It was done, and Akane waited for the other shoe to drop—for regret, guilt, or even base satisfaction to pour like sticky sap through her body. But all she felt was a curious gladness. That it was over. But also because she had done what, deep down, she had really wanted to do. She was a Public Safety Bureau officer and she had just ordered three men to die without a trial. Oh, she was within the letter of the law, if not its spirit. And probably the young Akane Tsunemori, even the version of her from just a year or two ago, would gaze at this cold-eyed new Akane Tsunemori with horror or disgust, much as she had gazed upon Masaoka and Kagari and even Kogami on that dim day in the rain so many nights ago. But she was okay with that. Kogami's wounds had been avenged, and right now that was more important than anything else.

The Dominator was still warm in her hands, as it usually was when the energies captured inside it were allowed to escape for a little while. In Destroy-Decomposer mode, the thunderous flesh-devouring rounds could sometimes frighten, but Akane had long since grown used to them. She'd taken down dozens of perps with Decomposers by now. It was old hat, and she didn't even flinch when pulling the trigger anymore.

They deserved it, Akane thought, and swallowed some of the saliva pooling on the inside of her cheek. She took a deep and heartfelt breath and slowly, as if the act were against her better judgment, lowered the weapon. The tip of the Dominator hesitated as she aimed it at the floor. Then she slid it into its holster, and it was like a weight being lifted off her chest.

What remained of Lor Sam Pau and his cronies lay splattered over half of the Neosalanx's kitschy lounge area. She could no longer distinguish where the crime lord ended and where his men began—it was a red paste of flattened humanity, like an explosion in a tomato sauce factory. Chunks of jellied fat and bloody gristle and powdery white bone had been tossed over the faded upholstery of the nightclub's high-backed chairs, as if handfuls of flour and pomegranate juice had been spilled everywhere. The smell was horrific—it always was—but Akane could only detect ozone, the aftermath of the Dominators' work.

Akane looked over at the big Enforcer, Isao Egusa, who was taking long drags of a stubby cigarette, and slowly shook her head. She had expected trouble after reading his name on the squad list, but he'd been just the right tool for the job. She wasn't sure whether that spoke well of him or poorly of her.

The other Enforcers were gathered outside the nightclub, where a small crowd of curious locals had assembled. Most, Akane supposed, had come to see the spectacularly unusual sight of policemen loitering around Lor Sam Pau's club. Her men handled crowd control, which wasn't proving too difficult, as they wore fearsome tactical gear and active-camo; a few appeared to vanish and rematerialize out of patterns on the walls of the rusty warehouses. A few feet away from Arishima, and near the doorway so as to avoid contact with human remains as much as possible, stood Nami Chisaka, a greenish tinge to her cheeks. The girl had locked her eyes upon one of the blobs of flesh and did not seem capable of looking away. In fact, she looked as if she might throw up at any moment.

Akane took a few discreet steps away from the girl. "How is Kogami?" she asked.

Chisaka swallowed, and managed to tear her eyes away from the red stain that had been Lor Sam Pau. "The medkit has stabilized Mr Kogami. He's in the chopper. Pulse and respiration are within safe limits." She paused. "For now, anyway. He lost a lot of blood."

Akane nodded. "Good. I know Kogami—he'll live. There's been a change of plans. I'll be returning to Nona Tower alone, right now, without the rest of the squad."

Arishima looked at her, his eyes narrowing. "I didn't receive those orders."

"You just did," Akane said sweetly, and, picking up her assault rifle, she nodded toward the nightclub's deserted entrance. "Chopper 2 will return the other strike teams to headquarters. Inform the local Akita authorities that there was a minor disturbance here and that we've taken Lor Sam Pau into custody. By the time anybody investigates his whereabouts, the cleaners will have scraped him off the floor." She looked over the red mess and wrinkled her nose. She thought that she could see an intact eyeball under one of the gaming tables. It seemed to be staring at her. "Get a clean-up team in here soon, Inspector."

"You'll have to find somebody else to carry out those orders."

Halfway to the exit, Akane looked back. "What did you say?"

"I can't carry out those orders, ma'am."

"I've been given command of this operation, Inspector Arishima," Akane said, facing him. "The Sibyl System itself gave me that authority."

