Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Inside the apartment building, Takahashi Sango had arranged to meet the superintendent in the main foyer while en route. The tip had come in response to the police department's social media broadcasting. Someone in that building had posted to say that one of the people in the still taken from the diner feed lived in their building.

“Hello, I'm Sergeant Takahashi.” She introduced herself.

“Tashiro Kozue.” Reciprocated the super.

She was an older woman, with plain facial features, and equally nondescript clothing. With as much as Sango considered Okimi to be full of life, Tashiro looked like she was just muddling along. The two women proceeded up to the sixth floor.
They found a young man waiting for them at the target door. He was in his mid-twenties and looked as straight-laced as anyone could.

“Hi. I'm Yoshino Ryuusei. I commented on that wanted notice online.”

“Yoshino-san, thank you for doing your civic responsibility,” Sango said. “I just want to confirm, you're sure the man in this picture is your neighbor?”

She held up her watch and expanded a holographic picture past the boundaries of the screen. It was one of the stills taken from the restaurant, giving a clear picture of a different young man passing by the exterior of its doors. Yoshino took a long study of the image.

“Yeah, that's him, alright. I should know. Guy's lived next to me for a year now. I've tried to be friendly, but he's never said one word to me.”

Sango smiled. Progress, at last. She could practically feel herself slapping the cuffs into the kid already.
“Thank you, Yoshino-san. Tashiro-sama, please open the door.”

Tashiro gave no word as she moved past the younger detective to the apartment in question, and leaned close to the scanner above the knob.

“Superintendent Tashiro. Disable tenant blood-reader.” She issued the instructions.

Tashiro breathed into the scanner, tripping the breathalyzer to work in sequence with the vocal analyzer. The lock audibly clicked open, and the entire door violently blew off its hinges as red flames erupted from and filled the entire doorway.

Superintendent Tashiro was thrown across the width of the hall to collide with the opposite side and fell to the floor, either unconscious or worse. Sango didn't know yet. She raced forward as quickly as her feet would take her and dragged the other woman further away from the inferno.

“Yoshino! Go hit the fire alarm!” She ordered, looking back over her shoulder.
Yoshino had been standing there in a stunned haze. Sango's commands seemed to snap him out of it, and he ran off to do as told. Sango placed her fingers over Tashiro Kozue's throat, looking for a pulse. The woman was still alive.

After half a beat to feel relieved, Sango lifted her smartwatch back to her mouth.

“Connect to phone! Call emergency services!”

“Your call is connected.” The watch replied.

“I need an ambulance and firetrucks at 3 Chome-40-6 Shiba, Minato-ku.”

At the same time, the building's alarm system sent the alert throughout the interior. Sango looked back at the burning apartment door, wondering what happened.

We'd driven around for an hour on a surveillance detection route before deciding we weren't being followed. Sarah pulled the car over into the lot of a grocery and liquor store so we could check out what we'd gotten.

“What'd we get?” Sarah asked.
She'd started to lean to my side to look at the screen, so I held it out closer to stop her.

“So, these are all of the deposits into the account governing Hamada's entire reelection budget. All these tiny sums of two-hundred, three-hundred yen, are donations from the public. They make up some, but not the whole pie.” I explained.

“So, yer looking to go after one of the big wanks.”

“You're a quick study. See these transfers for a million yen and up? They're the ones we're after. We just need to pick one. But, there's an issue.”

“Let me take a poke at what it is. Ye deh know which one of these lofty might be the easiest to get at. Needs must ye pick the right one straight off. Reason be, ye don't have the manpower this time for a frontal brawl, it wouldn't be too helpful this time to do it that way, and ye're on the clock in more ways than one. Ye have to pick the right one, and somehow get yourself close enough to one of their computers to do your stuff, but without causing a fracas on the way up.”

Sarah's explanation had been astute to the last detail. If I hadn't been expecting her by that point to work it all out, I might have fallen flat on my face with surprise. She was the most point woman I'd ever known in my life until then.

“Like I said, you're a quick study,” I said.

