Chapter 5: A Productive Expedition
(AN: Thank you to Siatru for beta reading this chapter, and thank you to everybody for the fascinating conversations.)
Four days later, I was back in the basement with the rest of the Kozuki cell, minus Kallen. Despite her continued protestations, Naoto wouldn't be budged and told her to keep attending classes at Ashford Academy. I hoped she remembered the points I had made about the many opportunities presented by her enrollment, but that was out of my hands for now.
Naoto had called another meeting three days earlier than our usual scheduled weekly get-together because of a bit of news he'd heard through the Resistance grapevine from a group in Arakawa. This particular bit of intelligence was specifically interesting because it revealed the fates of about three hundred unlucky Numbers who had been rounded up and taken to parts unknown a week earlier.
"...They're working on the new maglev bridge over the Sumida River. It seems like the Britannians want to expand the Taito line into the new Concessions in Sumida." Naoto rambled on, gesturing at the crumpled and heavily annotated road map of pre-Conquest Tokyo on the table in front of him. Judging by the enthusiasm in his voice, the budding warlord was happy to finally have a target in his sights, and I could see why. The maglev system was one of the crowning engineering achievements of the Britannian occupation, replacing the ruined Tokyo subway and rail system with a new ultra-modern transportation network. Apparently, the trains were somehow powered or moved by Sakuradite, although the exact mechanism was beyond my understanding. I could only assume that the vast quantities of Sakuradite being mined in Area 11 made such a resource-heavy project plausible.
More to the point, while crippling or slowing down the construction of the maglev system would be a black eye for the current Britannian administration, freeing the now enslaved Shinjuku residents would give us a significant PR boost, as well as a pool of possible recruits. It was certainly an enticing target.
However, I strongly suspected it would be a bad move for a group such as ours to aim that high. It was a virtual guarantee that the worksite of such an important and highly visible project would be heavily guarded by Britannian soldiers, likely backed up by Knight Police, civilianized Knightmare Frames used for crowd control, at the very least. Considering how important the project was, as well as how close it was to the central Tokyo Settlement of the Britannian Concession, I'd be very surprised if there weren't Glasgows deployed at the site as well. There was also the consideration that, if any Britannian soldiers did die during our strike on the work site, a hundred times that number of Numbers would pay the price, which would both be counter to our organization's long-term objective, and likely to turn the local population against the Resistance, or at least make them less likely to pass on information.
I need to talk Naoto out of this, somehow. I thought, otherwise this battle maniac is going to shoot us all in the foot! Fortunately, I had an enticing alternative target already lined up, thanks to some gossip of my own I'd collected two days ago while helping out at a courier service.
"I have a suggestion, sir." I began, when Naoto finally paused to take a breath. All eyes turned to me, and I took a moment to make eye contact with each of the other people around the table. I was pleasantly surprised to see that everyone was paying attention to me and nobody looked indignant that the new recruit was speaking up during a planning meeting, so I took the cue to carry on.
"At the moment, I don't think it's wise for us to attack the worksite." I began, making my first point as diplomatically as possible. "Currently, there's only six people in our organization, and the only weapons we have are small arms and light anti-vehicle missiles." That was a generous, though accurate, way to describe the forlorn pair of RPGs leaning against a wall in the armory. "The maglev line is a major Britannian project, right? There will be Knightmares guarding the job site, and we don't have anything that can take down a Glasgow." And that was the rational argument for not attacking the job site, but I didn't think that alone would dissuade Naoto. Fanatics of any stripe are notoriously resistant to reason, after all.
"Furthermore, if we kill Britannian soldiers, we all know who will pay the price." And now for the ideological argument. "The prime objective of our organization is to improve the lives of the Japanese and safe-guard their well-being, right?" A silent chorus of nods, ranging from Nagata's enthusiastic nodding to the single curt nod from Ohgi. Naoto gestured fro me to continue, and so I duly resumed my pitch. "Well, in the light of that objective, I suggest that we avoid striking at Britannian targets for now, and instead focus on closer targets in the Shinjuku Ghetto. I think we should begin striking back at the criminal gangs that are terrorizing our people."
"Wait, what?!" Tamaki was, of course, the first and loudest to make his concerns known. "Why the hell should we attack other Japanese? We're here to fight the damned Brits, not each other!"
I nodded at him, acknowledging his issue. I was proposing a realignment of the operational strategy to a less obvious target and apparently abandoning a key ideological plank of our platform. It was natural that the old guard would have concerns about such an abrupt departure.
