Hisao and Kenji- Master Detectives! Conclusion? Update

[Hoitash]

We fight and we win, cuz dat’s what orks do! WAAAAGGGHHH!

(This is what happens when writers are unemployed or unpaid, folks. Take heed of my warning. And pass the want ads when you’re done with them, if you could.)

Previous Chapter

Part Three: Infiltration


The plan had two serious problems with it, as I saw it. One, the three of us arrived on the freighter the day before the Illuminati higher-ups did. So we had to play security while not getting caught for what we were. We also had to not be recognized, but we would be wearing sunglasses and gas masks on the mission, so that wasn’t really an issue. The other problem was sabotaging the place and offing the leaders without getting killed. Then there was the problem of escaping. Okay, it had a few problems, but at least when it came time to sabotage and murder, that was getting split up between us. Mrs. Donovan didn’t have to do much besides vouch for us and help us escape, so she wasn’t in too much danger. The biggest danger Claudia faced was that if her boss found out, he’d probably cut off the communication. And be pissed off, but she was used to that.

So I was less then optimistic when Kenji and I stood waiting at a small airport on the edge of town. Josefina Lupo-Donovan was being flown in by a company jet, and the three of us would leave for the freighter the next day. It was short notice, but apparently the Illuminati preferred it that way. We waited in the small lobby of the airport, sitting in those uncomfortable plastic chairs lobbies the world over seem to be fitted with. I was skimming my translated copy of War of the Worlds while Kenji was going over a magazine on painting techniques. Despite his poor eyesight, he did have a knack for patterns, and he and Miya enjoyed painting together; Miya preferred it to digital artwork for her advert work. It also lent the work a retro look that was popular in certain circles.

The airport was too small for most of the fancy devices related to flights, so a woman over the airport’s PA system simply announced the arrival of our expected flight. We tucked away our respective reading materials as we stood up to wait by Mrs. Donovan’s departure gate. Considering she was the only passenger, it still took a while for her to appear through the building’s lone gate. Again, the airport was so small, as was her plane, that she simply walked down the runway and to the nearest door that eventually led to the gate, which itself was just two sets of glass doors with a metal detector.

Mrs. Donovan strode out of the gate to the lobby, holding a large black briefcase in her right hand. She paused slightly at the entrance to present her passport to a waiting attendant behind the podium. After the attendant stamped her passport, she continued her confident stride towards us. She had tanned skin and relatively short, dark brown hair that flowed behind her head, and she was wearing a black skirted suit. She bowed to us and put her right index finger to her right ear.

“So, do these things actually work?” she asked into the earpiece. Getting a set with the translator program built in had been a serious pain, but we needed to all be able to understand each other, and Weyland didn’t mind footing the bill for them. The headsets were common equipment for the freighter’s security, so at least we wouldn’t look out of place.

“Indeed they do,” I said, returning the bow; Kenji and I were wearing ones, too. The monotone voice over the earpiece didn’t mimic it, but she had a slightly dry, raspy voice. With her closer I also noticed her brown eyes. Kenji introduced us while I asked Claudia if she was listening in.

“Yeah, just making sure these things are working,” Claudia piped in, “how are you, Jo?”

“Very well, Claudia. How’re you?”

I could almost hear Claudia shrug, “okay, considering.”

“You two know each other,” Kenji observed.

Mrs. Donovan nodded and looked around, “we look weird here, we should go.”

I nodded, “I can take you to our office, you can hold out there until we need to leave tomorrow. Kenji wants you to look over our equipment before we go, anyway.”

Mrs. Donovan looked less then thrilled with that idea, but she nodded and left the airport. By “equipment” I had meant “weapons.” Kenji had a wide array of pistols, grenades, and Tesla weaponry, and he wanted to make sure someone with security experience went over it, and confirmed it was what freighter security would be carrying around. Claudia had to get back to bed, so she hung up while I drove us back to Kenji’s office.

“It’d be nice to play tourist after this,” Mrs. Donovan said, “you two have a nice country.”

“We’d like to think so,” I said, “maybe you can relax a bit when we get back?”

“Maybe,” her eyes narrowed in a dark look for a moment, “whose crazy idea was this, anyway?”

I jerked my head towards Kenji as he sat next to me, “his.”

Mrs. Donovan grunted, “well, you are insane, Mr. Setou.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Donovan,” Kenji responded, smiling widely.

Mrs. Donavan was probably stunned into silence by that, since she didn’t say anything until we were in Kenji’s well locked office. Kenji immediately stalked over to his desk and started pulling out grenades and pistols. Mrs. Donovan looked them over thoroughly and slowly, examining each pistol closely. When she was done she smiled and nodded.

“Bring the Colt and the Browning, two flashbangs each, and two smoke grenades. Don’t bring any frag grenades or any Tesla weapons, and bring plenty of ammo -at least three or four clips each.”

Well, at least Kenji had the weaponry part of the plan covered well. In that regard he was usually prepared. Mrs. Donovan heaved her briefcase onto the desk and opened it. The gas masks and sunglasses were in it, along with Mrs. Donovan’s weapon of choice, a modern black glock and nearly a dozen clips of ammo. One of these days I needed to find out how people kept smuggling weapons into the country- through customs, no less. Maybe it was better for my sanity if I just rolled with it.

“We can wear these suits on the freighter,” Mrs. Donovan said, “so all we need to do is not draw attention when you two set the charges and… what’re you going to do about the leaders?”

Kenji reached into the desk again and pulled out three large packs. They were all painted gray and looked like metal boxes.

“I’m planting a charge in the meeting room,” he said, patting the nearest chunk of C-4, “it’s on a linked charge with the one in the engine room. When the one in the engine room is remote detonated, the other two will follow on a three second fuse, which can be overrode if we need more time,” Kenji snapped his fingers, likely from remembering something, “was your boss able to get us on a security route in or near the leader’s meeting?”

Mrs. Donovan shook her head, “Mr. Weyland tried, but he couldn’t pull it off. He did, however, get me on that detail. So I’ll plant that charge, you can set the one in the security room, and Mr. Nakai can handle the engine room.”

I sighed and looked carefully at the woman, “are you sure about that?”

She nodded, “I knew I’d have to when I agreed to this.”

I sighed again and shrugged, “if you’re sure, then.”

Mrs. Donovan nodded, her face set, “like I said, I knew the risks. Mr. Weyland said this mission was important, and so I’m here. And if either of you get killed, I’ll kill you.”

That got an amused grunt from Kenji and I, “likewise.”

After a quick review of the plan and some local sight-seeing, we returned to the office, Kenji tossed Mrs. Donovan my old sleeping bag, and we left for our own homes. I spent some quality time with my family, and probably too much time kneeling at our family shrine, but every bit helps. Unfortunately, it also got Hanako’s attention.

“Hisao?” Hanako asked me late that night. I was still kneeling in front of the family memorial, long after the children had gone to bed and the lights were mostly off. She was wearing a bright pink cotton nightgown, while I was still wearing my suit pants and a buttoned shirt.

“I’ll be up soon,” I said as she peered in from the kitchen. It led to the dining and the living room, which was where we had placed the family memorial. Above an offering of vanilla tea and rice was two small framed pictures. One showed my long dead grandparents in their late sixties. The other, badly singed around the edges, showed a relatively young man and his wife. The man had dark brown hair and a thin beard, but his eyes were the same color and had the same curious glint to them as my wife. His wife had the same hair color and facial structure as Hanako, though her hair was cropped shorter.

I had more or less been trying to get an answer from Hanako’s parents about whether or not I was doing the right thing. I complained a lot about Kenji’s plans, but never really questioned them. This time, though, I had serious doubts, and I needed some way to assuage them. A grizzly thought occurred to me, so I looked up from the floor and up to Hanako, who had entered the room properly.

