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My power supply died on me last night; fortunately a Boy Scout is always prepared!

Oh, OHL, your wish is my command. I think.

Previous Chapter

Part Five: Retrieval

Fortunately for us, the two guards couldn’t see me through the bathroom door, since Shizune was using it for cover, it stuck out a bit. They were both tall with thin mustaches, light gray suits under their body armor. Purely on survival instinct, my heart hammering in my chest, I yanked out the Colt and emptied all seven rounds at the two guards. One of them took a shot to the head, tumbling back down the stairs below. The other one had dodged to the left, and my poor aim had saved him.

I’d mull over the moral implications of killing someone for the first time later. Right now, I had a job to do- mainly to live. I heaved up the shop owner and threw him at the other guard, adrenaline giving me strength I would normally lack. The guard fired off a few shots before realizing his mistake, and the two ended up tumbling down the stairs after their fellow.

I looked around me; Shizune had her knife drawn, and was behind the door, her face set in a frighteningly wicked grin. Misha was still in a corner crying, while Kenji fired off another shot. Good for Shizune she was deaf- the sound of gunfire was hurting my ears. I kneeled down next to Misha and tilted her head up while my heart calmed down slightly.

“Misha, we need you to focus, okay?” I said, then, remembering a line I had read somewhere, I added, “don’t focus on anything else other then the gun in your hand, and the people in front of you.”

Misha nodded and shakily got up, steadying her pistol in front of her. I went up to Kenji as he swore.

“I’m out, take over,” he said, ducking down to reload. I quickly moved over him and peered outside. The two shop employees were behind the end of the front counter and inside the clothing conveyer belt, respectively. The guy in the belt was pretty easy to down- of course I could actually see the guy. The one behind the counter stopped shooting to make a break for it, crawling and then running outside. That’s when I noticed the large tinted windows, which explained why no one outside had noticed the fire fight. The building must’ve absorbed sound well, too, or someone would’ve heard us.

“Damn it, one of them ran for it,” I said.

“Shit,” Kenji said as he finished reloading, “no help for it, they called for reinforcements by now anyway, I’m sure. We need to hurry downstairs,” he said to everyone. After Misha translated for Shizune, somewhat awkwardly because of the weapons, we followed Kenji down the stairs. The door at the bottom was white and heavy looking. The two dead guards and store owner were at the bottom. Seeing the katanas, Shizune quickly sheathed her knife and grabbed one, holding it like she’d been doing so for years. Kenji checked the door lever; it was unlocked.

“They left the door open for us,” Kenji said, “how polite.”

“They’ll be ready for us,” I said.

Kenji nodded, “I have an idea. Jigoro is probably being held in the broom closet. I’ll hold the guards off here while you and Shizune go get him. Misha?” Kenji turned to face her; she looked pale and scared. I’m sure I did, too. It disturbed me how calm Shizune and Kenji were.

“Yes?” Misha asked.

“I need you to wait upstairs. We have no idea how long before reinforcements show up, so when you see them coming- anyone coming- let us know. We need an escape route open, so when you see them, if they have a weapon out, shoot, okay?”

Misha nodded slowly, signed something to Shizune, and walked back up the stairs. Kenji turned to face me and pulled out his grenade, “here, we don’t have time to grab any data, just blow the servers to hell. The broom closet is the third door on the left. I’m going to toss a flashbang, when it goes off, you two head for the closet, grab Jigoro, and clear the way for me to get to the security room. Don’t blow the servers until I’m done there.”

“What if he’s not there?” I asked, while Shizune looked irked that she had lost her translator.

Kenji smiled, “don’t worry, my spleen says he’s there,” Kenji pulled out his flashbang while I pocketed his grenade, “on three. One, two, three.”

Kenji armed and readied the grenade and quickly opened the door a crack to toss it. As he slammed the door shut I heard several rounds ping onto the door, which was thankfully bullet proof. I heard a muffled shot of “grenade!” and the slamming of two doors. I heard the grenade go off and Kenji heaved the door open, all three of us as behind it as we could be.

Peering over the door, I saw two guards on the ground in pain behind two open doors. Two more open doors were at the end of the hall. The two nearest doors on the left and right were closed. The entire area was painted white, the Illuminati symbol in green at the end of the hall. Grabbing Shizune by the hand I darted forward, only then realizing the two back doors had someone behind them. I fired a few shots to keep them down, that and our speed saved us. They were wearing suits and armor, but I don’t think they were guards- they must’ve been the guys who watched the security cameras. We darted past the first set of open doors and Shizune lunged at the man on our left while I pinned him with suppressive fire. The one on the right closed his door while someone behind started shooting at Kenji. By the time I caught up to her the camera guy was crouched on the floor clutching his bleeding arm and legs. Shizune’s new katana had blood on it as she shoved him back so I could slam the left door shut before the other guy could shoot us as he swung his door back open. Shizune didn’t wait for me as she stabbed him in his left hip while I fired at the wall to keep him distracted. Together we shoved him out into the hall and slammed the door behind us.

Looking around, we saw two shelves stocked with cleaning equipment and weapons. The concrete floor oozed coldness below us as a solitary light gleamed above us. At the end of the large closet, Jigoro Hakamichi was chained to a metal chair bolted to the floor.

He was a tall man, with long black hair flying around his slumped form and a thick beard that somehow managed to be trimmed and shaggy at the same time. The dark metal chains were wrapped all around him, and there was a lot of them. I gestured for Shizune to look after him, but she was already running for him. I glanced around and saw his sword on one of the shelves, remembering the sheath from Lilly’s wedding. I grabbed it and handed it to Shizune, who immediately tossed the guard’s katana to cradle her family weapon as she shook her father. Looked like he had been sedated, but other then that he looked fine, though his blue Hawaiian shirt and pants were pretty ruffled.

The door in front of us cracked open and I saw the flashbang roll in as the door closed. I covered Shizune’s eyes- somewhat awkwardly because of her glasses- and closed my own as the noise and light temporarily stunned me. I couldn’t speak to her, so I shoved Shizune at the door as it swung open again with what remained of my senses. The security guard’s shock at seeing someone up cost him as Shizune darted at him to slice at his arms, hands, and right leg in a smooth, quick motion- she must’ve taken the hint and unsheathed her sword when I tossed her.
I had to question that later, at the moment I was trying to wake Mr. Hakamichi. After a few hard nudges he finally snapped awake.

“Get back you cowards!” he barked. He looked blearily around, “Shizune, what are you doing here?”

