Unconditional Surrender
Operation Meetinghouse, Part II
Tempest of the Dragon
10:00 A.M., Friday, March 9, 1945
Seattle, WA, USA
"You're pensive this morning, china doll."
The final note still rang in the air from the grand piano that was the centerpiece of Edward Fletcher's living room. His granddaughter's eyes remained closed as the last dulcet note faded from her latest skillful effort.
The veteran aircraft engineer, the lead architect of the B-29 Stratofortress and program manager for their ongoing operations, had spoken from the foyer of their Victorian-style house just north of bustling Boeing field. Jessica Fletcher didn't need to open her eyes to sense the man's movement to join her in the sunlit room.
A recent graduate from the University of Washington, and a new engineer herself despite her remarkably youthful looks, the Asian-appearing girl had cause for celebration. Yet she was troubled, and her turbulent mood reflected it. Her perceptive grandfather had no doubt picked up on it. She reopened her brilliant golden eyes as she reached to pull back her long, straight and unbound sandy brown hair, in the process turning and tilting her head to address the towering man now standing just to the side behind her.
She smiled broadly, displaying her perfect white teeth and in the process flashing her strangely long and sharp upper canines. It was a vaguely unsettling expression one of her rare boyfriends had noted looked rather snakelike. The still vigorous but graying man placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "What tipped you off, grandpa?"
"Oh, I dunno," he said congenially, gently scooting his granddaughter to one side of the piano bench and settling himself beside her. "Something about you playing nothing but Moonlight Sonata for the past half hour. I know you, kiddo. You always come back to Pachelbel and Beethoven when you're worried. Whassup?"
Jessica wasn't sure herself what was happening that had her stomach tied in knots. Something was happening, though, and she felt certain it didn't bode well at all. Her smile turned to a grimace as she thought over the recent events playing out in her head.
Barely forty minutes earlier she had been seated in the study shared by the two occupants of the house, intently scanning over data from the latest wind tunnel tests of the prototype B-47 model 432 proposed airfoil for her boss, Vic Ganzer. In an instant the raw numbers before her had vanished and her mind had been suddenly flooded with imagery having nothing to do aerodynamics. It had been overwhelming, covering all five senses in terrifying realism.
She knew the event depicted could only be a massive firebombing in Japan from the perspective of a magical girl as anyone else would have been burned to a crisp.
Although she had never been there, from poring over multitudes of aerial photos taken from F-13 reconnaissance aircraft she arguably knew the layout of Tokyo better than that of her native Seattle. The girl in her vision had been near the Eastern Palace looking in the direction of the center of the city. She had been nearly bereft of any magic and was fading fast.
After collecting herself from the mysterious assault, Jessica had glanced at the antique brass German torsion pendulum clock which sat in its distinctive glass case on the nightstand between her grandfather's desk and her own. She had noted the time, quickly doing the math. Twenty five minutes shy of 0200 Tokyo local on a near moonless night. Doubtless General LeMay was taking advantage of the dim moon and some providential break in the weather to finally take the full horror of unrestricted war to the Nips, compliments of 'her very own' Stratofortresses.
It's about damned time…
Still, the intensity of that imagery had been triggering for her, bringing back terrifying memories that to this day would haunt her sleep…nightmarish memories she desperately wanted to forget but yet still clung to lest she lose her focus now that over seven years of effort was finally coming to fruition.
That weeping child was me back then. Lost…frightened…
Huddled under a rickety wooden dock up to my neck in the muddy waters of the Yangtze, hiding from the insatiable soldiers who caught me outside, saved only by the spirit of the river – and a wish I couldn't refuse...
She shoved her troubled thoughts where they belonged, to the far recesses of her mind, and reached her arm around the man beside her. Her grandfather had been her anchor ever since she'd escaped burning China with nothing but the clothes on her back and her all-important precious blue passport and papers which proved she was an American despite her Chinese heritage, spirited to Hong Kong from Nanking by the wings of her new soul gem and a wish for justice.
"I didn't realize I was that predictable," she said, working up another smile as she glanced down at the now idle authentic ebony and ivory keyboard she was silently fingering. She looked back up to the man next to her. "I suppose I should shake things up a bit. A girl needs her secrets, old man."
The old man in question shrugged his wide shoulders at the evasive answer to his concerned inquiry. "You've got plenty of those, Jess. Is this another night thing?"
She nodded, her smile once again fading. A 'night thing' was a euphemism they had between them to refer to Jessica's life as a magical girl. Jessica had a very ordered mind, keenly categorizing any data that came to her. The wish-granter had warned her that human affairs and magical girl affairs didn't mix. She had taken the warnings to heart.
Her grandfather had pieced much together, but she had made it clear to him not to look too deeply or to interfere lest he put himself in danger. After unintentionally finding himself in now three grid events, two just since her graduation from UW, he didn't question anymore.
"Yeeeaaahhh," she said, nodding. She pursed her lips, then leaned over to place her head against her grandfather's strong arm, still looking up at him. "That's the long and the short of it. Something is happening but I can't tell what. I just need reassurance right now, since I can't really do anything about it but wait and see what it means."
"Waiting is often the hardest part. Especially in a war." The man's expression turned contemplative and melancholy as he doubtless thought back to his own experiences with such things. First as a soldier at the turn of the century in Cuba and then again almost twenty years later in war-torn France, that time flying his friend and mentor Bill Boeing's new seaplanes. "I'm so sorry fate has made you a warrior, sweetheart. I know I'm useless here, worse than that really, but forgive this old soldier his regret that he can't fight his granddaughter's battles."
"Meh," she said dismissively and turned her face down to hide her own clouding expression. "It's not your fault. I made my own choices."
"You didn't choose to join my son on his mission to China," said a voice tinged with regret. "He was the one who thought it would be a good experience for you to take in some of your mom's heritage since she was no longer with us to do it herself."