“Let's have a gander at those names.”

Sarah held her hands out, asking to be given my tablet. Mainmasts sporting bright red flags rose themselves in my mind with that. My gut instinct was telling me not to let her touch it, that she'd somehow foul up my carefully laid plan. I decided to act in opposition to that impulse, and let her take it. Sarah had already proven herself both clever and helpful, and I had a goal to achieve. Whether I did it all myself or got help from her wasn't important.

“Ah, now here's an interesting one,” Sarah spoke up after moments of evaluating the screen. “Ikehara Natsu. He's the CEO for Raidon Solar Electric.”

“The city's primary power supplier.”

“Aye. Yoshida isn't my only client here in Japan, so I've a bit of a network. Ikehara's known to be a real tight fist. I heard through the grapevine that he's looking to change security to anyone willing to underbid his current, and do the same work.”

“How does that help us?” I asked.
“I've a little notoriety among people of influence. It's the kind that if I showed up and said I might be able to fix Mr. Ikehara's problem for him, get him the protection he needs for the too low price he wants to pay, he'd likely be willing to have a listen.”

Taking a moment to consider her plan, I ran it backward and forward through my mind. No matter how I crunched the numbers, I couldn't plug any noteworthy holes through the plot. It'd get us up where we wanted to be without needing to throw lead, and I'd be able to swipe the next piece of the puzzle.

“Okay, that's how we'll do it.”

“It's a plan, then.”

Right then, my stomach gave me a twinge. It was the first I'd felt how empty it was since waking up, and I could feel exhaustion and pain trying to creep up on me again. I gripped the door handle to get out and get something to suppress all three from the shop in front of us. Sarah's hand was tightly squeezing my other arm no sooner than I'd started to pull.

“Where exactly do ye think ye're going?” She asked.

For a second there, I'd forgotten that she was my babysitter and possible executioner.

“The ole breadbasket's finally caught up with me. I'm gonna grab a bite and a drink.”

She shot me a look like she wasn't sure if I should be believed or not.

“You've got the car, you've got your heater, and probably mine too. I'm gonna buy a sandwich, a drink, some painkillers for my headache, and maybe visit the lavatory. I'll be five minutes, tops. I'm smart enough to know there isn't much I could rig up in five minutes you couldn't counter, and it wouldn't get me any closer to my goals.” I laid out for her.

She must have seen the wisdom in what I was selling because she let me go in without another word.

Takahashi Sango took fleeting glances into the apartment whenever she could. The mouse cage simply wasn't big enough for more than three people, max, to be in there at one time. It'd been an hour plus since the pyrokinetics had given the building a full-body quiver.

The fire and medical departments had been on the ball that day, showing up in time not only to whisk the superintendent off to care but also to salvage most of the floor from scorching.

At that time, Sango was standing in the blackened hall, trying not to slip on the soot under her feet. She was looking to learn what she could from Okimi and her techs. While waiting, what Sango saw coming towards her in the hall gave her as much pause as it did concern. Inspector Okazaki was on the scene.

“Inspector. I-I wasn't expecting to see you here.”

Nervousness dripped from Sango's voice as she spoke. That was the first time the Inspector had ever come out to one of her crime scenes. It was unsettling.

“Well, Sergeant, I know how busy you must be, so I thought I'd come to you to check on your progress.”

“Ma'am, I've been working diligently. I think I'm close. From my updates to the system, you can see that one of the people matching the rendering was identified as living in this building. What happened here proves the subject is involved.”

“But, as I understand it, there have been multiple match-ups for that rendering. Including one who was also on a motorcycle the computer was also fixed as belonging to our supposed suspect.”

Sango frowned, not quite understanding the Inspector's point.

“Ma'am, that subject on the motorcycle yielded only a fifty-one percent possible match. While we have to allow for the possibility that either the rendering might be flawed or computer error, a forty-two percent isn't usually held as good enough for an arrest.”

The inspector then exhaled, and her eyes seemed to soften.

“Come here, sergeant.”