I forgot what an ass he could be. Since Shizune was busy using the guard’s Uzi to take potshots out the door, I decided to answer him- not that she could, anyway, “she insisted she come with us to find you, sir.”

Mr. Hakamichi looked me up and down and made a disgusted noise, “that’s a cheap suit, and your hair is a mess. How embarrassing to be rescued by the likes of you. And what about the warning I left with that weasel, didn’t you get it?”

“Yeah I got it, but we decided to ignore it.”

Another disgusted grunt, “in my day we listened to our elders. Of course in my day-”

“Up hill both ways in fifteen feet of snow, I heard it before, sir.”

Mr. Hakamichi’s eyes narrowed, “have we met?”

I nodded and bowed a little, “Hisao Nakai, your niece’s maid of honor’s husband,” that was an odd sentence. There had been two maid of honors actually- Lilly’s sister Akira stood with her. Mr. Hakamichi snorted.

“I remember you, and your ridiculous sweater-vest during rehearsal. Do you realize the danger you’ve put my family in?”

“Don’t worry, Shizune gave us the old records from when you left the Yakuza.”

Mr. Hakamichi looked like was going to have a stroke, but he ended up barking out a laugh, “ha! Those bastards are in for it, if someone as crazy as you has them. Fine, if you insist on rescuing me, get me out of these pathetic chains.”

That proved more difficult then I expected. I had no idea how to pick the locks, no idea where the key was, and Shizune was busy holding off the guards. Eventually she either took them down or they were distracted by Kenji, because after a while Shizune came over to examine the chains. She frowned and pulled a hairpin from her hair. Breaking it in half, she started working at the locks. Taking a cue from her glare at me, I took over watching the door, just in time for Kenji to burst in.

“Welcome to the party,” I said.

“Did you find him?” Kenji asked, unable to see him behind me.

I rolled my eyes and nodded, “yeah, he’s here. Can you help pick the locks to his chains?”

Kenji nodded and kneeled on the opposite side of him, across from Shizune.

“Who’s this?” Mr. Hakamichi asked.

“Kenji Setou, Private Investigator and the worst enemy to secret society’s since the CIA,” Kenji said as he picked the locks on his side.

Mr. Hakamichi barked a laugh, “you and sweater-vest are crazy. I’ve seen your writing, and while you’re definitely insane, you may be the best bet for stopping these cowards.”

Finally the chains loosened around him. With a grunt and a muted roar, Mr. Hakamichi burst up and out of his chains as they clattered around him. Shizune offered him his sword, but he was too busy falling over to accept it.

“You must still be a bit woozy from the sedatives,” I said as I watched the doorway.

“Disgraceful,” Mr. Hakamichi said, “but accurate.”

“Kenji, get to the security room and wipe what you can, we’ll get Mr. Hakamichi to Misha before we blow the servers,” I said.

Kenji nodded while I tried and gestured to Shizune. She nodded to show she understood, and with her on his right and me on his left, we managed to heft him up.

“Sweater-vest,” Mr. Hakamichi said, “if my daughter doesn’t get out of this alive, I’m going to kill you.”

“That’s fine, sir,” I said, “because even if I do get out of this, I think my wife might just kill me.”

She’d definitely have some harsh words for Kenji, at least. Hefting him out the door was a pain since we had to go out sideways, fortunately that gave me a chance to check the hallway. Two security guards lay crumpled in the hall, with the fifth in front of me piled on top of one of the camera guys. All the doors were open, but I had no idea where the other camera guy or the last security guard were. As the three of us trundled forward, Mr. Hakamichi made the occasional grunt.

“Sloppy,” he said as we passed the bodies and servers, their matte black towers looming in two rows of three within their cold, dark homes. Getting up the stairs proved a serious effort, and when we dropped off Shizune’s father next to a frightened Misha I had to pause to calm my heart. That took a few minutes.

“Shizune,” Mr. Hakamichi grunted, “go help sweater-vest to finish the job- I doubt he could finish it himself.”

“I have a partner,” I said while Misha, on autopilot, translated for Shizune. Shizune yanked the sheathed sword she had tied around her skirt and unsheathed it. It didn’t look too bloody, but the lines and glints of red were a stark contrast to the gleaming metal.

“Setou, I know. My secretary showed me his writing once. Pathetic, but his goals are… admirable,” Mr. Hakamichi barked a laugh again, “if you two know the shitstorm you’ve invoked by rescuing me, maybe you’re not as pathetic and weak as I first thought. Maybe.”

Shizune’s father seemed torn between a desire to insult me and Kenji, and a begrudging respect for our massive balls in trying to rescue him. Or he was loopy from the sedatives.

“Why did they capture you anyway?” I asked.

Mr. Hakamichi shook his head, “that can wait. Go finish the job before the real soldiers show up- the only reason you’ve lasted this long is these cowards weren’t suspecting a fight, and their mostly new recruits.”

Lucky us. I glanced at Shizune, who nodded, and we headed down the stairs again, my Colt in hand. As we once again reached the basement the last security guard came out of the break room. His left hand had a bullet wound, and rather than a gun, he was holding a katana tightly, his smooth shaven face grimacing in pain.

“You’re mine, bitch,” he said, glaring at Shizune.

“She’s deaf,” I said, for some reason. I looked at Shizune as she glared back at the man, and slowly, she moved closer, her family sword held tightly in her hands. The two couldn’t dance in the narrow hallway- so narrow I just noticed the doors on each side almost blocked it off entirely. Instead they merely looked at each other, shifting slightly from one side to the other. Because of his wounded hand he was favoring his left side, and when he flinched slightly from shifting, Shizune grinned and dove at him.

He parried her thrust and forced the sword up so he could swing at her torso, but she ducked to the side and he got her suit instead. I held my gun out but didn’t fire; besides not having a clear shot, this looked like a family score. Shizune stabbed at his back but he spun on his heel to force the sword down and tried to slide his katana up to her hands. Seeing a chance I fired a quick shot at his feet, hitting his left foot at the ankle. He screamed in pain and that gave Shizune a chance to bat away his weapon and shove the sword into his lower jaw and up through his skull. The glare she gave the man as he died screamed what her voice could not.

“That was for my father, you bastards.”

While I checked my heart and Shizune worked to steady her breathing, the only closed door, the camera room door, burst open and the last camera guy flew out and crashed into the broom closet. Kenji walked out and fired three shots with his pistol into the closet before turning to us.

“Who’s there?” he asked.