"I am aware of your seniority, ma'am." Arishima seemed to be relishing his ability to contradict her. "However, my orders state that I am to accompany the fugitive Shinya Kogami until he is safely brought back to the Sibyl Sphere."

Akane's retort died on her lips. She stared at Arishima with a slight frown. He's been inside the Sphere? I thought I was the only one Sibyl trusted with that knowledge. A rookie fresh out of the Academy would have no business knowing of the Sibyl Sphere, let alone being in direct communication with the brains comprising the System. There was more to Itaru Arishima than met the eye, that was for sure.

"Very well," Akane said. "But Kogami's still losing blood. We're leaving now." Her tone brooked no argument.

Arishima gave her a very slight bow.

Tamping down on the flash of anger that threatened to escalate the tension already crackling between them, Akane turned and led the way back up the stairs. The C-22 was still waiting on the Neosalanx's roof, perched there like an impatient gargoyle. At her signal, the pilots lowered the ramp, and Akane and Arishima dashed across an immaculate racquetball court to the waiting aircraft. They climbed aboard and within seconds were gaining altitude, Akita expanding beneath them as if it were a 3D map being zoomed out on a holo-screen. By the time they reached cruising altitude, the freighters in the harbor were nothing more than blotchy specks far below, rusty nails lying in a pail of brackish water.

Now we'll see if Choe Gu-sung is all he's cracked up to be, Akane thought. She didn't want to contemplate what might happen if he wasn't.

"I thought you might be here."

The voice made every muscle in Makishima's body clench, coming as it did in the one place in the Sibyl System where he thought he had true solitude. No one should know about this place, he thought in irritation, even as curiosity rose in him like a small terrier, lifting its nose to sniff at the air. The only person in the world who could know about it—Choe Gu-sung—was dead. Makishima raised his head a fraction of a centimeter and looked at the doorway, expecting to see Hiroki Masuda. Perhaps the hacker was more capable than he'd expected.

But it wasn't Masuda, and Makishima's mouth actually fell open in surprise. It was Kagari, in the digital flesh, with the same annoying grin that Makishima had learned to hate so much. The man's self-image was different this time, however. Rather than skinny jeans and a half-buttoned dress shirt accessorized with a gaudy red tie, the ex-Enforcer wore a sharp business suit. It looked as out of place on him as a Hawaiian shirt would look on Makishima.

"Who told you about this place?" Makishima demanded. Then his eyes narrowed. "No, answer this first: how did you get here? Masuda told me that all ways in or out of the System had been closed."

"It's good to see you too," Kagari said, and ignored Makishima's questions. Instead he took a few steps around the small apartment, his eyes studying the dirty linoleum, rusted electric hob, and ancient rice cooker. Outside of the kitchenette, little else was better. The living space was scarcely larger than an average Tokyo bathroom, and contained only a 2046 Sony holographic television—one of the big old ones, from before the development of graphene transistors—and a sorry-looking green couch, the cushions sagging in the middle. "Nice place. Cozy, you know?"

The look in Makishima's eyes was not one that Kagari seemed to like. The Enforcer coughed and quickly lowered his eyes. He took another slow circuit of the apartment, though he refrained from approaching the kitchenette, as if he were afraid that Makishima would strike him with a frying pan or slice him with one of the knives sticking out of the block.

"How did I get here?" Kagari shrugged. "I used a program that Choe wrote me. Well, Choe's AI." He shook his head and looked at Makishima. "They're almost the same, aren't they? I mean, the real Gu-sung was pretty close to a computer anyway."

"How did you know about this place?"

Kagari lowered himself to the green couch. His expression turned to one of vague alarm when he kept falling into it. He finally pried himself free and settled for a perch on the armrest. "Your childhood home? That was Kogami. He figured it out. Which surprised Shion, I'll tell you. She had a good chunk of our Division's computer analysis time devoted to running psychological profiles on you, attempting to cross-reference your crimes to your experiences. But nobody could ever figure out where you lived."

"But Shinya Kogami did."

Kagari squinted at him. "Right. Does that bother you? I know you two have a, uh, connection."

