by Tristan Vick
THRACK!
Saeko jolted forward and threw an elbow. She knew that the more distance she gave Rachael the more time Rachael would have to evade her attacks. Not letting Rachael create any space between them, Saeko spun and struck Rachael’s jaw with a reverse elbow. This stunned her opponent just enough to allow Saeko to throw a solid punch. Making contact with Rachael’s face for the first time today, Saeko shuffled forward and got off another quick jab to Rachael’s gut.
Rachael staggered back, unable to defend the rapid burst of punches. But as soon as she looked up, Saeko was lunging forward with another knee thrust. Rachael blocked her knee and pushed her back, opening up some distance between them. Before Saeko could close the gap, Rachael reached back with her clinched fist and let her have it.
THRACK!!!
The next thing Saeko knew, she was on the ground looking up at the blue sky.
“Are you alright?” Endo asked, leaning over her.
“What happened?”
“You got knocked out cold, kid,” Endo replied, helping Saeko sit up.
“You did well,” she heard Rachael say. “But you still have a lot to learn.” Rachael rubbed her fist. Obviously the blow had taken its toll on her knuckles, too.
Still a little light headed from the blow, Saeko stumbled to her feet, with Endo’s assistance. “I’m alright,” she said briskly to Endo, letting him know he needn’t bother helping her along like a helpless child.
“Understood,” he said, then took a step back.
Saeko turned back toward her teacher. “I’m ready to go one more round, if you are,” she told her.
“If you’re up for it then I am,” Rachael said. Rachael cracked her neck from side to side and stretched her arms over her head and behind her back as she limbered up for an even more vigorous round of sparring.
As fun as it was getting her ass handed to her, Saeko’s real training was as a swordswoman. Picking up her uchigatana, a longer form of a katana, Saeko looked over at Rachael and asked, “Do you mind?”
“Be my guest,” Rachael said, gesturing with her hand for Saeko to proceed.
Noticing that Rachael wasn’t drawing out her long blade, Saeko asked, “Aren’t you going to use your sword?”
“Don’t need it,” Rachael said. “Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“Suit yourself,” Saeko rejoined, matching bravado with bravado. “It’s your funeral.”
Saeko drew her sword, then steadied it high above her head, and took a deep breath. They had already gone two rounds, and although Saeko had landed a few good punches, she’d ultimately lost each match. But this time, she was determined to show Rachael her real skillset.
Shouting a ferocious “Kiii-yah!” Saeko dashed forward with a swift attack, bringing her blade crashing down onto Rachael’s position. There was a white-hot flash of steel; then, without warning, sparks flew and a loud clangor rang out as the sword smashed into a large rock. Rachael, who had been standing in front of the boulder, was nowhere to be seen. Saeko was baffled. Rachael had seemingly vanished before her very eyes. “What the…?”
“Looking for me?” a voiced called out from behind her.
Saeko spun around to see Rachael standing five feet directly behind her. “Impossible. How did you—?”
Suddenly, Rachael lunged forward with a force so powerful that her speed caused the leaves on the forest floor to swirl about in her wake. With a shattering blow, Rachael’s fist smashed into the side of Saeko’s ribcage. Saeko screamed out in pain as three of her ribs instantly snapped like brittle twigs; a millisecond later, she found herself flying through the air like a bullet. Saeko’s body slammed into the side of the boulder so forcefully that it fractured the rock, sending out a web of cracks from the point of impact.
Stunned, Saeko fell to the ground. And, although every bone in her body felt as though it had shattered, she forced herself to sit up. She hadn’t felt this battered since the helicopter crash.
Saeko exerted all the remaining stamina she had in an attempt to ignore the pain, but once again, the pain was overwhelming. She groaned and fell back to the ground, landing face first in the dirt, unconscious.
Shaking her head, Saeko opened her eyes. Her sword was an arm’s reach away, lodged in the ground like a spear. She reached over and tore it free, then quickly rose to her feet. “My turn,” she whispered, her face growing serious. No more Ms. Nice Girl. If Rachael wanted to see her go berserk, Saeko would go oblige her.