The two women walked a sufficient distance for some privacy.

“Alright, Sergeant, here it is square. The upper regs are gettin' kind of antsy for results on this one. It's been five days since the killings happened, and they expected us to have it all boxed and wrapped in half that time. They expect us to show the city strength, and they're not happy with the lack of arrests.”

“But, ma'am, surely they can't expect me to arrest and charge someone without being certain.”

“Sergeant, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't serious. I got a personal visit from the Ox.”

The “Ox,” as she was known only behind her back, was Jibiki Shion. She was the Senior Commissioner, only one step below being the head of the entire department. She had the weight to chop anyone's head she wanted and had the reputation of being ready to swing. It was common knowledge that unless you were ready for a new career path, you had to do what the Ox told you.

“So, how should I do this?” Sango asked weakly, the implications pressing down on her.

“My advice is to focus on the one on the bike. You said in your report that you thought the bike likely the same one. Keep digging, but you have to bring someone in by tomorrow because the Ox herself is coming to check. We have to give her the show she expects.”

“I understand, ma'am. I'll get on it.”

“Sorry for the extra pressure, but I know you can do it.”

With her final words of encouragement, Inspector Okazaki departed. Another fresh level heaped onto the stakes of the case, Sango returned to the apartment.

“Okimi, I don't want to pressure you, but do you have anything?”

“Dear, I'm sorry, but I don't have anything good to report here. The forensics boys' initial report says everything was burned up. They're not done, but so far, they haven't found one trace of DNA anywhere.”

“So, this was definitely arson?”

“Oh, without a doubt. Every centimeter of this room was coated with a mixture of kerosene, turpentine, and paint thinner, and multiple layers at that. This place was a matchstick just waiting for a spark.”

“But, how did it go up?”

“Brilliantly! I'll show you. Can we have a little space please?” Okimi asked her assistants.

The two techs cleared out, giving Sango enough latitude to shimmy in. Okimi closed the apartment door behind her, and it was all too plain to see.

“I feel confident that whoever lived here is the same one who modified that phone. He sawed out the metal covering of the door, and then chipped away at the wood until he'd reached the override mechanism from this side. He took it apart from the back, and without disabling the device itself, installed a new circuit that ran from the battery back into here. When that poor woman used it to open the lock, it created the spark this matchstick needed.”

“There isn't a way to prove this is there? I mean, it can't be definite that the same person who did this is also the one who had that phone we recovered from the ship.” Sango said.

“I would stake my reputation on it, but as of right now, you're correct. I may be an expert, but only two examples do not quite qualify as definitive. While both bits of engineering are impressive-”

“They don't inexorably measure up to each other.” Sango completed the thought.

“Correct.”

“Which means unless something new turns up, I have no way to prove the kid from this apartment is our killer.”

The headquarters for Raidon Solar Electric was located in the same facility as their primary power plant. The plant itself, like the others of its kind, was constructed almost entirely from industrial strength, transparent polycarbonates. Not only was it designed to let in as much light as possible for collection, but specially designed “light shafts” utilized a complex system of reflection and refraction to increase the strength of the light stored before future distribution occurred.

In a day, one plant alone could generate enough clean energy to power fifty square blocks. If the mega-quake hadn't leveled more than half of them, the city probably would have been in better shape then.

Sarah had made one call from the car while we were driving, and we'd been given the full VIP treatment upon arrival. A woman about Sarah's age and who was suspiciously beautiful to be an average worker had greeted us in the parking lot. By the time she'd met us, I'd once again donned my helmet and a pair of leather gloves.
Despite being Japanese, the girl had introduced herself as “Mindy.” With the hollow, practiced friendliness of hostesses the world over, Mindy tried, at first sight, to make us feel like no one else was more important to her. She asked our names, how we were if we'd like any drinks and the rest of the rigmarole.

She lead us into the corporate section of the plant. I wouldn't have thought it possible, but the place was done with even more money and less taste than Eiwa. If I'd even tried focusing on the monstrously garish decor, I probably would have given myself another headache.

