Ep 38 - Skeleton in the Closet

The new school year began quietly. We studied twice as hard — for classes and for our NSA exams. Lang kept her word: no operations until we passed. And when we finally did, she didn’t throw us straight back into Fang-style chaos. Instead, we started slow. She divided us into small teams, paired with senior agents, assisting Baltimore PD, Metro PD, NCIS, even the FBI. At first, we thought she was keeping us on a leash. But we were so wrong. Those missions humbled us. We walked in confident and came back drenched, wiser, and painfully aware of how much we still had to learn. Lang wasn’t holding us back; she was building us up.

Months passed. We got used to the rhythm. Half students, half agents-in-training. Maya and Talia graduated first. Lang offered them full-time positions right away: Talia joined the tech division, Maya the field team. For the first time, it felt like we had a future. Stable. Secure. Maybe even normal. So secure, we almost forgot about the one skeleton still hiding in our closet. But that was about to change.

We’ve continued the rotation around the agencies. Aiko, Amelie and I are now with NCIS. Two dead marines have been brought to the morgue for autopsy. Nothing out of the ordinary, until the doctor called us to him.

“Preliminary examination’s done,” the doctor said. “You said they were beaten to death?”

“That’s right,” Franklin replied. “Witnesses say they tried to stop a robbery.”

“And no weapon was recovered?

“Not that I’ve heard. Why?”

The doctor pointed at the screen. “Look here, Tobias. The ribs are pulverized. Shattered inwards like porcelain. You don’t get that from bare fists. Too focused, too deep. Whatever hit them was small but devastating. Like a hammer blow.”

Amelie grimaced. “Those ribs look like a jigsaw puzzle.”

“Exactly, Miss Vogt,” the doctor said. “Someone used something… different.”

“Where were they found?” Michelle asked.

“Chiba, Japan,” Franklin said. “Off-duty leave. Local police still have jurisdiction over the evidence.”

Chiba? Oh, no… Michelle's stomach dropped. “Do we have any footage?”

“Japanese PD isn’t eager to share,” Franklin said. “Jurisdiction headaches.”

“Then we’ll ask politely.” She stepped aside, pulled out her phone and dialed.

“Professor Kanzaki? Michelle Williams here.

Yes, I’m fine. Listen, could I ask a favor?

Your nephew’s still with the police, right?

We’ve got two dead marines here. Location and time match your area. Any chance you could get street-cam footage?

What kind? … Let’s say the pattern looks... familiar.

Yes, it could be her.

Thank you, Professor. You’re a lifesaver.”

She ended the call. Amelie and Aiko exchanged a look; Michelle’s expression had gone cold.

“You think…?” Aiko asked.

“I hope I’m wrong. But if I’m not, we just found our missing patient zero.”

One hour later. Grainy footage flickered across a security monitor. The image stuttered, skipped frames and struggled to keep up. A man launched through a wall; a blurred female outline half-visible between glitches. The silhouette moved with terrifying precision, compact stance, single devastating strike, then gone.

Franklin stood with his arms crossed, eyes fixed on the screen.

“You don’t look surprised,” he said. “You know something.”

Michelle didn’t look away from the footage. “Just a suspicion. A strong one. Her name’s Yuno Toyama. A ghost from the past. One we completely forgot about.”

The silence that followed was heavy. “I need to talk to Director Lang. Urgently.“

The monitor in MTAC switched to a secure video call. Lang’s face appeared, irritated and mid-chew.

“Junior Agent Williams, what’s the emergency? I was in the middle of lunch.”

“My apologies, Director,” Michelle said. “But you need to see this.”

Lang glanced at the footage, unimpressed.

“Looks like a street brawl. Doesn’t look interesting at all.”

“Please look closer,” Michelle said evenly. “The two guys are marines and they got manhandled by a girl. Both are downstairs on autopsy tables. And THAT took place in Japan. Here is the x-ray of one of the victims. Look at the ribcage.”

Lang’s expression hardened. “Outsch. And you think it’s your patient zero?”

“I’m not sure,” Michelle answered. “But such devastation from one punch… A regular human isn't able to do that.”

Lang leaned back. “Regardless of whether that is or isn't her, we need to investigate this more closely. In her case we can't take any chances. We have to be sure. Junior agent Williams, summon the other Fangs. You have a new assignment.”

“One question,” Michelle said. “When we find her, what should we do with her? I don’t think it will be possible to just simply arrest her.”