“Me and Shizune,” I said, “everyone not on our side is dead, and her father’s with Misha.”

“Good,” Kenji gave a triumphant smile, “I’ve fried this footage and the records in here to hell, now it’s your turn to blast these servers after ‘em.”

“With pleasure,” this action hero stuff was oddly cathartic. I reached into my suit and pulled out two grenades. I held one out for Shizune and pointed to the server room on her side- he was her father, after all. She gave a Cheshire cat grin and took the grenade. We stepped over to the doors while Kenji ran up the stairs. I held up my hand with five fingers out, pointed to my door, and lowered my thumb. Shizune nodded to show she understood. On five I armed and readied the grenade and tossed it into the server room, slamming it shut afterward. Shizune did the same.
A few seconds later as we darted up the stairs I heard the two muted explosions, and then a bunch of smaller ones. It sounded like sparks were flying, too, as we regrouped around Misha.

“Let’s get the hell outta here,” I said.

Kenji nodded, “out the door and to the left, we’ll make a wide circle back to the car. Me and Misha will carry Mr. Hakamichi, you and Shizune be ready for trouble.”

We were either lucky or fast, because despite our slowed pace we managed to avoid any trouble, and we arrived safely at the office some time later.

+++

Next Chapter

That part ending was pretty meh, sorry about that.

How do you top a Shizune sword fight, though? Oh, and I know their family sword is also a katana; I just called it a sword to avoid confusion.

KS, Mission Impossible, Dragnet, James Bond, The Magnificent Seven, with a little Kill Bill and CSI: Miami tossed in for good measure.

It's like drinking the worlds best cocktail minus the hangover in the morning.

# 2 wrote:KS, Mission Impossible, Dragnet, James Bond, The Magnificent Seven, with a little Kill Bill and CSI: Miami tossed in for good measure.

It's like drinking the worlds best cocktail minus the hangover in the morning.

Thanks, I do what I can

And I love a good cocktail.

Insert ED-E’s victory tune here.

I am a dork. I regret nothing.

Previous Chapter

Part Six: Mission Complete


“This won’t get you in trouble with the Yakuza, will it?” I asked as we headed upstairs through the old wooden door that led to the old wooden stairs up to our office in the old multi-story building, most of it painted a dull brown. The building had a few windows, but it still looked pretty bleak.

“No,” Mr. Hakamichi said, able to walk on his own now, “my captors might be another problem. I can explain when we’re inside.”

Kenji spent some time examining the door to the office, and the office itself, looking closely at everything inside and around until he was satisfied. For the first, but not the last, time, I was appreciative of his paranoia. Kenji and I stood around his desk while the three sat and we started unloading our weapons. I still couldn’t believe we got through all that without a scratch.

“You four were damn lucky,” Mr. Hakamichi said as he twirled his sword like a baton, “those idiots would’ve had you if they were properly prepared for a counter-attack. And, I specifically warned anyone against coming to find me. Still...” his face looked conflicted for a moment, but eventually he sighed and grimaced, “thank you. Both for retrieving me, and for giving my daughter a chance to wet our sword- it hasn’t been used in combat since I left the Yakuza.”

Shizune beamed with pride after Misha had translated all that. When she had finished, her face lit up, “oh, I need to get the other half of your payment- it’s in the car, I’ll be right~ back.”

As she darted off I turned to face Mr. Hakamichi. He was sitting in Kenji’s chair, while the two women had the other chairs, and Kenji stood to Mr. Hakamichi’s right, with me on his left.

“Speaking of which, why would the Illuminati,” it was still weird talking about these groups like they were real, but they were, so I had no choice, “risk violating their code of honor to capture you?”

Mr. Hakamichi grunted, “the Illuminati are the biggest and most powerful of the Secret Societies, but they’re also the most divided and fragmented. The only reason they don’t run the world is because they spend most of their time fighting the other Societies and each other. The group that grabbed me is probably part of a small faction with delusions of grandeur.”

“They’ll come after us, won’t they?” Kenji asked.

Damn, I knew this was a bad idea. This job put me and my family in danger, and Kenji, too. At least he could handle himself.

I was relieved when Mr. Hakamichi shook his head, “you four managed to kick them in the balls pretty good, and when the higher ups find out- especially if the High Elders do- that faction won’t be doing anything for a very long time. Which is fortunate for you in two ways- one because they won’t come after you, and two because I don’t have to kill you for disobeying my message.”

He barked another laugh, but I didn’t doubt him for a moment. Shizune looked upset that she couldn’t understand anything being said, but her father didn’t seem to notice or care. I knew he was a bit of a jackass, but at least his heart was in the right place- even in the face of gruesome torture for the information he had, his main thought was of his family.

Which begged the question, “how did you know they were after you in the first place?”

Mr. Hakamichi grunted again, “I noticed I was being followed a few days ago. Sloppy. I suspected it was the Yakuza keeping tabs on me, but when I checked with some old contacts they said it wasn’t them. That made me suspicious, so I went to the Brass Wok to check with my informant on who might specifically be after me. As it turned out, an upstart faction in the Illuminati. Seems they want to up the pressure on the other Societies, but doing so might reveal them to the outside world, so they’re biding their time. I left a message with the weasel and heard something in the alley- a trap so obvious if I wasn’t thinking about how to disembowel the cowards I certainly would’ve noticed it.”

“So,” Kenji cut in, “if they could get their hands on the information you had- very useful and hard to get information, so hard to get even they didn’t have it, despite it being outdated- they could work more covertly to take out the rival groups, giving them the clout to take over the Illuminati and finally achieve their endgame goal- secret world domination.”

Mr. Hakamichi nodded, looking mildly impressed, “exactly. I had no idea my information was still so important. I expected it to be worthless a few years later, with the honor system keeping me safe more then the info itself. Disappointing.”

At that point Misha came back, holding another brown briefcase, which she plopped onto the desk and opened with two sharp snaps, revealing the rest of our payment.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Kenji said, “you two may have saved the world from the evil forces of the vast and seedy conspiracies that plague it.”

Mr. Hakamichi sighed and turned to me, “it sounds like this insane friend of yours is determined to reveal the truth to the world. I may not care much for you, sweater-vest, but you married a good woman. If you’re going to get involved in this shit, you best be careful, for the sake of your family.”

I nodded, “I will, sir.”

He nodded and bolted up, “good, let’s get out of here.”

Mr. Hakamichi strode out of the room, not waiting for the two women.

