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View Full Version : "A Ronin's Spring Quest - the tale of Kato Tadao"



Tripitaka of AA
24th February 2003, 21:37
Kato Tadao studied the shape of the air as it left his mouth, clouds of warmed vapours escaping his lungs into the chill of the morning. He felt satisfied and alert, the special feeling that comes after a good training session. Placing his Katana back on the display stand he turned, kneeled before the family shrine and lit some incense.

The photograph of his mother looked stern and unnaturally formal. It had been taken when she had taken her little Tadao-chan to visit her family in Manchuria. It was part of a posed family portrait, but the other members had been airbrushed out from this specially enlarged portrait. She looked so much older than he remembered her. Whenever he trained at home, he would always finish by offering his grattitude to the ancestors. They had taught him all that he needed to know, and he would one day pass on the family techniques to a new generation. He finished by silently pledging to maintain the traditions and keep the secrets.

From the courtyard outside, the inquisitive barks of a dog drew his attention...

Tripitaka of AA
25th February 2003, 09:58
He picked up his Tonfa, Sai and Bokken, put them in his sports bag and headed for the door. He took out the Mobile Phone and switched it on, wondering what text messages might have arrived at such an early hour.

Charlie Kondek
25th February 2003, 20:33
The neighbor's dog had rousted another homeless man from the stoop. How far he had come from those carefree yet ominous days in the land of his fathers! Here and now, in this strange new world of neon, concrete and dust under smog-entrenched sky, Tadao walked on sneakered feet to the corner bus stop, smelling the dingy smells of the morning: motor oil and coffee, Los Angeles dew evaporating under a newly rising sun. He wondered if some part of him shouldn't be embarrassed at his lot. Here he was a police inspector catching a bus to a job as a dock-loader, coming home smelling of fish guts. Then he remembered his mission, and also that such discipline and humbleness was necessary on his quest, to eradicate the ego, to submerge the self.

The text message was from his American contact. It said...

His reading was interrupted by two persons, one near, one far. Near: his friend and co-worker JP, headphones clinging despite a spongy afro, approached. Far, the woman he longed for entered the bakery in which she worked, her shapely gams barely visible under the hem of her skirt. So infatuated with the woman's pony tail was Tadoa that he barely heard JP speak in his amusing patois: "Whassup, papa-sawn?"

"Whass up," said Tadoa, grinning. He slapped hands with JP the way JP had taught him, "street" style, always careful lest JP add a new layer to the complicated exchange of sliding, knucle-knocking and gripping.

"Time to go to work," said JP. "I see your scope already at it."

"Yes. She is so lovely."

"When you gonna go talk to her?"

"When I am not so bad at English," Tadao confessed, although he wondered if he were telling JP the entire truth. Meanwhile, he discreetly slipped the mobile phone back into a pocket.

Tripitaka of AA
26th February 2003, 02:45
Francis Baddiel was known as "Frenchy". He had been since he was in kindergarten, when the Sisters of Divine Retribution caught him in a compromising situation with a young Novice named Daphne. Their extension of the classroom "name the parts of the body" to include a hands-on examination in the dark corners of the Stationery cupboard had been met with ferocious punishment. Frenchy would often make up different stories to explain the scar on his upper lip, depending on whom he was trying to impress. In truth, a single blow from Sister Augmentia's fist had been enough to mark him for life.

As he sat in the highly polished black limousine... parked in a side street next to pier 47... Frenchy ran a finger along the edge of his scar. He was checking to make sure that none of the tomato ketchup remained. Satisfied that he had successfully cleaned up, he squashed the various cardboard and styrofoam containers back into the Whopper carton and lobbed them out of the window into a dumpster. He was only mildly irritated when the shot rebounded onto the floor. when two Winos got in a fight to see who could get there first, it made him a little uncomfortable, but only because the "tall lanky one" had won the contest. Frenchy had figured the odds and expected "short fat guy with a beard" to get there first.

Frenchy licked the last few salt grains from his fingers and looked at the green door for the fifteenth time in a minute The sunlight glinted on the door handle suggesting that a hand had come to rest on the matching handle inside the building. Frenchy's fingers hands and arms moved smoothly and swiftly through the much rehearsed routine of weapon-assembly, while he maintained an unbroken line of sight with the door handle on the green door.

Charlie Kondek
26th February 2003, 13:55
Let's see if anybody bites...

Tadoa shovelled ice, blood and fish guts toward the grooves in the floor. It was a strange thing, to see, every day, the man you wanted to kill, and not be able to do a thing about it. Yukio Kanno walked carefully lest his expensive shoes be compromised. Tadoa's foreman kow-towed to him, lighting Kanno's cigarettes and eagerly jabbering at him in pidgin Japanese.

JP was rapping again, polishing his skills as "an MC." Tadoa shovelled detritus and watched as Kanno and his toadies concluded their business and headed for the green door in the far wall...

Tripitaka of AA
27th February 2003, 12:36
Wood splintering. Light beams shining through new holes that appeared like in short bursts across the wall. The sound of bodies thrown against the steel-pannelled walls by the force of the hits from a spray of automatic fire.

JP still had his mouth open and the broom in his hand as Tadao dragged him behind the Fork-Lift truck.

The mini-spotlights raced left and right across the external wall as the gunman chased down the running targets. As each burst of gunfire found its target, the final burst would leave no doubt about whether the victim had completed their journey to an afterlife. There were several short pauses while weapons were either exchanged or reloaded.

Tadao calculated a single shooter. From the angles it looked like ground level, probably a car.

Just as the shooting started, one person had come back in through the door, falling to the ground. The slumped figure appeard to regain consciousness, for it staggered up and began running into the warehouse, dripping fresh blood into the drainage channels.

Tripitaka of AA
27th February 2003, 12:39
Kanno reached out to Tadao and JP;
"Get me out of here and I'll see you get rewarded"

Charlie Kondek
27th February 2003, 16:08
"Now!" thought Tadao. "Now - just one twist of his neck..."

JP was staring at him, mouth agape. His wide eyes were the only thing that stayed Tadoa's hands. Angry, he looped an arm under Kanno's, almost like a scarf hold, and began to drag the man toward a door in the opposite wall. No hope for those expensive shoes now, he thought. He gripped JP by the sleeve and got his friend moving likewise.

Bullets zipped overhead. Feet seemed like inches - or centimeters like meters, what country was he in again? Something punched and zinged off the refrigerated walls. Then they were ought in a sunlit alley, standing the greaser up and inspecting his wounds.

Charlie Kondek
27th February 2003, 20:33
He'd lost a lot of blood by the time they got him into the limo.

"Driver," Kanno gasped, "the hospital. Driver! Takashi?"

"Uh-oh," said JP.

Takashi didn't seem to be moving. "JP, Tadoa said. "You have to do it."

"But..."

"Just move him, and drive."

JP wrinhled his forehead as he climbed over the front seat.

"Awwww, God..." he lamented. "K, this dude's dead!"

"DO IT!" he and Kanno barked, almost in unison. The occurence sickened Tadoa, but he set about staunching the blood flow anyway.

Tadoa didn't know where JP got the strength to pull the dead man from under the steering wheel, but the next thing he knew they were moving.

And angry bullets shattered the rear windshield of the limousine.

Mike Collins
27th February 2003, 23:03
"¤¤¤¤!" Frenchie cursed under his breath, "That little prick's got him some help" No matter, he'd wait, there were only so many places a guy with new ventilation was going to go from here, and he had great confidence that once he'd decided to do a deal, he'd be able to see it through. Just the same, it would have been much easier if these two little gutsuckers hadn't gotten themselves in the middle of his business.

And that's all it was-business. That's all it ever was.

Tamdhu
28th February 2003, 00:03
Tadao sighed in relief as the ER staff quickly assumed control, maneuvering Kanno onto a gurney and muttering back and forth as his condition was assessed and arrangements were made. For repair or burial Tadao didn't know and didn't care. Kanno's blood was still warm on the right side of his chest, where his tshirt stuck to his body as if splattered with hot chocolate. The man was tough, but not that tough.

Rest in pieces, Tadao thought to himself and then blanked his mind with the practiced ease of a budding Zen master. The trick now was to get past the rent-a-cop at the door and the hell out of the hospital before questions were asked.

"You need to answer some questions," chirped a stern-sounding little brunette, appearing as if on queue from nowhere.

"We didn't do nothing--", JP began, earning himself a quick on the ankle from Tadao.

"Listen," he began, trying hard to look like someone who hadn't just been in a firefight.

"¤¤¤¤," the girl said before he could continue. She twisted to look at the pager on her belt which vibrated in frantic little bursts. Her brown eyes rolled and then pegged them both with a glare. "Stay here," she said, and rushed off as quickly as she came.

"What in the hell do you think you're doin', kickin' me like that?" JP's voice rumbled quietly beneath his breath as they stood and shifted like boys in detention.

"I'll get us out of here, just let me--"

"Sir?"

Both men spun in alarm at the officious sounding voice. A young male intern stood, clutching a worn pack of cigarets between his thumb and forfinger with a look a cool distaste.

"I, uh, I don't smoke."

The look grew cooler and more distasteful still. "The patient requested that you be given these just before losing consciousness. Please take them, or I'll throw them away."

"Uh, thanks," Tadao said, taking the pack which felt strangely heavy in his hand.

The intern spun without a word and marched off, leaving Tadao to gape at his prize. Marlboro menthols in a hard pack, worn and slightly crushed around the edges.

"Yo," JP whispered. A tiny gesture of his head and the sudden grimness of his face spoke volumes. Turning slightly Tadao caught site of a goon in sunglasses, seriously overdress for the weather.

Company was arriving, and it wasn't the police.

Tamdhu
28th February 2003, 00:28
"I, uh, I don't smoke." <-- (Tadao says this, not the intern!)

Charlie Kondek
28th February 2003, 14:23
Nice twists!

Can't wait to see what happens next!

Tripitaka of AA
1st March 2003, 12:50
JP headed for the door to the stairwell but Tadao guided him straight toward the crowded lift lobby. The steady flow of all the sad and lonely, injured and damaged people of the city passed through the Emergency Room. The walls of the lift lobby would be abke to tell many a story if they could ever speak. The presence of this sea of unfortunates would act as better cover for a quiet escape than any echoing concrete stairwell.

Tadao helped JP negotiate the Elevator doors, surely these were mankinds greatest instrument of torture. They never stay open long enough to allow everyone to get in safely, always managing to close on the frailest and weakest old lady (if there is one with an IV on a mobile stand, then she'll be the one).

Tadao pulled his jacket across his chest to hide the blood splashes and hailed a yellow taxi. He and JP flopped into the back seat and Tadao felt the cigarette pack digging into his backside. Surely that was too solid to be just cigarettes.

Charlie Kondek
3rd March 2003, 16:07
ttt

Tamdhu
3rd March 2003, 16:59
"Oh man," JP laughed, drumming his pleasure with his fists on the cab's battle-scarred plexiglass divider. "That was sweet! Did you see that little ER chick lay into that wannabe Terminator motherf*cker? Like a mother hen guarding the nest. We were gone before they even knew we were there."

Tadao's neck ached from twisting to stare out the back window, looking for persuit that for now didn't seem to be there. He let himself relax with a sigh.

"They knew we were there, all right. They just didn't care. Not yet, anyways." He reached back and pulled out the cigarette pack, holding it up to scrutinize it like a doctor reading an x-ray.

"Hey!" A muffled voice shouted from the other side of the divider. "No smokink, my cab. No smokink!"

"Hey yo pipe down you god damned saheeb motherf*cker," JP launched back through the cash slot, giving it a punch for emphasis. "My man here's a specialist, you hear what I'm sayin'? I'm talkin' a hit-man who hits like a ton of bricks, you get it? I mean, we got us here a regular master of weapons of ass-destruction,--"

"JP..."

"--and he a vegetarian, a clean-livin', tofu-eatin'--"

"JP..."

"--meditatin' motherf*cker, you got that? And if my man wants to smoke, then--"

"JP!" Tadao broke the sermon with a shout. A hurt-looking JP turned in response while the hunched driver muttered and gesticulated angrily to himself.

"What'choo want, man? Can't you see I'm on a roll?"

"Look at this." Tadao shook a small, metallic object from the now open packet of cigarettes.

"You tellin' me Kanno hides his Walkman in a pack of smokes?"

