Chapter 8

Chapter 8

I'd woken up that morning in a pool of drool. What brought me around was a gentle prodding on my shoulder. Sarah Mackenzie was standing beside my bed, poking me. She was sporting a new pantsuit, navy blue, with a duller, sky blue shirt on under the blazer.

I didn't say anything, but I'd felt a little gratitude towards her right then. It was for sure that no one else would have been so nice about it.

“I brought yer tablet last night, but ye were at a kip, and couldn't be brought back. This is yer deal, so up to ye how we do this.”

Pushing myself up to a sitting position, I held up a finger to Sarah, asking her to give me a second. I got my breath going in short, quick bursts. The action caused the adrenaline rush I was looking for, and the fire in my brain blazed to full life. I felt back up to only sixty percent but tried to look at ninety as I jumped to my feet.

Sarah looked like she was scanning me again. I got the feeling that the girl as constantly analyzed and reevaluated everything as I did.

“Yer tablet's at the head, there.” She pointed it out.

Just as she'd said, my old, crappy tablet was resting on a pillow at the top of the bed. I recovered it and found Sarah holding a heater on me when I turned back.

“As I said, ye were at a kip when I came back the first time, but that dinnae mean ye couldn't have come to and fix a little trick before now. I'd be a real div if I didnae check for sure.”

The text for what she wanted me to do was plain. I removed my jacket, tossed it onto the bed, and followed it up with my shirt. She was going to tell me to keep going, so I beat her to the punch. I rolled up the cuffs of my jeans to show her there wasn't anything stuffed in my boots, then undid the button and let them drop. Draped in essentially nothing but my boxers, unless she wanted to snap on a rubber glove, there was nowhere left to go.

“Very well. Ye can button up.”

I couldn't be sure, but while I was putting my pants back in place, I thought I spotted a hint of a smile on her face.

“Now that I've cleared myself through my burlesque number, can we get started?”

“Do ye not want breakfast?”

“Stomach's a little wonky. Just water for right now will be more than enough, and if I want more, we can get it later. Besides, I'm not such a masochist I'd want to be seated at the Yoshida breakfast table.”

That time, I could see for sure that she gave a grin. All I'd been trying to do was get myself expedited and at work without delay. After saying it, I could tell how it had come across that way, but I hadn't meant to be funny. Still, wasn't such a bad thing for her to have a sense of humor. After all, the easier someone was to work with, the easier they were to work.

“I trust ye won't be offended when I insist ye stay ahead of me.”

While she said it, she locked her heater away in a shoulder holster under her left arm. I'd figured she meant it as a nonverbal gesture of cooperation, and I wondered if she had my gun on her as well.

“I don't suppose anyone thought to bring along that bike helmet I was wearing yesterday? I still need to hide my face from cameras.”

“I don't believe so, but we can provide ye with another one.” Responded Sarah.

I got into a half-quick march out of the room, and Sarah Mackenzie fell into step behind me. Right then, it was already shaping up to be another interesting day.

Sergeant Takahashi Sango ambled casually through the glass double doors to the diner. It was an unimportant, hole-in-the-wall, mom-and-pop business. There were maybe five tables, four booths, and a short counter with even fewer stools sitting at the head of the room. Only about six people were peppered about, not counting the lone waitress tending to all of them.

The place looked to Sango like it was making the effort to try to look more than it was. Its walls were a bright, soft peach color, and the windows were spotless, but at the same time, she could easily have pointed out where the lighting wires were poking through the ceiling and the cracks in the linoleum floor.

The waitress belatedly took notice of Sango's presence after two full minutes and approached with an apologetic smile on her face. The woman was most definitely on the malnourished side, resulting in her looking anywhere from twenty years old to fifty.
“Just me. I'll seat myself if you wouldn't mind getting me a coffee.” Sango proclaimed before the waitress could open her mouth.
The woman let her have the standard issue smile of wait staff the world over, meant to help her garner larger tips. She set off to get the coffee, and Sango noticed an increased quickness in the woman's gait. She figured the waitress must have taken in her professional appearance, and decided to be extra courteous to her in particular.

Sango cut a straight line for the second to last both in line, on the sun receiving side of the restaurant. Just as they'd agreed, her contact was already waiting for her.

“Hello, Seto.” She greeted him as she slid into the seat.