“Uh, thanks for agreeing to help us~,” Misha said. Shizune smiled, nodded and mouthed “thank you.”

I smiled back and bowed lightly, “you’re welcome.”

“Yeah,” Kenji added. The two left the office- after Misha grabbed the briefcase holding Mr. Hakamichi’s information, which Kenji must’ve prepared for her while we were talking- and closed the door behind them, which Kenji quickly secured before turning back to me.

“Look, man,” he said, looking at me directly in my left ear, “I don’t blame you if you want to bail out now. I know there’s enough money here that your debt to me is paid. If you want out, I won’t blame you a bit.”

I opened my mouth but he continued, and, sensing a rant, I turned the folding chair around to face him and sit down as he worked himself up. Surprisingly, he took some time to collect himself. Eventually, he cleared his throat and started what was possibly a Diet worthy speech.

“When we first met, I was a mess. I was ranting and raving about feminist conspiracies. When I got older, I realized there were real conspiracies out there. I vowed I would reveal those conspiracies to the world with my work, and force them out into the open so they could be dealt with in a fair fight,” Kenji’s hands clenched into fists as he got really going, “now that I have Mr. Hakamichi’s information, even out of date, saved and stored for my own use, I realize that doing that would be the worse possible thing I could do.”

I hadn’t expected to hear that, “what?” I asked.

Kenji sighed and sat next to me, pivoting slightly in the chair to look at me again, “trying to reveal these Societies will only send them deeper underground, man. If I do that, it will be impossible to stop them,” he smiled maniacally again, making me nervous, “but, with that information, I can work to covertly destroy them without them knowing, like we did today. Like I said, I don’t blame you one bit if you walk away now, but, like I also said, I need someone I trust to watch my back. You’re good in a fight- you proved that today- you kept a cool head, and you got Misha out of her panic. I need someone like you, and...” Kenji sighed, “I could use someone who can actually see. I’ll do my best to protect Hanako and the kids, but, in the end, all we can hope for is that we kick them so hard in the balls they won’t be able to kick back.”

I sat in my chair and scratched my chin, thinking. Every logical and sensible part of me wanted to flick Kenji off and run out that office door screaming like a little girl. I wanted to rush home to my wife and kids and hold them and love them, knowing I was safe.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t do that. Kenji was right; these Societies were a threat to the world. Didn’t I owe it to my family to save them from such a threat? Besides, for all Kenji’s faults, if there was anyone I wanted to go spelunking into hell with, he was the one I’d choose. Unless Bruce Willis was available.

I sighed and stuck out my hand, “I’ll stand by you, partner, on one condition.”

Kenji raised an eyebrow, “name it, man.”

“I want our profits split 40-40-20 after taxes, with the twenty percent going to a special account that’s bequeathed to my family, so if anything happens to me, they won’t have to worry abut one thing, at least.”

Kenji immediately grabbed my arm and shook it furiously, “deal, partner.”

I smiled maniacally myself at that, “if anything happens to my family, I’ll kill you.”

Kenji smiled back, “dude, if anything happens to them, I’ll save you the trouble.”

THE END… Of THIS mystery.

+++

Thanks for reading, this was a ton of fun to write, despite the faulty logic and terrible pacing. Thanks as always for the feedback. hope you had as much fun reading as I did writing! Speaking of fun, it doesn’t stop:

Next Time on Hisao and Kenji- Master Detectives!

When a suit of Tokugawa Shogunate era armor is stolen from a local museum, Kenji and Hisao are hired to retrieve it. The armor’s mysterious, secret powers leave out the proper authorities, but they end up leading the detective duo to another Secret Society. They also lead them to some unexpected allies- the United States Secret Service!

Tune in next time for Mystery Two: Wherehouse, Warehouse?

Same thread, same forum!

GOOOOOOOOD MORNING KS FORUM!

We are back for moar Rule of Cool crazy-ness. This time, we have a crossover crack fic, enjoy!


Mystery Two: Wherehouse, Warehouse?

Part One: The Client


One month, one beautiful month of mundane living. Grading papers, loving my family, spending two nights a week in Kenji Setou’s private investigator office eating pizza, drinking whiskey, and solving horribly mundane mysteries. Cheating wives, cheating husbands, blackmailed office employees, it was actually a nice break from the grading of papers and my wife’s mild panic at nearing another writing deadline. Things were looking up for Kenji, too. His writing was making money again, thanks to a history channel special that referenced his work, and as a result he, and by extension, myself, were feeling much less maudlin these days. He had even managed to change the office light bulbs.

Of course it couldn’t last. While Kenji had more or less abandoned his writing career, he wasn’t idle in between cases. He spent most of his time looking over some documents a previous client had given us. The realization that the ancient Secret Societies that tried to take over or run the world were real had excited him like nothing ever before had or could. He was determined to find a way to destroy the Societies quietly and covertly, and to destroy them for good.
He got his chance sooner then either of us expected. I, Hisao Nakai, helped stop a Knight Templar plot to destroy the Illuminati, and got to help the United States Secret Service, too. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

After a rather enjoyable Saturday morning science class, I spent part of the afternoon with Kenji in his office, helping him find some guy’s Tanabata love interest who had moved to Australia, or possibly Alaska, it was hard to tell. My wife, Hanako, didn’t really mind me working as Kenji’s partner- the money was a nice bonus, and she spent most of the time with either our two kids or her best friend Lilly Williams and her husband, so it worked out for everyone. Especially since she didn’t know about the huge target over Kenji and I’s heads.

Kenji, a twenty-eight year old man, with thick round glasses and a cheap brown suit and black hair, was sitting across from me behind his office desk, his laptop mere inches from his face. Being legally blind, he needed to get close to things to see, usually. A gold and red scarf was draped around his neck and shoulders. A mostly empty pizza box sat on the desk between us, as did an empty whiskey bottle and two glasses. The office was still a mess; I hadn’t gotten around to cleaning it yet, and Kenji didn’t seem to care to. Or maybe he couldn’t see it. A hat stand by the door had our brown fedoras perched atop it.

The front door to our studio apartment turned office opened and an older man in an aging brown suit shuffled in, his brown brimmed hat held in his hands in front of him. The guy gave me a Godfather vibe, for some reason. I hope he didn’t expect an invitation to my daughter’s wedding; he’d probably be dead before she got engaged.

Deciding against any more whiskey for the day, I tossed the empty bottle lightly into the recycle bin with the others as I stood up, nudging Kenji along the way.