"It's not a Walkman. I don't know what it is, but I know it's not a Walkman, and it's not a cell phone either." Tadao dropped the empty pack to focus on the object. Black anodized metal, featureless except for what appeared to be a small screen.

"That's a tv or something."

"I don't think so," Tadao mumbled thoughtfully. "Kanno was all business, no pl--whoa!"

The screen lit suddenly. A single character or logo revolved smoothly in the midst of a featureless blue. An even, slightly feminine voice said "password."

Tadao's eyes widened. "Where the hell's the speaker on this thing?"

"What are you talkin' about?" JP asked.

The voice spoke again, repeating the same word or request. It sounded to Tadao as if the woman were directly in front of him.

"Password. She's asking for a password."

"Who's asking for a password?"

"This...thing. The screen turned on right when I said Kanno's name and now it's asking me for a password."

JP stared at his friend with a look of critical concern. "It's been a long morning, T. I think you ready for some serious downtime."

Tadao frowned impatiently and handed the device to his friend. The moment he did so the screen went dark.

"Sh*t," Tadao said. "You try it. Say his name."

JP's look said what kind of sh*t is this mofo on, but he played along. "Kanno."

Tadao looked and saw the screen was still dark. "JP, I'm serious. The screen lit up and--"

JP waved him to silence, staring at the screen with widening eyes and tilting his head as if listening.

"That sh*t is f*cked up," JP said abruptly, pushing the device back into Tadao's hands. "That's some alien sh*t or something, man. Hey, YO," he shouted, pounding and pointing suddenly for the driver to pull over.

JP had been holding the device, and the entire time it had appeared dead to Tadao's eyes and ears.

"This is my stop." He fished in his pockets and handed Tadao a twenty. "I say dump that sh*t like a bag of bad crack and forget this ever happened. I'll talk to you later. Keep the change."

He slammed the door before Tadao could reply and waved a little gang salute as the driver sped from the curb.

Later, in his apartment, he placed the device on the little table beside his futon. In a moment, thinking better, he placed it behind the picture of his mother on the shrine. Tadao became suddenly conscious of his blood-spattered shirt as if she had pointed it out in person.

"I know," he said. "I'll be careful, like I promised." And go to school, and study hard, and be a successful and happy American, and not a gun-crazed gangster like his father.

Sighing heavily he stood and peeled the matted shirt from his body, balling it up and tossing it as he made for the shower, barely resisting the urge to fall down upon the futon as he was. He didn't see as it landed, the red-stained fabric bunched like rose beneath the sword on its stand.

On the shrine, her look was even sterner than before.

Tripitaka of AA
4th March 2003, 06:08
Oak desks. Hand-crafted. Built with loving care and attention to detail that was hard to find these days. Mori Tsuiyoshi drummed his fingers on the desk-top with increased irritation. His days at the top of the family had been marked by Order, Respect and Profitable Extortion. Hiccups in the execution of his orders, particularly those orders which included "execution", brought unwanted ripples to the smooth plane of his pond.

He liked the sound of his fingers on the desk. There was a deep resonance from the wood that let you know it held true power. The Shinto essence of the tree that had been felled to make it, had been retained by the skill of the craftsman who shaped it into this fine piece of furniture. Mr Mori stood up from the desk, and walked across the room to the Okotoma, where a large traditional scroll painting formed the tasteful backdrop to the full set of traditional Samurai Armour and katana set before it. The antique armour was of the highest quality and was obviously well looked after. This room had "taste" and "quality" written all over it, in the subtle elegance that the Japanese regard so highly. From a thin cabinet concealed behind a vertical section of Oak pannelling, Mr Mori drew out a Large Baseball Bat (signed by the players of the mighty Kyojin, from the year they won the championship) and returned to the crouching figure of Frenchy. Signalling to the two larger figures in the room (with one raised eyebrow), Mr Mori swung the bat with full force into the hard bone behind Frenchy's left ear. His head travelled forwards with the follow-through and struck the mighty oak desk across the bridge of his nose. His clothes now became a tangled cloth body-bag, for the lifeless carcase that fell to the floor.

The two large men in Italian suits, reacted instantly to remove the body and clean the blood from the furniture. When they left, one figure remained to hear Mr Mori continue...

Tamdhu
4th March 2003, 18:41
"Kanno's dead, alright. He kicked off about fifteen minutes after you bozos ditched him at the hospital."

Chief Inspector Drudge leaned his sweating, bulky form over the desk to scowl at Tadao, smelling strongly of the oily peanuts that were his only known source of sustenance. "Tell me again why you didn't call for backup yesterday to apprehend those goons that were after Kanno. If there's another gangster looking to take his place, they could've led us right to him."

"I told you," Tadao said, trying hard to sound respectful. "We were in a hospital, with innocent civilians all around. The men were armed--"

"You know this? Did you see their weapons?"

"Well...no, but it was obvious. I didn't want to risk an armed confrontation, and I didn't want to blow our cover."

"You're here to help us bust the asian mafia, and the sooner you do that, the sooner I can send you back. If it was up to me I'd send you back right now--"

The door behind Tadao swung open, admitting the sounds of the bustling precinct and a much-needed draft of almost fresh air. Drudge's latest tirade was nipped neatly in the bud. Harvey Cornell's gaunt face peered in, catching the eye of Drudge.

"Any word?"

"No, Chief," Harvey said. "His wife hasn't seen him since he left for work, yesterday morning."

Drudge dismissed him with a small toss of his head and Cornell withdrew, but not before offering the barest hint of a conspiratorial wink to Tadao. The door shut, leaving them in near silence except for Drudge's endless crunching and the groaning complaints of his chair.

"Your pal, JP hasn't checked in. Any ideas?" Crunch crunch crunch.

Tadao's face tensed in sudden concern. "He got out of the cab before me. I...I thought he was going home."

Drudge snorted. "He probably collapsed on all that Chink food you got him hooked on." More crunching. "Anyways, your gig at the fish plant is over. Take that gizmo you found over to the geeks in IT and contact your people in China, or Tokyo or wherever the hell it is you came from. I'll have a new gig for you in a couple of days."

Tadao knew from experience that a couple of days in American time could mean as much as a couple of weeks. "Chief Drudge, I know how they operate. I can find these people--"

"I said a couple of days," Drudge stormed. "In the meantime lay the hell off. I'll have a new cover for you then."

"Or a f*cking plane ticket," Tadao heard him mutter as he shut the door quietly behind him.

* * *

Her name was Nina. He knew, because that's what it said on her name tag where she worked the counter at Macie's Bakery Cafe. The IT people were too busy dealing with jammed printers to pay much heed to Tadao, so he had opted for a croissant and coffee instead. He could deliver the 'gizmo' personally to them later, perhaps after satisfying his own curiosity a bit further.

He had worked up the courage to actually sit at one of the little tables the cafe provided after placing his order at the counter, taking perhaps a little too much care not to mumble or stare at the floor. The poor girl probably thought he was nuts.

When she brought him his order, he found himself suddenly fascinated by the imitation wood-grain surface of the table.

"Here you go," she said. Thin silver bracelets jingled as a coffee-colored arm slid a plate and a cup in front of him. "If you need more cream or anything, just ask!"

Tadao looked up suddenly until he realized, after a few moments, that he was staring.

She scrutinized him in return and then nodded as if in recognition. "Hey, you're...friends with JP, right?"

The question and all it's potential outcomes hung like perfume in the air...Tadao's mouth opened. His mind was blank, but this time there was no Zen-like calm. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Just then, the theme from Mission Impossible burst out in a series of little beeps at his waist. The perfume and the potential vanished with the incessant trilling sounds of the cell phone. A quick glance showed no caller id.

"Oh, I, um, excuse me," Tadao said.

Nina smiled like a groovy, tie-dyed angel behind a curtian of beaded braids and swooshed gracefully back to the counter, greeting a pair of elderly gentlemen customers by name.

"Yeah," Tadao answered brusquely, poised and ready to shut down a cold-call for DSL in no uncertain terms. The voice he heard was JP's.

"Yo, pal. Whassup."

"JP! Where the hell are you?"

"I'm fine, bro, I'm fine. Just...layin' low after all the excitement. Layin' low and takin' in a ball game. A real mean ball game."

"I didn't know you were a Dodgers fan," Tadao laughed. "Seriously, you've gotta call in, man. They're looking for you."

"Yeah, I know." His friend's voice sounded strangely subdued. "Listen. We gotta meet."

"Anytime, JP."

"Tonight. The Roxxy at ten o'clock."

"Yeah, sure, JP, but I mean it, you've got to call in, and your wife, does she--"

The line went dead with a click.

Charlie Kondek
4th March 2003, 20:10
May I just say -

FRENCHY'S DEAD?!

Man, I wanted to see more of him!

Tamdhu
4th March 2003, 23:52
Wasn't that a song in the eighties?

Tripitaka of AA
5th March 2003, 05:42
Dr Connor leaned in close with the scissors and cut the end off the twine. "These stitches will need to come out in five days, make an appointment with my secretary as you leave", he turned to place the instruments in a kidney shaped bowl. He slid acoss the room without getting up from the chair, to scrawl some notes on a tattered and faded yellow card. "Make the appointment out for 'Brewster', and don't forget, you're a Golden Retriever".

Frenchy managed to roll sideways on the impossibly narrow table and swing his legs down to the floor, without screaming. The veterinarian had done a fine job on stitching his lip, but the pain from the rest of his body had easily masked the lack of anaesthesia. The bandages and cardboard splint across his nose made it difficult to judge whether his feet would reach the floor, so it was a huge relief to find that he could step down from the table without having to jump.

"Thanks again Doc" slurred Frenchy, through a face that had swollen to twice its normal size.

"Francis, one of these days I'm not going to have enough bandages in stock to put you back together again. Don't tell me how you got this way, just promise me that you won't forget to look both ways before crossing the road.. next time".

Charlie Kondek
5th March 2003, 14:51
Red dusk over L.A. Tadao tried to catch some rest between JP's call and their appointment at the Roxxy.

He dreamed of Nina. When he saw JP, he would ask him, "How do you tell a black woman you are infatuated with her?" JP laughed at him in the dream.

Tadao had become an efficient napper over the years, but that's not what woke him. What woke him was a soft beeping noise coming from the strange object on his nightstand. Also, a glowing red dot. He turned his head but tried not to show whoever was in the room with him that he was awake, at the same time reaching for the nunchaku under his pillow. A black clad shape was leaning over him, a shadowy hand inched toward the beeping device.

A quick crack and the hand withdrew. Tadao was out of bed now, putting a pillow in the face of the intruder. Now the nunchaku raked across the man's legs and he dropped.

Tadao turned and raised his weapon in time to stop a second intruder from slashing him with a baton. He bound the baton with the nunchaku's cord, yanked, at the same time crushing his opponent's knee with a stomping side kick. A third came for him - he slashed this one across the head with a backhanded swipe.

Tadao could hear footsteps in the hall, glimpsed their shadows under the door. He glanced around quickly - on the belt of one of his attackers was a device like a geiger counter that beeped in time with the device on the nightstand. He palmed both of these, stuffed them into the pocket of a jacket he took off the wall, slipped his feet into tennis shoes. Last, he fetched up his sword, still snug in its saya.

Attackers in the hall outside the bedroom. The first one caught the butt of Tadoa's tsuka in the diaphragm, then a hard, sharp blow of the tuska to the back of his neck. He drew on the second one, menaced him. He could see more of the shadows behind. As he held them at bay with the bare blade, Tadao slid a window open and slipped through it sideways.

A simple somersault landed him on the street. Blunt noises of breath came from the cowled figures above; blowgun darts reigned down upon him, several stopped by the leather coat. He fled. To the Roxxy.

Tamdhu
5th March 2003, 17:35
Tadao parked his Suzuki SV650 behind a dumpster in a narrow alley almost directly accross from the club. The Roxxy gleamed it's promise of neon decadence in smears on the rain-slicked tarmac of Hollywood Boulevard. He covered the bike with a dark plastic sheet and herded some cardboard boxes from a nearby pile around it. Satisfied that it was safely hidden for the moment, he crouched by the dumpster.

It was 9:45, still early in club-time, but there was already a line at the entrance. Tadao watched and found his suspicions confirmed. They were frisking at the door. Clean-shaven bouncers in black t-shirts patted down the ravers in a manner that was at once unobtrusive yet thorough. There was a pair of fire-doors in the rear, he knew, but they would be watched closely from within.

