Chapter I

A Ticket Home

2005 a.t.b., Japan, Hokkaido, Sapporo.

Old man Ose settled into the house on the north-east part of the large city a few years ago. Although not a very reliable neighbor, he was liked by local kids and young people. Ose worked as a freelance journalist for different media companies and was frequently moving around and beyond the country.

No one suspected anything ill when he suddenly disappeared again. Not until the police came one day.

Assistant Inspector Takehara was questioning the teenage boy from across the street while the house was being turned upside-down by senior officers.

"So, Kaname-kun, old man Ose told you he was going to Britannia to meet an old friend?" The boy nodded. He stared at the ground feeling very nervous.

"Did he mentioned his name?" The boy shook his head hurriedly.

Takehara sighed and smiled. "Are you worried about Ose-san?"

Kaname looked up. "Ose-san was acting strange. He didn't read the newspapers. He hadn't even picked them up for days. He always reads them. He even has a newspaper delivery to the postbox every Saturday. And he was very kind. Kinder than usual. He gave us lots of presents every day."

"Hey, Takehara!" Inspector Koumura called. Takehara rushed to him, letting the teenager go.

"Take this to forensics, see what they can find." Koumura gave him an opened envelope in a plastic bag. "Damn it, this case just got very nasty. Or, perhaps, it always was."

Takehara wondered. "Why is that, sir?"

"What do you mean? Have a closer look, you greenhorn!"

Takehara gulped and pierced the envelope with his eyes. Then he gulped again as he saw the seal of the Sakuragi family on it and the date written right before Ose's disappearance.

2005 a.t.b., Japan, Tokushima.

Sarah thrust her knife through the ribs of the carrier. She was too late. The old guy had already given the stolen data to the other Japanese she had seen a moment ago. After hiding in Japan for two years she'd give anything to return to the mainland; Algail appeared just in time.

That shrewd mad-eye man was her most disliked client for a lot of reasons. It seemed he could find anyone anywhere – Sarah thought she had disappeared in this country, but it took him less then a day to locate her since he found out that those discs came to Japan. He had actually removed the imperial bounty on her head as a gift. He promised her a Knightmare Frame and enough money to buy another one if she succeeded.

He didn't say anything about her failing the mission or declining it. He knew very well that Sarah never forgot about Mark Owen and Ravenwraith. They hadn't been heard of after they each failed the man. It's not like they were her friends or anything, but they were in the same business and she sometimes wanted to get back at Algail for making them disappear. But this country, it made her sick, poisoning her more and more each day. She was anxious, Algail was her only chance to leave, and to leave rich.

Sarah took off after the other Japanese who headed deeper into the forest.

Takashi suddenly felt he was being followed. He couldn't afford to lead anybody any closer to their hideout. It was still far off in the shadow of the Sanuki mountains, but it could become dangerously closer if he hadn't started giving chase back.

He frowned. He was grateful to Elder Shin for accepting him after what he did in Tokyo, but so much for the first patrol and the first week at his new home. It wasn't half an hour since he left the secret meeting place. Those who knew about the clan and had some business with them came there. Every once in a while someone from the clan would visit that place to see what it offered them. Usually they would find a message or a parcel. Often they would find traders and exchanged goods, weapons, information. More often they would find an ambush or spies. Less often they would find people in trouble trying to get their help. Sometimes they would find dead people. That night Takashi found a courier, apparently a spy found him and he didn't notice.

At first, she was confident the Japanese wouldn't notice her. Then she began to suspect that he began to suspect something. Then she almost stepped on a spike hidden under the grass. When did he manage to plant it Sarah had no idea. The next moment she jumped aside on instinct as something flew at her legs.

That man was a monster. He was actually throwing things at her. Things were small, star-shaped and metallic, very sharp and very hard to see, they could fly in different trajectories and with different speed.

It took her more than her training to avoid them. Apparently the man didn't intend to kill her right from the start. He mostly targeted her legs and tried to force her into the open, while continuing to blur through the trees. His speed was simply amazing, but he couldn't restrain her. Later he obviously got tired of the idea and that's when things got really troublesome.

After she barely deflected the projectile with her gun she used her first stimulant.

He faced a formidable opponent. Almost as skilled as him, perceptive, cunning, very well equipped and merciless. Upon discovery he activated a smoke screen and opened fire, shooting with remarkable precision. When Takashi jumped through the smoke chill air filled his lungs – the smoke was cold, and those accurate shots were definitely made with the aid of a thermal visor.

They've been running around the forest trying to kill each other for several hours, ambushing, disappearing, making traps and diversions. The last thing Takashi remembered after he felt the bullet kick his bulletproof was the sound of his dagger cutting through thick leaves.