Does it bother me that I keep losing to Kogami, that he keeps proving himself superior to me, that ever since I encountered him my plans, my hopes, my ambitions and my desires keep leading to nothing? Makishima closed his eyes tightly and bit down on the inside of his cheek. When he opened them, a shock of blond hair had fallen over one eye, but he seemed to have greater control of himself. "No," he finally said, and came round the kitchenette counter to join Kagari in the living space. He plopped down on the sofa with a sigh and stared out of the one grimy window, a three-foot square pane of dirty acrylic that overlooked an alleyway. "It doesn't bother me, Shusei."

The ex-Enforcer went silent for a few moments, and when Makishima glanced over at him, he found the man unabashedly studying him. When he saw Makishima looking right back, a quick smile appeared on his face. "Well, I believe you." His words were contradicted by the look on his face. The look said, You're such a liar.

"I grew up in this house," Makishima said, and looked at the peeling yellow wallpaper. It was as if the intervening decades hadn't happened at all—the apartment was precisely as he remembered it. "I used to sit and watch nature documentaries on this very television. Did you know what I wanted to be when I grew up?"

Kagari shifted on the armrest. He crossed his arms and shook his head, looking supremely uncomfortable.

"A wildlife counselor," Makishima said, and let his head fall back onto the sofa. "A specialist who treats animals with emotional disorders."

The other man didn't respond. After a few moments of staring at the ceiling, remembering, Makishima roused himself. There were things to do, after all.

"Why have you come?"

"Akane and Choe wanted me to tell you that the attack will take place in twelve hours. We can't tell you how, in case someone in the Sibyl System can read your thoughts or memories, but that's when it will happen. They want you to be ready."

"I'll be sure to get a good night's sleep."

"Right." Kagari cleared his throat and made as if to stand. "Well, I'd better get back. I'm supposed to help Choe with things."

"You can't go. I need your help."

The ex-Enforcer paused by the doorway. He turned back and frowned. "What?"

It isn't really your apartment. Don't fall into the illusion of memory—none of it is real. Makishima rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. "There have been... complications. I've learned things about Sibyl that require a change of plans. I need your assistance."

"How?"

"I need you to tell Tsunemori to go to Okaba Street, in Tokyo, and investigate the Senguji Industries office there. I can't tell you why, but the attack may need to be delayed."

Kagari made a strangled sound, and when Makishima looked at him, his face was pale. "We can't. That's not an option, Shogo. Listen, I can't tell you any details about what's gone down, but there really isn't any alternative. We rolled the dice and Sibyl knows what's happened. We need to move now."

"Sibyl knows," Makishima repeated, and his mouth twisted as though he had bitten into a lemon. "Oh, I'm sure he does."

Kagari blinked. "Who?"

"Nevermind." Makishima seemed to uncoil himself and stood. He looked dispassionately at Kagari. "If Tsunemori can't do it, find somebody else who can. This needs to be done, Shusei. We don't have a choice. Remember: Okaba Street in Tokyo. Senguji Industries. Check every square foot of their offices and laboratory, check their computer systems, check everything. Then come back and tell me what you've found."

"We only have twelve hours before they're coming," Kagari said dully. "Twelve."

For the first time in a long time, a smile found its way onto Makishima's face. "Then I suppose you'd better hurry."

Clapping the ex-Enforcer on the shoulder, Makishima left the apartment.

When Arishima woke from his nap, he started in on Kogami right away. "He doesn't look so impressive to me." The Inspector's eyes flicked with scorn over Kogami's bloodied features.

Akane, in the middle of conferring with the co-pilot, looked back at the cargo bay. This being the return trip, it was deserted, its dozens of seats sitting empty—Kogami was one of the only passengers, his body lying sprawled across a few of them, beaten and bloodied and mercifully unconscious. Akane's heart ached just to look at him; she wanted to go over and nurse him back to health. But she couldn't. There was much to do, and neither of them could be allowed to rest. That was where Sibyl had the advantage over them—it needed no rest.

Arishima used one arm to support himself as the C-22 bucked amid turbulent air currents, his dismissive gaze fixed upon Kogami's swollen face. "A simple black market dealer like Pau did this to him?" The Inspector clucked his tongue and shook his head. "And I'd heard that Division One was full of tough guys. That'll teach me to listen to rumors."