He could flash a badge and be in in a second, but anyone watching would be alerted, and after the encounter at his apartment, this meeting was taking on ever more sinister connotations. JP had never called in to the station, and as of an hour ago his wife was still frantic with worry as to his whereabouts. Not to mention the fact that baseball season didn't start for another month.

He had to get in and he had to be armed. It was a frontal assault or nothing.

Deep breath. Exhale. Focus.

No turning back.

He quickly pulled his belt from the loops of his jeans and replaced it without threading it through. Rising, he was now able to swing the katana around to the small of his back. Arching slightly, he knew from practice that he could hide it from view. Hiding it from the patting hands of the bouncers was another thing all together.

"I'll burn that bridge when I get to it," Tadao muttered to himself, recalling something he thought he had heard at the precinct. Threading the traffic and the milling, shouting crowds, he took his place at the end of the line.

"Hey!" a friendly voice shouted from the line ahead. Curious despite himself, he leaned outward for a look and was immediately struck by a sudden heady mixture of wonder and dread.

Nina.

Gorgeous, slinky Nina, smiling and waving with a small group of girl friends who eyed him appraisingly with varying degrees of suprise and skepticism. She turned to face the bouncers who smiled and chatted as if they knew her. The only pat-down she got was a tender, fatherly hug from a stocky black bodybuilder with greying hair. She spun again and flashed another smile at Tadao and pointed within, mouthing the words, "Meet me" before entering with her friends, giggling as a group when Tadao smiled weakly and waved in return.

A short while later it was his turn. The black man with the greying hair checked his advance as Tadao prepared mentally to manipulate the sword beneath his coat in the hopes of avoiding detection.

"Who we got here," the man intoned deeply, "Jet Li?" The other bouncers laughed. "Let me see some ID, there, Mr. Li."

Tadao reached into his coat for his wallet, letting the coat open widely to expose his front as clearly as possible, while keeping his legs together to hide the saya of the sword behind him.

The man took his card and eyed it critically. "Kato, eh? Hmmm. You still workin' for the Green Hornet?" A beat of stern silence was broken as the man exploded into laughter and handed Tadao his card. He leaned in closely with a hand on Tadao's shoulder, smelling faintly of cologne. "Some-bunny likes you," he rumbled softly, "and I think you know who I'm talkin' about."

Tadao stiffened, unsure of how to respond.

"And that some-bunny happens to be my niece. If you got a rocket in your pocket, or a stick in your pants..." His stare cooled and the hand on Tadao's shoulder tightened into a grab.

"You better watch how you use it or you just might lose it."

The stern look exploded into laughter again and the hand slapped Tadao's back nearly knocking the sword lose from his belt.

"Yes sir," Tadao stammered, and tried to smile. A second blow nearly knocked him down.

"Get a move on!" The man yelled and then disengaged to check the next person in line as if Tadao had never even been there.

The pulse from the dancefloor ahead pounded with increasing ferocity in his gut as he approached the ocean of moving, shouting multi-colored bodies and light.

He was in.

Tripitaka of AA
6th March 2003, 11:53
Frenchy raised a finger to the familiar shape of the scar on his lip, and ended up touching his chin by mistake. Nothing on his face was where it should be. Damn, it was sore.

When he saw the Japanese dude driving away on the motorcycle, then Mori's best men limping back to their MPV like they'd been in a war, he was impressed. It kind of made him feel a little less frustrated by his own failure. This guy wasn't just lucky, he was good. But he wasn't going to stay lucky, not if Frenchy wanted to get back into Mori's good books.

Frenchy had decided that he wanted to return to Mori with a trophy. He had already resolved to seek revenge for the beating he had been given, but not from afar, he wanted to do it from close-up. He wanted to get close enough to Mori to make him hurt. He was a patient man, he could wait for a long time if necessary. Mori would need to trust him, so that he could get his chance for pay-back. Bringing this Japanese dude to Mori on a plate would be just the kind of act that would be appreciated.

Now he was parked opposite the Roxxy, Frenchy was wondering just what was going on. Not the sort of evening he had expected. He went to scratch his ear and the pain made him wince. The wince hurt his face and the pain of that sent shivers through his body.

"I'm going to have to play it shmart" Frenchy slurred, breathing through his mouth and sounding like Darth Vader

Tripitaka of AA
6th March 2003, 11:58
JP had expected to feel pain by now. He was waiting for the beating, but it hadn't come. Years of working undercover had forced him to consider how he would deal with situations like this, but it wasn't how he had imagined. These captors were being so... well... nice!

Tamdhu
6th March 2003, 19:11
"A drink, perhaps, Mister Phillips? I was instructed to keep you entertained until the arrival of our...mutual friend." He pulled the cork from a bottle of Scotch and poured a shot into a small glass with a single cube of ice. The small, plush room dampened the music outside to a dull rhythmic thumping.

"No. Thanks." JP stared grimly into space, listening to the sound of the ice crackling in the man's glass. He sat alone on a stylish couch of chrome and black leather.

"We had hopes he might be delayed, but it seems he'll be coming after all. Are you sure you won't have a cocktail? Beer perhaps?"

"I don't drink on the job."

"Job?" The man almost managed to look genuinely suprised before grinning sarcastically beneath spiky bleach-blond hair. "This isn't a job, Mister Phillips. This is a night on the town. On us! Isn't that right, Mister Nice?" He tilted his head inquiringly at his friend who stood, in a matching black suit with the addition of a pair of dark sunglasses, leaning against the wall across from JP.

Mister Nice nodded sagely in response. "Mister Spike is correct. You should enjoy our hospitality. While you can." The two men shared a chuckle and Mister Spike sipped his drink with a small exhale of pleasure.

The gun and silencer held at the hip of Mister Nice never swayed an inch.

* * *

Blending with the growing crowd in the club Tadao felt a slight flush of relief that Nina, for the time being at least, was nowhere to be seen. He ducked into a darkened corner and surveyed the area.

No sign of JP.

He didn't know what else he might be looking for, but he found it nonetheless on the balcony above the dancefloor where a card-carrying goon in sunglasses surveyed the crowd. Tadao looked down and to the right and spotted a staircase leading up, roped off as Private. Another suited goon in shades stood sentry at the bottom like a gnarled but extremely well-dressed oak. Dancers and patrons alike gave his hulking presence a wide berth on instinct.

Bouncers don't wear sunglasses at night, he mused grimly to himself. Goons do.

Tadao steeled himself and made straight for the foot of the stairs. The goon stiffened, almost seeming to inflate even further in size as he approached.

"I'm here to see JP."

The man stared, his face unreadable behind the dark, wrap shades. A pale, pasty hand the size of Tadao's head reached up slowly to a small microphone on the lapel of his suit.

"This is Mister Small," he said in a high thin voice grossly at odds with his size. "The guest has arrived."

A moment passed as an acknowledgement was recieved by the tiny bead in his ear and then the hand lowered slowly and unhitched the rope. Tadao slid past the man and up the stairs, hearing the rope click back into place behind him. He drifted warily up the stairs, reaching a small semi-private lounge at the top where he was signaled to hold by another goon. At the other end of the lounge was a door at which yet another guard knocked once. The door opened a crack and then shut after a brief exchange of words.

Tadao spread his coat with an irritated scowl as he was patted down. Treating the pat-down as a series of strikes in a slow motion fight in his mind, he let himself move ever so slightly in response to the guard's groping so as to protect the sword from discovery, almost as if he were protecting his own spine from being broken. A tiny part of his brain hooted with delight when the pat-down ended with the sword undiscovered.

The man pointed to the doorway, which Tadao approached.

"Welcome!" the guard said, smiling obsequiously while reaching accross to open the door for Tadao. He paused suddenly, with his fingers just touching the knob.

"A little warm for a coat, wouldn't you say?"

Tadao stared, unsure of the man's intent, and then forced himself to relax.

"I guess you're right," he said, and slowly shrugged off the long coat, letting the katana fall from his belt at the same time. He lay the coat on the floor by the wall, swinging it smoothly as he did so, keeping it stretched out lengthwise to conceal the sword. He had no idea if the man was on to him or not.

"I'm always right," the man said with a leer as he opened the door.

Tadao entered, barely supressing a smirk of his own. He saw the Hispanic man smiling in welcome, and saw the gun at his hip. The door shut with a thump behind him, deadening the sounds of the club, and he saw JP.

"JP," Tadao almost shouted. He sighed in relief despite himself, to see his friend still in one piece.

"T'sup, bro?" his friend replied. They exchanged their elaborate handshake bringing the barest hint of a smile to JP's haggard and unshaven face.

"How touching, how very touching," the blond man said. "The brave warriors meet again at long last, blah blah blah blah blah--please don't bore me. Sit down and let's get to the point."

He gestured to the couch with his drink and Tadao sat down slowly next to his friend.

"Kato, right? Kato Tadao? Yes, well, it seems my boss has taken a great deal of interest in you, Kato. A great deal of interest." He sipped at his whiskey. "Isn't that right, Mister Nice?"

Mister Nice nodded slowly. "That's correct, Mister Spike. A great deal of interest. A great deal of interest in Kato."

"And all we've been hearing for the last 24 hours is 'Kato this' and 'Kato that', am I wrong, Mister Nice?"

"You are correct, Mister Spike."

"And now we finally get to meet...Kato!" Mister Spike made an elaborate gesture of introduction with his arm. "Tada! Isn't this great, Mister Nice?"

"Truly fantastic, Mister Spike. Truly fantastic."

"So what it comes down to is this: Mister Nice and I, and some of our friends are all going to have a little get-together, and you guys are invited." He flung his index fingers in their direction like a pair of pistols, nearly slopping his drink in the process.

JP and Tadao watched him in stony-eyed silence.

"And then," he continued, gesticulating with rising mock enthusiasm, "we're all going to meet--you guessed it--Mister Big! And at this party, you guys are going to be the center of attention, because you, Kato, are going to give something very special to Mister Big which is going to make him very happy. Something that you should never have recieved in the first place. Something that should have been his all along. Eh?"

He drained his glass with a noisy slurp and set it down on a nearby shelf, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"And in return, Mister Big will extend you the kindness of not pulling you each apart, piece by piece with a pair of rusty vice-grips. I mean, cool or what? Seriously, is that cool or what?"

"That is very cool," said Mister Nice, nodding in satisfaction. "Very cool indeed."

Tamdhu
6th March 2003, 19:55
"Hey, Smally," Frenchy said to the giant at the foot of the stairs. "Open the gate. I wanna have a few words with that chink."

Mister Small stood, impassive and silent beneath the wash of colored lights filtering in from the dance floor.

"Come on, I ain't got all day. Open sesame, for Christ's sake."

He paced back and forth to a response of stony silence.

"Look," he stopped and faced the man squarely only to stare down the buttons on Mister Small's chest. "I been pals with Mori a helluva lot longer than you, pal. If you piss me off, you'll piss him off, get it?"

The shake of Mister Small's enormous bald head was infinitesimal, but the sense of denial was deafening.

"I don't need this sh*t," Frenchy muttered with a grimace. He turned away and all but pulled at his hair for a moment, then spun back with a snarl. "Just get out of my way you f*cking behemoth."

He shoved at the giant to push past and force his way up the stairs. A massive arm swung lazily upwards and greeted Frenchy's face with a soft thump. He was airborne a full second before hitting the floor and sliding several feet.

"I'm sorry, Mister French," the large man piped. "Your name is not on the list."

"Oh Jesus," Frenchy muttered, flat on his back and watching the play of colored lights on the ceiling as it spun. The pain rose slowly but oh so surely, thumping and pounding in time with the music.

Charlie Kondek
11th March 2003, 17:03
Tadao remembered an old proverb: "Run from a knife; charge a gun." Samurai maxim? No. Jimmy Hoffa. He turned to JP as if the gun in Mr. Nice's hand were no more than a partridge and said, "Excuse, please. Who is Mr. Big?"

"Mr. Big?" said JP, tightly. "He's new to us. He may be an American associate of Mori's, or he may be a rival."

"I beg your pardon," interupted Mr. Spike. "It's not good manners to exclude other people from your conversations, particularly one's hosts. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Nice?"

"Indeed I would, Mr. Spike," said the gunman by the door.

"Uh, yes..." said Tadao in his best Mr. Moto, hoping to be disarming. "Please, excuse. I must speak with my friend. Perhaps you should just continue drunkening."

"What did you say?"

"Uh," JP said. "Kato, be cool, man."

Tadao did his best to show he was ignoring the man.

