by Nyx Smith
The senior district executive leads the entire group in a robust pledge of loyalty, then several loud and enthusiastic cheers, then gives the headmen their various assignments.
At five a.m., the street vendors begin arriving. They come with carts and portable stalls and an immense variety of wares, many with shirts and hats and other items bearing the mon of the Honjowara-gumi. All must prove their identities. All must be checked for weapons. Machiko tours the entire block for a second time, searching for any means by which she might fine-tune the defenses. She hears over her headset the GSG snipers reporting in, all clear. She is barely back to headquarters when she is approached by a district executive, a nervous man from a faction located in Trenton.
"Machiko-sama," he says, abruptly bowing. "Please. A matter for your attention."
Machiko opens her mouth to ask what has occurred, then merely follows the man as he turns and leads her to the alleyway at the rear of the headquarters building. Here, she finds two ork males in brown synthleather being restrained by a group of some eleven kobun. The headman of the group bows, and says, "These two were told to stay away from this alley. They kept hanging around and finally they attacked two of my men."
At a word from Machiko, the orks are stripped of their possessions, all but their clothes. Machiko examines these items one by one, but sees only a handgun, a few knives, credsticks, other paraphernalia common to lowly criminals. Nothing to suggest the assassin. The orks' jackets and various signs and symbols tattooed onto their hides identify them as members of a gang common to lower Manhattan, the Axemen gang. Street bangers. Such individuals carry weapons as a matter of routine. They probably wandered into the district with nothing more in mind than simple larceny.
But is this truly all the orks had in mind? How can Machiko be sure? She must make sure and she has little time. She could ask questions, but the orks would surely lie if they have sinister intentions. A formal interrogation is out of the question. The Chairman's motorcade is already en route. It will be arriving within the hour. If she is to order the motorcade to turn back, she must have some definite reason.
"You are on the wrong side of the Hudson," Machiko tells them. "Perhaps you are lost. Because you are strangers here, you will be shown leniency. You will not be punished. However, your property is forfeited to the men you attacked."
One ork snarls at her. "Frag that!"
The headman of kobun lashes out. The ork's head snaps backward, bleeding from both nose and mouth. He goes on snarling despite the blood, despite the obvious pain of his injuries. His snarls rise into vicious shouts of menace when Machiko orders the pair stripped of their Axemen jackets, and the bloody ork struggles, struggles like a rabid animal.
Machiko examines the jackets. All that she sees and hears amounts to nothing more or less than what she would expect of bangers, ork street bangers with bad tempers and no manners. Gutterpunks. Not a significant threat.
"This district is controlled by the Honjowara-gumi of Nagato Combine," Machiko tells the orks. "We have rules and we insist that these rules be obeyed. Gangers are not allowed in this district. Today, you will be escorted away. Do not return. If you return, you will be killed."
The bloodied ork sneers at her, then spits.
Her thoughts appear confirmed.
However, a display of such disrespect as spitting implies is intolerable. Thirteen pairs of eyes widen with shock and outrage, and the kobun react without waiting for instructions. Six of them drive the offending ork to the ground and begin administering a vicious beating. The other ork merely watches and so he is not punished. He watches Machiko as she uses her commlink to contact OPS. Machiko makes certain that he sees her doing this.
Within thirty seconds, an OPS cruiser comes roaring up the alley. The heavily armed and armored officers from the cruiser immediately ask how they may help.
Machiko says, "These persons are trespassing. You will please arrest them."
The orks are placed in handcuffs and driven away.
Justice comes in many forms. In Manhattan, the NYPD, Inc. shares the responsibility for justice with various other organizations. Here, in the district centered around Bergen Street, the Honjowara-gumi of Nagato Combine shares the responsibility, just as ultimately all people share the responsibility. The justice of the clan is fair and swift and, above all, founded upon respect. All people and all property must be shown respect. That is the basis of civilized society. Those who have no respect for anything but their own selfish desires, for criminality and mayhem, are dealt with accordingly. Barbarians are brutalized. The Way of such persons demands it. A brutal punishment such as a beating is the barbarian's own unique path to the Buddha nature, and, hence, to true enlightenment.
On any other day, Machiko might have taken some small satisfaction in helping another along the path to enlightenment.
Today, it is an unwelcome distraction.
13
At five minutes before six a.m., the first grayish hints of the coming dawn streak the night sky and the headlights of the cars leading the Chairman's motorcade turn down the alleyway that runs behind the headquarters building.
The entire length of the alleyway is lit by floodlights and lined by kobun. Every window that might provide an assassin with a line of sight to the rear of the headquarters building is under observation by a GSG sniper. Every roof and every side alley is being watched by Nagato SDF personnel. Machiko and the balance of her advance team wait at the rear of the headquarters watching, watching everything, the roofs, the alleys, and now the motorcade.