“Hana, if you were passing by a burning building,” the shock and hesitation sculpted onto her face made me regret what I said immediately, but I had to do this, “and you heard someone inside screaming for help, if no one else was around, would you go in and help them?”

She didn’t even hesitate to nod vigorously, “absolutely.”

“Even if neither of you might get out alive?” I asked, a little surprised by her passion.

Hanako glanced down at the singed photo, “all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing. If I had even a chance to save someone else’s life, shouldn’t I try?”

Hanako had watched her mother burn alive above her. Curled in a ball, she had watched the skin slough off muscle, the bones smoke and crack, all the while she screamed and begged for help as her own skin burned and blistered, and the smoke threatened to choke the life from her. Hanako survived that day, obviously, but she paid a terrible price; deep emotional scarring to go along with her physical ones. Those emotional scars had slowly healed over the last decade, but still, if she was willing to risk the fate of her mother to save someone else, I owed it to my family to do whatever I could to protect them.

I thanked Hanako and stood up, leaning in for a kiss. You don’t need to know what happened after that.

That morning, after picking up Mrs. Donovan at the office and Kenji at his place, I drove the three of us to a small commercial marina on the eastern side of the island. Small sailboats and motor boats were docked next to old wooden piers and newer metal ones.

A motor boat would pick us up within the hour, so we made sure we had everything we’d need to complete the mission, not get recognized in the future, and escape in once piece. This was also when Claudia was able to log in, grumbling about the time zone while she looked over the schematic of the freighter Kenji had sent her.

“I’m only sticking with you for a little while after you get to the ship,” Claudia’s monotone translated voice said in their ears.

“That’s fine, just remember to log back in the next day,” I said.

“Will do. They arrive at noon your time, right?”

“Right,” Kenji responded.

The boat that picked us up was a large speed boat, painted white -of course. It stopped near the edge of the marina in an unused pier. While it docked we put on our face masks, which were basically gas masks that didn’t cover anything above the eyes, so we looked like some multi-ethnic Bane cosplay. Not very efficient, but the sunglasses were safety glasses, so that made up for that. Once the engine died down, two men in light gray suits strode onto the pier and shakily made their way towards us. They both wore sunglasses and short but shaggy beards. That’s one way to disguise your face, I guess. The two approached us slowly and bowed lightly.

“Ms. D?” one of them, the taller of the two, asked Mrs. Donovan.

Mrs. Donovan nodded, “yes, and this is the rest of the security contribution from my employer.”

The two looked us up and down and grunted, “very well. We’ll escort you to the freighter and you can get the details of your assignments after you have arrived and undergone final clearance.”

The shorter of the two turned to us and said something, which neither of us got. Mrs. Donovan repeated what they said: “we’ll receive our earpieces with built-in translation software when we arrive.

“Crap,” I heard Claudia say in my ear.

Actually we were prepared for that -we did have two ears, after all. The only problem was that none of us could talk to Claudia, because the Illuminati headsets were always broadcasting as a safety feature.

After Mrs. Donovan had translated that last bit for us, we all nodded and started walking. The taller of the two took the lead, while the second one stepped behind us. The feeling of being trapped started to creep into my brain, ironically reminding me of my senior year and a certain Student Council. They didn’t have guns, though, and I was sure these two had something concealed somewhere.

I’ve never been in a boat before, so getting off the pier and onboard was a bit of a problem for me. The others didn’t seem to have that problem, but I nearly stumbled off the boat into the water. I steadied myself and looked around the boat. The inside looked pretty comfortable, with two padded black seats in the front -sorry, bow- behind a screen of glass and a bunch of instruments, and the steering wheel, of course. The rest of the boat was lined with bench like black padded seats, except at the back around the boats twin motors. Mrs. Donovan seemed interested in the motors, and she sat close to the one on the left as we sat down. Kenji and I sat across from her, while our ride took their spots in the front.

The boat roared to life, and after easing away from the marina, it zoomed off towards the open ocean. The midday sun was bright and clear as the land behind us slowly faded into the horizon. We spent an hour or two zooming along the ocean, at speeds that made me nauseous when I looked anywhere except the floor of the boat. Kenji and Mrs. Donovan didn’t seem to mind. Halfway through Claudia had to log out and came back a bit later muttering something about the gooery needing maintenance. After a while we started to slow and I reluctantly looked up. We were approaching the large super freighter, its massive black hull looming close by, getting ever larger as we continued to get closer.

The boat continued to slow, the engines dying down to a dull murmur as we approached the massive ship’s hull. The boat slowly eased next to a long metal stairway attached to the side of the freighter. Our non-driving escort spoke to Mrs. Donovan, and she said we needed to head up the stairs, which I kind of figured. Mrs. Donovan started first, with me and Kenji behind her, and our non driving escort behind us. The boat engines roared again and the boat slowly puttered off somewhere. I was too busy hanging on to the railing to notice where he went.

Slogging my way up the long stairway, I eventually managed to set foot on the freighter’s hull. It was metal, like almost everything I saw. The bridge was in the back on top of a large blocky building like structure, on top of which maybe a dozen different antennae and radar dishes were attached. A helipad was at the bow of the ship. The rest of the deck was pretty open, except in front of us, where six men in suits waited for us at the top of the stairway. Three of them had light gray suits, so they were full-fledged Illuminati members. The other three had black suits, so they must’ve been someone’s contribution. As soon as all of us were on board our escort started talking to the other six. When he was done he gave us a stiff nod and trotted off.

The three gray suited men took a step forward and pointed to two large crates next to us. One held body armor, and the other had earpieces in foam padding. One of the three in front indicated the earpieces and spoke to Mrs. Donovan, who told us we needed to put in an earpiece. We did so, sticking them in our left ears and tapping the on button, hoping they wouldn’t notice the ones in our right ears. We had tried to hide them as best we could, but if anyone got too close and knew what to look for, we would have some explaining to do. The leader of the three tapped his earpiece and started speaking.

“Can you hear me know?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” we responded. These devices were a bit more sophisticated then Weyland’s. The voice was still robotic, but it had tonality to it. Creepy, metallic tonality.

The leader smiled, “good. Your earpieces are automatically set to my personal command frequency. I am Mr. V, Chief of Security on the New Order, the freighter you are now on board. I will briefly explain the different frequencies and how to set your earpieces to them.”

That took some time to do. The earpieces had a setting for his command frequency, a frequency for all security personnel, and one for our security team, which was us and the three men in black suits behind Mr. V. They were from a Japanese company, apparently. After the orientation on the earpieces, he gave us our body armor to slip on under our jackets, and then finally led us down into the hull. We walked to the structure, where Mr. V opened a shut black door and gestured for us to step inside. A short distance from that door was a metal stairway, which we descended until we were led to a security check on one of the decks, through a door that led away from the stairway. At the checkpoint our personal items were viewed, inspected, and recorded. We also stepped through a metal detector, which, again thanks to Weyland, didn’t go off. I could already tell the inside of this ship was going to make me hate the color white. Every wall and ceiling was painted white.

After passing through the checkpoint, Mr. V showed us down a narrow hallway that led…somewhere. Converting an empty hull into a massive, sprawling complex had turned the ship into a maze. Another part of this plan hinged on Claudia’s ability to hack the ships security system, which she insisted would be easy. I sure hoped so, because I had gotten lost after the second left down a hallway. I noticed over some bulkhead doors there were black letters labeling what section of the ship we were in. When we got to Section C5, Mr. V stopped and opened one of the many plain white doors that we had passed a dozen or so times.

“This is your quarters,” Mr. V said, “you may settle in before you are briefed on your duties for this ship’s voyage. You are bunked by security team, and eventually each of you will be paired with a member of the other team, so make sure to maintain a professional and courteous attitude. Now, I must go. My second in command will arrive in two hours to brief you.”