"Eh, what do you think? If Mori made Kanno killed for the device in my pocket, then is it Mori or Mr. Big who now tries to return of the device?"

JP: "I don't think this is the time..."

"Is problem?"

Mr. Spike growled, "Hey, karate kid. Nobody gave you permission to speak. All will be explained when Mr. Big gets here. And I think I'm going to enjoy 'explaining' things to you very much."

"Ah, so," said Tadao to JP. "So sorry."

He stood. The gun in Mr. Nice's hand leapt to attention as Tadao took up the whiskey bottle and poured Mr. Spike a drink.

"Excuse, please. I am trying to talk with my friend. Here is drink for you."

Mr. Spike's eyes narrowed.

* * *

"Geez, Mr. Frenchy, I'm sorry," piped Small, bending over to help Frenchy up.

Frenchy allowed himself to be hoisted by the gorilla, wrapping his arms around Small's waist for support.

"Cripes, Small. You really know how to hurt a guy. Don't you know I'm not much of a tough guy without a gun?"

"Yeah, I know," Small said. "You kinda forced my hand there, though didn't you? There, lemme buy you a drink. Hey!"

Frenchy jammed Small's gun into Small's belly, thumbing the safety off. "Fortunately, I'm a better pikcpocket than a pugilist. Sorry, pal. Act natural, now. What say you take me upstairs and show me the sights?"

"Oh, this ain't good," Small squeaked.

Tripitaka of AA
11th March 2003, 20:26
JP watched as Tadao gambled with their lives. It worked in the movies, but this was quite a ways south of Hollywood. If the funny business fooled the bad guys it would probably fool JP too. He knew enough about poker to keep a straight face though. He worked hard to keep alert while not showing it.

How many people in the room? Where were they all standing? How many had already shown themselves to be armed? Did Tadao have a plan? What would be the signal? Will I know what to do?

The knock came at the door and three people looked at the door. Tadao and JP had eyes elsewhere. That was as good a signal as any.

JP said "geronimo" and Tadao thrust a whisky bottle into an eye socket. What happened next could only be established by freeze-frame examination of the CCTV tape at LAPD HQ. It took less time than a good sneeze, but resulted in a call for five ambulances and casualties were taken to Emergency Rooms at three different hospitals.

It went like this

Tamdhu
11th March 2003, 23:34
The moment JP uttered the word, Tadao smiled broadly and swept into motion. Mister Spike swatted the bottle aside angrily just as it reached his eye and reached out for Tadao's neck with both hands. Almost blissfully, Tadao left the man grasping at thin air as he maneuvered forward and then left, pivoting at the last moment to sweep the man's outstretched arm downward with his own and then upwards again where his two hands met with a clap.

"You f*cking little--" Spike began and then cut short as he found himself interrupted by a knife hand shot to the throat and the crackling sounds of his own elbow.

"No, no, I insist," Tadao said. He clenched the armbar more tightly as Spike resisted and then dropped his left knee to the floor. Spike's jaw met his upraised right knee with a sickening crack as he plunged forward. "This one's on the house." Letting the man slump face first into the floor he pivoted to pin the man's shouder to the floor with his left knee while maintaining pressure on the elbow with his hip and chest.

JP wasn't faring too poorly either, although it didn't look it at first glance.

He was flat on his back on the floor in front of the couch where Mister Nice towered above him with the gun. On the floor and in control in classic breakdancing style.

He spun.

He dazzled.

And then he jammed the heel of his booted foot firmly into the man's crotch.

Tadao winced.

Mister Nice squeaked.

The gun clattered to the floor.

"Sucker," said JP just as the door burst open.

Frenchy surveyed the scene.

"Holy sheep sh*t!"

His eyes went wide at the spectacle as Mister Nice lowered himself slowly into a slowly tightening fetal ball on the floor.

"Whoa," said JP. "Who invited Frankenstein?"

"Nobody move," Frenchy said, suddenly remembering the gun in his hands. "Nobody move!"

"We're cool," JP said softly, and then added with a smirk. "Ain't we, T?"

"We're cool," said Tadao. The man beneath him struggled with a sudden growl. Tadao silenced him by leaning his upper body forward, all but tearing the man's arm from it's socket. The growl became a hiss of extreme pain as his body tensed and became very still. "Very cool."

"Hey!" Frenchy shouted suddenly at JP, who was furtively covering Mister Nice's fallen gun with one leg. "I shaid no funny shtuff! Kick it over here, and put your handsh up."

"Did he say that? Did he say no funny stuff?" JP asked, looking quizically at Tadao.

"I don't think so," Tadao said, shaking his head. "I think he said 'nobody move' or something like that."

"Shut up. Both of yesh!" Frenchy winced at the sudden pain in his jowls from shouting.

JP sighed in resignation and kicked the gun over.

"Pick it up, Shmily," Frenchy said to an unseen figure behind him. The door opened further and a second man entered, looking cautiously from face to face. It was the man who had opened the door for Tadao, and told him to remove his coat.

"Okay, Frenchy," the man said, stepping in and stooping to pick up the gun with a distinct look of distaste. "But I don't know...are you sure Mister Big put you in charge?"

"Yeah he put me in charge," he barked and then added with a mumble, "Or at least he will if he knowsh whatsh good for him."

Smily paused as he reached for the gun. "But Mister Small said--"

"Mister Shmall hash been relieved of duty. Now shuddup and do ash I shay, and keep that gun trained on theesh two bashtards. We're gonna take'm to Mishter Big pershonally."

* * *

"So where's Romeo," Leeza asked, snapping her gum and staring expectantly at her friend and then letting her gaze drift over Nina's shoulder to the surging throng on the dance floor. The cage dancers were being lowered from the ceiling as they always were, to hoots and cheers from the crowd, signifying the official start of another endless Friday night at the Roxxy.

"I don't know," Nina said with a frown. "I kept sorta hoping he'd sneak up on me on the dance floor."

"Yeah," Leeza barked with a laugh. "And then sneak into your bed for the night and then out the door for good!"

"No," Nina defended. "I don't think he's like that."

"They're ALL like that, girl." The other girls nodded and clucked their approval.

"Oh my god girls check it out..." Leeza stood still, eyes locked on the dancefloor.

"What, is Cheryl cage-dancing tonight?" Nina shook her head reproachfully. "I don't see how she can do that--"

"That ain't Cheryl, girl," Leeza said, pointing.

Nina looked along with the others. 3 of the cages contained the expected female dancers, gyrating teasingly while clad in S&M fetish gear. Paper streamers tied to fans licked at their feet like tongues of flame.

The fourth cage held something entirely different. An enormous pasty-looking man in boxers stood lameley inside with a leather mask covering his entire head. His hands were cuffed above him, while a young vixen in black leather strutted and teased him with a whip.

"Now that's the way to treat a man," Leeza said.

Nina slumped, and let her face fall into her hands as the girls laughed.

"I can't believe my father works here," she moaned. "I'm going to the bar. Do you girls want anything?"

"Gin and tonic"

"Same here," another girl said.

"Me? I'll have me a white Russian," Leeza said to a fresh burst of laughter.

* * *

"I'm just picking up my coat," Tadao said, scooping it up and slinging it over his shoulder in one smooth motion.

"Jusht be quick about it," Frenchy said. "No funny shtuff."

Moments later they trooped down the stairs as a group, with Tadao at the lead covered by Frenchy. The door man and another guard stayed to the rear to cover JP. Tadao walked slowly and stayed close as instructed. He felt the handle of the katana beneath the leather of the coat on his shoulder. With a single motion, he felt sure he could dip, let the coat fall, turn and--

"Whoa!" he said, as a young girl collided with him, focusing far too intently on the four plastic cups cradled precariously in her hands.

"Oh my god!" she said with a shout as the cups jumped and then tumbled, decorating Tadao with their contents. "I--I'm so sorry!"

Their eyes met, and for a moment the music and lights faded to stillness. Abject horror on one side and cold calculation on the other both melted into looks of gape-mouthed suprise.

"Nina?" Tadao said dumbly.

"You!" she said.

"Hey!" shouted Frenchy, as the music and lights returned with a lurch. He poked Tadao's back with the muzzle of the gun in his pocket.

"Take a hike you dumb shlut. We gots businish."

Tripitaka of AA
12th March 2003, 05:47
Nina was startled by the rudeness, and her look of disgust attracted the attention of Jerome, as he was watching from the bar. His brother Joshua had joined him from door-duty for a 10 minute break, but they were discussing the unusual activities of the Management Team when they saw the procession descending from above.

The two larger than life men, both greying, both bodybuilders, moved swiftly through the heaving mass of Friday night revellers. It was as if Moses was crossing that Red Sea again, as people shrank back from their aura. Security at the Roxxy had been provided by Jerome's "Big City Limits" for just a few weeks, but the dancer's all knew their reputation.

Tadao recognised Joshua as the man who had given him the friendly advice as he arrived. He knew that the relationship to Nina would be likely to influence the way this scene looked. The other mountain bore a family resemblance to close to be an accident. Tadao weighed up the likely consequences...

Tripitaka of AA
12th March 2003, 07:39
To be honest, the thugs didn't have the energy for much of a fight, not after their brief but effective encounter with JP and Tadao. Frenchy shrieked like a girl when Jerome pulled him across the dancefloor by his nose. If Fenchy hadn't fired the gun through his jacket then no-one would have been hurt except him. As it was, the small burst of gunfire hit the floor, his leg and the glass screen which formed the side panel of the staircase. The shattered glass from the stairs spread across the dancefloor like a bucketful of ice and in the panic that ensued more than a dozen dancers collided with each other and the polished wooden floor.

On hearing the gunshot Joshua felled the two suits and was about to lay down JP and Tadao when Nina stood in front of them and did her best "human shield" impression. He spun to join his brother, in time to see Frenchy back on the floor that he had graced once already this evening. This time he was face-down with a rather large black man kneeling on his neck while the recently fired weapon was being removed from between three fingers (freshly broken, still quivering).

Tadao had read the scene perfectly, and with one arm had held JP still, while the other had pushed Frenchy towards Jerome. He had made a friendly smile to Nina just in time for it to be seen by the brothers, while JP had cast a nervous glance at the two thugs behind him. As the thugs reached forward to push Nina away, they found their arms being yanked forward with just enough force to pull them on to an incoming black missile. JP and Tadao remained as still and unthreatening as possible, which seemed to work just fine. Tadao made a mental note to thank the ancestors for giving him the wisdom and the courage to use his skills wisely.

While the staff dialled 911 and J & J restrained the thugs, Nina and Leesa took JP and Tadao to the kitchens and out to the alleyway at back. By the time the ambulance sirens got close enough for the blue and reds to light up the alley, Leesa had returned inside and the other three were already pulling up at the driveway to JP's house.

Tripitaka of AA
16th March 2003, 10:15
Kirsty Philips nervously hung the dishcloth on the back of a kitchen chair as the Camaro and the motorbike pulled up at the back gate. She didn't recognise either vehicle and since JP had been out of contact for more than 24 hours, she wasn't expecting company.

As the back door opened and JP walked in, Kirsty gave him a subdued hug and slipped a .38 into his pocket. She had an Uzi in the drawer to her side and the pump-action was loaded and safety off, clipped to the underside of the dining table.

JP smiled warmly and said "Relax honey, these are good people".

A split-second to feel relief, then joy, then straight on into full-blown fury;
"Don't you EVER do that to me again you sorry excuse for a man"

"Hey, hey, he-"

"No call!, No contact from your boss! No hints that it might be a long shift! I was worried sick!".

Her accent always returned to the streets of Glasgow when she was upset. Tadao was impressed by the power of her stance and the rapid movements of her jabbing fingers as she poked JP in the ribs. It had begun as a piece of aggressive attack, but was melting into a warm and affectionate scuffle between consenting adults. Oblivious to the people around them now, Kirsty gave JP a bear hug and buried her face into his chest.

Tadao had often wondered what Kirsty would look like, having heard some of JP's stories, but he had been oh so wrong. This 5' tall blond white woman with a scottish accent bore as much resemblance to Tadao's idea, as it did to Nina, who was just managing to keep her jaw closed. She was finding this all rather disconcerting. Her thoughts about JP and the Jap' guy from the fish warehouse, had never included Undercover Police operations, Gangs, kidnap and extortion, let alone midget scottish wives with a strong physical presence.

Tripitaka of AA
18th March 2003, 06:48
"..and that's when Nina saved our bacon" Finished JP, having brought Kirsty up to date. And Nina too, for she was still rather confused by all the new impressions she was having to form... these were the same cute pair of lunkheads from the docks, weren't they!