Sarah and I might have discussed details to stay cohesive on our way up, but Mindy never left us. She walked with us through the lobby, worked the elevator buttons, and was with us right up until the presidential office. We lost our annoying shadow when she sat down behind a desk and looked to go back to office work. Explained why there was such a dish at the power plant. She was eye candy for Ikehara, and maybe more.

Sarah and I entered the office together. I'd never seen Yoshida's office back in his building, but I imagined it wasn't so different. It was wide and deep enough to fit four of my apartment. The entire wall far wall was glass, letting the whole space be lighted naturally. The office not only housed the man's desk, but a matching set of a couch and chairs around a coffee table, a Persian rug on the floor, and a fully stocked bar in the corner.

“Ms. Mackenzie! It's such a pleasure to finally meet you! I've heard so many good things about you.” Ikehara lilted as he rose from his desk.

He was a man who might have been in his forties, but also might have some decent work done to look younger. Couldn't say for sure. I probably could have hocked the suit he had on to pay for a six-month luxury cruise. I'd bet he had a whole team of stylists just to keep his beard looking effortless and carefree.

“I must say, I'm taken aback to see that this woman I've heard so much about, who garners so much respect in the community is so young and beautiful.” He went on.
Going by western etiquette, Ikehara reached out to shake hands.

“We all find our callings at different times, Ikehara-san. I was fortunate enough to discover mine early on.”

Sarah accepted the gesture and shook. After retaking their respective hands, the CEO turned to me.

“And hello to you too, sir. Um, would you care to remove your helmet?”

“I'm afraid that isn't possible. You see, my associate here, he's a bit photosensitive. Quite literally can't take them off or it'd be a trip to the hospital.”

“Oh! My apologies, then. Still, I would like to have your name, sir. By the cut of your build, I just know we must have a lot in common.”

It was a temptation to punch him out right there.

“Yamato-san,” I said, shaking with him.

“A fellow countryman!” He said as if it made us brothers. “I should have known! So pleased to know both of you. Now, have a seat, please.”

Sarah plopped herself into one of the visitor's chairs before the desk. I declined.

“I'd prefer to listen and check out these sight lines.”

I took up a position behind Ikehara.

“So, Ikehara-san, why is it exactly ye wish to change security?”

“To be perfectly frank, I believe my current provider is swindling me. I'm certain that they've been overcharging me for certain-”

Ikehara shut his trap the second he felt my hand wrap around his throat.

“Wh-what is this?” A note of panic swept through his voice.

“We need to access certain personal information of yours. I'm sure a man like you is far too lazy to have his work and private networks separated, so should be able to get all we need right from this office. If you'd be enough of a sport to input your authorization, we'll be out of your overly quaffed hair in no time.” I said.

A gulp pressed against my fingers as it slid down his gullet.

“If you leave now, we won't have to involve the police.” He tried sounding in control. “No matter what you do, you won't be able to gain access to the system, so don't make things worse for yourselves.”

“Can't gain access?” Sarah asked.

Vacating her chair, she looped around to my side of the desk.

“Oh, I see! Biometric threat detection. Doesn't just take yer blood, but also reads your bpm, oxygen intake, and adrenal production. It then asks yer body's system if it's been injured or hurt, and if it decides you're being coerced, it'll snap tighter than a drum.” After her commentary, Sarah looked into my face. “Think ye can tackle it?”

“If somebody wasn't eventually gonna come in looking for pinhead here, sure. How things stand, it'd take too long.”

“See? You should-”

A little more pressure from my grip shut Ikehara right up.

“However, I think I know something we can do. Sarah, I need you standing back to make sure he can't try anything.”

She nodded, and took a few healthy steps away from us, pulling out her Roscoe at the same time. My guess had been she'd use a gun similar to mine, and I was right. I couldn't tell the exact make, but it was an EU model, firing sonic needles instead of waves.