"And I have no regrets over that," Jessica responded emphatically. "China was beautiful and I hope to see it again someday. China wasn't the problem. I was fine until the Japs plundered their way to Nanking."
"I've pointed out before that my son should have gotten you out. He waited too long."
"And I'll repeat that Father never thought the Japanese Army would leave Shanghai," she replied, shaking her head gently against the arm she clung to for reassurance. "After that, he thought I'd be in more danger in the countryside than holed up with Minnie at Ginling." She paused a moment as she tamped back new images passing through her mind. Images of depravity that still filled her mind whenever she let it wander too far, hence why she loved her work and the distraction it provided. "Given what I saw when I fled south, I have no doubt he was right."
"The other western girls all got out."
Jessica straightened back up and pulled back to draw the man's attention to look at her - all of her. Long, narrow Fletcher nose, yes, but set in yellow skin with narrow eyelids surrounding eyes which, while now brilliant gold, had been dark brown before her wish. Her height might betray her European heritage if you knew what you were looking for, but her frame was narrow and she'd never have any breasts to speak of. There was a reason her grandfather's pet name for her was 'china doll.'
"Grandpa, look at me," she retorted with a chiding, stern voice and expression. "I'm not western. Certainly not enough to be persuasive. I'm western enough to be exotically appealing, but not enough to have privilege. Worst of all worlds when surrounded by ten thousand sex starved rapists with guns, knives, and swords…and a god-like sense of entitlement."
"All men feel entitled, silly. It comes with the ego," an amused girl's soprano voice called from the archway leading into the living room from the foyer. "I can report breakfast is coming along nicely. Lots of bacon. You have to tell me how you get it despite rationing sometime, Mr. Fletcher. Assuming you wouldn't then have to kill me, of course." The speaker's face lifted into an endearingly cute smirk at that thought. "And then there's the lovely coffee. I was thinking of making some. Any takers? Or perhaps tea?"
Both Jessica and her grandfather turned to look across the room at the new speaker. With classic, voluptuous Scandinavian features, Linda Kelley could only be described as stunning. Well, either that or drop-dead gorgeous. Everything I'm not, thought the self-conscious Jessica.
Like Jessica, the smiling blonde was a magical girl, hence her infectious humor at the idea of even the imposing Edward Fletcher presenting her any kind of threat. She was also a flier, up visiting from San Francisco.
Unlike Jessica or her grandfather, the true sixteen year old actually enjoyed cooking. Her occasional visits were a treat for both occupants of the house, although especially for Jessica who found the camaraderie very enjoyable. The nearest magical girls to Seattle were in either San Francisco or Denver. It was easy to feel isolated.
Jessica's smile back to her friend was heartfelt and unreserved. She was grateful for the brief respite from her thoughts. "Coffee for me, please. You know how I like it."
"Oh yeah. Black as night. Ugh! I don't know how you can drink that stuff. Mr. Fletcher?"
"Coffee for me, too, please, Linda."
"Two cubes and some cream. Yeah, I know. Are you sure you two are related?"
Jessica just stuck out her tongue at the grinning girl as she retreated back into her favorite room in the house, the spacious kitchen filled with conveniences – new enough to be rare – such as an electric stove and refrigerator, from a remodel just prior to the war.
Jessica watched as her friend disappeared and then found her thoughts, and her expression, returning to where she and her grandfather had left off. She sighed. "Anyway, let's not talk ill of the dead. Daddy did all he could to protect me and all the women holed up in Ginling Girl's College. I daresay Minnie would never have saved as many as she did without his help."
Jessica's head drooped in familiar sadness as she remembered her mentor and friend. She had committed suicide in Indianapolis four years earlier over despair from having failed to save all of the girls in her care. "Damn them all to Hell. Every one of them," she whispered under her breath. She looked back up at her grandfather, her jaw set again in determination against the troubling images from Tokyo . The images brought doubts, doubts she didn't want and could scarcely afford.
"Sweetheart, I keep warning you how dangerous it is to make this so personal. You know the Bible as well as I do, honey. Jesus expects us to forgive. Anyway, the Army Air Force will make quick work of Japan now that they've built up Tinian and readied Iwo. No more flying from Chengdu in liberated China. I'm sorry I couldn't pull off you joining me in December when I toured the Marianas facilities. It's an amazing operation."
As she listened to the man's words, she found her lips curving upwards again. "'Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition.' Forgive the Japs but wow aren't the bases on Saipan just swell!"
Her smirk at the irony of her grandfather's mixed message faded as she continued, looking up again into her grandfather's eyes with what she suspected was a vaguely haunted expression. "Did you know we're bombing the Hell out of Tokyo right now, this very minute? Mark 69 napalm and Mark 47 white phosphorus on a crowded city built entirely of wood and rice-paper."
Her grandfather's eyebrow rose in surprise. "How…"
"Night stuff," she said simply in order to cut him off. "And no, it isn't normal for me to know like this, hence why I'm on edge."
The older man gulped at the new knowledge and his brow furrowed in clear worry. He reached a hand over and placed it on Jessica's tense shoulder, once again trying to be reassuring despite his inability to help in any measurable way.
"Anyway," she resumed the earlier conversation, her concerns once again shunted aside, "next time I'm going with you even if I have to hide in your luggage. I doubt they can keep me off the plane if I'm really motivated."
She did manage to grin at that thought, and her eyebrows twitched in humor despite the undercurrent of worry. A gnawing need to join 'her planes' had been rising within her for a few weeks, and she sensed now that her presence in the field might entail more than just fulfilling professional curiosity and flirting with a bunch of boys she'd have practically all to herself.
If the Jap girls start to interfere with the sorties…
It didn't take much imagination at all to envision what that would mean for the Stratofortresses or the brave men flying them. As sturdy as they were when pitted against Zeroes, the high-flying bombers and their valiant and tenacious Iwo Jima based Mustang fighter escorts wouldn't stand a chance against even one determined magical girl.
