Tempo

Cliff stalked along the sidewalk in the small Japanese town. The sun had been setting when they got here, but now it was as dark as night could be. He looked up and briefly admired the stars in the night sky before looking back to his immediate surroundings. He made his way back to the other side of town where he was supposed to meet Brooks.

The pastry shop might even be closed by the time he got there. Cliff looked at his watch and noted that it was just about six o’ clock. He didn’t step it out, though. Looking casual was still part of the facade, as he doubted the yakuza would let him go without a tail. But even as he walked and made the occasional glance around, he couldn’t see any telltale signs of someone keeping an eye on him. Maybe he was just being paranoid.

He kept walking the street until he found the pastry shop and looked inside. Sable was sitting at a small table with Brooks opposite her. Cliff felt a weight lifted from his shoulders as he walked in and took the seat next to her. Brooks hailed the owner and, with a bit of help, got Cliff a melon pan pastry. The cross hatched design and brown color looked appetizing. Sable coughed a bit and he realized he probably stunk to high Heaven from the cigarette smoke.

“Sorry. Things didn’t go entirely as planned,” he said.

“Do they ever?” Brooks asked, flashing a smile at Sable. Sable merely rolled her eyes in response.

“I tell ya, as a military man, I know they don’t.” Cliff told Brooks.

“Oh yeah? What unit were you with?”

“82nd Airborne.”

“Nice, man. I was in the Marines. Did a lot of work stateside.”

“Combat?”

“Nah, I was in intelligence. It’s how I landed this gig.”

“That makes sense.”

“You better shower when we get back. And wash your clothes.” Sable interjected.

“Yeah I know. I quit smoking after I got out but I needed to keep up the act.”

Sable huffed but not in an exaggerated way.

“You get the goods?” Brooks asked.

“There were six of ‘em. I got all their photos.”

“Great stuff, man. Were you followed?”

“I don’t think so. I wasn’t able to spot any tails on my way out.”

“Just as well, we shouldn’t stick around here long. Grab your melon bread and let’s git.”

Cliff stood with Sable and Brooks.

“You’re sitting in the back.” Sable said to Cliff.

While he tried to feel offended, Cliff took a bite of his melon pan and let the taste wash his annoyance away.

“Damn. That’s pretty good.” he said, going in for another bite.

The three of them filed out of the pastry shop after paying and headed around the corner. Brooks’ sedan was waiting for them: a sleek Lexus LS 400 with diplomatic plates.

“Why didn’t you pick us up from the airport in this?” Cliff asked as he got in.

“Because then everyone would know who you were really working for,” Brooks replied.

Cliff couldn’t argue with that logic. They got out onto the road and headed back towards Shizuoka. Cliff finished his melon pan by the time they got back. He handed over the film roll to Brooks and got out.

“We’ll page you for the next meeting tomorrow. Take some time to rest up while we get these photos developed and see if they’re any good.”

“Yeah yeah,” Cliff said dismissively.

Brooks pulled away and left him and Sable alone on the side of the street. They retired to the safehouse, though it seemed Ikumi was out on more errands at the moment. But they were both awake, and hungry. Sable decided to make some instant noodles but Cliff preferred the real thing. Sadly, Sable wasn’t looking to go out anytime soon. While she made them something to eat, he got a couple ramune bottles out of the fridge that Sable asked for.

“What is this stuff?”

“You’ll like it! It’s like pop.”

“Pop?”

Sable turned and looked at him with the most deadpan expression.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You guys call it soda.” she said to him.

“That’s what it is, isn’t it?”

“No.”

Cliff balked.

“You gotta be kidding me,” he said.

“Not at all. Let’s go. It’s almost done.”

Cliff took a seat and put one bottle at his end of the table and the other at Sable’s. He had shed his leather jacket when he came in and was wearing a nice grey button-up shirt. She sat opposite him, wearing a cardigan and enjoying the warmth.

“So what’s this deal with your coven, anyway?”

Sable looked up at him from blowing on her noodles.

“What do you mean?” she asked innocently.

“I mean, what do you know about them?”

“Not a whole lot…”

“I know I’m not hosting a confessional, but that doesn’t mean you can lie to me.”

Sable narrowed her eyes at Cliff.

“Susan said you were studying a lot of occult stuff. You must know something of their history, yeah?”

“I know that they were a coven that mainly operated in Salem, but they scattered during the Witch Trials. They went underground. Recruited only the most promising members. Taught a lot.”

“They did a lot of black magic in their day, too.” Cliff interjected.

“That’s true, but it was mostly against the persecution from the trials. Most abhorred the idea, but we can’t always agree on what to do about everything.”

Cliff took his noodles from Sable and got a pair of chopsticks to eat them with.

“Ain’t that the truth,” he said.

“You’re a soldier, yeah?”

“I was.”

“You should know how it is, then. To have men in your group that try to do things their own way.”

“I do.”

“It was the same with those covens. The Sisters of the Eclipse banished them from the practice, but you really can’t keep them from doing it without killing them. In the wake of the trials, not many were ready to start going after their own like that.”

“I can see that. So what about you, then?”

“I’m not going to do any of that black magic if I can help it. It’s too close to the Devil. I’m trying to protect and help people.”

“Sometimes you have to take a life to protect one, though.”

Sable thought about that for a moment and nodded.

“Yes, but every situation is different.” she replied.

“So then…your mother?”

“She left dad and I. Said she had a business trip. Never came back. I was sixteen at the time. She never wrote or called or anything. We still don’t know what happened.”

“You think the coven does?”

“I know they do. When I found out she was involved, I knew they’d have answers. I’ve chased it every day I could when I wasn’t studying at college.”