Mr. V handed us six maps of the ship, which were very basic and showed the cafeteria, the lounges, and where the bathrooms were. He nodded to us and walked off, leaving us alone. The six of us entered the room and looked around. Three bunkbeds made of metal and cheap sheets and mattresses, and a couple of cheap metal chairs. A couple of lights in the ceiling, a security camera in the left corner near the door, and a small wooden coffee table. That was the room.

I switched my earpiece to the team frequency, “well, this is cozy.”

“I knew this job would suck,” one of the other men said.

“I know they’re not big on names here,” Mrs. Donovan said, “but if we’re stuck in here for the next few days we should probably introduce ourselves to each other.”

“Indeed,” one of the three said. He was their leader, and went by the name of Mr. M. The initial’s only for names was starting to irk me. The three of us introduced ourselves, Kenji and I using the fake names we had fabricated and given to Mr. Weyland.

At that point Claudia grumbled into her earpiece that she had to log out, and she’d be back when she had hacked the ship’s security system and a satellite they were using, so she could keep tabs even after we blew the security room. The Society leaders were arriving early the next day, so hopefully she’d be able to hack the system quickly.

Since everything we didn’t bring with us was provided, and since nearly everything we brought with us was a weapon, we didn’t have much to do while we waited for our second orientation. The six of us started up a card game -Kenji had brought a deck- and after the stated two hours someone knocked on our door before opening it.

“Security Teams Four and Five?” the person asked as he stepped through the door.

He was a relatively short man, the black hair on the sides of his head starting to gray, and I could hear a Russian accent as he spoke from the doorway. He was wearing, of course, a light gray suit, but he also had a sword sheathed and tied to his belt.

Mrs. Donovan and Mr. M confirmed his question, and he led us out and down the hall, stating his name was Mr. A. He spent two or three hours showing us around the ship, pointing out areas we
were allowed to visit, like the cafeteria and lounge. Then he paired us up into groups of two. Mrs. Donovan and Mr. M were paired, Kenji went with the one who called himself Mr. J, and I was paired with a Mr. K. He was a rather plain looking man, with sandy blond hair and a slightly stocky build.

Once that was done we were finally told our actual job: patrol a certain path for two hours, then a different path for two hours, and so on. The halls were too narrow for us to actually patrol with our partners, so instead we had to check in with them every fifteen minutes on the team frequency. He gave us copies of our daily routes, which I appreciated, and a short pamphlet on what to do in various situations. Anything from someone having a heart attack -hopefully not myself- to an incoming missile strike was covered. At least they were thorough. Without further ado we were led to our routes, told our duties were important and not to be taken lightly, and Mr. A marched off to somewhere else.

So we spent the rest of the day before dinner patrolling. I had spent so much time shooting these people, I never really had time to appreciate how boring their jobs were. Maybe that’s how Kenji staid slightly less insane then he used to be- he pretended he was putting them out of their misery by killing them. Or he drank. Either way, boring work and boring dinner aside, at least we were in. Now all we had to do was plant some bombs and take out the leaders of the most powerful Secret Society on the planet.

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Next Chapter

Hmm, I think that went well. Thank you for the advice, Oddball. I am sadly rather reliant on feedback to improve my writing, so I very much appreciate your help.

[Helbereth]

I am sadly rather reliant on feedback to improve my writing, so I very much appreciate your help.

Don't I know it...

[Hoitash]

I am sadly rather reliant on feedback to improve my writing, so I very much appreciate your help.

Don't I know it...

You're help is appreciated, too

I wish I could be a great writer on my own, but apparently the only thing I'm good at is... making people laugh. Oh, and I make good muffins.

[Silentcook]

One of the reasons I wrote this was because I was bored; posting it was a result of writing it (I wrote all this, may as well post it. Thinking about it didn't occur until recently; it was mostly to entertain myself.)

Always an extremely bad idea.

I'll be honest, I couldn't bear to do more than skim through the thing. Mainly because I've seen so many iterations of this - take characters from setting A, shove them into setting B, law of opposites kicks in, instant hilarity is supposed to ensue - that I've become heartily sick of it. But that's my problem.

Your problem is that after doing a simple name substitution exercise nothing seems amiss in a whole lot of the writing. Replacing "Bob" for "Kenji", "Frank" for "Hisao", and so on and so forth, works perfectly well a lot of the time.

My question then is, why even use those characters if there's hardly anything to gain from them? Answers of "because this way I can post it on the KS forums" will result in me hurting you.

[Hoitash]

Your problem is that after doing a simple name substitution exercise nothing seems amiss in a whole lot of the writing. Replacing "Bob" for "Kenji", "Frank" for "Hisao", and so on and so forth, works perfectly well a lot of the time.

I was afraid of that. I wanted to make the plot pertinent to KS and its characters, and in the beginning I managed that, but I guess the story ran away from me as it progressed in that regard. I think I can bring it back, and I'll try to, but it'll be a rocky road, and I'll probably slide off every now and then.

My question then is, why even use those characters if there's hardly anything to gain from them? Answers of "because this way I can post it on the KS forums" will result in me hurting you.

God no, that wasn't the reason. Please don't hurt me.

My real inspiration for this was the The Adventures of Sherlock Hisao! I wanted to do something that was witty, had action, mystery elements, comedy, and above all, related to the characters I was using. Again, early on I did that, but the plot sort of veered away from that track, and getting it back will take time.

So now that everyone is mad at me, I ask for patience and feedback, so that I may bring this fic back to the roots of the first three Mysteries (Mystery Four is where things really went off kilter, I think.)

It won't be quick, it won't be easy, and it won't be constant, but I am aware of my faults, and will try my best to correct them. The fact that enough of you enjoy this series enough to want to see it improved helps me know that there is hope, fleeting though it may be.

[Hoitash]

Your patience in the current plot direction is appreciated, as is your feedback about how that direction is ruining the series. As I’ve said before, it is not permanent and will be rectified. I kinda need to finish this mystery first, though.

Besides, I need some way to start doling out handwaves

Also, I hope this part is as coherent on paper as it is in my head; all this planning and plotting and stealthing is making it hard for me to keep it straight.

Previous Chapter

Part Four: Placement


The next morning went well, though boring. At least I was able to take my meds. Sometime after breakfast we went to work walking up and down halls and checking in with our partners. The three of us quickly reviewed the plan as quietly and obscurely as we could, and we drifted off to our routes. Until Claudia logged in and hacked the ship’s security, we couldn’t deviate from our patrol routes without raising an alarm somewhere. The ship’s security’s automated alarms were insanely complex, and without Claudia we were screwed. We would still have to deal with the people watching the cameras, at least until we blew them up, but they would be slower to react then a computer.

Around the same time the leaders started arriving, according to the muted roar of an engine above us and the schedule we had been provided, I finally heard Claudia’s voice in my ear.

“Ugh, finally! That was the most complex security I’ve seen since I hacked the Warehouse! Thanks to my mad skills, I’ve overridden the automated security alerts. You need to be careful of the security on patrol, and the security guys watching the cameras, but your main problem is dealt with.”

“Thanks,” I said into my earpiece. Fortunately for us, the Illuminati earpieces did have a mute feature as a failsafe; against what I didn’t bother to think about too much.

I had already shoved the explosive pack into my suit, so now all I had to do was make my way to the engine room and plant a bomb without getting caught. Fortunately the bomb wasn’t too bulky, and my body armor and suit combined added enough stock to my frame that the odd lump didn’t attract any unwanted attention.

I suppressed a sigh, “Claudia, if I don’t survive this, tell my wife I love her.”

Claudia scoffed, “tell her yourself.”

“Hey, can we keep the chatter down?” Mrs. Donovan cut in.

“I’m having fun, Jo,” Claudia retorted, “I need to amuse myself until things go to hell and I need to guide you to the boat racks on deck.”

Thanks for reminding me, Claudia. The speed boats and life rafts were on the deck by now, on racks or stacked up somewhere on the deck. All we had to do was grab a speed boat and zoom away, James Bond style. And not die; that part was important.