She suppressed the shiver that threatened to run the length of her spine.
Her grandfather chuckled, unaware of his granddaughter's darker thoughts. "Oh, I doubt they could stop you either, supergirl," he responded to her words affectionately, although she couldn't help but note how his words addressed her internal worries as well. It all just depended on who 'they' were. He reached up, lightly tussling her hair, before rising from the seat and beginning to make his way out of the room.
He stopped, and looked back at her.
"Just think on what I said about forgiveness, china doll. I've seen aerial photos of Dresden. We've both read the classified reports." The man shivered. "If you're somehow connecting to that, don't forget those are human beings dying, no matter how much you may hate them for what their army did to your friends. Don't lose your humanity, okay sweetheart?"
Friends? Oh, if only it were limited to just the people I knew.
Her hands clenched as she fought back the images that threatened to roll over her consciousness and take over her mind. Memories of bodies strewn everywhere, hacked into pieces. Severed heads tossed around like children's kickballs. Women violated and then killed through the very opening the men had pleasured themselves with.
Young girls dragged off, pulled from the arms of their screaming mothers who often as not were killed before their child's eyes for their protests.
Girls never to be seen again.
Her eyes narrowed and once again her jaw clenched as tight as her bloodless knuckles resting on the piano keyboard.
"I love you, grandpa," she said evenly, "but this time you don't know what the Hell you're talking about."
The man locked eyes with his beloved but determined granddaughter before lowering his face from the withering gaze. "No, I suppose I don't," he finished sorrowfully.
Jessica watched as her mentor and best friend sadly turned to exit the room when the hair on the back of her neck stood on end followed immediately by a loud POP! and the sensation of a great static shock. Jessica reflexively transformed, and her knees flung the piano bench behind her as she pounced to a defensive crouching position. Instead of two people, there were now four in the room.
Teleportation!
Between her and her grandfather now stood two forms, she instantly knew they were both magical girls, just starting to react to their new environment.
Quick as thought she materialized one of her weapons, a red, brown and gold Colt M1911A1 pistol. The weapon matched in coloration the traditional, tight-fitting crimson cheongsam sleeveless dress that was her transformed clothing, an outfit that doubtless had been influenced by her time in China where she had contracted. A five-toed golden Dragon emblazoned the front of her dress from hem to neck, its sinuous tail to head woven seamlessly into the fabric such that it was indistinguishable and inseparable from the dress itself. The serpentine motif was also reflected on the grip of her weapon, and in fact on whatever her magic manifested.
She jumped to grab the nearest new girl in a lock with one arm, her gun shoved firmly into the blonde back of her head just above where a voluminous purple cloak descended from the girl's shoulders. Her hand around the girl found purchase on the clasp of the cloak, and she immediately recognised that the functional object was also the girl's soul gem, giving the American yet another threat to hold over the captive girl.
Jessica noted what looked to be a magnificent, almost iridescent bird emblazoned on the cape fabric, but she couldn't be sure and in any case she had far more important details to focus her attention on. She firmly grasped the girl's gem, making sure the new arrival was fully aware of all the options Jessica now had with which to end the girl's existence.
She knew with a glance that her own actions had been essentially mirrored by the other new arrival; a diminutive girl with a sapphire soul gem on her forehead and light-blue ribbons and blue-hued feathers adorning her raven hair. The aquamarine-clad Puella Magi now stood behind her grandfather, mostly hidden from view by the much larger man. Her tiny hand snaked up to firmly grasp her grandfather's windpipe, poised to crush it and most likely the skull immediately above it for good measure.
Despite the difference in size and apparent strength, there was no doubt of the grave threat to the larger of the two. A classic standoff had developed as Jessica and, apparently, a Japanese girl stared at each other past their captives' bodies and the distance of the room.
She tried to reach out to Linda with her mind to warn her friend what was happening…and recoiled as she felt her thoughts rapped as if by a ruler from a strict classroom nun.
A teleporter and a telepath, she thought, still smarting from the sting in her mind. Not good.
Without any delay, she blocked her mind to further mindspeech, closing any holes that might give the other girl an opening should she think to use her mind as a weapon. At least she hoped so, having never before encountered a specialist in telepathy.
She cursed the timing. Just a minute earlier and her grandfather would have been right beside her where she could have protected him. Instead, she watched as the Japanese girl's eyes narrowed purposefully as the grip tightened on her grandfather's throat.
This has got to be an assassination attempt. What else could it be? She certainly looks angry enough to kill someone. If she was the one who sent out that image from Tokyo, I suppose she'd have reason, too. Why us, though? Is it just because we're the closest Americans to Japan other than that Sansei girl in Honolulu?
"What is God's name…" Linda's voice cut off as she came to a stop in the foyer. The girl must have sensed the energy of teleportation and come running.
Bless you, Linda!
"Linda, RUN! Fly to Annabeth and let everyone know the Axis are sending assassins now!"
Her blonde friend bolted away before the words were finished. She could see the eyes of the telepath look torn as they darted between Jessica and the departing girl. It was already too late to catch swift Linda, though. The sound of shattering glass was already fading. Her friend had doubtless caught the urgency and took flight from the nearest window.
She felt energies building in her arms and knew she didn't have time to think or speak before the Jap's German-looking ally vanished. She tilted her weapon's barrel ever so slightly and fired into the girl's neck with enough energy to shatter the cervical vertebrae and break the brain stem, but not enough to sever the head clean off.
Despite the blood splattering onto her own clothes and those of the girl in her arms, she maintained her hold on the now limp body, though she shifted to use the shoulders now rather than the neck for support. Her hand remained firmly gripped on her hostage's soul gem as a check on any heroics from anyone else. For her part the girl's energies were no longer a threat, focused as they were by reflex on fleeing the body and repairing the damage.