Akane felt her cheeks grow hot with fury. He's saying that now, but if Kogami were awake he wouldn't dare. One look from Shinya and Arishima would piss himself. She really didn't like the smarmy Inspector. More to the point, though, she couldn't imagine how he had been assigned to her Division. It was true: Division One was full of the Bureau's most ambitious and most capable, and those who were selected for it were usually borderline cases, sure, but productive ones. It took a Masaoka to produce a Ginoza, and Ginoza's statistics had been the highest in the PSB despite his adherence to orthodoxy. And for a Ginoza to flourish, Officer's Handbook and all, it took a Kagari and a Karanomori and a Kunizuka...

And a Kogami, she thought.

"I'll enjoy his execution," Arishima said. "Do you think Sibyl will let me watch?"

"Why don't you go back to sleep, Itaru?" she asked, and turned away. The rookie stared at her for a moment, waiting for a reply, and then shrugged and lowered himself into the seat next to Kogami.

"Are you ready?" Akane whispered.

The laptop, which she'd removed from her tactical kit and hidden beneath her seat, gave a flash of acknowledgement from its screen. Akane glanced at Arishima, saw that he was occupied by the sight of the Japanese countryside passing below them, and bent down to retrieve the laptop's fiber-optic cable. She carried the spool toward the cockpit, where the pilot and co-pilot were immersed in flying the aircraft, and when both seemed occupied by their instruments, Akane connected it to the navigation computer. Instantly the cabin lights flickered, and she gave the co-pilot's back a concerned glance. But nobody remarked upon it.

Now it's Gu-sung's turn. I hope he doesn't take long. Judging from the distant lights on the horizon, Tokyo was less than half an hour away. Once they'd seized control of the aircraft, they would need to move fast—since Makishima's last attack on Sibyl, the Japanese military had stationed dozens of rapid-reaction forces around the capital city, including light aircraft and anti-air missiles. There was no margin for error. They needed to land as soon as possible.

"Do you think Sibyl will approve?"

Akane looked up, trying to wedge herself in front of the fiber-optic cable as best she could. Fortunately for her, Arishima was staring intently at her face. "What?"

Arishima nodded to her Dominator. "I said, do you think Sibyl will approve that you held up the capture of Shinya Kogami simply to set up a radio link with the Tower for something as petty as revenge? Was shooting Pau really that important to you?"

"The Sibyl System has never second-guessed my judgment before," Akane said. "Lor Sam Pau and his men were known criminals with highly elevated Crime Coefficients, and as such it was my responsibility to deal with them." She shrugged. "So I did."

Arishima nodded to Kogami. "But the mission was to capture this man, not settle scores."

"The mission is never about one man," Akane said. "Our goal as law enforcement is to keep society safe, to protect its citizens. We do that using the tools the Sibyl System has given us—in our case, as Bureau officers, the Dominator. You make it sound like an extrajudicial killing."

"What was Pau's Crime Coefficient?" Arishima asked curiously. "Couldn't you have brought him in for therapy?"

Akane tried not to let her irritation show on her face. Is he doing this on purpose, trying to play the good guy? The rookie reminded Akane of herself, that first day on the job, when Masaoka had seemed so gruff and Kogami so frightening. The day that she had shot Kogami in the back, to Kagari's everlasting amusement.

"It was over four-hundred," she said coolly. "Paralyzing him was never a possibility."

"If you say so."

I do, Akane said nastily to herself, and turned back to the cockpit just in time to notice the pilot exchanging hushed words with the co-pilot.

"What is it?" she asked.

The co-pilot glanced back at her. "Well, ma'am, we, uh, seem to be having some issues here."

"Issues?" Akane demanded, as relief flooded through her. "We have Japan's most wanted fugitive in the back of this aircraft and you're telling me you're having issues?"

"Yes, Inspector. Our heading has changed, and we don't know why."

Thank you, Choe. "Where are we headed now?" Akane demanded.

The pilot consulted a hologram of the terrain that surrounded the Osprey. It spun slowly in front of them like a glittering chandelier of laser light. "As near as I can tell, ma'am, somewhere to the north of the city."

"This is unacceptable." This is perfect.

"We are attempting to regain control, ma'am."