“You’ll decide according to the situation,” Lang replied. “I value your skills and your judgment. This matter will be in good hands.”

Franklin stepped forward. “Now hold on. Those two bodies are marines. This falls under our jurisdiction.”

“I understand, special agent Franklin,” Lang said calmly. “Go with them, if you want. But those girls are the most qualified to take care of this problem. I know you are a seasoned veteran, but this isn’t something you can deal with on your own.”

“You can’t be serious!”

“I am very serious. The girls are leaving tonight. You can either join them or get in their way. And I don’t recommend the latter.”

Michelle inclined her head. “Thank you, Director.”

The call ended.

***

Later that afternoon Michelle gathered all Fangs in the orphanage's briefing room. For a heartbeat everyone sat frozen — the kind of silence that’s heavy with old ghosts.

“We leave tonight,” Michelle said at last, her voice quiet but steady. “Pack light. Bring everything you’d need to take down an angry elephant.”

Trella didn’t blink. “What elephant?”

“Not sure yet,” Michelle said. “Two dead marines in Japan. Ribs shattered like tile. Grainy footage shows a girl. Detective Kanzaki pulled a camera feed for us. I hope I’m wrong, but it looks like it’s Yuno.”

A ripple passed through the group. Faces shifted: denial, focus, old pain flashing behind practiced calm.

“She finally decided to come back and say hello,” Aya said, smiling hard.

“How curious,” Anya murmured, tilting her head.

“We’ll need a full kit,” Milena said, already thinking ahead. “Non-lethal packages too. If we can contain instead of kill, we should. But we prepare for the worst.”

“I’ll bring sedatives and stimulants,” Liza added, methodical as always. “If she’s like the others, standard meds won’t work. We need to be ready.”

“I’ll review the autopsy notes,” Milena said more quietly. “See what the NCIS doc noticed beyond the obvious.”

“We don’t do anything reckless,” Trella said. “We capture her if possible. Kill only as a last resort.”

Michelle nodded. The room tightened like a fist.

The armory nook was filled with controlled motion. Boots snapped into place. Suppressed pistols were checked and holstered. Knives, sedative darts, comm tokens, waterproof evidence bags — everything laid out and packed with clinical efficiency. This wasn’t their first mission. But this one was personal.

Michelle handed Trella a slim folder. “Here. Professor Kanzaki’s notes, the footage, the X-rays. Read it on the flight. Rules of engagement: Lang’s in charge. We follow her orders. Our liaison to foreign agencies is Kanzaki, and NCIS will have their people with us. We operate joint, but we take the lead.”

“Understood.”

***

Late in the night a black transfer jet waited under warm floodlights. Lang’s insignia sat on manifest folders. Special Agent Franklin stood by in a suit, arms crossed. Michelle stepped up with her team in tow — a dozen young faces hardened and focused.

“I still think this is NCIS turf,” he said to Michelle.

“We know. Lang agreed you can tag along. But if it’s what I think, it’s smaller than turf. It’s personal. We have a history with that girl.”

Franklin studied Michelle for a long second. The authority of a director’s direct order and the stubborn weight of youth combined. “Fine. You lead, but we operate on a level field. No stunts.”

Michelle nodded. “No stunts.”

Lang’s voice arrived in Michelle’s earpiece — calm, clipped, unyielding.

“You’re good to go. I want secure channels open throughout. Professor Kanzaki will be waiting for you. Remember — intelligence first, blows second. Don’t go looking for a fight. Bring her back if you can.”

“Understood, Director.”

***

The private jet cut through the night, its cabin filled with the low, steady drone of engines. The girls were spread out with laptops, files, and headsets. Some slept. Some memorized footage frame by frame. Some stared out at the dark below, watching cities roll beneath like sleeping beasts. Trella studied Kanzaki’s annotated image, finger tracing a silhouette. Mei-Ling overlaid autopsy notes with the X-ray Michelle sent. Aya drilled breathing exercises with tension.

Amelie leaned closer to Michelle, her voice low. “You’re pushing this down the throat of the night like a bitter pill.”

“We forgot about her once,” Michelle replied without hesitation. “I won’t let that happen again.”

Amelie watched Michelle with an odd, sympathetic smile, then nodded. Outside, the sky stretched on. Ahead was a place with ghosts they thought they’d buried. Franklin sat down next to Michelle for a little chat. His face was slightly concerned.