"Don't hurt him or I'll finish the job on this one!" she called out to the dark-haired Jap, now wide-eyed. "Your friend will come back, that man won't. If he dies, I'll make sure this one dies and I swear you'll follow right after!"
Jessica watched as the other girl's grip on her grandfather's larynx loosened just enough for him to breathe again – evidence, Jessica noted, that the girl in her arms was an effective bargaining chip after all. She hadn't been sure of that until now. She caught her grandfather's eye and, while he was clearly anxious, he wasn't scared. Jessica could even see a slight smile curl the man's lips, out of view of his assailant.
Okay, he knows not to do anything stupid. He's seen me idly lift a Buick without help and hold it there while we talked shop for hours while he tinkered with his car. No heroics from the old soldier, thank God.
She felt the shields she'd placed on her mind being probed and did all she could think of to shore them up. Her soul gem had been pristine when the intruders appeared, so she had ample energies to draw from. The teleporter would have to be completely drained once she finished regenerating, and the Jap girl didn't look fresh at all.
I guess I may as well take the initiative. We'll be here all day if I keep waiting for her to say something.
"I hope you speak English," she started, then switched to her other fluent tongue, "or Cantonese," she switched back to English, "'cause there's no way I'm opening my mind to you and it looks like we have some things to discuss."
This girl'd be an awful poker player, Jessica thought as she watched the other girl's expressions shift below her gem. Who the hell needs telepathy when your thoughts pass right over your face?
Based on her reactions, she knew the girl spoke at least some English and Cantonese…or possibly Mandarin. English was the best bet, though, since she had clearly understood most if not all she had heard and most of it had been in English.
Something feels wrong about this. I'd like to know what's motivating her before this goes on much longer. I really don't think this girl has ever killed someone. Not that I have either…
"Were you the one who broadcast the images in Tokyo tonight? Are you the Tokyo girl or was that another one you were in contact with?"
The girl seemed surprised. "You felt that image? I…I can't usually broadcast that far if I don't know someone."
The words and expression indicated it really hadn't been intentional. The would-be assassin's earlier determination already seemed to be devolving into uncertainty, even confusion, if her eyes continued to be any indication. All these signals nagged at Jessica, although the implications of the girl's statement suddenly hit her and she felt cold again.
"Well, I don't think we've met unless you helped invade China in 1937. I swear if you were there," Jessica's expression hardened , "there is no way in Hell you will ever leave this place alive."
The Japanese girl's eye's widened into saucers. "You were in China during the invasion?"
That cinches it. She knows what that would mean if I were there. Why would a girl her age know about the Army atrocities given all the propaganda about their benevolent 'Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere' I know they're being fed? I don't like where this is going. Was she some officer's brat, brought along to enjoy the scenery? Maybe take in the celebratory mood as her people raped and looted their way down the Yangtze?
Jessica's eyes narrowed as she honed in on her fears, all her previous thoughts…and potential sympathies for the girl holding her grandfather by the throat…falling by the wayside. "I was in Nanking, packed in along with ten thousand other women and children in a Christian school as the bravest woman I ever knew placed herself between that band of thugs you call an Army and my people with nothing but an American flag as shield. It didn't stop the soldiers from taking some of us, including some of my friends. Your Army didn't seem to care much for international conventions…or human decency."
The other girl's deep blue eyes seem troubled, but she responded in kind as she retorted defensively. "And what of you, demon girl? Dropping bombs on hospitals? Schools? Burning a city filled with children to the ground. You and your grandfather," the girl's grip tightened again, "have brought Hell raining down on Japan. Magical girls are supposed to bring hope. Your wish is a travesty and I intend to put an end to it!"
She knows my wish? Damn. She also knows he's my grandfather. So much for trying to cut him loose as an innocent bystander. Where did she learn all this?
"Loosen your grip on his throat," Jessica warned, calmly but menacingly as she fingered the cloak clasp in her grip, "or this girl will never finish regenerating."
The girl's grip loosened again. An almost apologetic look passed her face, making it clear the grip had been emotion and, again, not intentional.
"So, I ask again," Jessica repeated forcefully, needing to know the answer before she could negotiate any further. "Were you in Nanking?"
"I've never been to China," the dark haired girl admitted. "I've talked with Chinese magical girls. Not much, but a little. They don't like me very much." She seemed most saddened by the last admission.
The girl's basic nature seemed compassionate and her apparent concern for what others thought about her struck her as unfeigned. Still, Jessica wasn't about to let her off the hook yet. "I can't imagine why not!" She wasn't certain the girl would understand the sarcasm, but from the girl's expression it appeared that she did. Her next question cinched it.
"Was the school you hid within called Ginling?"
Jessica's eyes widened, stunned, and she nodded as the girl continued her thought.
"The girl in China who spoke most with me…maybe it's better to say spoke AT me since I was allowed to say very little…shared with me her experience in Nanking. She hid there too, and mentioned the woman you venerate. Her name is Chow Yi. She's a flier now, like you."
Jessica's brow furrowed in concentration as she thought back. The name didn't ring any bells, but then again she had seen so many people and slept so little as she had helped Minnie tend to the sick and injured. Although…
"There was a group of younger girls who caught me in my transformed state…before I finally fled. It could have been one of them." Jessica shrugged. "Small world I suppose." She then noted the body in her arms was twitching, a sign nerves were reattaching and the return of consciousness – and potential threat – was imminent."
"So, where do we go from here? We have each other by the short hairs, as the guys around here like to say. If I'm right about who this teleporter is, though, I'm going to win no matter what happens here. Am I right? Is this that Strauss diplomat girl from Switzerland that has the European girls tied in knots rather than just finishing off the Nazi girls?"
"Birgit says none of the remaining German girls committed atrocities. They're all just victims of your bombs."