Iha Seto was her most reliable informant at the street level. He was a mousy man somewhere in his late twenties. While he didn't look quite like a strong breeze would carry him away, his frame still resembled a twig more than anything else. A former thief, Seto had made a semi-lucrative business of ripping off reputable cybernetics outlets and then reselling the parts on the black market for profit. He'd been a one-man operation, but not a very clever one. What allowed the law to catch up with him was the simple fact that he let his mug get caught on too many camera feeds where thefts occurred, and the rest fell like dominoes.

Sango had to give the man some credit, though. Inside the clink, he'd been a model prisoner. He hadn't affiliated with any gangs, hadn't been in any fights, or even broken a single rule. His record inside was so pristine, that he'd been able to qualify for early parole, and had gotten through the process without a hitch. On the outside at that time, officially, he was working as an ordinary lug for a moving company. Sango was fairly sure he occasionally gave some of his old criminal buddies the benefit of his expertise in avoiding certain setbacks, but she could tolerate that sin. In exchange for the knowledge she received by having his ear to the ground, she didn't send him upriver again. Plus, it didn't hurt that she knew he took care of his sickly old mother.

“Hiya, sergeant.” Seto returned her greeting. “What'd you want to ask me about?”

“You heard about that shootout at the docks? Five nights ago, now.”

“Sure, everybody has. Commando cops and a bunch of the Yoshida boys. Heard a few cops got their lights dimmed. My condolences.”

“That's why I'm here. I pulled the duty of bringing that killer in. I have pieces, but a whole isn't coming together. I need to see if maybe you can connect the dots for me.” Sango gave her reasons.

“Sure. Shoot.”

“To start, this perp I'm looking for might be a kid, twenty or younger. Maybe foreign, or not altogether Japanese. He's a hacker, good with computer crimes, and able to modify hardware to boot. Has a gun that shoots sonic needles like they do in the EU instead of waves. A real smart one. Been evading us since it happened. Don't have a name or anything tangible on him. You know who he is?”

Seto scratched at his cheek, thinking. Anxious as she was to maybe finally have some answers, Sango wasn't about to rush him. It was a full minute before something dinged in his eyes.

“Well, I can't say for sure. But for a couple years, there have been rumors about a kid hacker who could supposedly move your money or erase your transgressions from the record like nobody's business. Real one-man band, from what I hear.” Began Seto.

“That could be just the one I'm looking for. What's his name?” Sango unconsciously leaned forward, eager to hear.

“I don't know. All I've ever heard is rumor. I never put a lot of stock in 'em. Who'd believe that a kid could be a go-to hatchet man on data for big wigs, and the yakuza?”

“You've never even heard a name?”

“From what I've heard, the kid doesn't give it. He doesn't go around selling himself in person, and the couple guys I know who claim to have seen him, they said he either flat out refused to give a name or dropped an obvious fake.”

“Wait, you said something before about big wigs? What'd you mean by that?”

“Buddy of mine, he said his boss used the kid to hide the money he made from selling... certain objects to certain people he wasn't supposed to. My buddy, who was in on the score, had some money in on it too. He said the kid did a real good job, so good, it seemed like he did that sort of thing often.”

“Hmm. That's certainly interesting.” Sango said as possibilities ran through her mind.

“So, is that it?” Asked Seto. It was easy to see how impatient he was to get going.

“That's it, for now. I might call you and ask to be set up with your friend who's met the kid.”

Seto gave a noncommittal nod and sped his way out. After a moment, the malnourished waitress came back with a steaming mug of joe.

“Thank you.”

She slipped the woman a bill worth three times the listed price of the coffee.

“I'd like to speak to the owner or manager, please,” Sango added.

The waitresses' eyes kept firm on the moolah for a second before she pocketed it. Gratitude that was the genuine article was plastered all over her face.

“He'll be right out, honey.”

She left Sango alone in the booth. The sergeant removed her smartphone from her pocket and placed a call.

“Funai, it's Takahashi. Be ready to initiate multiple scans. I might have some images to feed in soon. I want all of them forwarded to each and every business and landlord in Minato-ku, and plastered all over social media.”

That day was the first and only time I would ever set foot inside of Eiwa Global Market Securities. From Yoshida's house, it'd taken two and a half hours to get there. It looked just how I would have pictured a rich as-all-hell financial institution. Dark brown stone floors so gleaming I could see myself in them, and walls so white they looked almost translucent. The open design of the lobby allowed everyone entering to see up to the second floor, connected by way of a pair of dual staircases. The same kind of furniture as you might find in a bank housed more than a few important-looking men and women.