“Who’s there?!” he said, bolting upright and reaching under his desk. Knowing he was going for the sawed off shotgun he kept under there, I placed a hand on his shoulder, “welcome to Setou and Nakai Private Investigative Services, how can we help you?”

Putting my name on the business was probably a bad idea, but Kenji had insisted I get equal billing- and that he’d gladly take any bullets it brought toward me. How he’d see them coming, I had no idea.

The old man sat in the only other chair and stared gloomily at Kenji as he sat down and closed his laptop, “I… I don’t know where else to go, but my daughter told me about your writing once, Mr. Setou, and I thought, if anyone would believe me, it would be you.”

Uh-oh. That could not be good. I sat down in the chair next to the man and rolled back a bit to give him some breathing room.

“Start from the beginning please, Mr…?” I trailed off.

“Sasaki. Tomoyuki Sasaki,” he said, glancing at me, “and you would be Mr. Nakai?”

I nodded, “indeed.”

“Alright,” he turned back to Kenji, “well, it started several years ago, actually. I’m a curator at a local museum, and several years ago we received some items from a very old family’s estate. One of the items was a suit of armor dating back to the Tokugawa Shogunate. It supposedly belonged to a warrior of great fame, who had never been defeated in battle.”

The older man’s eyes looked nervous, so I encouraged him to go on, “well, it sounds ridiculous, but… the armor was about my size, so I… tried it on. I don’t even know why; I felt… compelled to, really,” he coughed into his hat, paused, and continued when we said nothing- hell, if I had the chance to wear a samurai’s armor, I would, “when I wore that armor, I felt…powerful. I got a little carried away and I… I accidentally punched a hole in one of the museum’s walls. One of its brick walls.”

Kenji and I raised our eyebrows; I did not like where this was going, “I took the armor off, cleaned it up, and we put it in the exhibit, no one the wiser. Well, almost. You see, I had to tell the janitor what had happened to keep him quiet on the matter, and in return for his silence… he wore the armor, too. Just for a minute! Oh, if anyone found out about this, I could be fired, my family disgraced forever, forced to work as tanners the rest of their days!”

Someone was old-fashioned, “don’t worry, we pride ourselves on our confidentiality,” Kenji said.

That encouraged Mr. Sasaki, so he continued, “well, several days ago, the armor went missing. I looked everywhere for it, but I couldn’t find it.”

I nodded in understanding, “and you want us to find it?”

“Yes, but… there’s more… the same day it went missing, the janitor missed his shifts. In fact, he hasn’t been to work since the armor went missing.”

“You think he stole it?” I asked.

“I’d bet my salary on it,” he replied, fingers clamped around his hat brim, “most likely to sell it in an auction somewhere. If you two can find him and recover that armor, and not tell anyone what I did, or what the armor can do, I would be most grateful.”

Kenji quickly told Mr. Sasaki our hourly rates and extra fees system. When Kenji was finished, the curator smiled and his shoulders slackened; I guess he was expecting to have to pay more.

“That will work wonderfully,” he said.

“Sounds like we’re in business,” I said, “we just need you to fill out some basic forms, and we can get to work.”

Mr. Sasaki nodded as Kenji found and laid out the required paperwork. As he set out filling them out, he paused, “there’s one more thing, that might help you find him if he isn’t at his home- on his right hand he wears a gold ring.”

“Did it have anything stamped on it?” Kenji asked, his eyes narrowed behind his thick glasses.

Mr. Sasaki nodded, “a square-ish looking Christian cross.”

Oh darn.

+++

Next Chapter

It’ll be a sad day when I get a job and can’t spend all day writing. Or playing video games.

The money will dampen that sadness, at least. And allow more video games.

I really would like a mouse at this blasted computer lab.

Good news, everyone! I’m writing in… metric.

Dun dun… DUN!

Previous Chapter

Part Two: The Trail


The janitor, whose name was Jeffrey Mookjai, was apparently a French/Thai immigrant whose family had bolted during the Vietnam War. That’s what Kenji had managed to find on him after a weekend’s fact-finding, at least. Suspecting some time in an underground bunker shooting people in the knees, I spent the weekend catching up on schoolwork, working on my aim, and playing chess with my wife. My son wasn’t old enough to play, but he and my daughter loved checkers. I told Hanako my weekday evenings might be spent with Kenji for a few days, which I knew she didn’t really like, but she understood the manly bond of brotherhood we shared- besides, it kept Kenji from coming over for dinner for a while.

I spent Monday evening in my car with Kenji in front of the shabby apartments where Jeffrey lived. After asking for him to buzz us in, pretending to be a Bible salesman- it was all I could think of- and getting no answer, we decided to wait to see if he would leave- or if someone would come for him.

“Your wife is awesome, you know that?” Kenji asked. He had an annoying inability to not talk for more then five minutes when he wasn’t being shot at.

“I know,” I said. From anti-feminist crusader to Destroyer of Secret Societies- nice to know he’s gotten older and wiser, too. It only took ten years and a college degree. Now if I could just get him a date.

“I should get her and the kids something kickass for Christmas,” he said.

I was about to say something pointless when the ancient metal door of the complex creaked open and someone walked out. Whoever they were, they were wrapped in a trench coat and wore a wide brimmed hat low over their head.

“How annoyingly cliché,” I said.

“Is someone out there?” Kenji asked.

I sighed and told him what I saw. His eyes narrowed, “damn, no way to tell who it is, is there?”

“No, but this guy seems to be going to a lot of effort to hide his appearance,” I said.

Kenji nodded, “good point. Try and tail him.”

I readjusted my brown fedora so I could see better, started the car and waited a while before slipping out of my parking spot to follow the stranger. I was trying my best to drive casually and not raise the guy’s suspicions. I have done this about thirty times too many for Kenji, so I’m pretty good at it. Still, this guy seemed pretty wary, and the route he was taking looked rather random. I backed off for a while and used my eyes to follow him. When I started after him again he was in a really shoddy part of town. After a quick look around he entered what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse.

Yeah, and I’m the Emperor’s cousin. Kenji swore next to me, “damn, this is not good.”

I sighed and turned to him, “looks like we need to pop the trunk.”

Kenji nodded, his face set, “whoever this guy is working for, they have no idea who they’re fucking with.”