"Is that so?" Jessica allowed her derision to show. Given she was the intended victim of an assassination attempt by these girls; she had her suspicions where Strauss' loyalties might lie. She certainly looked German enough. "Not what I hear. I may be tucked away in Seattle, but I get some good intel. You see, we have these things called telephones since we didn't blow our infrastructure to Hell like the Europeans did. I don't know how the New York girls manage to connect so well to London and Paris, but they do and I have a few contacts. Have you been to Europe to check things out for yourself?"
"Um, no…." she admitted, uncertainly.
"You might think about doing so…assuming you leave here alive. So, what's your next move, Jap girl?"
"You really do hate me, don't you?" There was no doubt in Jessica that the question was the heartfelt inquiry it appeared. For some insane reason, Jessica's opinion of the girl actually mattered to her, never mind what she had come here to do. The juxtaposition of the girl's emotional vulnerability combined with the very dangerous hand still grasping her grandfather's throat was surreal.
Jessica looked across the brightly lit room into the eyes of the girl holding her grandfather's neck, weighing her answer. "Maybe not you, but I hate your people for what they did to both of mine. First China, then that cowards attack on Hawaii. A lot of people have died because of Japan's hubris."
"And what of American racism, holding Japan back? We're equal to any western power, but we were never afforded the status." The girl clearly knew her stuff and seemed intent now on winning with logic the 'who started it' game.
And it wasn't a completely impossible task, Jessica had to admit. She winced at the accusation of American racism. As a 'half breed' between an English-ancestry father and a Chinese-ancestry mother, both born on American soil but never seen as equal to each other, she knew quite a bit about that. Her mother had told her the stories handed down by her own grandmother of the working conditions of Chinese rail laborers a hundred years ago. How many Chinese bodies littered the rocky foundations of the railroads of the west?
She bit off her first glib reply about America not being an imperial power. The surprisingly well educated Jap likely would respond with Hawaii and The Philippines, not to mention the actions of America's British allies in Asia. The Chinese within her still smarted over the Opium War.
"You know my name, don't you?" Jessica asked by way of changing the subject. "You seem to have me at a disadvantage."
The girl across from her blinked at the surprise inquiry. "Um, my name is Fuchida Tomiko."
Jessica chuckled as the ridiculous circumstance just compounded. "Fuchida and Fletcher. What irony." She felt conscious movement from the girl in her arms and she reasserted her neck lock and her pistol barrel into the girl's head. "Good morning, Miss Strauss. Nice of you to join us again."
She felt the blonde clear her throat and swallow what was likely remaining gore from Jessica's one shot so far.
"What have I missed?" The Swiss girl asked evenly when she had her voice back.
"Oh, not much," Jessica answered good naturedly despite her gun nestled firmly against the back of the girl's neck. "Fuchida and I were just becoming great friends, passing back and forth stories of why we hate each other's guts and would love to smear the hardwood floors below us with the blood of our captives."
"Oh."
"And by the way," she added much more seriously, "if I detect even a slight twinge of magic, I'll blow your head clean off this time. I doubt you have enough power left to recover from that. You'll either die from drained magic or accept being trapped inside your gem. I'm sure you'd make a fine mantle-piece."
"If you hurt her," protested Tomiko and her grip once again tightened again, this time on purpose, "I kill your grandfather." There was no doubt now that the blonde meant a great deal to the Japanese girl.
Jessica shrugged. "If Swiss Miss here does a vanishing act, you'll kill him anyway. And then I'll have to deal with both of you with no bargaining chips. I'm not as poor a poker player as you are, Fuchida."
"So, we're still at a standoff," Birgit stated carefully, ever the diplomat. "What next?"
"Strange question from the girl who invaded MY house. You know, I could just wait it out. I'm pretty sure my magic will last longer than Fuchida's there. I know you have nothing left. Eventually Linda will come back with a posse and wrap things up."
"So, Fletcher-san," responded Tomiko again, trying to appear menacing and falling a little short. "I should kill your grandfather, accept Birgit's death, and then wring the life out of you before you can fly away?"
"That's one solution, although I don't think you have the guts to sacrifice your friend or you'd have done it already." The Japanese girl's expression confirmed she was right. "How about this one? I'm guessing who you really want is me. Let my grandfather go. I'll let Miss Strauss here go and she can try and intercept Linda with whatever remaining power she has. Then you and I can duke it out. Maybe you'll both get lucky."
Tomiko looked thoughtful for a moment. "You're a flier and you have ranged weapons."
Jessica grinned, consciously displaying her distinctive canines as she let bravado infuse her next words. "Yeah, I do, don't I? You shoulda thought about that before you blinked here trying to kill me. You didn't think it through very well, did you?"
"Your planes burning down my city was a little bit distracting, yes." The glare now from the girl, while intense, wasn't the hateful look Jessica had seen in her eyes when the standoff began.
"There's another option, you know," she offered, hoping maybe the option might be taken seriously. While she wasn't thrilled with the prospect of the teleporter being loose, she really had no desire for the blood of these girls on her hands either. At least not here and now. She also wanted to see her grandfather safe. "You could go back home. I'll let you. The story of Strauss' collusion will get out and I'll make sure in the end this farce of hers goes nowhere. Maybe then the French will stop dithering with the Germans. If they don't get off their butts and move, the Russians will just think the French have joined the British in hating them. One thing the Russians are good about is paranoia. Well, that and shock troops. Are you ready to fight the Red Army, Fuchida?"
"What?" Tomiko was clearly clueless as she failed to follow much of Jessica's rapid stream of words.
"You tell her, Miss Strauss. You know what I'm talking about, I'm sure."
Birgit swallowed again, clearly not happy being put on the spot here. "She's talking about the invasion of Japan."
"But the Americans…"
"We're not stupid, Fuchida," Jessica inserted, getting impatient with the Swiss girl's explanation. "I'm pretty sure you'll have the Russians from the north and the Yankees from the south. Japan's sure to be cut in half if your Emperor won't wise up and surrender unconditionally to us."