“You want to amuse yourself, help me find the engine room,” I said.

“I can find my way on my own,” Kenji chimed in, “get Hisao where he needs to go.”

“Alright, one human GPS comin’ up.”

Claudia guided me to the engine room pretty well, steering me through the maze of white walls and doors that filled the bulk of the former super freighter. I just walked like I was on patrol and no one gave me any trouble. Once I got to the door to the engine room, things became complicated. The door to the engine room she was taking me to led to a catwalk above the engines. The door was a simple white door, but it was guarded by two men in light gray suits. I turned around into the nearest side hall, made sure no one else was around, and asked Claudia what I should do.

“Guarded, huh?” Claudia paused as she presumably examined the freighter’s schematics, “alright, plan B. I’ll lead you down a level. You’ll have to plant the bomb around the crew, so be careful.”

The route downstairs was pretty straightforward, and was unguarded, so I opened one of a thousand white metal doors and stepped into the engine room. It was a big, open white space with tons of noise and swarms of tubes and pipes leading from the massive engines to who knew where. The crew was dressed in dark gray jumpsuits as they wandered around checking dials, or altering fuel flows, and whatever else it was an engine crew did. One thing they did do was notice me, so I quickly explained that I was doing a random, quick sweep of the engine room to check for delinquent workers. A few of them understood me and translated into their crew frequency for me. After that they left me alone, so I started walking along the hulking dull metal engines, looking for a good spot to discreetly plant the bomb.

The bomb wouldn’t do a lot of damage. It was meant to distract security while the bomb in the camera room went off. Then the bomb in the meeting room would go, and Kenji and Mrs. Donovan would take out any survivors while I kept the escape route open. A lot of precise timing was involved, and if any one thing went wrong, well, you get the idea. Eventually I found a small opening in a bunch of copper pipes. It was large enough that the bomb would fit, and obscure enough that no one would find it unless they got on their back to work on the pipes themselves. I slowly eased the brown wrapped bomb from under my jacket and carefully eased it down beneath the tubes. Then I continued my supposed look around, announced everything was fine, and made my way back to the door I had entered through.

“Hold on,” I heard someone say in English, possibly with a heavy Scottish accent. I wheeled around and saw a scraggly guy with a very large axe tied to his back striding towards me. He wore a light blue suit and, like most of the contribution security, his face and eyes were obscured by a gas mask and shaded security goggles. The axe was probably as big as he was.

“Yes?” I asked, also in English. He stopped a few feet short of me and didn’t say anything for a while. Eventually he grunted and muttered into his earpiece.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. He was using the security frequency, so if I didn’t give a convincing answer, my cover was in serious trouble.

Thinking quickly, I slowly responded, “just following up a verbal report on a man ducking out of his patrol for a break.” The man stared at me for a while before grunting.

“A break. In the engine room?” he asked, eyebrow raised and arms folded in front of him.

I shrugged, “apparently he was an engineer before going into security.”

“Oh,” he said. He grunted again and nodded, “alright, carry on.”

I made sure I was out in the hallway again before sighing in relief; even the Illuminati’s hiring standards had faltered in the wake of the wars. Of course, quality was a quantity all its own.

“That coulda been sucky,” Claudia remarked, “Jo, Kenji, how’re you doing?”

“My bomb is in place,” Mrs. Donovan said, “Mr. Setou, what’s your status?”

“Trying not to get caught,” he whispered, “one of the High Elders is passing by my patrol and I can’t leave it until he’s through, so I can’t place my bomb.”

“Copy that, I’ll converge on your path now so we can engage as soon as the bomb is in place,” Mrs. Donovan said.

“I’ll lead Jo first, then Hisao, okay?” Claudia asked.

“That works,” I replied, “I need to check in and change my route anyway.”

That had been simple enough, but Kenji was having trouble getting close to the meeting room. Security there was on the bounce, all right- if you weren’t supposed to be near the meeting room, you weren’t going to be there. Making things worse, Mrs. Donovan’s route around the meeting room didn’t get close to where Kenji needed to be to get the bomb close. With security in the area packed and paranoid, route deviation would probably alert security the old fashioned way. We had been hoping the two could meet up before we started setting off bombs, but it looked like that was out of the question.

“We need a new plan,” Mrs. Donovan said after our estimated timeframe went over and she was still off of where the plan said she needed to be.

“Claudia, get me as close as you can,” Kenji said, “Mrs. Donovan, too. We’ll shoot our way there and throw the bomb at the first clump of higher-ups we see.”

“That’s suicide,” everyone else said.

An idea formed in my mind, and I quickly cut in, “stick to the plan and blow mine first. That’ll distract and confuse security for a second. Blast the security room after that and then you two can go to town.”

“The bombs linked charges need to be deactivated,” Mrs. Donovan countered, “and the bombs themselves need to be set off independantly. Can you do that, Claudia?”

“Hells yeah, I can!” her enthusiasm managed to penetrate the monotone of the translator, so I didn’t doubt her for a moment. Kenji had prepared for this possibility, fortunately.

“Then do it when we’re close,” Mrs. Donovan said. I couldn’t tell from the translator, but I doubt she liked our improvisation. Tough; we didn’t have a lot of choices.

“Hisao’s position is still viable,” Claudia said, “so I’ll get him there.”

“Thanks,” I responded; I had given up trying to figure out where I was three minutes after I arrived on the damn boat.

“Good luck,” Mrs. Donovan said, “and for the record, this is a bad idea.”

“Duly noted,” I said.

“And if I die, my husband is gonna kick you’re asses.”

Getting Kenji to alternate point was a pain, and by the time he was in position the meeting was in full swing, according to the schedule. Constantly wandering through white hallways that all looked the same was starting to make me nervous. If it wasn’t for Claudia, I would’ve been walking around in circles. To make things worse, I tensed every time I passed someone in the halls.

“Okay, blow the engine room bomb and get me in position,” I said, “and remember to guide Mrs. Donovan into position when we blow security; she needs to back up Kenji.”

A few seconds later I heard a soft rumble echo through the ship. As Claudia guided me, small groups of security started to trot towards the explosion, or to key areas of the ship. Then the security frequency started buzzing.

“Attention all security personnel, an explosive device has been detonated in the engine room. Damage minimal, casualties none, though several workers are wounded. Secure key areas and await further instructions. Security team’s Alpha through Hypo, maintain your routes.”

That included my team. Oops.

“Crap,” Claudia said, “well, ignore that, you’ll just have to cheese it to your positions.”

Mrs. Donovan had to maintain her route for a few more seconds, but meanwhile, Kenji was apparently having trouble finding a new spot for his bomb. Eventually, he gave up and dumped it in a broom closet down the hall from the meeting room. By then I was almost in position. I was only off by one side hall and a flight of stairs when my security partner reported in.

“Mr. I, where are you?” he asked.

Crap, “I’m on my way now.”

“Well, hurry up. My boss can’t reach Ms. D, and Mr. H isn’t answering either. What the hell is going on?”

“No idea,” double crap. I muted my Illuminati earpiece to bark at Claudia, “blow the security room or we’re going to be caught soon.”

“Alright, distraction B, coming right up. Oh, and I’m jamming security communications, so you can stop muting your earpieces every time you want to talk to me.”

Another low rumble echoed through the ship, and I continued on my way towards my position in a side hall near a main hallway that led to one of the few stairways that went straight to the deck. Naturally it would be the most crowded once we finished the job. So my job was to keep it as clear as I could while Mrs. Donovan and Kenji ran for it. It was farther from them then I would have liked, but the position offered the best chance for me to keep a route of retreat open, and live to tell about it.

“Things are getting nuts down here,” Mrs. Donovan said, “they know something is up.”

“Should I blow the last bomb?” Claudia asked.

“Do it,” Kenji said, “we’re as good as we’re gonna get.”