“This looks less like an NCIS or NSA operation and more like the Charge of the Light Brigade. Lang didn’t exactly send me anything. I need to know more. I need to know what I'm walking into.”

“A scientist was searching for a miracle cure for terminal diseases. He dug up long-forgotten illegal research. He cured the girl and created a Frankenstein’s monster in the process.”

“I’ve dealt with monsters before,” Franklin replied. “How is she different?”

“That cure enhanced her body to an inhuman level and corrupted her brain by bringing out everything dark that was inside her.”

“Enhanced body? I find that hard to believe. We’re not in a sci-fi movie.”

Michelle stayed quiet for a while, then took a deep breath. “This has been kept top secret. Nobody was allowed to know. But since you are on this mission with us, I think it is fair you know. This is a level 5. Treat it like that.”

“I’ve done a lot of covered ops. I know what it means.”

“A group of rogue scientists invented a serum that enhanced and enslaved the human body. They experimented on young girls. The scientists didn't survive. Unlike some of the girls... And girls who did survive are sitting on this plane. Our mission is to shut down any remains of that research, so no one can try to play God again and destroy young lives.”

“And this girl is one of those remains?”

Michelle nodded. “She should be the last one. She is very strong and intelligent. That's why I brought the whole team.”

Samira overheard the conversation. “Strong is an understatement. Last time she pretty much humiliated us. And she broke my nose.”

Franklin’s expression went from professional caution to something grimmer; the weight of the situation sank in. “All right. Then we prepare for the worst. We keep our heads, our rules and we get her off the street.”

Michelle nodded. The engines droned on. Outside, the lights of Japan grew closer; inside, the team braced for the past coming home.

The jet touched down on the runway and taxied under the pale halo of Narita’s lights. The team filed through the terminal like ghosts. Outside, humid air wrapped around them; the Tokyo skyline smoldered in the distance. A black convoy waited beyond the gates.

Professor Kanzaki stood under the campus sign at Tojo Sayako’s entrance, pale and restless in an old cardigan despite the heat. He hadn’t slept much. Worry sat in the lines beside his eyes, but relief washed over him when he saw them.

“Miss Williams, thank you for coming so fast. I’m sorry about the fuss.”

“It’s fine,” Michelle replied. “We’ll need the dorms. They're empty for the summer, right?”

“Most students left weeks ago,” Kanzaki said. “The campus is nearly empty; the labs are on skeleton staff. Take the dorms. Use whatever you need. I’ll make sure maintenance keeps the cameras and network available to you. Please, use my office as well if you want a workspace.”

They walked through a quiet campus courtyard. Paper lanterns from a recent festival still sagged in a line somewhere. The hum of crickets and the distant thrum of a generator were the only soundtrack.

“I am sorry for what happened here,” Kanzaki said softly. “Toshiro’s work went somewhere I never intended. I will do whatever I can to fix it.”

“We know,” Michelle said. “For now, we need access — archives, campus CCTV, any personnel who saw unusual visitors. And your nephew will be meeting us tomorrow?”

Kanzaki nodded. “Rio will come by in the morning. He’s been helpful and discreet. He’s the one who can push for footage release and local cooperation. I warned him this may be difficult.”

They reached the dorm block. A utilitarian building, rows of small rooms with single beds and simple desks. It smelled faintly of detergent and summer. The girls fanned out, claiming rooms, dumping gear, setting up a makeshift command table with laptops, encrypted drives, and Kanzaki’s printouts.

“It’ll do,” Mei-Ling murmured, inspecting the space. “Quiet. Good for thinking.”

“We'll keep watches,” Trella said. “Empty campuses at night aren’t safe.”

“I’ll take the roof,” Katya added. “Clear sightlines around the perimeter.”

Kanzaki lingered, anxious. “Please be careful. If this is… her, she will be organized.”

“We’ll be discreet,” Michelle said. “Cautious. And thorough.”

Kanzaki offered a small, hollow smile, weary with gratitude. “Thank you. We’ll start fresh at dawn. Rest tonight. My nephew will have street contacts and access channels the university cannot use.”

The setup finished quietly: laptops open, footage queued, a kettle on for tea. The dorm block settled into a heavy, nervous silence — a base on foreign soil, a unit bracing for the storm. The lights dimmed. The team slept poorly, minds turning the grainy frames over and over until the quiet turned into dawn.