Tomiko looked uncertain before speaking again. "He's trying."
"Oh really? He'd better hurry. Either that or your next language will be Russian."
"Miss Fletcher, what do you really want?" Birgit again trying to clarify the situation like a good diplomat.
"Me?" she said, directing her answer toward Tomiko despite the question coming from Birgit. "I want Japan off the Asian continent. I want them cowed. I want every Japanese soldier abroad, or who served abroad, to be lined up and executed. I want Japan's defeat to be so total that they won't be a threat for generations. After that, honestly I really don't care. I'll have better places to go then." Jessica motioned up with her head. "I want to find out where the wish-granters come from, to meet them on equal terms."
"Every Japanese soldier?" Tomiko asked. "Fletcher-san, I'm betrothed to a soldier fighting Americans in the Pacific. He didn't go until three years ago and has done nothing wrong."
Jessica felt her own eyes go up in surprise for one of the first times since the new girls had popped in. "Marriage? Seriously? And you're going through with it even after…" Jessica let the incredulous words trail off and she motioned her head to indicate Birgit's unconventional mode of dress.
Jessica had expected perhaps anything, but not flaming blushing. She quickly picked up that her would-be assassin had misunderstood what she was indicating. "Wait, are you two…"
Jessica could feel her captive swallow hard and she saw Tomiko look away even as she spoke a half-hearted, "Um, it's not like that."
Oh this keeps getting better. This has got to be the most ridiculous assassination attempt in history. Neither of us really wants to hate the other, but yet here we are because of the war around us. She has Grandpa in a death lock and I have a gun to her girlfriend's head. One spasm, unconscious even, by either of us and the whole dynamic changes.
"Fuchida, how about you? What do you want?" She paused just a moment before adding. "Other than my head on a plate, of course. With a side of my grandfather's liver." The situation was now so surreal she found herself winking at her grandfather. If they were going to die, they may as well do it while wringing all the humor they could from it.
Jessica's action clearly flummoxed the Japanese girl and derailed her thoughts for a moment before she could answer. "I want what Yumiko-chan wanted," she finally answered softly.
"Yumiko?"
"You mentioned this Minnie in Nanking was the bravest person you've ever met," Tomiko explained in a more firm voice. "My friend Yumiko-chan, the girl who was living the image I sent earlier, was that for me. Her magic was barriers and she was using her barriers to protect a whole district in Tokyo from your planes."
"Wow," the flier's eyebrows raised in reaction to the news, "impressive. No wonder she flamed out. Brave, but stupid."
The girl across the room from her scowled. "Any more than a woman standing down the Japanese army all by herself?"
"Touche," Jessica shrugged.
"If I wished today, I'd make the same one Yumiko-chan did," Tomiko shared, her expression softening considerably.
"And that was?"
"Her wish was a quick end to the war and a generation of peace and prosperity for Japan."
For the first time since Nanking, Jessica felt at least a little ashamed of her own wish and the hatred that underlay it. Now that is a worthy wish, and it came from a Jap. Maybe grandpa was right. Still, sadly, look where it got her…and for now we're still at war.
"Noble goals, Miss Fuchida," she responded aloud. "The devil will be in bridging the gap between here and now with armies facing each other, and that future."
"And where is the devil now, Fletcher-san?" Tomiko challenged.
Jessica side-stepped the difficult question and the associated implications. "If I know Linda, she's stopping in Portland to call some people up. She's clever that way. Strauss, do you think you can still catch up with her?"
The Swiss girl nodded carefully, her movements still very limited by Jessica's hold on her.
"Well, you're out of time, Miss Fuchida. Do we let my grandfather go and give your girlfriend a chance to save her corrupt legacy?"
"What's to stop me killing him once I kill you?"
"Well, first off there's the killing me part. I don't think you can do it, even together given how drained she is," Jessica motioned to her captive with her head. "Second, let's just say I'll trust your word. Probably foolish of me, but while I don't trust Swiss Miss here given her cavalier attitude about neutrality, I want to trust you. Anyway, I'm not too worried like I said."
Jessica watched glances between the two girls. She had no doubt the two were having a heated telepathic discussion from the turbulent expression on Tomiko's face as well as the tenseness she felt in Birgit's body. Still, with a not-so-subtle reminder to the Swiss girl not to make any sudden movements with a gun to her head and a firm hand gripping her soul, she had the luxury of patience.
"Okay, we'll do it your way, Fletcher-san," Tomiko shared after perhaps a minute, for some reason clearly not happy at all with the decision.
"Your word?"
The Japanese girl nodded dispiritedly. "You have my word, Fletcher-san."
"And you, Miss Strauss?"
"I thought you said you didn't trust me?" the blonde replied, surprisingly snide. It was almost as if she felt she had little to lose despite there still being a gun to her head. Jessica had a sick feeling she knew why the Swiss girl felt so direct, but she couldn't back down now. Not when she was so close to freeing her endangered grandfather.
"I don't, really," Jessica admitted in all honesty. "That doesn't mean I don't want you to give me your word in front of your girlfriend here."
"She's not my girlfriend," Birgit protested, unconvincingly as far as her captor was concerned.
"Yeah, whatever," Jessica said dismissively. "Do I have your word?"
"Yes."
"Yes what?" she pressed the teleporter.
"Yes, I won't hurt your grandfather, Miss Fletcher, or interfere with your fight with Tomiko."
"Good girl," Jessica said and backed away quickly from Birgit to stand in front of the picture window that filled much of one wall of the room.
From the new perspective she finally got a view of the emblem seamlessly woven into the back of the girl's cloak, and identified it as doubtless being a Phoenix, proudly resplendent in striking blues, purples and reds. The severe indigo-hued eye of the great bird seemed to bore into her as if alive and she found herself unconsciously stroking the crest of her own vibrant Dragon for reassurance with her free hand.