“You got it.”

Another rumble, this one closer and louder, rocked its way through the ship. I heard a group of security pass down the hall perpendicular to my hallway in front of me. One of them, a lanky man with dirty blond hair, stopped to shout at me while all but one other kept moving.

Claudia said she was jamming communications, but when he started speaking I un-muted my earpiece and heard him say, “hey, get over here, we need to secure the evac route for the meeting room!”

“Crap, short range communications still work,” Claudia said, “those have a wired system running them that I can’t access.”

Brownie points to the Illuminati for their Kenji-like paranoia, at least. I responded with the first thing that came to mind, “my orders are to stay here.”

“Emergency protocols have been enacted,” he replied, “those override any orders unless they came from the leadership, so get moving!”

I suppressed a sigh as the stealth portion of our plan slowly rumbled away. I started to think up a good lie as one last chance for stalling when two more security guards showed up behind him; both of them were shorter than the first speaker, with short black hair and US style cavalry sabers tied to their belts.

“Someone’s attacking the Leadership, we need to stop them!” one of them blurted through the earpiece.

“How can you be sure?” I asked; with main communications down the earpiece had switched to the entire security staff frequency as yet another failsafe.

“Barking chain through the earpieces, now c’mon!”

These guys weren’t going to take no for an answer, I could tell that much. I had tried to avoid being reckless when it came to the Societies, but after a year of gunfights, power armor, and nightmares involving my actions or my identity being discovered, I was getting sick of dealing with them. I always figured Kenji was the reckless one, but at least when he did crazy shit, he had a plan. Plan or no and intelligent or not, I decided to hell with it and sighed while reaching into my jacket to pull out my Colt.

+++
Next Chapter

I figure by now Hisao is as fed up as you folks are. Until next time, I’m gonna lament the cost of anime fandom.

Ooh! Azu-nyan coffee mugs!

[Oddball]

Also, a few of the later Mysteries may be action heavy as required by the plot.

Keep in mind, action heavy doesn't always mean that everybody is blasting away at each other with lighting guns and automatic weapons. A simple street fight or shoot out with pistols can be action heavy.

Anyway, that scene where Hisao is talking with Hanako, Hisao feels more like himself than he has since the start of case one. The feel doesn't last long, but it seems like you at least relize where you've messed everything up.

[Hoitash]

Keep in mind, action heavy doesn't always mean that everybody is blasting away at each other with lighting guns and automatic weapons. A simple street fight or shoot out with pistols can be action heavy.

That has been an issue with me. I keep thinking I need to amp up the tension by having more dudes to shoot at. That just desensitizes the audience- bad idea.

Again, that issue has been more or less resolved in the future . I tried something with this half of the first arc, and it fell flat. Glad I tried though, and I'm also glad to have readers willing to provide great feedback.

Anyway, that scene where Hisao is talking with Hanako, Hisao feels more like himself than he has since the start of case one. The feel doesn't last long, but it seems like you at least relize where you've messed everything up.

Thanks, I felt that's what I was missing- what good is he whining about his family if you never see them? I cooked that up while running and went with it.

[Helbereth]

If you need someone to kick you in the teeth and tell you you're doing it wrong, you could do worse than an internet forum. Most of what I kept bringing up was the structure and such, but, yeah, you might have forgotten, at some point, who Hisao, Kenji and Hanako were in the original tale. The story became less character-driven and even lost its noir edge a little, but I've been too distracted to point it out.

The other writing you've been showing me has actually been a vast improvement, which may be due to it being more recent. I can't even look at the reunion story I wrote here for five minutes without wanting to close the page and start slamming my head into a wall to distract me from how poorly it was written. The recent things I've written are less jarring, but I still find myself face-palming when I read a passage that makes no damned sense.

It's a learning experience.

[Hoitash]

I have the same feeling about USM. I loved writing it and I'm glad I did, but argh, my kingdom for a redo.

Sigh...someday I'll be a competent writer At least I'm having fun along the way.

[Silentcook]

I have the same feeling about USM. I loved writing it and I'm glad I did, but argh, my kingdom for a redo.

So uh. Redo it?

I'm completely against the concept of "unpublishing" - one of those strange words made to fit those strange situations that seem to be born from the Web and the digital age - but even so, I would not dream of denying myself the process of editing and refinement.

I do however agree (Are we actually agreeing, though?) that a public forum might not be the best environment for doing that. Too loud and overbearing a peanut gallery, ready to pick at what you did before and complain after comparing to what you did after.

...Which is why I advocate early planning, as opposed to making things up on the go.

[/ramble]

[Helbereth]

...Which is why I advocate early planning, as opposed to making things up on the go.

[/ramble]

If it makes you feel any better, I've got pages and pages of back-story, outline, character bios, and even some cultural research hiding behind the scenes.

Not all of us are writing blindly.

[Catgirl Kleptocracy]

I second the caution against "unpublishing". The Washington Post article Silentcook posted was an interesting read, and a lot of that applies here, as well. The case involved in that article can be distinguished from posts here, as that article detailed a real life event that had actual ramifications, but, other than for record keeping and integrity, as shown in the article, there's some real value to keeping what you've posted up. I've said it elsewhere before, but it takes balls to post up a story for the internet to see. You're anonymous beyond your pseudonym, but you're still attached to that name. Comments are still uplifting, and the criticism still hurts. You may look back on previous writing and know you could do better now, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't be proud of what you put up then. Learning to write is a process, and it takes a lot of time. Be proud of what you write. It's also good to keep stories up so you can look back on them and see what you did in the past. Run through your old stories and look to see what you would have done differently. And you know the kicker? Write down what you would have changed now, then set the story aside for a while and write some more. Then do it again. Your list a year from now will have things it doesn't now. Some might even say, "Actually, that bit wasn't as bad as I thought it was--it can stay." Take pride in what you write, no matter how bad you think it is a month from now.

That said, I also second what Silentcook said about simply posting stuff up because it was written. Yeah, it takes balls to post something up, and you should be proud of it, but you're still putting something out for public view. When you put something up for public view, it's free game on what feedback you get. You might get some legitimately helpful comments. Since this is a fanfiction forum, unfortunately that's probably the least of what you'll get. Most of what you'll get are very general, "Great story! They're so cute together!", every once in a while some asshole ranting that the story sucks, but without saying why, or--most commonly--you'll simply get a view count with nothing said at all. Make sure that every time you hit the post button, you've gone through your pre-post checklist: Edited for spelling/grammar/sentence structure; triple checked characterization; triple checked story consistency (both with canon, where applicable, and more importantly, within your own story); checked to make sure you yourself are legit happy with it.

I do disagree with Silentcook on the issue of pre-planning. At least to a point. Pre-planning will definitely help some writers. Some can't write without it. But many others do just fine flying by the seat of their pants. The key is keeping consistency within the story, and I think post-editing helps more here than pre-planning. That goes back to posting something up just because it's written. You need to be brutal with your post-writing-edits. As a benchmark--and this is going to vary from writer to writer--on average I cut 30+% of what I've written from a chapter before it's actually posted by word count. If you're in doubt, cut it out.

As applied to this story, the main problem as I've seen it, and as others have commented, is characterization. One big thing I've seen said is that it's turned more into an action story than one about the Hisao as we know him. That's not necessarily a bad thing in itself. I'd argue that you really could keep all of the action and still have a workable story. The issue isn't what the characters are reacting to, it's how they are reacting internally to it. This is where those post edits come in. Before you put up a chapter, make sure that Hisao is Hisao. Want Hisao in a gunfight? You can make it work, but you need to focus a little less on how many bullets fly between the two and a little more on how Hisao would reasonably react to it. After you finish writing, go back and read over the chapter a few times, then find all of the places where Hisao is acting like Hisao. See why it's working. Then find all of the places where it's questionable, and take out the doubt.

