years.
"I saw Ife's father at the bridge in America," she told Shuri.
"Her fath– was he CIA?"
"No. Not CIA."
Shuri's eyes widened. "Yooooooo!"
Ramonda looked to the heavens. "Shuri."
Okoye shook her head. "I do not even know where to start."
"We can start with our original plan," said Ramonda. She laid a hand on Okoye's arm and it was all the commander could do to keep her tears at bay. "Stories and self-recriminations can wait until you are ready."
Okoye nodded, her throat tight. She told herself it was leftover bruising from the fight on the bridge. To GRIOT, she said, "Bring up File: Imvubu Dam, Security Level 4." As GRIOT populated the screens with the file, Okoye began to narrate, "This is what we know about the Talokanil."