Raising the sword high above her head, Saeko screamed and dashed toward Rachael at a full sprint. Rachael merely looked at Saeko with disappointment.
Saeko’s blade cut the air, making a whipping sound, but even as her attack was faster than the human eye could detect, somehow Rachael still managed to catch the shining blade between the palms of her hands. Saeko’s eyes grew wide with surprise. “Okay, you’re definitely going to have to teach me how to do that.”
With a quick twist of her hips, but keeping her hands tightly pressed together, Rachael snapped the blade in half then knocked the shattered sword out of Saeko’s hands with a sharp kick. Before Saeko could react, she felt Rachael’s knee hit her right in the gut. Crumpling over onto her hands and knees, Saeko puked her guts out onto ground.
“I’ll teach you discipline, control, and technique. All the things you’ll need to make your own body the perfect weapon—one no opponent can break. Then, when you’re ready, I’ll help you get your revenge.”
“Deal,” Saeko huffed, out of breath.
Endo ran up to Saeko, who was resting on her knees panting, and put his hand on her back. “Are you alright?” he asked.
“I’ll be fine,” Saeko said between gasps. “Just give me a minute to catch my breath.”
Endo looked up at Rachael and smiled, then unexpectedly said, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“She’s been needing that for a long time.”
“A beating?” Rachael joked.
“No,” Endo said. “A teacher.”
“I’m afraid today’s going to be a long day.”
“How do you mean?”
“I promised her,” Rachael said, nodding in Saeko’s direction, “that I’d help her get her revenge. The thing is, we’ll have to work hard and act fast. If we wait too long, Gen’s soldiers will arm themselves, fortify, and have time to prepare for our attack. But if we move now, they’ll be caught unprepared, unequipped to adequately defend themselves, and the odds will be tipped in our favor.”
“Well, then…” Saeko said, standing back up. She cracked her neck, rolled her shoulders, and straightened her back. “We’d better get on with it.”
Rachael smiled and nodded in the affirmative. There was still much to cover before the day was done.
65
In the Service of Avarice
Tokyo Skytree, Upper Observation Deck, Japan
Ragged I-beams, burnt and disfigured by the explosion, jutted out in what remained of the uppermost portion of the Tokyo Skytree. They looked like the gnarled fingers of a mangled claw. In the palm of the metal beast’s steel hand sat Ijin Gen, wrapped head to foot in bandages. After being horribly disfigured in the treacherous blast that destroyed his citadel, he was finally able to let down the façade of whatever humanity he had pretended to have and was finally free to wear the monster within on the outside of his skin. For the first time in his life, he felt completely liberated.
Gen tugged on the cuffs of his Armani designer suit; he looked like an Egyptian mummy with posh fashion sense. Chapped and burned, his red, bleeding lips stretched painfully taught across his white teeth as he grinned unnervingly. It was a smile reminiscent of The Joker’s manic grin—a smile that was both overly tight and delighted and, simultaneously, overly toothy and menacing. A grin which could hardly conceal its rancor. Gen swore he would exact revenge on those who’d humiliated him if it was the last thing he ever did.
With a grunt, he stood up and sauntered across the burnt husk o
f the observation deck. He looked out across the monochromatic sky beset with dark purple clouds pregnant with rain. The bleak weather seemed to match his mood as he wallowed in the frustration of his recent defeat at Aokigahara village. Down below, Gen spied some movement, and, inching forward to the edge, he peered over the fractured cement and tousled rebar of his crumbling citadel and strained to see what all the commotion was about.
“What’s this?” he mumbled aloud to himself as he gazed out across the drab gray of the decrepit Tokyo cityscape. There was a disturbance on the street, and suddenly a fit of gunfire erupted and a skirmish began. Looking closer, his eyes fixed themselves upon the two dark figures, from his perch they were no bigger than tiny ants, but they easily dispatched his guards and approached his citadel.
Luckily, Gen had fortified the entire perimeter of the Skytree with a wall of steel shipping containers, stacked two deep and three crates high. Nothing would get past it except through the front entrance. And even if intruders managed to get to the main gate, he had a little surprise waiting for them.