A young woman behind a receptionist desk was pulling seemingly triple duty. I thought made out a glimpse of a microdot phone behind her left ear when she turned her dyed, blue hair. If I had seen it, it would have meant she was somehow speaking into three different calls at once. Sarah Mackenzie and I stepped up to her.

“Hello, we-” I started.

“Eiwa Global Market Securities, please hold. Eiwa Global Market Securities, please hold.” She kept repeating.

Seeing how that scenario might continue infinitely, I looked over at Sarah and gave a bob of my head towards the phone. She seemed to get my gist because she took out her phone and dialed a number. At the same time, I took out and used a program on my tablet to create a miniature bubble of pure static, blocking out all calls but the one I let through.

“Hello? Hello? Sir, are you there?” The receptionist ran through the gambit of lines before getting to ours.

“Hello, Eiwa Global Market Securities.”

“This is the two of us standing in front of ye,” Sarah spoke into her phone.

It was then the receptionist noticed that we shared the same planet for the first time. Dubious didn't begin to describe her expression when she saw me, face hidden beneath protective composites.

“I'm very sorry, how may I help you?” She'd put on her best face to say she was there to help.

“We're here to see Okino-san,” I told her.

If I'd ever in my life felt like I'd almost been laughed at, it was then. The receptionist did a decent job of suppressing it, but the snicker in her eyes was still plain enough.

I pressed on, saying, “Looks like your exterior lines are down for the moment, so why not just give him a call? What else do you have to do?”

“Very well, sir.”

She'd agreed, probably for nothing more than the entertainment value she'd thought it would produce. Sarah and I watched her dial an extension number.

“Okino-san, there is a couple here to see you. One moment, sir.” She lowered the handset to speak to us. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No, we don't.” Answered Sarah.

More delight flickered those eyes. By that point, I imagine the receptionist was planning to have a good laugh watching security throw us out.

“Let me speak to him, please,” I interjected.

“Certainly, sir.”

She handed the cordless over. It was in my brightest, friendliest tone that I jawed into the phone.

“Hi, Okino! It's your friend in need, from a few days ago.” I took a pause then. “That's right, it is me! Listen, we're down here in your lobby, and I really think you should let us upstairs. It's about those spending habits you and your pops share, and who else might be interested in them. I thought you might see it that way! Fifth floor? We'll be right up!”

Letting the receptionist have the handset back, I got a little kick from the abject disappointment written in bold. It was understandable. She hadn't gotten the show she'd been expecting, and she couldn't even demand a refund.

“Much appreciated.” Sarah thanked her as we moved off.

While waiting for the elevator, I burst the static bubble. The last thing I heard as Sarah and I boarded was an explosion of ringing.

“That wasn't a bad trick back there, forcing her to pay attention to us. How exactly did ye pull it off?”

Sarah asked it of me openly. We were the only two in the car, so there wasn't any harm in it.

“Technical jargon aside, a little bit of code jerry-rigging, and I had an infinite loop of static. Boosted the signal higher than the phone's with a little wireless sync with my own system as an amplifier, and you got a short-range blocker. It's an easy thing to track if you know what to look for, so I'd never use it much.” I gave her the explanation.

“Still, a grand display. I'm a problem solver by nature, but even my response down there might have been a tad more on the blunt side.”

“Problem solver. I figured that for your role in all this.”

“Aye? Did ya? Prey tell, how exactly is it ye reached that conclusion?”

There wasn't any in telling her that I could see. After all, I needed her on my side, and it might have helped me cultivate favor.

“To start with, you're Scottish. If one thing never changes, the yakuza rarely ever depends on gaijin, unless trust is already established. During my grilling last night, anyone could see that Yoshida and Daichi trust you implicitly. Means you've done at least a few jobs for them that came off well. At the same time, you don't sound like someone who spends a lot of time in this country. I can't pick up much neutrality in your accent, as would happen if you didn't live back in Scotland. Add all that together, I figure you for a freelance problem solver who somehow got recommended to the Yoshida a while back.”

“How did ye know I'm a problem solver? Why couldn't I be an assassin?”

She wanted to hear my complete analysis.

“Oh, you've got the moxie for it. Yoshida trusts you'll take care of me if I get out of line, but also that you'll try to help me get the job done first. Tells me you're a professional at what you do, but they wouldn't trust any dime-a-dozen cut-throat to give competent aid with something delicate like this. Makes you more than just a one-trick pony.”