To be clear, it's entirely possible--if that's what you want to write--to have a workable action focused story starring Hisao. You have a few hurdles due to the nature of fanfiction and KS in its original form, but they can be jumped. People often read fanfiction to hear more stories about characters they already know and love. A lot of the time, the actual content of the story is secondary in their minds. That means you have to be on your game when it comes to keeping characters in character, or at least reasonably show how and why they've changed. You lose your characters, you lose your audience. KS by its nature was also a very character driven game. It's ALL about the characters. If you want an action oriented story, you have to realize you're taking the jump from one focus to another. To do that, you can downplay the amount of focus the story places on character development, but since the original story was so focused on characterization, you can't completely abandon that. Rule of thumb: Good characters can carry a bad story, but a good story can't carry bad characters. You don't necessarily need to focus more on the characters than you do on the action, but you can't lose the characters in it.

In a sort of related note, I'm also agreeing with whoever it was that said internet forums are not the best place for writing advice. That's not saying don't do it. That's not saying you can't learn from forums or internet feedback. That's saying you need to be very careful. The thing about open forums like this is that anybody can provide feedback. All of it IS valuable, even if it's something as simple as the "Great story! They're so cute together!" bit from before. It doesn't have any content, but it still makes you feel damn good. You still need to be careful because, as I said, anybody can post, and a lot of the time people aren't always reading for story telling quality but to get a quick hit of street-grade kawaii or character remembrance. If you really want to better your writing, you need to be able to determine what comments have value and which ones you can disregard. Wild Catch-22 appears!: To do that, a lot of the time you need to be a better writer. So what do you do? Try things out. There's no harm in mixing things up now and then. These last few chapters haven't been working for you? You see that, and you already know what to do--try something new. Fall back on what you already know works, then kick that up a level. The one thing that these forums are good for beyond any reasonable doubt is experimentation. There is NO harm whatsoever in mixing things up here. You're not trying to get published. You're not writing for personal recognition. You're just telling a story, and if something doesn't work, there's no real detriment to you. Pull out that mixing pot. Get ballsy. It's all on you, but Goddammit, you're going to do it, because that's what badass fanfiction writers do. Kenji would be proud of what you've written so far. Make the motherfucker beam.

[Hoitash]

Wow, that was amazing. Thank you personally, and on behalf of the forum for posting that, because it was great advice!

Get ballsy. It's all on you, but Goddammit, you're going to do it, because that's what badass fanfiction writers do. Kenji would be proud of what you've written so far. Make the motherfucker beam.

/salute. I'm on it, brah! Into the breach I go, with a chainsword in one hand, and my desktop in another! Huzzah!

Seriosuly, thanks

[Hoitash]

Get to dah choppa!

Previous Chapter

Part Five: Escape


By the time I had my Colt out the security fire team had caught on and had gone for their assembled weapons as well; apparently they were a paranoid bunch. Each one had a pistol of some kind or another concealed under their suit jackets. The two with sabers drew them as they also pulled out black pistols with their free hands, while the fourth had a large axe in one hand instead of a sword. Illuminati supporters outsourced to anyone, it seemed. I ducked into my side hall and they took positions in their respective hallway as well, and we started exchanging bullets. In my defense, they shot at me first. I was busy checking my heart for a somewhat steady beat while getting a flashbang ready.

“Guys, hurry up; I’m taking fire and am in an easily surroundable position!” I quickly snapped through my headset.

“I’m on my way,” Mrs. Donovan responded.

“No, help Kenji,” I said. I may have been nearly surrounded, but at least I could see what I was shooting at.

“Hisao, relax,” Claudia said, “no one else is coming for you yet… oh crap.”

“What?” I asked as I tossed the grenade.

“They found me. They’re trying to counter my jamming and lock me out of their network. Sorry guys, I gotta focus here for a sec.”

Claudia muted her end of the line with a click as my grenade went off. I peered into the hall from my corner -I was on the right side of the main hall- and fired three shots at two doubled-over figures, downing one and winging the other in the leg. The other two started shooting at me as I ducked back in, and one managed to graze my left arm’s jacket sleeve. They weren’t coming closer yet, so that gave me time to come up with a plan. Unfortunately, their wasn’t a lot I could do except go further down the side hall, which wasn’t a bad idea, except if more security showed up I needed to be able to see them from where I was; using a cross-hall as a defensive point had its flaws. So when the shooting died down I blind fired two shots down the hall. I heard a grunt, so hopefully I did some damage.

“Nakai, how is our escape route?” Mrs. Donovan asked.

“Somewhat open, except for the whole getting surrounded problem.”

“We’re on our way, man,” Kenji said, “we have bug-out fast or we’ll be pinned down.”

“Are you sure you got all the leaders?” I asked.

I heard a gunshot through the earpiece, “we’re sure,” Mrs. Donovan quipped.

Great, I needed another reason to see a mob affiliated therapist. As if the nightmares of Akio and Satomi getting gunned down by men in gray suits weren’t bad enough. Fortunately anyone who knew who Kenji and I were and was involved with the Societies was either on our side or dead, but I still wondered sometimes how Kenji managed to keep his sanity, before remembering he had lost it long ago. He never seemed to miss it or need it much, anyway.

I didn’t have a response for Mrs. Donovan, so I focused back on the gunfight, firing the last two shots in my clip down the hall. That time I managed to hit one in the head. Too bad it cost me another flurry of incoming gunfire, as his partner was still standing. He also managed to hit me in my left arm, but it was fortunately just a mild graze below the elbow. I paused to reload as I heard footsteps approaching behind me; I was being flanked by more guards. I wheeled around in time to see three security men in gray suits aim their pistols at me. I emptied my clip at them and dropped to the ground. The shots they squeezed off before I downed them mostly went high, but my right shoulder took a deep graze. I heard more footsteps behind me and quickly reloaded.

“Okay I’m back,” Claudia said, “good news bad news time. Good news is I’m back, bad news is Hisao, you are completely surrounded.”

I sighed, “I was afraid of that. Where are Kenji and Mrs. Donovan?”

“A level down and a few dozen meters towards the bow; they had to go around a mass of Illuminati security. They’re breaking out the heavy stuff for you guys, so watch for assault rifles and shotguns aimed your way.”

I groaned before responding, “so more like good news, bad news, and worse news.”

“Touché,” I could tell Claudia was grimacing even through the translator.

I crawled around and fired two shots down the hall as two men on each corner of a side hall ahead started aiming at me with shotguns. They fired slugs at me that managed to miss, but I felt one hit the floor near my left foot. I fired two shots to my right and hit someone somewhere as I started crawling backwards. I also heard footsteps to my left; yeah, I was surrounded, all right.

“Guys, please hurry,” I pleaded.

“They’re almost there,” Claudia said. I probably imagined the soothing tone to her translator’s monotony, but I was willing to go along with the delusion.

“We could go faster,” Mrs. Donovan said, “but we would like to get there without getting shot.”

“Occupational hazard; just get here before they get me,” I retorted as I shot twice to my left.

I rolled onto my side as more slugs slammed into the floor where I had been a moment before. The security behind me was getting closer, but I managed to crawl backwards far enough to see one of them and shoot at him. A lucky shot hit him in the leg and he fell over. At least one other was getting closer, and I still had the shotgunners to contend with. I muttered some uncomplimentary things regarding the Illuminati’s mothers as I reached for a straight razor I had packed and stuck in the sock of my left shoe. It had been a gift from a grateful client, and I had never used it –I preferred an electric shaver- but I figured it might come in handy.

I opened it up and fired a shot down the hall that somehow managed to hit someone in the head. I needed to save my last shot for the main hall, but as I scrunched closer to the wall to get a better line of sight I heard more footsteps to my right.

“Claudia…”

“Sorry, you got three more comin’ in.”