"So what happened to the Gizmo then? The oodgy-woodgy thinguma-tron..." Said Kirsty, faking interest.

"That was taken away by the men in suits" said Tadao, slumping down in his chair, as the realisation set in. Without this lead, there was nowhere to go. The only consolation was that this would take them off the target-list for the LA goons, hopefully.

"Ahem" coughed JP, as he produced the Gizmo from his pocket.

"How did you..?"

"Let's just say, I wasn't always a cop"

Kirsty groaned as JP celebrated his perfect rendition of the Eddie Murphy line from "Beverly Hills Cop", with a whoop and high-fives all round. It was a quote that JP was over-fond of, but she had to admit, it was rather appropriate. She got up to offer more coffee to everyone, wondering how she could entertain two guests with just an old lettuce and three tins of tuna in the cupboard. Always of a practical mind, Kirsty had no time for the romantic escapades of adventure that JP seemed to get such a kick out of.

Tripitaka of AA
18th March 2003, 08:03
Mori tapped the button on his loudspeaking telephone to end the call. He still sat at the front of his luxury desk chair like a keen student eager to impress. It made him seem even more austere, hard and imposing, that he never ever looked relaxed enough to slouch. In fact the shots to his chest and the stab wound to his hip that he had recieved back in the Eighties were the main reason for his posture lacking a certain flexibility, but he never mentioned that, for it would reveal a weakness that he preferred hidden, from friend or foe alike.

He closed his eyes and pondered. An outsider may have mistaken it for meditation, but Mori had never been one for Zazen, even when he was forced to do it at High School. He was simply trying to focus his thoughts on his next move. This "chess game" against Nishimoto, using real people as pieces, was reaching a conclusion. Nishimoto had sacrificed some of his best men to take out the threat of Kato (whom Mori thought of as his Knight), but Mori had also lost his castle (Frenchy) and several pawns (the atackers at Kato's house). Mori frowned as he tried to work out the analogy better...

--------------------------

Nishimoto waddled down the hotel hallway like a giant balloon in New York on St Patrick's Day. Small guests and staff had to lean back against the walls as he passed. A stream of assistants and suited bodyguards flanked his progress. He strolled into the Presidential Suite and beckoned for an Oshibori hand-towel. His enormous frame came to rest at the window, surveying the panorama of Los Angeles by Dawn's early fug (although it was now 11am, the sun was only just burning through the morning haze).

"Where is it now?" he rasped in a high-pitched wheeze. This great mountain of a man, known around the world as "Mr Big", spoke with a softness and frailty that was completely at odds with his appearance. It also concealed from first impressions, the tremendous capacity for cruelty and hatred that pulsed through these cholesterol-packed veins. He had a Designer handkerchief in his hand which he placed on the small desk while he took the Oshibori and wiped his face with the scalding hot towel. His Yukata revealed a trace of sweat on his back, from the exertion of walking from the elevator. Even this light dressing gown style of garment could feel too hot, when you are carrying around the weight of three men.

Charlie Kondek
18th March 2003, 14:04
Frenchy wanted a cigarette. Badly. They knew that, though, so they would be trading them for leads, trying to trip him up. Bastards. On the one hand, he liked being interrogated by cops - he liked making fun of them. On the other hand... he wanted a cigarette. Badly.

Sgt. Lefavre's pack sat on the table near him, but the good sgt. guarded them like a bulldog. Frenchy tried not to look at it.

"One more, time, French," Lefavre growled. "You got the gun into the club how?"

"I told you, I didn't bring a gun into the club. I took the gun away from the goon who tried to muscle me."

"And that was...?"

"Some guy."

"Some guy from...?"

"From around."

"And his name is...?"

"I don't remember."

Lefavre smiled softly, shook a cigarette loose and stuck it under his moustache. Frenchy's manacled hands fell over the zippo on the table. Lefavre, missing the trick, began patting his pockets.

"I have to confess, French, that I'm more than a little surprised your usual cadre of lawyers hasn't shown up to spring you. Could it be you're on the outs with your employer?"

"Why should an import/export company involve themselves in a barroom scuffle that is clearly not my fault?" Frenchy said.

"Where's my damn lighter?" said Lefavre, mostly to himself.

"Anyway, Sgt. How long you gonna keep me here for a minor scrape before you charge me with something? You gotta know, you can't get at Mr. Mori through me. Even a public defender can spring me from this bush-league stunt."

"Public defender? Why did you say that...? Has your relationship - "

"LEFAVRE. You're boring me. I only meant this was small time, and you should think about letting me go."

"How'd you like to spend a night in jail?"

"Suits me. I might actually get a decent night's sleep. Hey, how about a smoke?"

"Eat ¤¤¤¤."

Frenchy slipped the zippo into his lap and let it slide down his leg, where it fell neatly into his cuff.

Maybe this wasn't so bad, after all.

Charlie Kondek
18th March 2003, 14:22
It began to be clear that their strategy session had exhausted its usefulness when Tadao's head bobbed for perhaps the seventh time and he shook himself out of sleep.

"Look," JP said, still probing the matte-black device. "We ain't gonna get anywhere else tonight. Let's grab a couple hours sleep and continue this at HQ tomorrow, okay?"

"I should get Nina home..."

"No ye don't," Kirsty insisted. "Nina's already half asleep."

Nina: "Wha - ?" She'd called her menfolk and let them know she was okay; they hadn't been happy about it, but she assured them somehow. All this cop talk had excited her at first. Now it made her sleepy.

"Yeah, just crash here, both of you," JP said. "We have plenty of room."

And so they bedded down on couch cushions and the futon mattress, making a pallet on the floor with assorted sheets and blankets. RZA and GZA, the family cats, curled near Nina, looking as graceful and reposed as she. Her face in the last of the moonlight seemed heavenly. Suddenly, Tadao wasn't so sleepy. In fact, as he lay a few feet from her propped up on one elbow, he felt like he could look at her forever.

When she spoke, it nearly startled him out of his skin.

"Can't sleep?"

The darkness his his blushing.

"Crazy night, huh?"

"Yes. Crazy. I am so sorry to have involved you."

"I'm always up for an adventure. Listen, I know you got other things on your mind, but can I ask you something?"

He swallowed. "Yes."

"When were you gonna introduce yourself, and talk to me?"

Tadao bowed his head and smiled. He thought to himself, "Banzai!" and plunged ahead: "I have wanted to approach you for a very long time."

"I know."

"I have been afraid. Because I am Japanese. Because I do not speak your language so well. Because, except for JP, I have no experience
in talking to Americans."

"Yeah, JP's kinda special." She chortled.

"And I have no experience in talking to American women. Especially American black women. I felt if I tried to talk to you, my words would... stumble."

He was stumbling now.

"I think that's sweet," she said. "And I'm glad you told me so honestly."

He only nodded.

She said, "I don't want you to be afraid of me."

Suddenly she was near him, on the cushions with him, her arms wrapped around him. "I want to be your friend," she said. "There's something about you I admire. And trust. I want you to feel safe with me. And I want to feel safe with you. Will you just hold me? And sleep with me for a while?"

In his pursuit of the martial arts, Tadao had tortured his body and mind many times, strenuously pushing it into new situations that would temper it, sharpen it, harden it. None of those experiences compared to what he felt now: his lust for the woman in his arms combined with the tenderness he felt, the anxiety of this close contact clashing against his desire to shelter her and love her.

She fell asleep. Eventually, so did he.

Tripitaka of AA
19th March 2003, 07:38
When Tadao woke in the deepest part of the night, and heard the sound of two people breathing, he snapped alert and began reaching for the nunchaku beneath his pillow. Three heartbeats later he noticed his arm was wrapped across the torso of a living, breathing, fragrant woman. On the fifth heartbeat he realised that this was not his dead wife Sachiko, but Nina the first woman he'd been this close to in four long years.

She looked nothing like Sachiko, she didn't walk like her, talk like her or even speak the same language. Tadao had been wondering how he could feel so attracted to someone so unlike the soulmate of his younger years. In truth, she was the first woman that he had been able to see as an individual, the first that didn't fail in all the comparisons to Sachiko.

Tadao listened to the rhythm of her breathing. He bathed in the scent of her perfume, diluted now with the natural odours of sweat and coffee, it smelled like heaven to him. It was the end of a long night, but he did not fear the dawn. She was laying with her back to him, snuggled in close, like spoons in a drawer, her curves applying light pressure across his thighs and chest. His arm was across her midriff in a protective embrace. Tadao was amazed at her trust in him, and flattered. But it felt right, somehow, and this reassured him. She was wearing one of JP's shirts, just like in the best movies, only this was one from JP's past, not Rock Hudson. Instead of a plain white cotton shirt, Nina was wearing a black silk shirt with tiger print embroidery and wide lapels. Kirsty had found her some old grey cotton jogging pants but the room was warm enought that Nina had discarded them and her naked thighs were now resting directly on Tadao's. His hand lay across her navel and he could feel the belly-ring gemstone rubbing against his wedding band as she breathed.

As he lay awake, thinking about Nina, drinking her presence. Nina dreamed of a tall black stallion, ridden by a fearsome Samurai, wearing full armour and a scary war-mask. He reached down toward her and lifted her up onto the saddle in front of him. She reached up to remove the mask and it fell away to reveal the softened friendly features of Tadao. He smiled and held her tightly, as he wheeled the mighty horse around and they galloped off into the setting sun...

Nothing happened. They both slept some more, and in the morning they both knew that "nothing" had meant everything. If anything more carnal had developed, they both knew it would have been just a lustful roll in the hay, without any soul. That both adults had been content to share each others warmth without descending to the animal desire to copulate, impressed them both. This was a relationship where there was going to be time... sometimes you want to read a good book more slowly, to really enjoy it.

Neither of them had noticed the creaking joists and trembling walls that echoed the thunderous passion that had filled the Master Bedroom that night. Kirsty and JP had renewed their acquaintance with more lust for life than ever. Both of them had enjoyed giving and recieving to the max, and the bed-springs had been subjected to a full road-test. When they came down to the kitchen next morning, they were still finding it hard to keep their hands off each other.

Tripitaka of AA
23rd April 2003, 11:56
"Just then Captain Zarg of the Dorvian Federation landed his Cruiser and leapt from the Airlock door with Zap-Blaster in his hand..."

Tripitaka of AA
23rd April 2003, 11:59
Kirsty flipped the channel and finally chose a Breakfast News bulletin presented by two cardboard cutouts with too much make-up .They were only slightly more human than Captain Zarg, but at least they didn’t have a cute robot side-kick that tweeted and bleeped like a demented canary. They were soon replaced by a blond Weather Presenter who stood before a rooftop view of downtown smog and cheerfully predicted a day of “Highs, Dries and way too many Flies”, a bit like a demented canary, thought Kirsty.

Kirsty shook the frying pan to keep the bacon from sticking. Then she did the same to the small saucepan that held buttered mushrooms. She checked the grill pan and turned one of the tomato-halves, and rotated all the sausages. The kettle clicked to signal the appropriate temperature, while steam billowed up and obscured the view from the window.

She gave a hearty yell from the kitchen door “Breakfast is reeeeeeaaaaadyyyyyyyyy!”, then took the pre-heated plates from under the grill-pan and began serving the items. Toast popped up just on cue and the butter was nice and soft in the dish already on the table. She warmed the teapot, then filled up with boiling water and stirred in five teaspoons of loose leaf tea (Taylor’s Yorkshire Tea) as Kato and Nina peered around the door with eyes wide open and nostrils activated.

“Is this what they call the Full English?” said Nina, eyeing the feast like she’d not been fed for a week.

“Not in this house! Its SCOTTISH and don’t you forget it! Those pathetic English Sassenachs stole our land and stole our history, but they’ll never take our breakfast!”

Kato and Nina took a second and a half before they realised that Kirsty was not being entirely serious. When J.P. arrived he said “What? No blue face paint this morning? How can you call yourself a true Scot!”.


The freshly brewed tea was poured into plain china cups, and the four new friends sat down to a breakfast that reminded them just how good it could be.

It would have been better if they could have eaten more than one mouthful before the kitchen door flew across the room and the air filled with clouds of grey gas and smoke. Kato and J.P. leaped from their chairs but it only made them land harder as the near-instantaneous effects of the gas dropped them to the floor. Kirsty tried to reach the weapons beneath the table but only got as far as her knees, while Nina slumped forward and her face ended up resting on two rashers of bacon and a grilled sausage.