The first three cars are full of Nagato SDF. These rush past the rear of the headquarters to their screening position at the end of the alleyway. Next, two armored security vans. These come to rapid halts just past the headquarters building. An SDF heavy weapons team and a GSG assault squad immediately assume positions flanking the vans. Then come two Toyota Elite limos and the Chairman's Mitsubishi Nigthsky armored limousine. The doors of the limos remain closed until the trailing vehicles of the motorcade, more vans, more cars, have taken up screening positions inside the alley. The limo doors remain closed till more SDF and GSG teams have assumed their positions. They remain closed till Machiko has moved her eyes around one last time, till she breathes and settles her spirit and moves to the Chairman's limo.
The doors of the Toyota limos spring open. More GSG emerge. Machiko raps a knuckle three times against the rear door of the Chairman's limo. The door on the other side of the limo from where she stands immediately swings open. Ryokai climbs out. As he straightens, Machiko opens the door before her and out steps Gongoro. The entire arrival has been choreographed to keep an assassin guessing, to perhaps bait a killer into attacking prematurely. It would be a foolish exercise in futility against some of the more devastating weapons available in the plex, but such weapons are rarely used. Mortars and missiles do no one any good. The far more likely threat comes in the form of a lone assassin, who, with gun or sword or bomb, is willing to die if death will yield success.
"Interrogative, report," Machiko says into her headset.
"All stations report clear," Captain Oseki reports from the command center.
Machiko draws the limo door open fully and out step the Chairman's secretary and his aide, then Ohana-san and other of the Chairman's close advisors, and then finally the Chairman himself. Machiko and Gongoro position themselves to screen Honjowara-sama from either end of the alley. He is further protected by the twelve GSG today assigned to the body detail.
The Chairman glances quickly around, but strides directly to the rear of the headquarters building and proceeds inside, closely guarded by Ryokai and the rest of the body detail.
Machiko breathes deeply. The potential for disaster will haunt her throughout the day to come, of this she is certain, but at least the first step has been made without incident. They have gotten the Chairman here alive. Now they must keep him that way.
Next on the schedule is a meeting in the fourth-floor conference room. The
Young Dragons of the Bergen Street Youth Association, in their black suits and red blouses, serve a light breakfast. The atmosphere is formal and tense. All the senior leaders of the clan are in attendance: the shatei, or younger brothers, the wakashira-hosa, or directors, the sanro-kai, or counselors. The bosses and assistant bosses and special consultants or advisors. Some hold official positions within Nagato Corporation and some do not, but the point is of no importance. These are the men and women who make the decisions. They set policy and issue the orders. And here for the first time Machiko must stand just to the rear of the Chairman's right as the acting senior of the Guard. Here, she must present herself as capable of leading the Guard and keeping the Chairman safe. It is a provocative experience, a challenge to her both as a warrior and as a woman, to keep spirit settled and mind and body focused. Those of the leaders who were not present at earlier meetings, who are only now learning the fullest details of what has occurred, ask many questions, and several of them direct questions at Machiko herself.
At some length, Honjowara-sama declares, "Machiko-san was attacked while she slept. Did you not hear that she killed the assassin? Do you see a mark anywhere on her person? What other proof do you require of a warrior's ability?"
The Chairman's tone, his expression and attitude, settle the issue.
The meeting ends; another begins. This time in the smaller meeting room on the third floor. A less formal gathering of underbosses and district executives selected for the rare honor of a personal meeting with the Chairman. In terms of the forces they each command and the financial power each of them wields, they are not without significance. But as the Chairman himself has said, they are the roots from which the tree of Nagato Combine has grown, and so must never be undervalued. Over the years, many district executives have risen to positions of importance both within the Honjowara-gumi and Nagato Corporation. Many of their children have received full university scholarships and serve in the clan in many valuable capacities. They are hard-working and very loyal and always on the watch for likely recruits. They are, as well, a crucial source of intelligence concerning not only events in the megaplex, but rumored happenings affecting the globe.
Few questions are raised. The talk centers around specifics. The Chairman impresses the gathering with his command of even the most modest of clan endeavors. His words appear designed to generate enthusiasm. He concludes by presenting various awards.
As he exits, a pair of Nagato security officers enter to conduct routine interviews regarding district activities. Machiko again feels the conflict between duty and emotion. She lingers several moments. She hears talk about the activities of competing interests, including Triads, specifically the Large Circle League, but nothing about assassins, or the likelihood of further attacks against Nagato Combine.
She catches up with the Chairman on the second floor. A meeting with a delegation of business persons, primarily mizu shobai, people of the "water business," bars, restaurants, and nightclubs. A few of these persons have shady or questionable reputations, so, in addition to the body detail, Machiko again stations herself almost directly at the Chairman's right and remains there throughout the meeting, focusing on the questionable individuals exclusively. None more than glance at her. More than a glance at her or any of the GSG in these circumstances would be impolite, as well as suggestive of sinister intent.
As the Chairman departs, Machiko approaches the owner of a successful string of nightclubs, a frequent guest at the Chairman's Open House, for he is a man with connections and influence on both sides of the borders of Little Asia.
Her inquiries gain her nothing.
Perhaps she is a fool to waste time asking questions. The Warrior's Way is death, not words. She struggles against feelings of frustration. She has little experience in gathering useful intelligence. Perhaps she merely gives exercise to her own arrogance in hoping to discover the truth of the threat facing the clan.