"What's happening?" Arishima had noticed the commotion and was coming up the aisle, bracing himself against the seats as the aircraft was thrown around by turbulence. "Is something wrong?"

As if in answer, a loud whine came from outside of the cabin, and a moment later the aircraft began a wide banking turn. Akane braced herself on the cockpit doorway, her fingers resting on the handle of her Dominator. He'll do it any moment now. The sound of the engines grew louder, as if they were picking up speed, a fact that was confirmed a second later by the pilot.

"We're gaining speed. Losing altitude. Nothing I'm trying is working." The pilot turned to his colleague. "Get on the secure line to Tokyo Base 9. Tell them we've got an emergency, that we've lost all control and might have to ditch."

"They're going to ask what's wrong, sir."

"I don't know!" For a moment, the pilot seemed ready to throw up his hands in frustration. "It looks like a software glitch. As far as I can tell, nothing's physically wrong with the plane. It just won't listen to us. All command functions have been locked out."

"Roger."

Arishima came to stand next to Akane in the cockpit doorway, a frown on his face as he scanned the ship's useless controls. "What's wrong?"

The pilot glanced back. "As I told the Senior Inspector, sir, we've lost control of the aircraft. I don't know why. It seems as if a new course has been laid into the navigation computer, but that's impossible. On a mission of this importance, nothing but the Sibyl System itself has that authority."

"Sir," the co-pilot broke in, his face ashen. "I'm not getting anything from Tokyo Base 9. Not even static."

The pilot stared at his high-tech cockpit as if it had betrayed him. The holographic displays and computer-assisted controls were very pretty to look at, but completely useless now that Choe had locked them out. In a way, Akane thought, it was the same thing that Sibyl had done to Japanese society—locked out the controls and changed course. The pilot finally shook his head. "There's nothing for it, then. We'll have to ditch." He looked apologetically back at Akane and Arishima. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I'm sorry, sir. There's nothing I can do."

"Kogami is wounded," Akane protested. She hoped that her acting would be good enough to carry her through this last performance. "There's no way he would survive ditching from aircraft in his condition."

"Call for a pick-up," Arishima ordered the pilot. "We'll need to continue on to the Tower once we land."

"I told you, sir, the radio isn't working. We have no communications. We could plunge into the ground at any second—it's not safe here. We have to leave." Saying so, the pilot unbuckled his seatbelt and went to a storage compartment, where he retrieved four parachutes. "Put these on."

Akane shook her head. "I have a mission to fulfill. I won't leave Kogami. Somebody has to stay with the aircraft to ensure that he doesn't escape again. But there's no need for the rest of you to risk your lives. I'm ordering you to ditch now and contact the Tower as soon as you can. Tell them that we've lost control of the aircraft."

The pilot seemed to look at her with a new respect. He finished putting on his parachute and then gave her a low bow. "That is very brave of you, Senior Inspector. Very brave. I will call the authorities and tell them what has happened. Reizo."

The co-pilot scrambled to his feet and also bowed to Akane. Then he ran after his superior to the cargo bay, where the rear doors were beginning to yawn open, sending gales of wind hurtling through the cabin.

"Put this on," Akane said, and shoved a parachute into Arishima's arms. The Inspector was watching her in silence, a crease running between his eyebrows. She prayed that behind his thoughtful expression suspicions weren't being formed. He took the parachute automatically and began to buckle it around himself, his movements slow and distracted.

"Why don't we put a parachute on Kogami and throw him out?" Arishima said suddenly.

Akane slid into the pilot's chair and made a show of examining the controls. In reality, she knew that Choe was ably flying the plane. She took the yoke and moved it around a little bit, but nothing happened. She could feel Arishima's stare burning into the back of her head.

"I told you why," she said quietly. "He's too injured. He wouldn't survive the fall."

"You don't know that."

"I know that it's a risk we can't take," Akane said. "Now who's endangering the mission?"

She continued with her pantomime piloting, but her attention was wholly focused on watching Arishima in the reflection of the cockpit window. He was still standing there, his parachute half-buckled, a look on his face that was uncomfortably close to one of understanding.

"You have your orders," Akane said. "Put on your chute and go. Tell Sibyl what happened."