That produced another smile on Sarah's face. A light was dancing in her eyes, focusing on me with such a strength that I wasn't entirely certain which way to read into it. Before that day, no one had ever looked at me like that.

“I'm impressed, to say the least. Takes someone of real observance to puzzle something like that out all by their lonesome.”

“Uh, right.”

The bell dinged, signaling we'd reached our floor, and jerking me out of a momentary murk.

Together, she and I stepped out of the elevator. We ran a gauntlet of looks ranging from inquiring, to incredulous, and a few bordering on angry. Nobody attempted to stop us or ask us our business, and we reached Okino's office uncontested.

The guy must have been psychic, or he'd had his eye glued to his wall-screen peephole because the door flew open before we'd even reached to knock. Okino really tried to grab, and yank me into the room, but I slapped his hand away and stepped in normally. He slammed the door shut behind us.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Droplets of spittle flew from his mouth as he lost his cool.

“It's called 'blackmail' genius.”

“But... I... you...”

He was having a hard time getting his head around it. It took him a few tries to give birth to a complete sentence.
“I paid you your money! The job was finished! I thought you were supposed to be a pro!”

“I am. The investigation had to call it quits, didn't it?”
Okino could not come up with a ready response.

“Perhaps ye should think of this as a small cost for getting off scot-free.” Sarah chimed in.

Okino's eyes darted so fast all over the place it nearly gave me whiplash. It was like he was trying to lock onto something visual to provide him an escape route. If I'd been alone in there with him, he might have tried to throw me out the window or something.

“You'll leave me alone after this if I help you?”

Given up without even trying to put up a fight. I was sure glad I'd never been him.

“Either way, it's in yer best interest to play along, isn't it?” Sarah told him.
Okino might as well have waved a white flag at the same time he sagged his shoulders.

“What do you want?”

“As a brokerage house, you naturally have access to all the largest banks in Neo Tokyo. We need you to give us access to the Kurosaki Imperial Crown Bank.”

For a second, Okino looked like he might try for another protest, but then seemed to remember he didn't have any choice. His walk to the desk made me think of a man going to the gallows. Sarah and I waited patiently for him to give us the signal.

“Okay.” He said after a spell.

Okino stood up, I took his place in the chair, and then adjusted his admin settings to create a bridge between the computer and my tablet. Sarah leaned down to watch me work.

“So, how do ye plan on getting into the accounts?” She asked me.

“Shouldn't be tough.” My left hand alone flew over the desktop's keyboard while my right worked the tablet. “I'm initiating a transfer from a client into the target account. They can fix it themselves later. While the money's transferring, I'm using the open connection to inject some of my code and create a back door to slip through right now. And, we're in.”

I'd successfully busted into the account holding Mayor Hamada's campaign budget. The money itself wasn't what I was after. What I was looking for were the records of other incoming transfers. Not wanting to waste time searching, I took screenshots of every page to peruse at my leisure. My work finished, the tablet disappeared back into my satchel.

“Is it over?”

Sounded like a little kid had asked it instead of Okino.

“Ye might want to get started on a story to cover that transfer just now, but otherwise, I don't think there's more,” Sarah told him.

We left Okino looking like he'd been digested and spat out.

Sarah and I decided to take the stairs back down. Walking beside her, I got to thinking. She'd only asked one question during the procedure, leading me to think she'd followed everything I did. Hadn't even asked if anything could blow back on us, so I guessed she was astute enough to trust I'd covered my tracks without needing confirmation.

Once again in the main lobby, even though I'd had my eyes on a swivel, I'd never seen the next events coming. Sarah and I had been halfway from the stairwell to the doors when she'd suddenly snatched my arm and dragged me over to one of the settees before I could resist.

“What are you doing?!” I'd asked imperiously but kept my voice low as well.

“I just saw a cop come in through the main doors. I recognize her. She's a homicide dick. Can't know why she's here, but chances are, it has to do with you.”

I hadn't spotted any cops, and I'd been on the lookout for all potential threats.

“Don't look for her!” Sarah quietly declared. “She's good. If ye look for her, she'll spot ye.”

“How do we do this?”

“Take the helmet off. It might pass on the street, but it stands out here.”

She had a point. The helmet was needed to keep my kisser from being photographed, but that veil could still just as easily rat me out to the fuzz. I took it off, post haste.

“Now what?”

I very much required her input at that point. Making myself invisible in a crowd was easy, but with someone else in tow had never been a factor for me before.