I managed to find a parking spot a ways away. We stepped out and I popped the trunk. When Kenji insisted I load the trunk of my car with weapons, I almost hit him over the head with a whiskey bottle. Then he went and said his spleen was acting up, so I reluctantly packed the two briefcases of weapons and strapped on a concealed holster. Looking around, I carefully opened the two briefcases and pulled out Kenji’s black World War I era Colt .45 pistol. Kenji grabbed a small black 94 Nambu pistol, and we took three clips of ammo each. He also took three flashbangs and a small pack of C-4 with an attached timer. I grabbed a flashbang and a regular grenade. We tossed our fedoras inside the trunk before I closed it- I didn’t want to risk mine getting shot. Again.

“This place will probably have cameras,” I said as I looked around again to make sure the streets were still clear, “and we have no idea what’s in there, how many of them there are, or even who they are.”

“Relax man, I have a plan,” Kenji said.

Kenji explained the plan on the way back to the warehouse. It was actually pretty good- we look around for cameras, try to get onto the roof to look inside, and then Kenji would plant a small hidden camera inside somewhere- he kept one in his pocket at all times, he said. Just in case. After that he would form a plan of infiltration that would hopefully not get us killed.

We were armed for a firefight for our protection, not to storm the place. The fact that we ended up doing that was a contingency plan of Kenji’s. One that, had he told me, I would have hit him over the head with the whiskey bottle. Several times.

I’m kidding- it managed to work out fine. The exterior was camera free, which made me nervous. When I asked Kenji about it he reminded me about the file we had on the Templars: they liked their anonymity, it’s what kept them alive after Pope Clement V and King Phillip of France had them disbanded. That meant getting more info on them would be difficult, but it might make our job a hell of a lot easier. Assuming the place was a Templar base in the first place- so far we weren’t sure.

Getting up on the roof was a bit of work, but my heart didn’t mind too much. While I rested Kenji pulled out what looked like a dull gray metal tarantula. He flipped up a flap on its back and started fiddling with a tiny keypad about an inch from his face. Once my heart recovered I started looking around for a skylight or something. I didn’t find one, but there were several large fan ducts that went straight down. The fans were on because of the summer heat, but every now and then I got a glimpse of what looked like a sprawling research lab.

“Kenji, does that thing have audio?” I asked.

Kenji shook his head as he snapped the flap closed. The thing started moving in his hands, “nah, man, I couldn’t fit audio equipment on it. Do you see a vent I can aim this thing at?”

“Hang on,” I said. One of the fans had stopped, and I saw a small squad of what looked like security guards rush past with rifles. A few seconds later I saw one running back, but he was hit with a blast of arcing blue energy and collapsed onto the floor.

“Something is going on down there.”

“Really?” Kenji asked. I looked up at him. He was wearing his maniacal grin, which usually meant bad things were ahead. He looked down at the roof and back at me, and my heart skipped a beat- a very bad thing, by the way.

“No! No, no no no no! We are not going down there now!”

“C’mon, man, now might be our best chance to infiltrate this place! We can even use the front door!”

“No way. We have no idea what is going on down there, no idea of its layout, and no idea where the armor is! Not to mention getting it out!”

Kenji scoffed, “dude, I thought of that. We go through the front door, aim a gun a the first person we see, ask him what’s going down, pistol whip him, find the security room, grab the armor, blast the place with C-4 and then all we have to do is get out and take out anyone who gets in our way.”

I rolled my eyes and sighed, “why is it whenever we infiltrate a Secret Society’s hidden outpost, our plan of infiltration and escape inevitably devolves into ‘shoot everyone we see and blow the place up on our way out’?”

Kenji shrugged, “because it works?”

I sighed again, “alright, but we need to be careful. I think this place is some sort of science lab; I recognize some of the equipment I saw down there, and I doubt they’re using it to make potato light bulbs.”

Getting back down to the street was pretty easy, the ladders along the left wall were old but sturdy. As we went down Kenji turned his little robot thing off and shoved it in a pocket. By the time we got to the front door we both had our hands on our pistols under our suits. I took the right side of the door and he took the left. Since the windows of this place were all boarded up, I wasn’t worried about being expected. I had so many other things to be worried about, anyway.

I looked at Kenji and he nodded at me, his face set. He checked the door; it was locked.

Looking a little sheepish, he reached into his jacket pocket to grab his lockpicking tools. I made sure no one was around as he picked the lock. When it clicked open he put away his kit and swung the door open. I yanked out my Colt and aimed it down the dark hallway in front of us.

“Clear,” I said. Kenji stood up, pulled out his pistol, and moved forward, scanning the hall. With one last resigned sigh, I followed.

Like last time, we entered a long white hall, except this one was painted blue. To our left was a counter behind thick glass, and an empty chair with several small screens to the chair’s left. A laptop was perched to the right. Down the hall were several doors on each side, alternating as they went down the hall, which ended after roughly a hundred meters with a pair of wide, high, wooden white doors that bore the bulky red cross of the Templars. The primary lights were out, and a bunch of smaller light blue ones were on instead, set along the edges of the ceiling.

“Why do these guys insist on advertising their Secret Society at the front door?” I asked Kenji as he snooped around the front counter, the door to which was about six meters in front of us and open.

“It’s like a gang tag,” he said, carefully walking into the counter, gun drawn.

“Room clear, and I found the front guard,” he said. I followed him through the blue door and saw what he meant. The front guard, wearing dark blue pants and shirt under navy blue body armor, was sprawled out on the floor. It took me a second to notice he was breathing. I kneeled down next to him and put my fingers on his neck.

“He’s not dead,” I said. Kenji kneeled down next to me and pointed to his belt; he had a sheath and a gun holster, both of which were empty. He also had a gold ring on his right hand with the Templar symbol stamped into it.

“We definitely found a Templar research lab,” Kenji said, getting up to check the monitors.

“Yeah, we’re also screwed,” I said, “last time we did this, the place was smaller, we had the advantage of surprise, and we had twice as many people with us,” even if one of them never did anything, except pay us, that is. I’m married, thank you, so you can stop thinking dirty thoughts.

“Golden Throne, someone is really fucking this place up,” Kenji said.

I got up and stood next to Kenji. There were four small monitors and four windows open on the laptop, along with a half finished game of Solitaire. Guards and men in light blue labcoats were sprawled everywhere, but two screens caught my eye. One had what looked like a fight of blasts of blue lightning, as some sort of firefight had broken out in one of the research labs. The other was the suit of samurai armor we had come for, laid out flat on a bench in one of the few secure labs.

“This place is on lockdown,” Kenji said, “the laptop’s hooked up to the lab’s security alerts.”

“Hell, this laptop is probably the entire security monitoring system,” I looked at Kenji, “can you lift the lockdown?”