Cliff didn’t say anything and dug into his noodles to have an excuse not to.

“I’m just trying to find out what happened to her. I don’t care what her reason was, I just want to know what it is.”

Cliff swallowed a bite and washed it down with some ramune.

“You think she’s still alive?” he asked.

“I hope so. It would be nice to see her again.”

Cliff let the silence hang in the air between them for a bit before speaking again.

“I’ll pray for you both, then.”

Sable looked at him and nodded slightly.

“So then…how much of a witch are you?” Cliff asked.

“Excuse me?” Sable replied, very befuddled.

“Magic, Sable. Can you do any magic?”

“Well…I haven’t really tried. It’s a bit difficult to get into if you’re new to it. You need to have a family member who passes down their abilities to you. After a while, you’re supposed to start working on them, but mom never taught me how. So I tried to get help from the coven, but that was only this past summer.”

“Why are you lying again?”

Sable looked genuinely hurt, but Cliff wasn’t buying it.

“You wouldn’t be here if the coven didn’t see something in you and what you could do.”

“Oh yeah? Well, what about you!” Sable shot back.

“I had to assist in a couple exorcisms in the New England region. Turns out I’ve got a knack for it.”

“Well…I…”

“Well, what? Can you do magic or not?”

“I can, but it’s difficult. It takes energy out of you so if you use too much you could pass out or even die if you use it all at once. I keep a pentacle necklace and a protection bracelet and some other things on me to help focus my magic.”

“So…what can you do?”

“I mainly learned how to heal, since I want to help people. But that takes the most energy.”

“It’s always harder to heal than it is to hurt.”

Sable looked down at her noodles and lingered on those words. He said them so drearily that she suspected he was speaking from his military experience.

“I don’t really want to hurt anyone.” she said.

“Neither do I…” he replied.

There was a tense silence between the two of them for a short time.

“We’re going to have to hurt people here, aren’t we?” Sable asked solemnly.

“If we don’t, even more people will get hurt.” Cliff answered with conviction in his tone. “It’s not up to us to make people act a certain way, but we can help protect those who can’t always protect themselves. That’s what this is about.”

Sable sighed and shivered in her seat. “I suppose you’re right. I’m just…not sure I can willingly hurt someone else.”

“You’d be surprised what you’re capable of, given the right circumstances.”

“Maybe…”

Cliff sighed. “Sorry…I just…”

“No, it’s okay.” Sable said. “You lived a different life than me. You’d know better about it than I would.”

“Yeah, for all the good it’s done me.”

“We’ll do some good for us, then.” Sable said with a nod.

Cliff cracked a wry smile at her. “Yeah. Yeah we’ll make sure this is done right.”

The two of them clinked their ramune bottles together.

Elsewhere…

The rattling of chains preceded him. As he was shuffled down the hall, the light of lanterns marked his path. The tatami floor mats muffled his bare feet as he stepped into the room. His unkempt hair and long beard made him look crazed, but it wasn’t like that look in his eyes was helping his case either. A few men in suits were sitting opposite of him as two others flanked each side. They stayed by the door as the shackled man stepped into the room. They spoke in Japanese.

"Takahiro Kagame."

The man looked up and smiled as he heard his name called. "Yes…I am here." He said.

"You were Japan’s most wanted criminal of the 1970’s. A man who played with magic far darker than anyone could’ve hoped to touch in a lifetime."

The man giggled. Decades of solitary confinement made him happy to finally have someone else to talk to. "Yessss…I was given a gift. A gift of great understanding."

"We see that now. We would like you to use that gift again. As your new benefactors for your continued freedom, you will assist us. Is that clear?"

"Yes…yes, I will help."

"Very good. Take him away. Have the ritual prepared to release the shackles and make sure he gets cleaned up."

The two men bowed and took him from the room. The man’s laughter haunted the halls the whole way. One of the other men spoke up in English.

“Are you sure about this, Reijiro? He doesn’t look like the most stable individual.”

Reijiro, the man between two others, was a highly respected boss in the family. He turned to the man who spoke up, an Englishman by the name of Philip Henderson.

“You are guests here, don’t forget that. We will do things our way, as we know how things work here. If you hadn’t been so sloppy, the Americans wouldn’t have found you in the first place.”

Philip sat there and simmered under his head of blonde hair that was slicked back. Reijiro was heavier set than he was, and had a rough face. The man’s short cut black hair framed a scowl that made any other words of rebellion die in his throat. It was true, the family was taking the heat and the financial burden of their plan. But the Americans and the Japanese were still hunting for them, and the longer they took the closer they got to being exposed.

“Very well, Mr. Murakami. We will await Mr. Kagame’s release and go from there. Is the sacrifice ready?”

“We have it in hand. Rest easy. You will get your wish.”

Philip stood and bowed. “I’m turning in for the night. Good evening, gentlemen.”

Reijiro watched Philip leave and then turned to the man on the other side of him. His trusted lieutenant, Matsuo Oyama, spoke to him in Japanese.

"What do we know of the Americans?"

"Not much, but we did finally get an eye on who they are. One of the boys brought these the other day."

Matsuo placed a couple photographs into Reijiro’s hand. He brought them up to observe them in detail. A man and a woman, both dark-haired. The man looked rough and the woman looked alert.

"Do we have anything else?”

"Nothing much. I’ll tell the men to look out for them. Our contact will get us more information."

"Very well. I want this handled delicately and efficiently. There’s no telling who these Americans are working for. We need to be careful."

"Of course."

Matsuo stood, bowed, and left. Reijiro took another look down at the photos before he took them and also left the room.