“We need to look normal.”

My following thought had been to ask her how. It was killed in its infancy when Sarah leaned forward and locked her lips onto mine, and my muscles seized. Nothing else was possible for me. I didn't have a clue about what to do, if I was even supposed to do anything.

When the impact faded, I started paying attention to how it felt. Sarah's lips felt soft and full. There was a bit of suction coming from her. I had no idea if she'd been covering us like she said, really kissing me, or maybe both. It'd taken another second, but it started to seem like it didn't matter. The kiss was warm and strangely comforting, and I sensed myself starting to lean into it.

“I'd like to speak to the head of security.” Takahashi Sango flashed her tin to the receptionist.

The young woman working the desk gave a look of being more annoyed than staggered. Still, she held up a finger indicating to wait and proceeded to dial a specific number.

An hour and a half earlier, Sango had plugged the CGI rendering into the diner's computer. The scanning program embedded into her police issue smartphone let her quickly pick out all of the best matches from the restaurant's cameras going back a month.

After forwarding all of the faces to Funai, she'd decided to go and personally canvas the investment firms and banks. If her suspect had a specialty for hiding money then he'd likely interacted with someone before, and maybe even come around in person. Eiwa Global Market Securities was the second location she'd visited.

The receptionist spoke up. “Sergeant, Murata-san will-”

Sango's phone interrupted, and she gestured to the receptionist to wait while she answered it.

“Funai?” Sango listened to the other end. “What?! One of 'em got a hit already?! Alright, I'm on my way!”

To the receptionist, she said, “You can call that off.”

Sango turned back around and rushed for the doors.

I'm not sure how long it lasted, but Sarah ultimately pulled back, and the kiss was over. My feelings over the event were a mess of mixed knots I didn't know how to untangle. Reminding myself of what I was doing, I got back to my usual state of mind.

“Well?” I asked Sarah.

“I heard someone rush out, so we're gonna take the risk. Stand up, and walk together with me. Ye get it. Ye're not a bampot.”

Her meaning was easy enough to grab. As we stood, I held my newest bike helmet at my side and fought the urge to put it back on. We strolled casually towards the door, forcing our body language to stay relaxed.

“I think the lass has gone,” Sarah said, halfway to the doors.

We made it the rest of the way out and to the car without being stopped by anyone.

“We were almost in a right spot of muck back there.”

“Yeah, listen, uh... thanks. I didn't even spot that cop back there, whoever she was. Might have gotten pinched if it wasn't for you.”

“There's nothing to be thanking me for. It's my job here to make sure yours goes off without a hitch. Until that's done, you can think of me like your partner in crime.”

Sarah beamed another smile over to me.
Again, I had a feeling of warmth and comfort. It was nice, so I'd pushed it out of my head entirely. In the home stretch of the most important job of my life, I needed to keep my eye on the ball.

Terada Daichi left his car secured, but still idling at the side of the road. Having promised a honeypot of a payout to the first snitch in his network who came through, every one of them put in the effort. It'd turned out to be the city hall contact who'd taken the prize. The man had delved into the city's records and discovered that the name leasing the apartment where the kid said he lived had died twenty-two years earlier.
That had been good enough for Daichi to decide to go and look it over for himself.

“I find one thing in this apartment to make me think that kid is even considering playing us, I'm personally gonna cut him up and feed him to the dogs alive. I might after just because he ducked out before we could show him how he'd get the screws if he double-crossed us. Gonna have to have a talk with Mackenzie when she gets back about proper procedures.” Daichi internally ranted.

He glanced up at the seven-story apartment building. It wasn't exactly at the dock slums yet, but he could certainly smell them.

“Kid lives in a dump like this, and claims he's good at what he does? Yeah, right. Looks like we'll be getting the ice picks ready by the end of the day.”

While crossing the street, Daichi had been mentally calculating how much to bribe the super. Another car rolled to a stop right in front of the doors when he was a third of the way across. It had all the bland plainness, but shining newness someone of Daichi's years knew straight off was an unmarked cruiser. The woman that climbed out of it set off his cop radar as well. She went straight in with a certain zing in her step.

“It could be for something else, but what are the chances of that today? So, he was telling the truth in at least one regard. The cops really are looking for him.”

Daichi did an about-face to return to his car. He might just wait to see how things played out after all. At least, he wouldn't fix up anything against the kid until they heard back from Mackenzie.