Sarah was cursing herself for chickening out. With a dagger sticking out of her shoulder she couldn't even think of going into a direct encounter; it became obvious later that she too hit the man. The stupid tactical helmet must have malfunctioned and confused the data.

By the time she realized that she had already run all over to the spring. She had used all four stimulant shots and it began to show. She took off her helmet and found a light scratch right at its coolant unit. Sarah could not rely on it any longer, but she couldn't throw it away either. It would be an extra connection to her and Britannia, as well as her gun. But the gun was easier lost in the running water and Sarah didn't really have the luxury of occupying her hands with useless junk.

She tossed the gun down the stream. As she saw it sail away old memories flashed in front of her. She suddenly felt dizzy and started to vomit. Those chemical enhancers messed up her senses and her metabolic system. At least she stopped bleeding. She had to get away soon.

When he opened his eyes he checked his pockets. Fortunately the data discs were still resting inside; his equipment was intact as well. That was good. He found he only had a couple of ribs broken. His pursuer didn't finish him off while he was out – that means he was most likely wounded and finally out of ammo. Very good.

Takashi crawled his way past the bushes to see blood stains all over the ground. The perfectly balanced blade didn't fail. The smell of gunpowder still mixed with the scent of the green – he probably was unconscious for a brief moment. He trailed the blood drops until they disappeared by the stream nearby.

Something gleaming down the water caught his attention. He walked closer and found a handgun caught by a fallen branch. Takashi stepped into the water and picked up the gun. It was a rare firearm: accurate, silent, sturdy, with little recoil, but too expensive for mass production. Special alloy covering it makes it difficult to detect by sensors. It was a weapon for assassination and hunting down unarmored prey. And it was almost a perfect giveaway that its wielder was Britannian. Such a gun was made specifically for their secret ops.

Sarah suddenly heard a sound and turned her head. Her target was coming at her openly with a short curved sword.

"So, this is how it's going to be," she murmured to herself.

She walked out of her cover with her useless helmet off. She held the dagger stained with her blood in her healthy right hand and the knife stained with the blood of the Japanese in the other. That strange, cold fury overcame her like it did three years ago in France, or two years ago in the Chinese Federation.

Takashi was surprised. And, perhaps, irritated. It was still at some distance, but he saw it clearly – he faced a woman. She had blood on her shoulder and on an army knife, a small wild grin on her face and a desperate, dangerous look in her eyes.

"Youkilled the messenger," he called as he looked at the knife.

"Aren't you a smart-mouth," she replied. Her voice was hoarse and weirdly paced. She spoke clean Britannian, but it was a little off, like a foreigner, or someone who didn't speak his native language for a long time. And yet, every feature of her face was Britannian. Then she charged at him running in zig-zags.

"Let's see how smart you are with those toothpicks!" Takashi stopped and pointed his blade at her tracing her movement across the forest clearing.

She came at him from the left, making a fast long slash right with the dagger. She continued with the turning around motion, hiding the direction of her second slash with the knife in her spin. Takashi dodged her first strike and deflected her second. She backed off instantly and started charging at him again and again, probing his guard.

He stayed on the defensive, evading and blocking her attacks. She was risking a lot, yet controlled herself. He could easily predict her. The knowledge of predicting an attack by reading the body language was beaten into him since childhood. It became natural to him. Later he started to rely on mimicry to anticipate his opponent's basic intentions.

Yet, Takashi tried not to look at her face, something he seldom does in a serious battle. And he found it extremely difficult to react in time. Like her speech, her movements were in some impossible unnerving rhyme, as if her perception of time was different. Takashi hissed as he let another opportunity to bring her down go.

Sarah didn't have time to think. She forbid herself to think. If she started to think she would lose her drive, her edge, her rage. Nothing mattered at that moment, nothing except defeating that Japanese. He was on a completely different level at melee combat. Why was he reluctant to strike her? It didn't matter. If he didn't strike back, all the better for her. She just had to keep attacking.

The woman finally did it. She drew herself close, very close, infinitely dangerously for herself close, locked his sword with both blades, flipped and twisted in the air wrenching his weapon out of his hand. She landed her knee with her back towards him and blindly kicked him.

Takashi groaned, his broken ribs screamed in pain. He fell on the ground. He finally saw her face again as she leaped at him with the dagger aimed at his chest. He barely rolled to the side and brought himself up. She had already slashed at him again. He grabbed her arm and knocked her out with a solid punch.

He stared at her for a minute, still half-hanging in his hand, still clutching his own dagger. He forced it out and raised his arm to cut her down. Her dark red hair gently brushed at his feet. Takashi sheathed his dagger and lifted her up.

"We need to interrogate her," he said to himself.