For a tense moment, Akane thought he would attack her. But then, as if conceding the wisdom of her suggestion, he nodded and disappeared into the cargo bay, carefully closing the cockpit door behind him.

Akane waited until she heard the door seal shut before speaking. "Choe, are you there?"

"Where else would I be?" the hacker retorted, and she couldn't help smiling.

"You didn't have any problems taking control of the plane?"

Choe grunted. "Nothing that a little seat-of-the-pants coding couldn't fix."

He's good, I'll give him that. "How long until we land?" she asked.

"Ask me again in five minutes. But we're getting close. You'd better go prep Kogami. He needs a tap put into his brain stem. Go shave the back of his head and get it disinfected."

"Right." As she climbed to her feet, Akane couldn't help herself. "Will I have a chance to speak with him? Before we leave, I mean?"

For a moment, she thought Choe hadn't heard her. Then he said, "I have something at the warehouse that will wake him up and make him feel like a million bucks. He won't like the crash afterwards, though. That'll be on you."

Akane smiled. "He'll live."

Choe grunted again.

She stood, and after taking one last look out of the aircraft's windows, she turned to open the cockpit door. She had only made it a few steps into the cargo bay when she felt it: a scream from the brain's most primitive centers, telling her that danger was near. She sensed movement behind her and whirled, her hand grasping for her Dominator, but she was struck in quick succession on her face, body, and legs, a neat series of economical punches and kicks that sent her sliding down the cargo bay on her back. When she looked up, blinking through a bloodied eye, she saw Arishima smiling at her, his Dominator leveled at her chest. He'd hidden behind the cockpit door, of course.

Idiot! Akane thought. You should have predicted that. You're a detective. Would Kogami have let someone sneak up on him?

She began to reach for her own weapon, which lay halfway between them on the cargo bay floor, but Arishima's smile widened—an invitation. "Go on," he urged, and gestured with the barrel of his Dominator, which suddenly seemed to have an endless depth to it. "Do it, Tsunemori. Please."

If he expected Akane to panic, he would be disappointed, she thought wryly. Sitting up, Akane worked her jaw until it gave an unpleasant pop and opened without pain. "What's your plan, Arishima? Take Kogami and set him free? Wait until Sibyl hears about this."

"Oh, please," the younger man said with a snort. "Do you think we aren't aware of what you're doing, Tsunemori? Do you really think Sibyl trusts you to deliver Shinya Kogami into its arms to face execution? The man you love?"

Akane stared at him. "Who are you?"

Now that whatever deception had existed between them was a moot point, Arishima seemed to change. Before he had been meek, anxious, his eyes constantly roaming around like those of a rat when a hawk is near, and his body had seemed designed to melt into whatever wall or doorway was closest to it. That was no longer the case. Arishima stood confidently, feet planted firmly on the deck of the Osprey, the arm that held the Dominator not wavering in the slightest. He had transformed into some other person, she thought. He's not like young me at all. He's cynical, a liar. A chameleon.

Then it struck her. There was only one department that fielded just that type of officer. She studied him closely and nodded, certain of it.

"Did you figure it out?" Arishima asked, and raised a mocking eyebrow. "Well, in case you haven't, let me spell it out for you. I'm with Internal Affairs, Inspector Tsunemori, and I'm hereby placing you under arrest."

"On what charge?"

"For one, attempting to interfere with the lawful arrest of a fugitive. I'm sure we can come up with plenty more."

"Where's your evidence?"

Arishima chuckled. "I'm afraid we do things a little differently in Internal Affairs, Inspector. We have fewer checks and balances to bother with. Sibyl trusts us—and by extension, me—far more than it would ever trust someone like you."

"So you admit that you have no evidence."

"This—" Arishima used his Dominator to gesture at the out-of-control aircraft "—is all your doing, I'm sure. We'll figure everything out once we've gotten back to Nona Tower."

The muzzle of the Dominator was still pointed slightly to the side. Akane took her chance. With her legs coiled under her, she let six years of track and field launch herself toward the Dominator lying on the floor of the Osprey. Arishima's reaction was a half-second too slow. She seized the weapon with one hand and kept going, throwing herself directly at the startled Internal Affairs detective. They collided just as Arishima pulled the trigger.