Maya Nishimori sauntered up to his side and debriefed him of the situation. “The American and the school girl have breached our perimeter. I have dispatched two security contingents to intercept them before they get to the tower, but I’m afraid it won’t be enough to stop them.”
Ijin Gen laughed a deep and diabolical laugh. Coughing and choking on a buildup of phlegm, he cleared his throat, and replied, “Stop them? Who said anything about stopping them? Let them come!”
Gen laughed again, but his short burst of merriment quickly turned into another fit of hacking and coughing. It was no big surprise that Gen’s chronic smoking had finally caught up to him. By now his lungs were burdened with the residue of a sticky, nicotine laced tar that gave him a sticky, sickly laugh; the raging fire had just been the final blow.
Maya bent over out of concern and asked, “Can I help you?”
Fishing out a fresh cigarette, Gen raised his hand and stopped her. Clearing his throat a second time, he stood up and grabbed her by the neck. “Did I ask for your sympathy?”
Maya gasped through pinched windpipes. As he choked her, she grew excited and reached down with her hand and grabbed his dick and squeezed. The pain of her squeezing his seared penis, still raw and blistered with third degree burns, caused him to grunt through clinched teeth. Gen let go of Maya’s throat and set her back on her feet, then fetched a lighter from his pocket and nonchalantly lit his cigarette.
Maya licked her lips, aroused by his rough play. She grabbed her chest, squeezed her breasts tightly between her long fingers, and moaned. Pinching her knees together, she turned her head dramatically to the left, still mashing her breasts which oozed out between her fingers, and let out a sigh of masochistic delight.
Puffing on his cigarette, Gen ignored her micro-orgasm. He locked his arms behind his back and turned away from her to look out at the dreary sky. In a hoarse voice, he said, “Lure them to our doorstep peacefully with a white flag. Tell them I would like to bury the hatchet, as the Americans say, and put the past behind us. Inform them that I’m willing to negotiate a truce between their people and ours. Invite Saeko and her American friend up in the spirit of diplomacy. Once they let their guard down…kill them.” Gen paused, took a long drag on his cigarette, held it in, and then, after a few seconds, let out a long stream of hazy smoke. With a bloodthirsty snarl, he added, “Make it painful.”
“As you command, my Lord.” Maya said, making a deep, reverent bow. Then, without saying another word, she turned on her heels, determined to carry out her orders, and left Gen by himself to gaze out into the dark abyss.
66
Deadly Liaisons
The Silver Fast, Anchored off the Coast of
Alcatraz Island
“Where am I?” Alyssa said, rubbing her head. She sat up, but instantly realized it was perhaps a little too abrupt. The room spun around her and she felt more than a little dazed and confused. It was obvious to her that she’d been drugged, but for what reason or to what end she couldn’t say.
The room slowly came into focus as she squinted at her surroundings. Alyssa found herself lying in a bed in one of the poshest suites she’d ever seen. The walls were an elegant cherry wood; original oils hung tastefully around the room. To her left was a bubble-glass wall through which she could see a marble-tiled bathroom. There was an ornate pedestal sink next to a standing shower and a deep, clawfoot tub. The thought of soaking in that tub made Alyssa sigh with pleasure. Throughout the bedroom there was a soft, amber glow from ambient lighting tucked craftily away in high, unseen crevices beneath crown molding.
Alyssa rubbed her eyes and thought hard, but for the life of her she couldn’t recall how she’d come here. Not only that, but she couldn’t remember anything since the pier. The last solid memory was of her talking with Gordon about making a run for it; then she suddenly felt woozy. That sensation had been quickly followed by blackness.
“You’re on a private yacht,” a voice said.
Alyssa startled and turned toward a young man near her own age, perhaps his early twenties, who sat tied to a chair in the corner of her room. He sat facing the wall opposite him, his arms bound behind his back with black rope. By the sound of his lackadaisical speech and the way his head kept slowly nodding off, Alyssa presumed he’d also been drugged. “Who are you?” she asked.