So at least half a dozen people were about to surround me and rudely attempt to perforate my person. I had one bullet. Maybe if I asked politely, they’d all stand in a line for me. Someone to my left was crawling at me so I shot him and tried to reload, though I had to roll to avoid another barrage of slugs, one of which glanced off my armor. I finished reloading and fired two shots down the hall and another to my right to keep them back. Someone jumped into the hall with a machine gun, but before I could shoot him or him me, a hail of bullets cracked through that hall and downed him, and hopefully the others in that hall as well. I heard more shots behind me and the remaining security went down with a dull thud.

Mrs. Donovan appeared in front of me, her pistol drawn and level. Behind me Kenji popped out, looking around for a bit while I heaved myself up and checked my heart. He looked uncertain for a second, but smiled when he recognized me. Both of them had a few grazes on their arms, but nothing serious yet.

I sighed and smiled in relief, “thanks, you two.”

Kenji returned the smile and waved a hand airily, “no problem, man.”

“Here,” Mrs. Donovan said as she handed me a shotgun and a handful of shells.

I stuffed the shells into my pocket and examined the shotgun quickly. It had four twelve gauge shells left in it, a single barrel, and was pump action. It looked like a Remington, but might‘ve been a British or Canadian model. I counted the shells in my pocket -nine- and fully loaded the gun with four more shots.

“Okay, what’s the fastest way out of here?” I asked Claudia, after holstering my pistol and pocketing my straight razor.

Claudia gave a brief overview of our route and I looked to Mrs. Donovan and Kenji.

“Everyone ready?” I asked.

Kenji nodded, “let’s go, man. You and Mrs. Donovan take the front, I’ll cover the rear.”

“I’ll cover the rear,” Mrs. Donovan said, leering at Kenji’s thick glasses.

Kenji grunted but assented- he was always sensitive about his poor eyesight. We checked the halls around us quickly and started our way up to the deck.

“What’s going on in the ship?” I asked as we slowly made our way, checking corners and down halls.

“Chaos,” Claudia said, “half the ship is heading for the deck trying to abandon ship like rats, and the other half is heading for you three. When you get to the deck try and act casual.”

I rolled my eyes, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I grabbed a frag grenade, if that helps,” Kenji said.

“It might,” Mrs. Donovan quipped.

“Crap guys, you got seven coming from the south and east halls.”

“Drop a smoke grenade and keep moving,” Mrs. Donovan said, “only engage if they’re in front of us.”

Kenji pulled out a smoke grenade, readied and dropped it behind him as we picked up our pace. We made pretty good time until we got to the room that led to the stairway.

“Heads up, there’s five in the stairway,” Claudia said.

The metal stairs went up from a large nook that fed directly into the main hall. We carefully eased up against the wall that led into the nook, which was to our right.

“Oh, crapolla. Guys, you got two dozen behind you, fanning out to surround you.”

“What took them so long?” I asked.

“They’re trying to do a sweep of the ship,” Mrs. Donovan said, “they’re checking for more bombs and other hostiles.”

“How long before we’re surrounded?” Kenji asked.

“One minute, maybe.”

“We’ll do this the quick way, then,” I said.

I readied and tossed my last flashbang into the stairs and waited. After it went off with a, well, a flash and a bang, I stepped into the nook’s doorway and fired two shots with the shotgun before ducking out. A couple bursts of automatic fire rang past. When they stopped, Mrs. Donovan edged in and fired a couple shots with her pistol. The two of us exchanged fire with the stairs for a few seconds when Kenji started firing down the hall.

“Two left in the stairs, but more are coming,” Claudia provided.

“Screw it,” Mrs. Donovan said. She stepped into the threshold of the nook and fired several shots, “stairs are clear, now move it!”

“Watch when you get on the deck,” Claudia advised, “security has organized and they’re keeping people from jumpin’ ship now that they have a handle on things.”

More good news, “so we’re gonna have to shoot our way past some guards to grab a boat?”

“Basically.”

Yep, the good news kept coming. The stairs twisted and turned their way up towards the deck, but we didn’t get that far. The top of the stairs also led to the inside of the bridge, which was currently heavily fortified with Illuminati security, according to Claudia. Security that seemed to be trigger happy at the moment. Two of them were guarding the door that led to the bridge, and two more were opposite them keeping very careful track of who went out onto the deck or into the stairs. Since they had no doubt heard the gunfire, they also had their rifles out and aimed down the stairway.

“So how do we do this?” I asked Mrs. Donovan in a whisper; voices carry in metal structures, and the stairway was one of the few areas that hadn’t been plastered and boarded over to make new rooms.

“Quickly,” Kenji remarked as he fired three shots down the hall, “because we’re still being followed.”

“Toss a flashbang when we get close, and toss that frag down the hall now,” Mrs. Donovan said.

Kenji nodded as he fired two more shots before readying and tossing the frag. We managed to get closer to the top of the stairs, and when we were as close as we could get without getting shot at -about halfway up the last two flights- Mrs. Donovan tossed a flashbang up the stairs. When it went off we moved forward firing at the cringing security, downing them as we finally ascended the stairs.

I checked my heart and looked to Kenji, who was firing down the stairway as he made sure the door to the bridge was locked.

“How many are following us?” I asked Claudia.

“At least twelve, but you got another dozen on the deck guarding the boats, so be careful. You got six more in the bridge, but they’re busy at the moment. You also got six more heading for the stairway from the deck.”

As if to underscore her final statement, a couple flashbangs rolled into the stairway. Mrs. Donovan groaned and kicked them back, slamming the door shut as she did so. She pulled away to the right of the door at the same time several bursts of fire dinged into it. Thank God for bullet proof doors.

I eased up to the left of the door while Kenji reloaded.

“We need a new plan,” I stated, as if it weren’t blatantly obvious.

Kenji grinned and looked me in the left ear, “what did we do the last time we were heavily outnumbered?”

I raised an eyebrow, my mind quickly reviewing our foray into Russia, “we hid under power armor, fought second string rent-a-cops, and got extremely lucky.”

Kenji sighed, “what about the time before that?”

I scratched my chin in thought, thinking of our Metal Gear Solid assault into Thailand, “we were less insanely outnumbered, had the element of surprise, and got extremely lucky.”

Kenji groaned, “the time before that!”

I briefly thought that over while several rounds of automatic fire pinged into the door and from down the stairs. The last job that had involved the Societies and actual detective work, in hindsight, it hadn’t been that bad. We had even been hired by a major industrial forerunner, though things had hit the fan fast when the Illuminati showed up and started shooting everyone.

Which gave me an answer to Kenji’s question, “we ran like hell?”

“Exactly!” Kenji explained, patting me lightly on my left shoulder as he fired blindly –sorry, legally blindly- down the stairs.

“That’s your plan!?” Mrs. Donovan and Claudia groaned at the same time.

“Do you have a better one?” we both retorted.

Mrs. Donovan rolled her eyes and groaned, “fine, but we’re doing it the smart way. How many flashbangs and smokers do we have?”

It turned out we had two of each left, so Mrs. Donovan quickly formulated a plan: toss a flashbang down the stairs, and toss the rest of the grenades outside. When they went off we run for the nearest speedboat, which according to Claudia was about four meters to our right and ready to be lowered into the water. All we had to do was drop it, run down the stairs, start up the boat, and zoom away into the metaphorical sunset.

“And don’t get shot,” Claudia added.

“Right,” Mrs. Donovan said as the gunfire from the stairs below picked up, someone started banging on the door to the bridge, and the fire against the other door grew in intensity, “on three, one, two-”

“Hang on,” I said, “I got an idea,” I switched on my security earpiece. The constant chatter nearly deafened me for a moment, but I managed to hit the all security frequency.

“Don’t let those traitors escape,” I shouted, “they’re definitely in the Russian’s pockets!”

I switched off the earpiece again and looked at Mrs. Donovan, who looked confused and a little annoyed.