With her securing us, I did my part. Removing my hand from his throat, I used the index and middle fingers of my right hand to apply acupressure to the spot between Ikehara's eyebrows. The pressure point I was hitting, when stimulated properly, released endorphins into the body. I had to stand there for over five minutes massaging the point, but it eventually started to feel in the shoulder I was holding down as if some tightness were leaving the man.

“He looks quite relaxed.” Confirmed Sarah.

Hearing that, I grabbed the guy's wrist and wriggled his thumb into the blood-reader before he could resist. The device beeped, and the computer powered itself on. His usefulness having run its course, I gave Ikehara the experience of tasting his own desk, and he tumbled to the floor.

“That went off easier than I was expecting,” Sarah remarked while approaching me.

“In the system, all I have to do is set up an interlink with my device, and now to copy over the hard drive content.”

The transfer had only begun when an alarm began blaring in our ears.

“Damn it! The alarm must be tied to go if the whole database is copied!”

“Are the files still coming along?!” Sarah asked.

“Yes. Seems Ikehara has this station exempted from digital gridlock. Guess whatever he does is too important to let anything hold him up.”

Through the office door, we could hear something faintly like shuffling feet. Sarah and I shared a look and knew what the other was thinking.

“Going fast, but I'm still gonna need a minute.”

Simultaneously with Sarah giving me a nod, the door cracked a hair. Without hesitation, Sarah sent sonic death singing at the door. They sailed through it, at least one body dropped, and more scampered in retreat.

“Yamato!” She called to me.

I looked up in time to snatch my gun from the air. She'd had it with her the whole time. While the files transferred, and Sarah kept our opposition pinned down, I scanned for a way out. The door was blocked and looked to stay that way, so that left us the window. Twisting towards it, I put some slugs of my own through the glass, and then hurled Ikehara's chair through the window for good measure. Leaning out, I spotted a window for the lower floor a doable four meters down.

Backtracking to the middle of the room, the rug came up from where it lay, and I ripped out its borders. Tying all four together end to end produced a rope that would just reach. I went back to the desk to check on the transfer.

“It's done!” I yelled to Sarah while stowing the tablet.

Together, she and I pushed the desk up to the edge of the window. Having a keen eye, she'd tracked my improvised plan. I knotted the rope around one of the legs and tossed it out.

“Ladies first.”

While she repelled down the rope, I issued some cover fire at the door. A second later, a new sound of glass smashing told me she'd made it through. Taking the rope in hand myself, I got chills and a dry heave seeing what awaited if I fell, and I could picture the splat I'd make on the ground. It only lasted a second.

I steadied myself and leapt. The rope gave me a slight burn sliding down it, but I was able to swing into the lower floor. My back collided with the wall of a cubicle, and then Sarah was there, helping me to my feet.

We'd landed in a communal bullpen. A few workers were gaping wide-eyed at us, but thanks to the alarm, most of them were already on their way out. Sarah and I took the liberty of joining the herd in the stairwell.

Between her red hair and everything about me, we weren't exactly masters of camouflage right then. Confusion was our ally. The seething throng looking to evade a perceived threat didn't much care who tagged along.

“Hey! There they are!” We heard between the fourth and third floors.

Ikehara's security boys had found us, but they couldn't get to us. Even without looking back, we knew the human soup was way too thick for them to reach us while in those cramped conditions, much less do anything. Sarah and I milled forward, step by step, biding our time.

After ten minutes of shuffling, Sarah and I blasted off running as soon as we hit the lobby. We had to knock, shove, and punch people out of our way until the ones in front got the message to make a path. However far behind us, the security boys had been, it hadn't been enough.

We were two-thirds of the way out when new clacks of rounds came from behind us. The first one must have been into the ceiling. It'd been to get all the bystanders to clear out for a semi-free shooting range. It'd also given Sarah enough time to half turn, and throw something I would only figure out later had been my dummy grenade.
Back outside, she and I made a beeline for the car, but then my strength started sapping faster than a drunk at last call.

“No! Not now!” My mind screamed.