“Yes, but not the way you think,” Kenji said, smiling maniacally again, “remember when I grabbed that block of C-4?”

“…Yes,” I said.

“I’m carrying five more with me.”

“Where?!” I asked. I had given up asking Kenji “why” questions about eight years ago.

“Strapped to my legs, duh man,” he said, frowning, “I should have enough to blast any door you need me to unlock.”

How disturbingly comforting. Looking around for the guard’s weapons, and not finding them, I sighed and nodded, “all right, start with the one at the end of the hall.”

He nodded back, and gripping his pistol, slowly stalked back out into the hall. Praying to several of my favorite kami, and God while I was at it, I gripped my Colt tightly and followed him out into the hall.

+++

Next Chapter

Gee, what could possibly go wrong?

Have I mentioned lately that I love my job?

Sorry for any serious errors- I'm on a time limit of internet usage on this thing.

We tossed our fedoras inside the trunk before I closed it- I didn’t want to risk mine getting shot. Again.

When I read this line I had a mental image of Hanako picking Hisao's fedora up and examining it closely for a few moments before finding a blackened bullet hole around the brim somewhere. In my head, she immediately passed out. I chuckled hysterically for a few minutes. I feel bad about that, for some reason.

Also, why is this so devoid of commentary. Don't people realize you've turned Kenji and Hisao into Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson? With guns? And legal blindness? And a heart condition? And-

Need more!

While I'm at it; have you, perhaps, been in on the beta weekends for The Secret World? You mentioned video games, and the inclusion of the Illuminati and Templars as underlying themes would seem to be an indicator thereof. If not, I'll just file that under 'baseless musing' and call it a day.

Is a white corridor still a white corridor when it is painted blue?
And why does Hisao check the pulse if he already noticed the man was breathing?

Mirage_GSM wrote:And why does Hisao check the pulse if he already noticed the man was breathing?

To check for a regular Heartbeat? Having an irregular heartbeat can be as lethal as having no heartbeat at all.

Not to put a too fine point on it, but Hisao doesn't really seem to bee too concerned about that guys physical well-being.

Helbereth wrote: While I'm at it; have you, perhaps, been in on the beta weekends for The Secret World? You mentioned video games, and the inclusion of the Illuminati and Templars as underlying themes would seem to be an indicator thereof. If not, I'll just file that under 'baseless musing' and call it a day.

I'm familar with the MMO from beta letsplays and the commercials. While intrigued, Rift has first dibs on my money for my next mmo, to give tmi.

Glad you like it, more is on the way When I get back home.

Mirage_GSM wrote:Not to put a too fine point on it, but Hisao doesn't really seem to bee too concerned about that guys physical well-being.

He's being thorough I guess. I'm giving Hisao a bit of a Technical Pacifist streak, but he is very much upset that people continue to shoot him.

And the color of the corridor thing was a nod to Hisao's "Like a thing. Or another thing. Or a thing of the first thing" thought process.

Hoitash wrote:And the color of the corridor thing was a nod to Hisao's "Like a thing. Or another thing. Or a thing of the first thing" thought process.

I actually thought it was very Adams-esque.

Well, I was going to wait until tuesday, but someone had used a silver Sharpie to write a threatening note on my bottle of Jack, so here you go:

Previous Chapter

Part Three: Infiltration


Each door between us and the double doors at the end of the hall were a potential security threat. Fortunately, each one was locked shut, but we still ducked under each one carefully, slowly reaching the end of the hall. The double doors were solid and windowless, so we had no idea what we were facing. Kenji smiled and slapped a pack of C-4 onto the locks.

“When I hit the red button, we have five seconds to get back to the front counter,” Kenji said.

I groaned, “thanks for the warning.”

Kenji smiled and hit the button. We just barely made it to the counter when the explosive, well, exploded. The noise resonated through the hall as the shockwave blasted the metal doors locks, melting and twisting what wasn’t forced away or destroyed in the explosion.. I imagined that’s what happened, at least, while I covered my ears and my heart decided it really didn’t like large explosions.

“You’re insane!” I yelled at Kenji.

“Yeah, but it’s the good insane,” Kenji replied. I managed to recover my senses and I ducked out into the hall, pistol ready. I ducked back in before the bullets zoomed past. A lot of bullets.

“Sounds like some serious shit,” Kenji said, “I swear I hear an AK-74uMad.”

I blinked, “remind me to get you on a dating site; you’re playing too much Call of Duty again.”

I blind fired a few shots into the hall, and Kenji did the same as he kneeled behind me. If we didn’t think of something, we were in for a bad day.

“Flashbang time,” Kenji said, his voice low. He pulled out one of the cylindrical grenades, readied it, and tossed it down the hall. We both quickly covered our ears and closed our eyes as the stunning device went off.

It still hurt a little, but we were able to rush the hall. Four security guards were stunned and ahead of the newly opened double doors, and we managed to down them as we took cover behind the remains of the double doors. Kenji did most of the shooting at that point. Thanks to some mob connections, I was able to confide in a trusted therapist the last time I had to kill someone. It had been in self defense, but it still hadn’t set right, and I swore to myself I wouldn’t kill again unless I had no choice. I had decided, however, to be a bit lax on the subject of kneecaps.

The double doors led to a short hall perpendicular to us with three more double doors and two side doors, one on each end. All of which were locked except the left double doors, which looked…electrocuted. The four downed guards were dressed like the one at the front, except they had their weapons. In addition to the AK-74u’s- Kenji had been right about that- they also had holstered 9 mil pistol’s and what looked like a European crusader sword. The last time we had infiltrated a Secret Society, the guards had had swords, too. Last time we had also come with someone who knew how to use one. Though said person had managed to teach me a few things, I didn’t exactly feel confident at the prospect of a sword fight. Still, I wanted to be prepared, so a grabbed one of the guard’s sword and sheath and strapped it to my belt. The thing was heavy and made me feel unbalanced.

“Good idea,” Kenji said. He was darting around nervously as he grabbed a sword and sheath for himself. I think the emergency lighting was making it even harder for him to see. He was working on his other senses, but he was still disturbingly dependent on his limited eyesight. He looked behind him and glared at the door at the end of the hall.

“That door might be the auxiliary security room,” Kenji said, “the other room is probably generators and spare equipment.”

“The armor is our main goal, and it’s in the far right door according to the front security system,” I said, “but get us in the security room so we can get a better handle on what’s going on.”