“The Illuminati have always been held together by their leaders,” I said, “with them dead, they’re ripe for some confusion.”

“So why not create the confusion ourselves,” Mrs. Donovan smiled and nodded, “good idea.”

“Good, that was fuckin’ brilliant, man!” Kenji added.

“Alright, round two,” Mrs. Donovan said, “on three, one, two, three!”

We all tossed the grenades and waited a few seconds. Mrs. Donovan was grazed by a few bullets when she cracked the door open to toss the grenades, but she said it wasn’t serious. A few seconds later, she flung the door open and charged out, pistol blazing. I followed, and Kenji took up the rear, firing rapidly behind him.

The deck was in chaos. Everyone was more or less either shooting each other or trying to get to a boat, or getting shot at while trying to get to a boat. Life rafts and boats were lined up along racks on the edge of the deck, several of which were damaged and useless. The one closest to us looked good, and as we rushed towards it I fired a couple of quick shots at the nearest group of hostiles. By the time the assembled groups had noticed us, we were already at the boat.

“The mech’s broken,” Mrs. Donovan grunted.

I took a second to examine the rope and pulley system that lowered the white speedboat with red stripes from the two metal racks that were bolted to the deck. The reason it was stuck was obvious- the crank was missing and shrapnel had clogged the pulley system. Of course the cables were steel, so cutting them wasn’t an option.

“Crap,” I said, firing at two security who had started leapfrogging toward us.

“Head on down the stairs,” Mrs. Donovan said, “I can get this.”

“Leave you in the middle of this mess?” I asked, dumbfounded, “are you nuts?”

Mrs. Donovan gritted her teeth and glared at me, “go or I’ll shoot you in the ass when we get outta here!”

I rolled my eyes and complied, dragging a reluctant Kenji with me. The stairs were down the deck another dozen meters, so we started moving and firing as fast as we could. My heart was hammering, but not seriously, and no one seemed to be throwing grenades at us. I felt bullets zing past us and graze our limbs and body armor, but again we were lucky that nothing major hit us. The stairs were guarded by four Illuminati that I managed to take out with my last shotgun blasts, because they were busy shooting at three security personnel taking cover behind a tattered life raft. As we started running down the stairs I noticed Mrs. Donovan following. She was limping slightly, so she must’ve fixed the crank the hard way: with her foot.

“Mrs. Donovan’s coming but she’s limping,” I told Kenji.

Kenji looked down at me from the steps above and grunted, “you get down there, I’ll cover her.”

“You two won’t make it,” I advised, “and you’ve already been shot twice!”

A bullet had severely grazed his left arm and a couple of bits of buckshot had seared his right leg. He shrugged and reloaded his pistol, “go man, I made a promise, and I intend to keep it!”

I swore loudly but made my way down the long metal stairs. The stairs weren’t anywhere near the boat, so I again swore and started swimming towards it, jumping into the ocean water as the firefight raged on above me. The water was relatively warm and steady, but swimming in a suit is hard work. The speed boat was being slapped against the enormous hull of the ship lightly, so at least it wasn’t out of reach. Mrs. Donovan must’ve released all the cables, because they weren’t trailing up back to the ship. Instead they snaked around the boat in the water, and I ended up grabbing one and using it to heave myself to the side of the boat. The cables were still attached to the sides of the boat, so I used them to pull myself in.

I couldn’t afford to, but I had to stop and rest my heart for a second. It murmured a little, but fortunately nothing too serious. With my hand on my chest, I felt several small bullets imbedded in the lower torso of my armor, which felt pretty cracked and useless.

“Claudia, can you hear me?” I asked between gasps of air.

“Yeah, but hurry up!” she barked back.

“I don’t know how to work this thing!” I retorted.

Claudia groaned, “it’s like a car but faster and with no wheels. The keys should be in the glove compartment.”

I sighed and heaved myself to the small padded driver’s seat. The glove compartment was a small hatch under the dashboard, which opened with a small latch easily. The metal key was on top of a stack of papers, so I grabbed it and shoved it into the ignition. It turned easily enough, and the twin engines behind me roared to life before settling for a low rumble. I spent a few seconds examining the dashboard and the controls before easing the craft towards the stairs. It wasn’t too hard, but I almost hit the side of the ship twice. When I got to the stairs I stopped the boat and looked up.

Kenji and Mrs. Donovan were halfway down the stairs. Kenji was supporting her as they shuffled down the metal stairway, several men trying to shoot them from the deck. More ran up to the side of the ship to shoot at me. My shotgun was abandoned at the base of the stairs and out of reach. I pulled out my Colt and fired up. The pistol still worked, and I emptied the rest of the clip at the top of the stairs, hitting two of them. Kenji shoved Mrs. Donovan into the boat and followed. He pulled out his Browning and started firing up as they both shouted at me to go. I punched it and we zoomed off back to Japan.

On the way out I felt a bullet hit the edge of my body armor on my left shoulder. I grunted at that and looked behind me. Mrs. Donovan had a bad graze on her right shoulder, and judging by the large red stain on her lower left leg, someone had shot her leg as well. Kenji had a bad graze on his left leg, and his suit was filled with buckshot holes. The left motor had a bad ding in it from a rifle shot, but it was still working for now. Somehow, the three of us were alive. My heart was calm again as the water’s stillness and soft breeze eased away the stress of our latest adventure.

“Congratulations,” Mrs. Donovan said between gasps of air, “you two made me miss working for the Department of Defense.”

“Are you all okay?” Claudia asked, her concern breaking through the translator’s monotone.

“Nothing permanent,” Kenji said, grinning maniacally, “thanks a ton for your help, Claudia.”

“You, too, Mrs. Donovan,” I added, also grinning, though I suspected more from survival then victory.

“No problem,” they replied.

Mrs. Donovan smirked and added, “just don’t ask for my help ever again.”

As we zoomed our way back to Japan, I couldn’t help smiling at what we had just done. The leaders of the largest and oldest Secret Society were dead. The factions that made it up were shooting each other, and soon, hopefully, the Society itself would crumble. With luck, it would take the remains of the other Societies with it. It had been a huge risk, but somehow, we had done it. I felt a twinge in my shoulder and grimaced.

“How the hell am I gonna explain this damage to my wife?” I asked.

“Occupational hazard,” Mrs. Donovan quipped, “and don’t worry about the wounds, we have a doctor ready for that.”

Good, one less problem to worry about. Hopefully, a lot more problems would go away soon, too.

“Listen, man,” Kenji said, patting my shoulder lightly as he took the passenger seat next to me, “thanks for helping me through all this. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I was glad to help,” I said, turning away from the water to look him in the eye, “it may have nearly killed me on several occasions, but in the end, I think it was worth it. If for no other reason, then so we could get back to nice, normal cases where we only get shot at if we seriously fuck up.”

Kenji chuckled, “c’mon, man, getting shot at and stabbed is half the fun!”

I heard Mrs. Donovan snort behind me, “you’re both fuckin’ nuts.”

END OF THE “SECRET SOCIETY” ARC

+++

Celebratory music: FF With Lyrics

I had fun. That was fun for me. As long as you had fun, too, I did good. Unfortunately, the Detective Duo have made quite the mess now. And with any mess, you have the second half of this adventure: The Aftermath.

Next time on Hisao and Kenji- Master Detectives!

During a Japanese heat wave, former members of the Yakuza are found brutally murdered, their heads and spines missing, their entourage blasted and sliced to cat meat around them. When a former client’s father is considered the next target, the Detective Duo faces their greatest challenge ever, one that might indeed be their last.

Tune in next time for Mystery Seven: Hisao and Kenji VS. The Predator!

Same thread, same forum!

(Calm down, folks. Please put away the torches and pitchforks, and have faith in my mad skillz. Or just my mad madness; either works.)

Pardon? Oh, Akira has something she’d like to say, but it can wait until Tuesday.