Tripitaka of AA
26th April 2003, 14:28
Kato regained consciousness with a bump, but managed to keep limp and conceal his recovery. He studied the details of his environent, sense by sense. Fabric and solvent smells mixed with diesel fuel-spills. Rough fabric in large rolls pressed into his face tied with string. Diesel truck engine, echoing in a cargo space about the size of a large van, breathing from several bodies, only two voices chatting, the rest sleeping. The taste of carpet dust and dried blood in his mouth.

Then he opened one eye and got visual confirmation. He was in a Carpet Truck, with the still unconscious JP. Nina and Kirsty. Two guys in suits were sitting uncomfortably on piles of carpet at the front of the storage space, next to a small window that opened to the Driver's cabin, showing three seated up front. The bump followed a sharp turn off the main road, now they were gliding on a gravel drive. The Driver called out "OK, we're here. Time to get the sleeping beauties up for Mr Mori. He wants them taken to the Ground Floor Dining Room."

The Truck rolled to a halt, and rocked left and right as each of the large gentlemen alighted from the vehicle. The vertical sliding tailgate shot to the ceiling like a roller-blind and the two suits muttered about "whose turn in the back next time...". They made a point of brushing themselves down and removing as much of the lint and fibres that they could find.

Kato could see Sakura in full bloom. Blossoming Cherry trees stood in an avenue, lining the private drive that had brought them from the highway. Sunshine warmed his face and he could hear grunts from JP as he was being lifted out and carried over one Suit's shoulder. Electrical cable-ties were fastened around ankles and wrists. Kato needed more time to formulate a plan, the presence of the innocent Nina and Kirsty was going to have to be a major consideration. They would be in danger whether he acted or not, but he would have to be sure that he didn't expose them to unecessary risk.

As Kato was lifted and carried, he was able to see the house. It was a perfect reconstruction/replica of a French Aristocratic Mansion in the style of a mini Palais-de-Versaille. But tasteful. Were they still in America? wondered Kato.

Tripitaka of AA
28th April 2003, 21:13
By the time they were dumped onto the tatami mats of a traditional Japanese living room, three of them were awake. Kirsty seemed to have suffered a greater hit from the nerve gas than the others, perhaps because of her small size. Nina had woken when she felt her boots being removed. Her reactions were to start screaming "rape" but the mouth hadn't managed to produce much more than a snore when Kato had reassured her. The goons were simply removing their shoes for them to enter the Japanese-style residence. It looked very strange to see large men slipping off their shoes and donning purple towel slippers, while still carrying drugged and bound hostages over one shoulder.

Kato marveled at the quality of the furnishings. Nina was shocked at the lack of furnishings!

As the goons retreated, they were alone in the historical time-warp room. Mr Mori entered through the sliding screen door...

Tripitaka of AA
28th April 2003, 22:24
Lefavre reached into his pocket for the lighter, cursed, then nudged his sidekick for a light. They were just clearing their plates of gravy, mopping with a bread roll.

Lefavre asked again "So you haven't seen her since two nights ago?". The uniformed waitress shrugged in the affirmative, scowling at the measly tip that Number 18 had left. "Ring me on this number at the station-house, leave a message if I'm not there". Then in a most uncharacteristic bout of generosity Lefavre place a quarter by his plate and left. Betty was so astounded that she forgot to scowl.

Lefavre and Gudjonsson got back in their car and resumed their tour of the key locations of the story so far. They were really none the wiser, as to what was going on. What had started as a multiple homicide down by the docks was now a merry wild-goose chase around LA looking for a Jap guy, a black waitress and a black guy with an afro.

Some days it was easier to just dream about the boat he wanted to buy, then imagine himself sailing around Monterey and up to Catalina.

Charlie Kondek
29th April 2003, 21:51
"He wishes to speak to you alone," said the suit.

JP interupted: "My partner don't go anywhere alone, son, ya heard - oh."

The gun silenced him. Kato insisted, "It's okay, JP. Wait here."

"Where I'm gonna go?" JP quipped.

Kato entered the room through a sliding shoji screen and waited.

It was bare, save only for a sword stand - a sword stand - and a small table upon which tea had been placed.

Then the shoji in the opposite wall opened and Mori entered.

He bowed curtly, sat in seiza near the tea table, and began serving tea.

Kato Tadao eyed the daito and moved closer to the tea table.

"It is a great offense to kidnap policemen," he said.

Mori, his leonine head lifting only slightly, raised an eyebrow and said, "Who has kidnapped whom? You are my honored guests."

"Where?"

"At my estate in San Francisco."

Tadao shook his head. He had been out for longer than expected! He accepted a cup of proferred tea. For a moment, neither man said anything.

Tripitaka of AA
30th April 2003, 01:54
"Your man with the scar on his lip, he killed Kanno". Kato opened play by laying down two cards. At least, that's what he was trying to do... not being a poker player by nature this wasn't going to be easy. He realised that he couldn't expect Mori to behave like a Japanese, so he must imagin him as an American... hence the imaginary Poker game.

"But when I next saw him, he had many bandages. Did he not complete his task?" Kato was asking, with not much hope of hearing an answer.

"As you well know, Mr Kato, the device that Mr Kanno held, is very dear to us. You shouldn't have been able to keep it for so long". Mori did not look at Kato, but stared ahead as though in meditation.

"Does it belong to Mr Big?" Kato let loose with a wild shot, hoping that buckshot might scare a ferret like Mori into slipping up. "Mr Big thinks everything belongs to him" lamented Mori, "But this is simply not so".

Charlie Kondek
30th April 2003, 16:43
Kato frowned and thought. To come right out and request or demand something... was very un-Japanese.

Mori didn't help by prompting: "Choose your next few words carefully, inspector. They will decide whether you live or die."

To further confound matters, he removed the mysterious electronic device that had been so much trouble, and placed it on the floor between them.

"Would you like to know what this is?" Mori asked.

"It is of no particular importance," Kato replied.

"I will tell you," said the crime-lord, but he watched Kato's face closely to see the policeman's reaction. "Some time ago, the U.S. government provided weapons to an unnamed banana republic in central America that never made it to their destination. Since then, that cache of weapons has been up for auction, and I recently acquired them. Unfortunately, the location of the weapons is known only to this device." He tapped it. "A rather ingenius little GPS. And it was also unfortunate that my trusted employee, Kanno, was planning to sell the device to 'Mr. Big.'"

"So that is why the scarred one killed him."

"Precisely. I know he is someone you wanted very much to kill yourself, and I also know why..."

Kato's lips tightened at the thought.

"But now, as you see, the business is over. The GPS device is where it belongs, in my hands. The traitor Kanno has been dealt with, and it only remains to be seen whether you - as a representative of international law - wish to pursue this. If you - the policeman - wishes to be my friend... or my enemy."

"The Americans would say you want to know if I'm 'for sale.'"

"The Americans would say, 'Everything is for sale.' We have spent too much time among them, I think, and it has made our speech inelegant." Mori sighed. "But there it is, 'all my cards on the table.' How will you 'play it,' then, Inspector Kato Tadao?"

Kato said through pursed lips, "If I choose to become your enemy, I'm not in a very good position."

"As in the game of go, I seem to have your pieces surrounded."

Kato smiled, eyeing the daito.

"There are many sudden reverses in go," he said.

Charlie Kondek
30th April 2003, 16:53
After it hit their windshield, it took Lefavre and Gudjonsson several seconds to determine what it was: a Slurpee.

"What the - ?" Gudjonsson stopped the car. Lefavre got out.

A young Asian kid, prompted by several others who lurked in an alley nearby, howled with laughter at them.

"Dumb ¤¤¤¤," Lefavre said, as Gudjonsson also slipped out of the vehicle. "They don't know who they just pranked."

"Hey, you little bastard," Lefavre growled, waving his shield. "Come here. This just ain't your day, son."

The taunter didn't seem to speak English, but he did know how to employ a middle finger. He and his juvenile buddy's ran into the alley.

"The nerve!" Gudjonsson said, giving pursuit.

"Hey, Dave, just a second..." said Lefavre, but his hulking friend was already entering the alley. He thought: Dammit, Dave, just because these slopes are kids doesn't mean they don't have guns! And he followed Gudjonsson into the alley with his own piece held low.

It was a good thing, too.

Tripitaka of AA
6th May 2003, 08:07
Nishimoto looked out on the mid-morning smog of Los Angeles and dabbed his handkerchief against a moist brow. He mumbled something in his wheezy high-pitched whisper, then turned to face the the assembled staff.

“Time to do the deal. I want this project completed before the sun goes down. No more excuses. This is not a suggestion, it is a command. Consider this to be the most important task that you will ever perform in your lives”.

The group response was a particularly low bow, and a silent retreat. A casual observer might have observed a look of intense concentration on the faces of the throng. Within a few minutes, twenty men were climbing into the back of a mini-bus with darkened windows. They were wearing dark clothing, sunglasses and carried heavy canvas bags.

Tripitaka of AA
6th May 2003, 08:47
Lefavre had his handgun pointing at the floor as he turned the corner. A familiar sound caused his stomach to tense and stopped him in his tracks. He saw the follow-through as the baseball bat continued its swing, trailing droplets of bright red oxygenated blood from Gudjonsson's face. The big man was still twisting from the impact as everything went into slow-motion.

Lefavre slammed on his foot brakes, raising his weapon with both hands. His conditioned reflex cop-shout was coming out in a slooooow deeeeeeep drawl "Po-------li-----------ce, dro-------p you----------r wea----------po-----n". His eyes were seeing movement from all sides of the alley and he couldn't make his brain sort them into any kind of order.

A bottle struck his right cheekbone just as he saw the bat strike Gudjonsson across the knee upending him like a bowling pin. He considereed firng a warning shot into the air but in a narrow alley like this he would be more likely to hit an innocent neighbour watching from a window. Half a millisecond after wasting time to think about that, he got a brick to the shin which buckled him to the floor.

With both men down, the missiles rained on them for a full thirty seconds before, as suddenly as it began, the onslaught ceased.


Lefavre, despite numerous hits, had maintained a grip on his weapon and remained conscious. "Oh ¤¤¤¤, they're going stomp us now" he realised the heavy rain had stopped. He called out Gudjonsson but could not hear a reply. He crawled and dragged his partnerout of the alley as fast as he could, while trying to use his pistol as a deterrent to anyone approaching. What he couldn't see through the blood in his eyes, was that the alley was completely deserted and even the curtains had stopped twitching in the windows above. Stillness and silence, with just a crystal blue Spring sky looking down from the narrow crack between the buildings.

-------------------------

Three blocks down, Frenchy was counting out the other half of the promised fee. "Did you do it like I said? No time to think, right!"

"Sure man, it ain't like we never done it before. Come on, man, count faster. We got places to go".

"They messed up? But not too badly right?"

"Sure, sure, 'no life-threatening injuries, condition stable', just like you wanted".

"You boys do a good job. If you want more like this, then keep it nice and quiet and I'll see you get to see more of it" He stuck the wad back in his wallet and waited for the youths to leave first. Mr Evil and Mr Hungry by his side helped to make sure that the guys didn't start losing their professionalism now and take a shine to the remainder of the wad. Mr Evil and Mr Hungry growled on cue and the lads left quickly.

Frenchy tightened the choke chains and martialled the dogs back into the van. He had to take them back to the veterinarian's surgery before their scheduled spaying (Doc had been right, "nil-by-mouth" really did increase their ability to look mean).

Charlie Kondek
7th May 2003, 16:06
Tadao put his hand on the GPS device.

Mori, startled, put his hand on Tadoa's hand.

There was a blink. Then Tadao had the GPS in one hand, the bloodied kodachi in the other. Mori's severed hand lay on the tatami in front of him. He clutched the stump to himself as Tadao put the blade to Mori's throat.

"Did you give the order for Kanno to kill my wife. Answer me!"

"I... did not..." Mori sputtered.

A gunman had come through the sliding screen. Few people know that swords can be thrown, but they can. The gunman slipped to the floor with the kodachi in his neck. Tadao snapped up his pistol, then the tachi on the sword stand. With one slash, the screens that separated him from his friends parted.

JP and Kirsty had a gunman held down, JP around his ankles, Kirsty at his waist. Nina had been hitting the man on the head with a shoe.