“My name is Kevin Benjamin Russell. I was…kidnapped. I’ve been a prisoner…on this boat for…I think, about ten days now.”
“I was brought here against my will as well,” Alyssa said. After a short pause, she enquired further. “Do you have any clue what I might be doing here?”
“I overheard them say something about an exchange. Apparently, I’m being traded for you.”
“Are you important or something?”
Kevin laughed. “I’m afraid not, Ms…?”
“Alyssa. Alyssa Briggs.”
“Well, Alyssa, I’m of no value to anyone. At least not alive.” In the past year, Kevin had done more killing than he’d have liked. It had gotten to the point where he was seriously questioning whether or not he was a good person.
“Don’t be that way,” Alyssa said sternly. “We all have value.”
“Even the killers?” he said, lowering his gaze. He spoke quietly and hoped she hadn’t heard him.
With that, she got up and walked over to him.
Slowly, Kevin raised his eyes and looked at her with solemn eyes. Her auburn hair glowed in the soft lighting and gave her an angelic quality.
Alyssa bent down to him and waved her hand in front of his face. “Are you alright? Did they drug you or something?”
Kevin smiled, then quickly leaned in and kissed Alyssa right on the lips.
Unsure of what to do, Alyssa waited, wide-eyed with shock, for the kiss to finally stop. Sitting back, she asked, “What was that for?”
“You just looked so pretty standing there.”
“Thank you,” Alyssa said, brushing her hair behind her ear. “But I think you’ve definitely been drugged.”
Kevin smiled again. “Yes. I think you’re right.”
“The only question is, why did they drug you? If we're on a yacht, I doubt you could get away.”
Kevin replied with another doped-up grin. “As it so happens,” he said proudly, “I am a pretty adept escape artist. Mistress Nishimori took extra precautions to ensure I didn’t jump ship the moment we saw land.”
“Let me untie you and we can get off this godforsaken boat together.”
“Even if you untied me,” Kevin informed her, “I’m afraid I’m not in any condition to make a run for it.”
“So you’ve resigned yourself to just sit here then?”
“I have nothing better to do,” Kevin answered with a shrug. He chuckled momentarily to himself, as if something were terribly funny, although he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.
“Suit yourself,” Alyssa said. “But I’m getting off th
is boat.” Alyssa walked over to the door and pulled up on the handle, but it was locked. “Dammit,” she muttered under her breath.
Just then the door slid open and an Asian woman with dark skin and platinum blonde hair stood staring back at her from behind smoldering, dark eyes.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Alyssa said. “I was just looking for the ladies room.”
“This is Ms. Nishimori,” Kevin informed her, introducing the two women.
“Nice to mee—”
“You!” Nishimori snapped, cutting Alyssa off. Pointing her finger at Kevin, she ordered, “Make yourself presentable. We have been invited to the Queen’s banquet.”
“Yes, mom,” Kevin replied sarcastically, giggling to himself.
“And you!” the woman said, redirecting her finger and accompanying scowl toward Alyssa. “I believe this thing belongs to you.”
Just then a small bark came out of nowhere and a Pembroke corgi with orange and white fur trotted into the room. Elated to be reunited with her dog, Alyssa screamed out, “Frank!” and scooped the pup up into her arms, letting Frank lather her with wet doggie kisses.
“Whoa!” Kevin said, diverting his eyes in faux embarrassment. “Get a room, you two.” He began laughing again, although, to be honest, the joke wasn’t all that funny. He stopped laughing, not because his joke was unfunny, but rather because, for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what about the situation he had thought so funny in the first place.
Mia Nishimori walked up to Kevin, pulled his chin up so his eyes met hers, and then leaned in and kissed him long and hard on the mouth. With tears in her eyes and a quiver in her lip, she informed him, “You have ten minutes.”
It really did seem as though she were torn up inside about having to relinquish him. After all, he’d practically been her personal sex-slave for two weeks on this lonely ship. Not that he'd minded. She was extremely attractive to him, in the bad-girl sort of way. Besides, he really had nothing better to do. He was a veritable Nowhere Man, living in his own Nowhere Land.