There was nothing for it. I started slowing down, my limbs turning to lead, my air coming through old man wheezes. As I fell to one knee, I saw Sarah notice my state, and then run faster.

I tried to push forward, but until it had passed, it was all I could do to stand up.

“Not now! Not when I'm so close!”

I turned to face my coming attackers and raised my iron with shaky fingers. Even if I was going to die there, I sure as hell wouldn't go without a fight. The encroaching four were drawing their bead on me as well.
We were all a second from firing when Sarah and the car were suddenly between us, flinging open the passenger door.

“Get in!”

I didn't have to be told twice. Lumbering one step forward, I let myself fall straight into the vehicle. Rubber screeched, and I felt the end twisting around a circle. Spurning my weakness, I forcibly hauled my way up to the open window of the door, and let loose a barrage of shots to protect us. If any of them hit anything, I wouldn't believe it, but it let Sarah get us pointed the right way and rocketing out of there.

I fell back against the seat, finding a little amusement in knowing I'd cheated death for the third time in a week.

“Uh... thanks... for that,” I told her.

“It's my job, but what was that keech back there? You keeled over.”

“I'll tell you... in a bit.” I said more easily, getting my wind back.

We spent the next hour going through an SDL to make sure we hadn't grown a tail. When it looked clear, Sarah pulled the car over in a quiet section under an overpass.

“So?” She asked.

“First things first. I want to see what kind of info we got from back there. That is the point, isn't it?”

Sarah pondered the question for a bit before agreeing with a nod. We sat there for another three-quarter hours while I perused the documents, looking for just the right dirt.

“This is certainly interesting. Seems Ikehara-san signed off on multiple orders resulting in the delayed construction of the new satellite plants in Shiki, Koshigaya, Higashimurayama, and Kashiwa. There are attached notes from the foreman saying that the orders are causing more delays than they're stopping.” I explained.

“Haven't some of those sites been underway for going on three years or more?” Sarah asked.

“Some for longer. And the prices for trucking power to those furthest reaches just keeps going up.”

Sarah and I shared a knowing grin. We had Ikehara's goose well and truly cooked.

Since he'd had no choice but to flee the previous night, Miyake Genkei had holed up in the first out-of-the-way place he could find. He'd gone all the way to Saitama, where they'd yet to even start trying to fix some of the things leveled by the mega-quake. He'd been lucky enough to find an only partially demolished house that still had a sturdy roof over its good half. He hadn't even been able to get himself something to eat, cause he was sure the fuzz had grabbed his face when they'd been nose to nose.

“His fault! It was all his fault!” Genkei kept repeating in his head.

It'd all been because of that no good, cockeyed, scum-sucking, ass-licking, piece of shit in the helmet. He'd come in like he was such hot stuff, saying he'd done this and he did that, so they should listen to him. Said he could make it so they got everything they wanted, everything that was rightfully theirs.

They'd listened to him alright, and what had it accomplished?! Genkei's friends were dead! The whole gang he'd put so much effort into building, gone! When Genkei thought of his friends, the greatest group of guys he'd ever known, he experienced a deeper melancholy than he thought he was capable of. He didn't even know if Souta was still alive.

He and Souta had been together since the beginning. They'd lived in the same crummy neighborhood, and had the time to become friends before the first affliction which would spawn Genkei's many years in the hospital had arisen. They'd bonded over searching for junk good enough to sell for a few yen, playing either samurai or yakuza, or running away from the bigger kids. They'd had a little group with a few more kids in it, but Genkei couldn't remember their names any longer. All those times he was out of commission, unable to do anything, Souta had been the only one of them to come and see him in the hospitals, actually tried to make him feel better and believe that things could change. Genkei had no allusions about what he was to everyone else, but he could honestly say, he would have taken a wave for Souta.