Kenji nodded and pulled out another pack of C-4…somehow without taking off his pants. Probably better that way. He paused when we reached the door to carefully place the explosive on the door latch. He looked to me and I said I was ready. He pushed the button and we once again darted down the hall and to the left into the front hall. We both managed to cover our ears against the explosion, which shook the walls and once again reduced a portion of a door to twisted metal and a hole where the lever had been.

“That may have been a bit much,” Kenji said, lowering his hands and aiming his pistol in front of him.

“Maybe a bit,” I said, readying my Colt in front of me. I poked my head out into the hall but the room looked empty. When no one shot at me I slowly moved forward, Kenji behind me. The door was indeed reduced to pieces. We scanned the threshold and, seeing only another body on the ground, we walked inside. I watched the hall while Kenji sat in the rolling office chair and started looking at the various monitors and screens that covered the black metal desk in front of him. The room wasn’t very big, though behind him on the wall was a large video game poster.

“Why is the power out?” I asked.

“This place has its own generator,” Kenji said a minute later, “it shut itself down when something overloaded. Whatever that something was took out most of the camera feeds and a lot of the main power- this place must have a small backup generator, too.”

“Probably. Can you wipe the camera footage from here?”

“No, this system is separate from the counter's feeds; we’ll have to do it on our way out. Uh-oh.”

“What?”

Kenji stood up and took cover behind the left wall. I instinctively did the same on the right side, “we got a fire team comin’ out of the middle research lab and another coming from the room across the hall- it’s the utility room.”

“How many?” I asked.

“In total, eight men. Eight heavily armed men with weird looking pistols.”

“More flashbangs?” I asked.

Kenji shook his head, “bigger, we need to conserve our ammo- there’s two more squads guarding the armor, and it looks like a security alert’s been broadcast, so if we don’t get out of here soon-”

“We’ll be trapped,” I finished the sentence for him, “can you say deja vu?”

"Yes, actually,” Kenji said, “I studied several languages in college.”

Before Kenji could start a rant both the middle double doors and the door across from us swung open. I was expecting flashbangs, but apparently Templars relied on superior numbers, because they swarmed into the hall and formed two firing lines of four. The second row had more AK’s, but the first row had strange metal pistols. I ducked back and reached for my grenade, waiting for my chance.

“Be quick, man,” Kenji said, “if they don’t take us out in the first go they’ll leapfrog to us.”

“Got it,” I said, just as the bullets started flying in. The walls around us were fortunately bullet proof, or we would’ve been dead. It didn’t take long for their magazines to run dry, and before the next round of fire could hit I threw the readied grenade.

Before the grenade could go off the first line fired. I could tell it was them because instead of bullets, bolts of blue lightning arced and danced around us. The jolts seemed to avoid me, as if they were repulsed and forced away. Kenji had jumped back, but a few bolts avoided him also. One of them set off the grenade, which exploded halfway towards the lines somewhat harmlessly, if they were still shooting at us.

“What the hell are those?” he asked.

“No idea, but a better question would be, why aren’t they hitting me?”

“Our swords,” Kenji said. I looked down and noticed my newly acquired Templar sword was glowing a light blue.

“Either there are orcs around, or that thing can repel those jolts,” he said.

“I suppose that’s possible,” I conceded; I had read several articles on magnets and electricity over the years. Still, it stretched my understanding of science to be shot at with lightning guns that were repelled by a sword.

I unsheathed the sword and held it awkwardly with my right hand, my left firmly holding my pistol. When the electricity stopped we both fired three quick shots into the hall. That’s when they started moving forward, their footsteps echoing through the hall. We fired another burst and stopped to reload. While we reloaded we heard shouts and more blasts of lightning.

“They’re being surrounded,” Kenji said.

“How can you tell?” I asked.

“I learned some French in college, remember?”

Right. He also knew some English, Russian, and Spanish. He wasn’t fluent in any of them, but he could get by. After more shouting and bolts of lightning the footsteps stopped. For a bit we didn’t hear anything, and we waited, poised for an assault through the doorway. The attack didn’t come. Instead, we started hearing whispering. Whispering in English. I looked to Kenji but he shook his head.

I cautiously peered out into the hall. A relatively young woman with long, curly light brown hair was standing next to a taller man with short darker brown hair. They were both armed with strange-looking pistols. They were wearing black suits and facing towards the other room, the door of which was still open. Kenji moved to walk outside but I stopped him- he almost tripped over one of the guards. They had gotten closer then I thought. I crouched down next to him. He was alive but unconscious. He was still holding the strange pistol, so I picked it up to examine it.

The thing was… fascinating. It was an odd mix of English Victorian-era elegance, modern machinery, and a bit of campy sci-fi all mixed into one device. The pistol had a sleek brass handle, with a black body. Instead of a barrel, their was a brass tube connected to a small glass-like tube filled with arcing and sparking blue energy between two prongs at the ends of the tube, which continued down into the device. On the left side of the pistol was a small dial with different settings, and five blue bars. Three of the bars were still lit.

“Kenji, this is some sort of… stun gun,” I whispered to me partner, “it still has three shots.”

“That must be why their swords repel them, as a safety measure,” he replied.

“Most likely,” I carefully dragged the guard closer and started searching him. I took his gun holster and also found a bulky black charging station for the device he had attached to his belt. Perfect.

“We need another one of these,” I said.

"Right, we also need to ask those two some questions,” he said, pointing across the hall, “whoever they are, their either after the Templars or their freaky tech.”

I nodded and stood up. I holstered my pistol and sheathed my sword, holding out the energy gun in front of me. Side-by-side, we stepped out and slowly meandered toward the door. With Kenji on the left of the door and me on the right, he nodded to me and I nodded back. As one we stepped into the door threshold, our weapons ready, the two unknowns in front of us, looking over the equipment in the room.

“Whoever you two are, I’d avoid shooting us with your guns,” Kenji said, “my friend has a heart condition.”

+++

Next Chapter

Hmm, can a Tesla cause a heart attack in someone with an arrhythmia? I’ll have to ask the first Claudia cosplayer I see.

Four security guards were stunned and ahead of the newly opened double doors, and we were able to and take them out as we took cover behind the remains of the double doors.

Something there needs fixing - rewording, I think.

Now that that's out of the way, why did this have to stop there? It was just getting to the good part! Tell whoever defaced your bottle of Jack I like their style.

*grumble*

Crud, I'll fix that now.

Im gonna stick with my lack of a mouse and a time limit as my excuse while I still can