In three quick movements, the friends' hands had been freed, and JP and Kirsty were armed with the purloined pistols. Sounds of commotion came from elsewhere in the house. Nina, heedless of the sword in Tadao's hands, threw her arms around him.

"We have to get out of here," JP said. "Sounds like the cavalry's coming from downstairs."

Shots rang out from somwhere below. A baffled look spread over JP's face; he passed the look to Tadao. Tadao showed him the GPS device. "We must go," he said.

"I heard that," said JP, edging, John Woo style, to the door, with Kirsty covering him expertly.

To Nina, Tadao said, "Just a moment, please."

He disentangled himself from her as he went back into Mori's conference room, following a trail of blood to a chrome sink in an antechamber where Mori was frantically bandaging his hand.

Again he put the steel to Mori's neck. Mori's eyes locked on to his in an act of defiance, despite the unbearable pain he must have been feeling.

"It's strange," Tadao said. "It seems my spring quest is at an end. I came to America to decide whether I would do my duty as a policeman or as a husband, by either killing Kanno or bringing him to justice. Circumstances have freed me from this dilemma, and as for you, because you did not give the order, you will live."

He added, "But if we meet again..."

Then he and his friends were gone.

But the danger for them was far from over...

Tripitaka of AA
7th May 2003, 20:34
While Tadao had been semi-conscious during the transfer from truck to "chateau", the others only came around when they were in the tatami room. For Nina, the corridor leading from the shoji and the blood was going to end up in a busy restaurant and then out onto a bustling sidewalk. Finding herself being bundled up a grand staircase, decorated like a wedding cake, past portraits and busts of famous composers and furniture like Louis XIV's boudoir... well, it all seemed like the craziest dream.

A dream shattered by the flying fragments of a marble Beethoven exploding into fine white dust behind her, accompanied by the crescendo of a full-sized chandelier falling from forty feet onto three men dressed in black. JP had shot at the chain support with one hand while Kirsty had thrown Haydn and Mozart as an interim distraction.

It was apparent from the direction of attack that the men in black were not the employed staff of this establishment, thought Tadao as he saw a man in a white tuxedo bearing a silver tray being shredded by machine-gun fire from a man wearing sunglasses. They've come from outside, and have come for a reason, he reasoned, and he pushed the GPS deeper into his pocket.

He remembered seeing trees close to the house which might provide cover for an escape, and directed JP to the second floor rooms at the back. He guessed that they would be bedrooms with a view of landscaped gardens, perhaps with balconies and means of escape.

Mori's staff were finally reacting to the intrusion of Nishimoto's squad. The element of surprise was now spent, and the intimate knowledge of the house's interior was giving the advantage back to the regular occupants. They took up positions around the balconies overlooking the staircase and had the intruders isolated on the ground floor. Nishimoto's men were unable to take the stairs without stepping into a killing zone. This had been proved at the expense of three dispensibles so far.

As Tadao reached the ceiling high "French" windows at the back of a large suite, plaster dropped from the pressure wave of a stun grenade being thrown at the stair case.

...

Tripitaka of AA
13th May 2003, 11:15
As the shockwave shook clouds of dust from all the difficult to reach places, Tadao saw something through the window that gave him hope. Across a wide balcony overlooking some ornamental gardens he saw the tailfin of a helicopter. The main rotor was still gently rotating and he realised that if they could take it, there would be no effective means of pursuit. An ambitious project, but difficult times will often require extraordinary measures.

“JP, do you fly?” he motioned JP to the window. “We have taxi-cab waiting”.

“That’s where I can help” said Kirsty, pushing JP aside. “You barricade the doors, keep the goons occupied and I’ll take us out of here”. JP took his orders “Yes ma’am”, putting his weight against an 18th century Harpsichord and sliding it in front of the ceiling-high double doors. The sound of running footsteps and doors being kicked open, was getting closer. Nina lifted an ornately carved chair and through it across the pile of priceless furniture that now formed an impressive bonfire in front of the doors.

Tadao winced at the thought of such fine pieces being treated so badly, he had an eye for fine craftsmanship, even in these times of great need. But that didn’t stop him taking his sword to the suspension cords that secured a large tapestry. Twenty feet of heavily embroidered velvet and cotton fell to the ground at his feet. Rolling it up loosely he carried his improvised crash-mat to the edge of the balcony and threw it to the flower beds below. A drop of twenty feet or so, damn these high-ceilings, thought Tadao. The soft earth of the flower bed would soften the landing, and the crash-mat would help too.

“Nina, Kirsty, over here!” Shouted Tadao as the first kick was heard at the door. No sense in trying to stay quiet now. He said “I have the device that they are looking for. It is all to do with this. You get the helicopter and get going, they’ll be too busy trying to get me. I’ve got some work to do…”

Tadao’s words were lost amidst a burst of automatic gunfire that was shredding the highly expensive barricade to the room. JP had found a small cabinet filled with a fine supply of excellent scotch whisky and brandies. He shouted to Tadao “We have NOWHERE TO GO, WE’LL HAVE TO STAY AND FIGHT” as he gave him a big wink and gestured to him that helicopter escapes were “fine by me”. He through the crystal decanters and 16 year-lod malts at he barricade and smiled as the next burst of red hot shells ignited the liquour. A few books from the low table (elegant landscape photography and “Nude Food – Part Seven”) got the flames going and the upholstery from the chairs was soon to be engulfed in flames.

Nina followed Kirsty over the carved stone balustrade and did her best to copy the rolling breakfall on landing. That they both survived unharmed gave Tadao a boost as he prepared to create his diversion. “JP, you have to go with them. Its time.” JP didn’t wait to question the decision, he gave his friend a big smile and said “it’s time for action, right!”. He dropped from the ledge, crashed onto the mat and was up running for the chopper before he noticed the bullet-hole in his leg. “Kirsty had reached the privet hedge that concealed the helipad from the house. She saw it was being attended by just two men. One appeared to be the pilot. He wore the smart uniform of a chauffeur, but with a set of headphones instead of a peaked cap. He was running some visual checks on the aircraft post-landing, while a second man, in a dark suit with sunglasses, sat on a crate of ammunition playing with a small laptop computer.

“Subject still at level 2 on South Side. Trace is still strong… slight movements… it is still being carried…” He spoke into a tiny microphone worn with an earpiece. “No, don’t bother with the others, secondary forces can isolate them as required, you focus on retrieving the device”.

Nina grabbed hold of Kirsty’s arm and shook it to direct her attention to JP who was limping towards them with blood squirting from his thigh. Kirsty looked coldly at the wound and said “through and through?”, JP nodded “Think so”. She took the pistol and checked the chambers. Three rounds left in the revolver. “Remember the movie “Hong Kong Cop?”, she said to JP. He looked nonplussed but was ignored. Kirsty grabbed him by the collar, pointed the gun at his head and dragged him like a dog toward the gap in the bushes.

Laptop man looked up to see a five-foot woman dragging a bleeding six-foot man like a dog towards the helicopter . His momentary hesitation in reaching for his own pistol allowed Kirsty the time to see the weapon and he took two hits to the chest before his hand had reached the gun. The pilot still had his mouth open and one hand on the fuselage when his arm was twisted behind his back and his head pulled back by the hair. Nina came out from hiding and helped JP into the passenger seats of the chopper. JP found a couple of Uzi machine guns on the back seats and checked them for ammunition. “Fully loaded and ready for action, this could help!”.

Kirsty climbed into the pilot’s seat, wearing his earphones. “He said it is fuelled and ready to go, but declined to join us” she said and Nina couldn’t help but notice the pilot running like a girl away from the helicopter, away from the house and as far away from Kirsty as he could. “What did you say to him?” asked Nina, “I just mentioned that my husband was feeling poorly. He said something about “If that’s how you treat your husband… I’m outta here”” Nina smiled and said “I know what he means… I’ll take good care of him for you. But what about Tadao?”.


Smoke and flames filled the room and Tadao stood to one side of the French windows. Using shallow breaths and keeping perfectly still, he had managed to stay concealed when the first group of attackers had burst into the room. They scanned the room with weapons extended in both hands and went straight through the doors to the balcony as they took directions from a leader who wore an earpiece. A few shots from the balcony, Tadao prayed they were unsuccessful, the Leader chattered into his mike then shouted out “leave them, the target is still here”. Distracted by what he heard in his earpiece the Leader re-entered the smoke filled room in three pieces. His pistol hit the ground still held by the right hand, which had travelled through the air still cupped by the now severed left hand. Leader’s sudden loss of bodyweight made him lose balance slightly and he reached out to steady himself against the doorframe, but having an arm 18 inches shorter than usual made this simple movement spectacularly ineffective and he collapsed in a heap. His gasped shriek of shock alerted the rest of the team, but not before two of them had been similarly incapacitated by Tadao’s swift blade. A fourth man in sunglasses had time to squeeze his trigger and shoot one of his colleagues in the back and then spray the wall with bullet-holes in a beautiful arc before he hit the ground. His suit was ruined and his collar was open to the waist. Not unbuttoned. Just open. With organs exposed more neatly than any autopsy.

Only one of the initial team still stood. Tadao had correctly deduced that he was the slowest and lowest threat to his immediate survival. He was not bearing a firearm. He was carrying a katana. He stood now, ten feet from Tadao… smiling.

Tripitaka of AA
20th May 2003, 16:56
Tadao recognised the opening posture of his opponent. It marked him out as a product of an Iaido ryu that originated in Kyushu during the times of the Mongol invasion. The centuries old refinement of technique and posture, diligently performed each day by the student, studied then practised, copied and absorbed until each movement was like a brush stroke from a calligraphy masters fude.

Tadao sank to a lower stance, raising his katana above him in an aggressive pose that also acted as an invitation to a lower level attack. He felt a little strange to be performing this movement in shoes, but he had practised like this before. He slid his front foot an inch to the left. He saw the reaction in his opponent’s eyes. He saw the bead of sweat that was forming on his opponent’s forehead. He saw the slightly worried look of a man standing on a frozen lake when the hot sun comes out.

The sounds of gunfire from inside the house seemed to fade as a breeze blew some scraps of paper across the balcony. Two birds flew in a lazy arc above the two men, while a squirrel paused and watched from a tree. Smoke from inside the house continued to stream from the window, occasionally blowing across the gap between the two living statues. Time stood still.

Tadao said “Ohayo gozaimasu” {Good Morning}

Sweating Man replied “ Ohayo” {’Morning}

Tadao said “ Hajimemashite” {Pleased to meet you}

Sweating man laughed and shifted his bodyweight. Tadao could read the man’s next move from his face. His technique was good but he had trained too long in isolation. His mask was not as impenetrable as it needed to be. Sweating Man slid his back foot across, preparing to lunge forward in a direct attack, while trying to distract Tadao by saying “ baka-yaro, hajime!” {Idiot, let’s go!}


Tadao broke his stance and ran to the balcony balustrade, leaving Sweating Man standing. He had set his pose for a lunge and was caught out by Tadao’s sudden move away from the line of attack. “Damn” thought Sweating Man as he too came to blame his years of practising alone. He untied his feet and ran to chase Tadao, just in time to see Tadao rebound from the balustrade having used it like the ropes in a Pro-Wrestling Ring. The two men were almost airborne as they flew toward each other. Tadao had created this situation and had the advantage, Sweating Man had to react swiftly. High or Low? Sweating man chose Low, and dropping his head and pulling in his chin, he swung the katana from across his body outwards at mid-chest height. Tadao used a previous victim as a springboard, striding off the chest of a fallen man he performed an aerial forward roll. His jump cleared the swing of Sweating Man with ease, and as he passed over, his sword severed the ear of his opponent.

Sweating Man did not hesitate for a second. He slammed on the brakes and reversed his charge to met Tadao again at full speed. This time there weren’t any springboards or props between them and Sweating Man chose to strike almost vertically upwards as Tadao closed to striking range, swinging the sword upwards in a two-handed grip from his right leg toward his left shoulder. Tadao countered with a spinning deflection that sent Sweating Man’s strike high into empty air, while his own sword shielded his body. His pirouette swung momentum and power into the short arm elbow strike to the back of Sweating Man’s head as they passed. This spectacular miss and the added knock on the head sent Sweating Man careering toward the wall, losing his balance briefly. He let the wall absorb his momentum and used the rebound to launch his next attack.