"The weapon is not aimed at a target. The trigger has been locked. Please acquire a target and try again."

Surprise and disbelief flooded Arishima's face even as they flew through the air. He may have had fifty pounds on her, but Akane had taken her martial arts lessons with Kogami very seriously indeed. The pain of their landing was muted by adrenaline—they seemed to be on top of each other, limbs every which way. Akane kept a tight grip on her Dominator and drove her knee into Arishima's gut as hard as she could. His attempt to wrestle the gun away from her abruptly became a choking gasp.

She managed to get halfway to her feet before Arishima responded. His kick was expertly aimed at her knee, but lacked power. Still, her leg buckled beneath her and she nearly went down. She turned the momentum into a roll, which got her enough room to stagger upright, the Dominator clutched in both hands.

Arishima tried to stand, found that he hadn't yet gained his breath, and collapsed into the seat behind him. He breathed heavily through his mouth and gazed at Akane with narrowed eyes, blood dripping down his cheek. Somehow—and she didn't remember doing it—she had taken off a good chunk of flesh beneath his left eye with her fingernail.

"You did it to my gun, too," he accused, and for a moment Akane didn't understand what he meant. Then she began to laugh. Arishima gestured to the Osprey, and as if in response, the aircraft's engines seemed to pitch lower, as though they were reducing power in preparation for a landing. "The same thing you did to the plane." He waved to the cockpit and took another shuddering gasp. "Somehow."

"It's a good thing you were Internal Affairs," Akane responded. "If that's the best you can do, you would never have made it in my Division."

Arishima's sallow cheeks began to redden, and the blotchy color spreading across his face had the look of ugly bruises. One side of his face was swollen and larger than the other. Akane hoped she didn't look as bad, but she suspected she did.

"You hacked it," Arishima insisted, angrily.

"You were sleeping," Akane said. "I didn't need to hack anything. I took it out of your holster and replaced it with mine."

For a moment, Akane was sure the man would lunge at her. His eyes seemed to go red with rage and hatred. "How did you know?" The question was strangled and barely understandable.

"You should have known that Shion would realize there was something unusual about your Dominator," Akane said gently. "Her rooms are kitted out with every kind of sensor you can imagine. They picked up the fact that, unlike her own Dominator, yours never contacted Sibyl for the hourly authentication checks. She did some digging and found that your university records were added to the database a week before you were assigned to our Division. She was kind enough to let me know all of this before we left on our mission."

"That bitch," Arishima growled. "I'll kill her."

"I'm giving you a chance," Akane said levelly. "Take the parachute and go. You won't get another."

"I won't, will I?" Arishima wiped blood from his mouth and examined it on his hand. He rubbed his fingers together and smiled. Then—slowly, as if moving caused him great pain—he climbed to his feet, wavered there for a few seconds, and began to walk toward her. "I don't think you would shoot me, not with that gun. I've read your file. You're the honorable Akane Tsunemori, true believer in justice and law enforcement. You're good." His smile was broken by a chipped tooth, and looked more like a pained grimace.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Akane advised him.

"You won't shoot me," Arishima insisted, and took another staggering step toward her. "Give me the gun, Tsunemori. I'll only book you on a misdemeanor. How does that sound?"

"It sounds like you want a Paralyzer to the face," Akane replied. "Don't move."

"I'll give you a Paralyzer," Arishima snarled, and moved.

He was faking it, Akane thought, and that was all she had time to think, because Arishima was practically on top of her, and intending murder. She reacted without thought. Her training took over, and it was just as if Kogami had reached out to take the gun from her. The muzzle steadied as her elbow locked and her shoulders stiffened. One eye briefly closed as she took aim. Then the trigger grazed her fingertip—or perhaps it was the other way around. The Dominator seemed almost to inhale cosmic energies; there was an abrupt crackling of the air, a burst of ionization, a sharp smell of ozone, and—

The man known as Itaru Arishima, Internal Affairs detective of the Public Safety Bureau of Japan, aged 25, died instantly. The Destroy-Decomposer round that turned his skull and brain to a jellied mess kept going when it reached the back of his head. It went through the armored fuselage of the C-22 Osprey and took out most of the left wing.

With a groan of rending metal and the howling sound of the wind, the aircraft began to fall from the sky.