"Go on," she said. She tamped down her worries about what this trip might mean for the exhausted teleporter, and the disturbing feelings the Phoenix inspired in her. Acting nonchalant, she motioned to nowhere in particular with her pistol barrel.
Birgit looked one last time at Tomiko, her face hidden from Jessica's view. Tomiko's face was also hidden, curiously buried as it now was in her grandfather's shoulder. She's miserable, Jessica recognised. The American could then felt the Swiss girl martial what scraps of magic she had remaining and blink out.
"Does she even have enough to make it to Portland, much less put up a fight?" Jessica asked into the now empty space, allowing her anxieties voice now that the teleporter was gone.
Tomiko, her face and posture betraying her fears as she was no longer obscured by her grandfather's body, looked away. She released the man as promised and backed away a few meters. Jessica now couldn't miss the proud Qilin running its powerful body up the small girl's left flank to its head adorning the girl's chest, just as Jessica's own Dragon overlaid her heart.
Dragon, Phoenix, and Qilin. The mythological trinity of China, of the whole world if you consider Qilin a unicorn. I have no idea what this means for the three of us, but in a world where wishes are possible I must think it means something. But what?
Qilin is the most gentle of the three, a vegetarian that can't even harm the grass as he walks across a field. Only in the pursuit of justice will his fierceness show, and in such times his power is unparalleled. If she's Qilin to my Dragon, I can only hope she no longer sees my destruction as justice.
She watched as the aquamarine-clad girl shifted into the foyer enough to give her freed hostage a clear exit through the main door of the house, as well as the option of some private time with his granddaughter.
"You gonna be okay, china doll?" It was the first words he had spoken since the two new girls had popped into his living room.
Jessica shrugged, doing her best to appear unworried about her own prospects despite this newest revelation. "Anything can happen when magical girls fight, grandpa. If I lose, you have my ideas of how to reverse engineer the V-2 and make it bigger. A lot bigger."
"We will reach the moon, I promise."
"Then get outta here, grandpa," she said, indicating the front of the house with her head. She tried to exude confidence she no longer quite felt in order to reassure the man she wanted well away from whatever was to happen next. "You're crimping my style now."
"Scamp," Edward said with a mock scowl.
"You know it!" Jessica retorted with a smirk.
Grandpa Fletcher turned toward the door but stopped his movement before he passed by Tomiko, who stood unmoving in the foyer looking increasingly miserable. "Fuchida-san, may I ask where your father is right now?"
Tomiko was roused from her reverie as she lifted her face to look at the big man with tears streaming down her cheeks. She sniffed as she answered. "Last my mother heard he is still in Berlin, one of the last staff at the Japanese Embassy. My mother is in Switzerland worried sick, but there's not much we can do but wait."
"I see. He sounds like a good and brave man. You must miss him."
Tomiko just nodded.
"Can I give you a hug?"
"Um, excuse me?" the Japanese girl asked, clearly startled and not sure she understood his words.
"It's an American custom of affection," he explained calmly, "such as between a father and his daughter."
"I know what a hug is," she protested. Still, the queer conversation had seemed to redirect the black-haired girl's thoughts. "You do realize I can kill you with one finger?" She held up a digit as if to help demonstrate the point.
"You could, I don't doubt it. But you didn't," the old man explained, logically. He looked down at her chest briefly before raising his eyes again to meet hers. "I don't think you could harm someone in cold blood, Fuchida-san. You just look like you could use a hug and I have one to give."
"I'm about to kill your granddaughter, Fletcher-sama," Tomiko said, her determination apparently rekindling.
"Not if she has anything to say about it," he responded shaking his head, his confidence in his relation clearly unshaken. In that moment, Jessica resolved again to survive this crazy scenario, if only to talk again with her grandfather and discover what he was thinking in that moment."But again that doesn't change the fact that right in this moment I would like to give you a hug."
Not for the first time since she had appeared literally out of nowhere in this house, Tomiko was reduced to simply nodding.
Jessica watched as her grandfather did just as he had proposed, giving the diminutive Japanese girl a gentle embrace rather than one of his trademark 'bear hugs'. It was clear she was uncomfortable with the display of affection, no doubt compounded by the bizarre circumstances, but she handled herself gracefully.
"I really do hope your parents make it back home safely after this madness is over," he said as he stood back. "Same for your betrothed. If things were different, he'd be a very lucky man."
"Thank you, sir."
Almost as an afterthought, Grandpa Fletcher reached up and gently tussled Tomiko's hair, much as he had done with his granddaughter just prior to the day's interruption. He then made his way thoughtfully out the door with one last 'I love you' mouthed to his precious china doll.
The significant look he gave her, tied as it was with a purposeful glance at the small and, at that moment, seemingly already defeated Japanese girl, said much more than any words ever could have. It was a reminder of not only his own recent words regarding the Bible and forgiveness, but also a reminder of the conversation just past. He'd heard it all, much more than he'd ever heard before, and was trying to remind her that there were two sides to any conflict, and that it was just possible that neither side was necessarily in the wrong…nor wholly pure. Jessica replied to him with a short nod of understanding.
"You have one very strange grandfather," Tomiko admitted, staring after the man who had just left. "I had envisioned someone more…threatening...as the one who designed the bomber planes."
Jessica shook her head vociferously in protest at Tomiko's characterization. "Oh, you haven't stayed out past curfew with that man standing at the door waiting when I came back. My dating life was a living hell, even being a magical girl. He didn't care…not that I had many boyfriends anyway."
"Being a magical girl does make that difficult," Tomiko agreed absently, her mind clearly elsewhere.
"So does a war," Jessica noted before adding, "I'm sorry about Birgit, Tomiko." Jessica paused a moment after uttering her nominal foe's given name for the first time, trying to craft her next words and deciding to just come out and say it. "She didn't come out of the teleport did she?"