Sweating Man turned to face Tadao as he accelerated to a charge. Tadao was standing still. He had struck a pose, inviting an attack, and ready for anything. The moment was as near to beauty as anything he had ever experienced. The blood was whizzing through his body in frenzy, but his mind was as clear and focussed as he had ever been. All the training that he had subjected his body to since childhood was now worthwhile and made perfect sense. As Sweating Man raced towards him with flared nostrils and eyebrows making a perfect “V” shape, Tadao breathed slowly and waited patiently. His mouth was closed. His grip relaxed but firm, starting with the little fingers and ending with the index fingers, he flexed the fingers.

Sweating man raised his sword high, for a decisive blow to the head, he screamed a mighty kiai and began the downward swing … swikkk! Tadao’s katana struck his throat and cut through the oesophagus and jugular vein, before piercing bone and marrow and finally spinal cord. Sweating Man was dead before he hit the ground.

Tadao withdrew the sword and with a twist of his wrist, shook the blood from the blade. With a slight pause to acknowledge the worthiness of his fallen opponent Tadao followed centuries of warriors before him by coming to the realisation that he had taken the life of another human being, but had saved his himself in the process. A sobering moment that was soon to be shattered by the arrival of more modern weapons of higher velocity than Tadao’s sword.

Tripitaka of AA
22nd May 2003, 21:33
“Ye’ll have to forgive me, I may be a bit rusty!” quipped Kirsty as she gripped the joystick and stuck her feet into the pedals. “Stick this headset on, so you can hear me”, she shouted at Nina. JP was beginning to slip in and out of consciousness but he managed to give Kirsty a smile as Nina started applying a field dressing to his thigh wound.

Kirsty felt the tears welling in her eyes, so she turned, gritted her teeth and ran the instrument check as best she could. This wasn’t an aircraft that she had flown before, but she kept muttering something about “bicycles” and telling herself it was a “piece of cake”. Fuel, trim, revs… and the twenty or thirty other ones!

As the rotor increased its speed from a lazy roundabout to an invisible blur the wind blew garden debris all around them. The downforce sent dust and leaves into the faces of the approaching men in dark suits. A simple bit of grit in the eye was enough to neutralise the threat of even the toughest bad guy. Grown men were weeping as they struggled to deal with the microscopic shrapnel.

As the chopper lifted off the ground it shot forwards rather too quickly and the tips of the main rotor did a neat trim of some rhododendron bushes until Kirsty corrected the forward elevation. Her over-correction had the tail fuselage swing to the right knocking over some gardening handtools and shredding a new feature on the privet hedge. It all went a lot better once they were high enough from the ground to be clear of obstacles.

Kirsty turned towards the house and focussed on the balcony. Framed by billowing smoke and silhouetted against the orange flames that were chasing around the interior of the house, a sword-wielding hero was beckoning. As she headed towards Tadao, he sheathed his katana and began spraying the garden area with bullets from the Uzis he collected from two fallen pawns.

Smoke, wind, some loosely flapping clothing and a rugged muscled body, Tadao was a teenage girls fantasy hero, thought Nina as she looked up to see his face pressing against the window. Kirsty made just one pass by the parapet and Tadao dropped one Uzi, leapt onto the outrigger undercarriage (or whatever you call it). He opened the side front passenger door but stayed on the outside as the machine sped from the burning house. Tadao had felled two more black suits and three of Mori’s thugs as the chopper gained altitude, now he came inside.

Tadao stowed his sword under the seat, grateful that he had managed to keep hold of the scabbard (he’d knocked out one of the assailants with it, but it was still most useful as a holder for the sharp-edged katana. You don’t want to go to a hospital and explain that you cut yourself with your own sword. It’s embarrassing, remembered Tadao, with a smile of recollection that he kept to himself). “Is everyone OK?” asked Tadao.

The look on Kirsty’s face alerted Tadao and he was shocked to see how pale JP was. Nina was doing an excellent job of applying First Aid. She had a compression bandage holding a sterile dressing in position over the g.s.w. on his thigh, but the blood was already dripping from the outside of the dressing. She was raiding the tiny First Aid kit from the chopper to find more dressings. Tadao was relieved to see that both women appeared to be uninjured. He wondered whether they were also [I]unharmed[/].

“Where are we headed?” shouted Tadao, and Kirsty gestured to a headset that hung by the headrest. When he had put it on she said “the maps we’ve got show this somewhere in Northern California, which is good… cos I thought we were in France, and I hate France.” Tadao nodded and asked “the nearest hospital?”, to which Kirsty replied San Dimas seems the best bet, as it’s big enough to have a fair sized Emergency Room. “Can you get there?” Said Tadao, “Let’s do it”

“No” said the voice that sounded a bit like Nina. Tadao turned to see Nina holding a pistol to Kirsty’s head “There is an unmarked airfield thirty miles east of here. Go there”. She looked into Tadao's eyes with a coldness he hadn't seen before, and said "You have the Device, has it been activated? Give it to me".

Charlie Kondek
10th June 2003, 17:53
It was dusk. Two youths in tattered surf clothing sat on a curb outside the Circle K convenience store in San Dimas.

One of them said, "What do you think the chances are of us scoring some brewskis tonight?"

"Ted, my friend," said the other, "unless Rufus happens to stumble along, I am afraid those chances are slim to none."

At that moment, something between a motorcycle and a tornado roared overhead.

"Awesome!"

Said the youths. They had expected a flying phone booth crackling with metaphysical electricity. Instead, they saw it was a helicopter being flown by an amateur.

"Bogus..." said the youths.


* * * *

An hour later, Tadao sat bare chested with a blanket over his shoulders while a polite man tended to his superficial wounds. "Don't know how you came through that unharmed," said the medic. "But it seems you did."

JP had not fared so well, but the surgeons - military personnel - assured him they had seen worse. Kirsty had been by his side as he slipped into the makeshift OR. That left Tadao alone for a while. Then... not so alone.

Nina.

She had slipped one of those commando sweaters over her outfit, black with vynil patches at the elbows and shoulders; tight, even now as Tadao seethed at having been deceived, he couldn't help but acknowledge her slim figure. She approached him cautiously. Her garment held no sign of rank, but he could tell by the way she was being treated that she was considered someone of importance by these men, who bore no official insignia though they looked like American military.

"Hi," she said.

Tadao nodded, not angrily.

"It looks like JP's going to be okay. He'll, uh, he'll live to rap again."

"And the device?"

"Safe," he said. She paused, she hated saying it. Hated not saying it. "In good hands," she said.

"Why didn't you tell me..."

"That's the thing," she said. "I still can't tell you. Suffice it to say that we're the good guys, but as for whom I am, what I am... Well, you're used to keeping secrets, aren't you? That's part of your, what, your ninja training."

"My family is the inheritors of a samurai style with ninjutsu among its core curriculum," Tadao said. "We never held espionage in high regard, but as an unpleasant necessity."

Nina leaned closer and frowned. "Yeah," she said. "I understand. Listen, does that mean, that you and I can never..."

Tadao said, "I have to think about it."

She was close to him. It was hard not to think about it.

At that moment a man in crisp, dark clothing came out of a tent carring a manila folder and a clipboard, followed by a spectacled man in a laptop.

"Nina," he said, "I thought you might like to know - we lost the signal somewhere in the Mediterranean. SigInt's working on it now, trying to pin it down."

"It was moving?" said Tadao.

"They must have had time or some kind of warning system," said the man, an officer of some kind. The spectacled guy in his shadow pecked furiously and held a stylus between his teeth. "At any rate, now we have to go after it. Before..."

"Before it falls into the wrong hands," Nina said.

Tadao said, "We won't be the only ones after it."

Nina and the officer exchanged glances. "That's true," he said. "We sure could use some good field agents to track this thing down." He smiled. "I think you know what I'm saying."

Again, Tadao looked towards Nina. "I'll... have to think about it," he said.

Charlie Kondek
8th July 2003, 16:32
EPILOGUE ONE:

Mori was dreaming of mountains when he came to. His vision was blurry at the edges, and a creature like a stork stood beside him.

The stork was a man, he now realized. They called him Mr. Slim. He was tall and lanky, and wore a black suit with a string tie and a tiny piece at his neck shaped like a cattle skull. On his head, a black cowboy hat. One of Mori's own people. He remembered. He looked down at the stump of his right hand and felt the phantom ache. Closed his eyes.

"Where is..." he began.

"On the move," said Slim. "The Third Party is looking after it."

"Nishimoto?"

"Oh," Slim said. "Let me worry about Nishimoto."

Then Mori felt cotton in his mouth and eyes. He could not breathe, was being smothered by two strong hands with long, tapered fingers.

He had no strength to fight, but as suddenly as it started it stopped.

When he oppened his eyes, Slim lay across him. And Frenchy stood at the foot of the bed. The pistol in his hand had a silencer, and smoked.

"What's with the help in this hopsital?" Frenchy said, winking. "In my day, the nuns never would have allowed this kind of treatment."

They looked at each other through the haze. Mori couldn't help but smile weakly; maybe it was the painkillers. Frenchy looked like he'd been through a war. He, Mori, probably looked much the same.

"Hello, my old friend," Mori said.

"Hello, older brother," said Frenchy.

"It seems... It seems you have much to forgive me for."

"And you, to forgive me. Let's not speak of it," Frenchy said. He was serious-looking, for once. Mori did not expect that to last long.

Frenchy came around to Mori's head. He pulled Slim's body aside and let it fall with a great thump to the floor. Then he leaned close to the oyabun's ear.

"I tried to get the device from the cops but they didn't have it on them," Frenchy whispered.

"I had it," Mori said. "But Tadao... escaped with it. And Nishimoto..."

"I know. The cache...?"

"Somewhere in the Meditteranean by now," Mori said. "We'll have to contact the Third Party and renegotiate the deal."

"Then Nishimoto probably knows about it, too."

Mori nodded.

"What are your orders, older brother?"

Mori closed his eyes. He was weak, but there was no time to lose.

"Will you attend to this thing for me, my valued retainer?"

"I will," Frency said. Then: "Besides, I've wanted to see Rome ever since I was an altar boy..."

It hurt to laugh, so Mori didn't.

Charlie Kondek
8th July 2003, 17:18
EPILOGUE TWO

Another hospital. Another room.

Tadao nodded uncomfortably under Kirsty's stern gaze. "Five minutes," she snarled. "And don't get him worked up." Then, abruptly, she threw her arms around him, gave him a reassuring squeeze, and shoved him into JP's presence.

She closed the door. JP smiled, a little foggy, and lowered the volume on the Captain Zerg program on the TV. "Que pasa?" he mumbled in his best Cheech Marin. "This is some good s--t!"

The reference went over Tadao's head. "How are you feeling?"

"Col' chillin'," said JP. "Like Bob Dylan. Hey, you'll have to excuse me, I'm a little high."

"It is better... than being... in pain..."

"Telling me. Lissen, man. You look like you in a little pain yourself. What's on your mind?"

"It is nothing to worry about."

"Naw, lissen. I kinda got the jist of what's going down with this whole guns thing, and it turns out Nina is a spook and all?"

"Spook?" He had been told this was an offensive term for persons of color in America. In fact, JP had been the one who told him, one night over beers when Tadao had learned an entire lexicon of taboo phrases.

"Oh, that can also mean 'secret agent,'" JP explained. "Like CIA or NSA? Anywho, Tadoa, man, maybe I'm a little stoned right now? But I'ma give it to you straight. Siddown."

Tadao felt a speech coming on, but he say, anyway.

"Your pride is hurt, no doubt," JP began. "You feel like you been set up. But look on the other side - you got what you came for, right? And now that you're here, you could continue to do some more good work. See I don't know how it is in Nippon but normally cops and feds don't get along. But in this case...

"Well, what I'm trying to say? That Nina is FOIN, man! And you dig her. And she digs you! So you could kinda hem and haw and have your Nipponese pride hurt, or you can just kind of admit that you and Nina are on the same side and go with her to Greece or whatever and straighten this thing out. Get the bad guys, AND get the boo-tay! Oh, wait, don't you get it? Get the booty AND the boo-tay! The boo-tay AND the boo-tay? Do you get it?"

Tadao crinkled his forehead. He said, "Um..."

JP looked serious for a moment. "Wait, wait, wait," he said. "What I'm trying to say is, forgive her. Let your guard down. Do that Zen thing you do, right? 'Be like water,' and all that? What does it matter? There's bad guys to battle and a fine, fine a-- to get with. Ain't no time to be stoic about it." He sank back into his pillow. "Gee, I'm high," he said.

And yet, thought Tadao, he is making a certain amount of sense...