She pursues the Chairman to the ground floor. He will now meet with some of the ordinary working people of the headquarters district. Several have already been admitted to the lobby. They are treated as greatly honored guests. They are admitted one or two at a time to the western-style sitting room near the lobby. They are met at the doorway of the room by the geisha of Madame Fujitomi, proprietor of the Willow Pond Teahouse, the oldest, most distinguished teahouse in Little Asia. Two of these magnificent geisha, in traditional regalia, kneel and then bow their heads to the floor while offering words of greeting. Two others bring gifts, beautiful small bouquets, and small booklets bound in black synthleather. Each of the booklets contains a formal portrait of the Chairman and an inspiring message scripted by a master of traditional calligraphy.
The geisha then usher the guests forward. The Chairman himself invites them to occupy one of the pair of sofas situated to the left and right of his own sofa unit. The geisha serve tea. By then, many of the guests appear rather flustered, unsure what to say or how to proceed. In such cases, Honjowara-sama smiles. He smiles paternally and asks quiet questions. Always he inquires about his guests' lives, their living conditions, their jobs, their families. Have they any complaints? any suggestions? Perhaps some member of their family is experiencing difficulties. Perhaps the clan can help.
The Chairman's manner is such that most people quickly gain confidence and say what is on their minds, though always with great reverence.
Machiko's concentration is disrupted by a beep from her headset, then Gongoro's voice, saying, "Machiko, Checkpoint Zero. An old man is causing a disturbance."
Machiko lifts one hand to cover her mouth and the wireframed mike beside it, and says softly, "Explain."
"The old man asks for you by name."
This is perplexing, confounding. Why would anyone ask for her? Before the question can finish forming in her mind, she has the answer. The old man is named Uekiya and of course he asks for her. "Stand by," she tells Gongoro.
She strides from the sitting room and down the hallway to the front lobby. The hallway and lobby are guarded both by GSG and kobun, for here in the lobby some dozens of people wait to meet with the Chairman. Young Dragons of the Youth Association supervise the visitors, and more of Madame Fujitomo's geisha keep them entertained. Machiko moves directly to the revolving doors and through to the sidewalk outside. Here she now sees the crowd she has heard so much about on her headset. They fill the whole street. Many linger near the headquarters.
The sidewalk directly in front of the headquarters, as well as part of the street, has been roped off. Here, more of the Young Dragons distribute to passersby free copies of the latest issue of Wavefront Honjowara, a monthly journal describing major events affecting the clan and plans for the future, as well as important news related to Nagato Corp and Nagato Combine as a whole. Here, the crowds gathered outside the velvet ropes watch several large displays now running trideos about the clan, its organization and objectives, its relations with the clans of Nagato Combine, its continuing efforts to rid its districts of crime and improve people's lives, and so on. The twenty-odd kobun posted here, and their headman, spend most of their time talking, answering questions, and making conversation, hoping to enhance the clan's image. The only true elements of security here are the four GSG flanking the revolving lobby door, and the four Nagato SDF officers in the red and black jackets of the clan who clear visitors to the headquarters through their security checkpoint.
Also at the checkpoint stands Gongoro and one other, a skinny old man with thin white hair, dressed in the plain gray linen clothes of an ordinary worker. Uekiya-san. He carries a dark canvas bag and a small box wrapped in pastel gift-paper. Even now he asks in a loud voice that wavers with age for Machiko-sama to be called. She is nearly to the checkpoint when he sees her.
He smiles and draws a handgun from the canvas bag.
"Gun!" Gongoro roars, and in that very instant he is moving, moving forward, hurling himself bodily at the old man, and the SDF officers and kobun standing nearby are reacting, too.<
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It is all so sudden, so completely without warning, that the scene is unfolding before her eyes before Machiko can draw a breath, open her mouth, and shout, "STOP!"
Gongoro slams into the old man like a battering ram. Two SDF officers and one of the kobun are falling against his back even as he drives the old man to the pavement.
People shout, a woman screams. The crowd nearest the checkpoint surges back and away, and more shouts and cries erupt as people are banged about, some knocked off their feet.
Gongoro, the four SDF officers, and three kobun are all piling atop the old man before Machiko can reach them, shouting, "Get off! Get back!" She uses her hands like weapons, striking blows, paralyzing arms and legs with pressure-point strikes, even kicking, in her efforts to rescue the old man.
Finally, she is face to face with Gongoro. He gazes at her as if she is insane.
Of course he does. The realization all but overwhelms her with shame and anger. Until today, their seniors—Sukayo, Mitsuharu, and Jiksumi—monitored activities inside the headquarters. Gongoro routinely monitored activity at the barricades or up on the rooftops. Machiko herself kept watch over the front entrance and the security checkpoint. So she knows Uekiya's story. So she knows that he has come to practically every Open House since the first Open House. So she is aware that he has owned the small market just Up the block for decades, that he has been robbed many times by gangers, though never on this block, and, as a result, habitually carries a gun, a compact Fichetti 500.