Like a dam bursting, the tears Jessica sensed that Tomiko had been holding back ever since Birgit decided to teleport away came to the surface in a torrent. Her heart certain this was no ploy even if her mind had doubts, Jessica rushed over and pulled the girl into an embrace of her own, easing the both of them slowly over the space to the living room sofa and bringing herself down on her back with Tomiko atop her, held to her chest in what she hoped was a reassuring cuddle.
***PGBR***
"I'm sorry," The Japanese girl said somewhat later, still sniffing back tears. "I make a pretty pathetic adversary."
"Um, kinda."
"You haven't met my naginata yet," the Japanese girl challenged, trying unconvincingly to look menacing as she glared up with puffy, reddened eyes from where her head was resting on Jessica's now damp chest. Her Dragon didn't seem to mind the treatment.
"There'll be time."
"To answer your question," Tomiko continued as she relaxed back against the girl she had come here to kill, "yes, Birgit came out of teleport but I can't reach her. It's like she's there but not there. It's strange. I've never sensed someone like this before."
"You're sure she's not dead?"
The question made Tomiko tense, which had the odd result of tightening her grip on Jessica's torso. "I've died with someone, Jessica-san. I know what dead is," she stated firmly.
"Oh. Well, um, could you find her if we went looking?"
Tomiko's body relaxed again, but her face took on an annoyed expression as she looked back up into Jessica's shimmering eyes. "Are you crazy? We came here to kill you."
"Well I'm not dead yet," Jessica rationalized for both of them at the reasonable question. "And as I keep saying, there's still time for that. I'm not running away, so your time to die will come soon enough."
"You mean your time to die."
"Yeah, whatever," she dismissed again. "Not having a clue how her teleportation works, I'm assuming she must have come out somewhere between here and Portland. Linda's a peregrine flier - swift and light. She can't carry much. I, however, can carry you no problem." Jessica motioned for Tomiko to stand so that she herself could rise. "Shall we go?"
Author's Note
The Qilin (Kirin in Japanese) is often referred to as the oriental unicorn, although my dearly appreciated beta vociferously protests the two being connected by more than vague appearance similarities. It is widely noted that the unicorn, phoenix, and dragon make up a trio (or trinity) of mythical creatures that are found in cultures throughout the world. In many of those cultures, including China, there are legendary stories that characterize the interconnected relationships between the three. While I do not draw from any particular story, and in fact I mix cultural references given each of the three girls has a different perspective on these wondrous creatures, I hope I have embodied the spirit of each in the girls whom they have graced in my mini-series during the madness which enveloped the world in the middle of the twentieth century.
Historical Footnote
Second World War, Chinese Theater
The Rape of Nanking (Wade-Giles form)/Nanjing (Pin-Yin form)
During the first half of the twentieth century, the Empire of Japan occupied or annexed increasing amounts of territory on the Asian continent. Beginning in 1905 with the occupation of Korea, later annexed in 1910, and eventually followed with the occupation of Chinese Manchuria (Manshū-koku in Japanese) starting in 1931. On July 7, 1937, full-scale war erupted between China and Japan, the Sino-Japanese War, over the Marco Polo Bridge incident. Responding to Nationalist attacks to their marines in Shanghai, the Japanese proceeded to conduct a bloody invasion of the city beginning in August and lasting into November, 1937. Casualties among both sides were very high, and when the Japanese succeeded in holding the city they were left with the decision of what to do next. Many expected they'd stay there, at least for a while and consolidate the victory. Instead, almost immediately on Nov 11, the Imperial Japanese forces began a 400 km march toward the Chinese capitol, Nanking. Still, it was only on Dec 1, 1937 that the order to invade Nanking was given from Tokyo and the threats and counter-threats, and the evacuations, began.
What followed was one of the great slaughters of human history, disputed only by the most ardent of Japanese right-wing nationalists. Over six weeks somewhere between 250,000 and 300,000 civilians were annihilated, generally in the most depraved manner. What I describe from Jessica's point of view glosses over the true magnitude of what happened. A review of the photographs in the Wiki for "Nanking Massacre", one of which graphically illustrates the reference to "women killed through the very opening the men pleasured themselves with," will get the point across far better than my meager writing skills can.
In the words of one eye witness, "There probably is no crime that has not been committed in this city today. Thirty girls were taken from language school last night, and today I have heard scores of heartbreaking stories of girls who were taken from their homes last night—one of the girls was but 12 years old. Food, bedding and money have been taken from people. … I suspect every house in the city has been opened, again and yet again, and robbed. Tonight a truck passed in which there were eight or ten girls, and as it passed they called out "Jiu ming! Jiu ming!"—save our lives. The occasional shots that we hear out on the hills, or on the street, make us realize the sad fate of some man—very probably not a soldier"
Minnie Vautrin, the "American Goddess at Nanking" and the author of the above recounting, was a real woman. Her creation, Ginling Girl's College, was also quite real. The events I described which happened there were real, with the single exception of the addition of one Chinese-American and newly contracted Puella Magi. Minnie did protect thousands of defenseless women and children armed only with the Stars and Stripes; she did write in her journal at one point that she wanted to smite the Japanese Army ("In my wrath, I wished I had the power to smite them for their dastardly work. How ashamed women of Japan would be if they knew these tales of horror"), and she sadly did indeed commit suicide on May 14, 1941 despondent over having failed to save everyone. Jessica isn't the only one who worships this woman and her actions. She has been one of my personal heroes since I first discovered her story as a teenager.
Between the Rape of Nanjing and the indiscriminate firebombing of Tokyo by Operation Meetinghouse, both of them carrying innocent civilian death counts in the six figures, is it any wonder the Kirin and the Dragon are coming up empty as they try to find justice for the terrible events happening around them?