When he remembered why his gang was dead, why his best friend was likely dead, it refueled Genkei with the immeasurable fury which had driven him through most of his life. The helmet guy. Genkei was going to kill the helmet guy! Genkei wanted to beat him to death! Shooting him wasn't good enough! He needed to suffer! Genkei wanted to personally feed him to the sharks in Tokyo Bay! He wanted to disembowel the helmet guy and leave him to be eaten alive by the rats! Genkei wanted to chop off all of his limbs and throw him into the middle of traffic to helplessly flounder until the right car found the mark! Any one of those would allow him to feel like he'd adequately avenged his comrades.

Something then broke the silence in a way that Genkei would have sworn would be impossible. The sound to say he had a text message on his phone was going off. He had to check it out. The curiosity was way too powerful.

He unlocked the device to find a message saying, “Genkei? You there? Please answer if you're there.”

Before he could stop to think about it, Genkei typed out a response.

“Who is this?”

Took almost two minutes, but a response came back.

“It's Benjiro.”

He thought that over. They had had a guy in there by the name of Benjiro. He'd been a new addition from a few months back. Genkei tried to think of it but realized he'd never bothered to learn the guy's family name.

Genkei wrote, “If you're Benjiro then how come I don't have any ID for these texts?”

It was another two minutes before the next reply came in.

“Swiped the phone from some guy on the street. Such a cheapo model, it's only good for texts. Lost mine back in the Yoshida building.”

Wondering if he should even dare to hope that one of his guys had made it out of there, Genkei fired off the next one. He needed to be sure the person on the other end was his man.

“What's the last thing I said to the gang before we left? When we were all alone in the back room.”

Two minutes to get the answer.

“You said once we'd done in all the Yoshida and pissed on their graves, you were gonna make the dickwad in the helmet give all the money to us so we'd be rich, and then were gonna blow him away to give us a show for the job we'd done.”

It was what he'd said, almost just how he'd said it. Nobody but the lot of them had been back there. It had to be Benjiro!

“What happened back there?! How'd you get out?! Do you know if anybody else made it through?!”

That time, it was longer than five minutes before Genkei got what he was looking for.

“I got the message that things were supposed to start, and at first, it was going good. I got me a few of the guys I was waiting to whack, and it was a lot of fun. I was thinking it was gonna be the easiest payday anybody'd ever had. But then, some of the plain Jane suits started comin' out of their cubby holes packin' heaters. It went from a great dream to a total nightmare with just a coin flip. I got away from the first ones and hid in a supply closet, figurin' I'd get in touch with the other guys, let 'em know, and then we could group up. Wasn't about to call it quits without takin' a shot.

But, the stupid phone wouldn't work! The conference thingy the helmet guy set up was friggin' useless, so I threw the phone away! So, I went back out thinking that maybe if I could find a couple of the guys myself, we might have enough to make it to some more guys on our side and so on. I really tried, and even got a couple of them plain Janes, but more and more kept showin' up. When I knew I couldn't get to anybody, I did a runner. Figured everybody else would be doing the same, too. I swiped this one and been tryin' everybody, but you're the only one who's written back.”

“You haven't heard from Souta?” Genkei asked.

The answer to that one came in quicker than the rest.

“Not a peep.”

Bejiro hadn't heard from Souta. That wasn't heartening, but it cause to break out the funeral bouquet either. A new text came in.

“Genkei, there's somethin' else I think you should know.”
“What?”

Three minutes.

“So, after I got out of there, I went and hid first in that garage you told us about, thinkin' I'd watch for who else got out there. I was just on the second level and had a real good view. I saw old man Yoshida come out through the front door, his old-guy partner, some foreign skirt, and the helmet guy. I mean, he was out cold, and the helmet was gone, but I recognized the jacket and clothes. They put him in one of the cars and went off with him.

That got me kinda curious, so I decided to follow 'em. They went out to this giant ass mansion in the real back of beyond. I had to wait out there all night and into this morning, but I saw the helmet guy come out again. He was on his own, and with the foreign skirt too. I don't know how to say this, but I think he's working for the old man. Who knows? Maybe he was the whole time.”

Reading that last line of text, Genkei felt something numb, and at the same time, more powerful than the sun. He felt like to get that helmet guy, he could tear the whole city apart with his bare hands.