"There are two broad arguments supporting this course of action, the first ideological and the second practical." I moved my eyes away from Tamaki and back to Naoto, who raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "First, the ideological: Everything we do, we do on behalf of the Japanese nation and its people. We've all agreed on that point. And of course attacking the target in Sumida would serve the Japanese nation by freeing its enslaved citizens from their capture, and by slowing the grinding advance of the Concession into another Tokyo district." I paused for effect, and to take a deep breath. This bit was important, but possibly a deal-breaker with hardliners like Naoto and Ohgi. "At present, every time we kill a Britannian soldier, a hundred Japanese die. I don't think that exchange serves the Japanese nation very well. If we free all three hundred workers allegedly at the job site, but a thousand civilians are murdered as a result, haven't we just spent seven hundred lives without any gain?"
A thoughtful silence fell over the table, and I smiled internally to see my new comrades thinking the issue over. Ever since the Conquest, one of the biggest gripes I'd had with the many insurgents in the Ghetto was how thoughtless they seemed, as if they could never draw the connection between their actions and the mass reprisals, nor how these reprisals would impact everybody touched by them. Inserting that concern into the decision matrix of even a small terrorist cell already made undergoing all those tests completely worth it.
"Instead, I think we should try to serve the interests of the Japanese nation in a more oblique way, at least for now." I continued my pitch, moderating my tone to be more calm and reconciling, instead of confrontational or assertive. "Britannians aside, I think the greatest collective cause of misery in the slums is the various gangs. They make a bad situation worse, beating and stealing and selling addictive drugs to anyone with coin to spend." I smiled at the mutter of agreement at that point. Nobody liked the vulture-like criminal groups that had descended on Shinjuku after the breakdown in law and order, but they were too deeply entrenched to be easily removed at this point. "If we can break the power of the gangs in Shinjuku, we will improve the lives of everybody else living here, doing an enormous service to the Japanese nation. Even better, the Britannians won't care about Elevens killing Elevens, so there won't be any reprisals either, so any gains we make won't be tainted with mass executions."
Naoto nodded and smiled at me. "Very true! Honestly, that would be a major upside – it'd probably make it way easier to sleep afterwards, eh?" As quick as it came, the cheerful enthusiasm disappeared, replaced by a more serious expression. Ah, time to get down to brass tacks, eh? "I'm assuming that was the ideological argument for targeting the criminal element in Shinjuku – but what's your 'practical' argument, Tanya?"
I smiled back in gratitude, happy for the smooth transition he'd provided as well as the implicit acceptance of my first point. "Well, sir, there's a variety of practical benefits to striking the gangs." I resisted the urge to get up and start pacing. It would have been more visually attractive, forcing my audience to actively follow my movements, not to mention working out some of the nervous tension that making my first big pitch as a member of the Kozuki Cell was building in my system. But, doing so would break the personal connection eye contact inspires, not to mention signaling my distance from the group, which would be counter-intuitive.
"First, the material benefits: If we start striking gang armories, stash houses, and drug labs, we'll likely get our hands on all kinds of useful material, including weapons, ammunition, medical supplies, money, and explosives. This will both increase our own organizational strength and weaken the enemy." The material benefits were simple and clear-cut, an ideal sweetener to entice the audience's interest. Judging by how everybody had started unconsciously leaning in towards the table, it had worked.
"That'd be huge!" Inoue burst in excitedly, and I shut my mouth and looked over at her, implicitly ceding the floor to her. I'd learned that she was actually the logistics officer for the cell, such as one member in a now-six man organization could be. "You know things have been pretty tight lately, since the latest Concession expansion pushed so many people into Shinjuku. Prices were already high, but now everyone's hoarding whatever they can get their hands on. Especially medicine."
I nodded at that, as did everyone else. The latest expansion had caused the population of Shinjuku to swell by at least 20,000. The livable parts of the district had already been densely over-crowded and food had been expensive; with the latest population increase the winter would be very hard. Any structure that offered a hint of shelter and warmth from the elements was already spoken for, so inevitably some people wouldn't find any refuge from the cold. Potable water and food were already in critically short supply, and as the cold came and small individual or community plots stopped producing, things would get even worse.
Even worse, while the Britannians had stepped up their investment in public health after the Osaka Outbreak, disease was still a constant concern. Tuberculosis, diphtheria, cholera, and influenza were all common in the Ghetto, and potential death sentences, particularly since so few people were getting their full daily caloric requirements met, to say nothing of adequate vitamins. In the entertainment districts, untreated syphilis had been the bane of my mother's old co-workers in the years since the end of the invasion and the collapse of the health care system, and of course the Britannians refused to provide life-saving antibacterial medication to prostitutes.
In short, the situation was dire. Medical supplies, food, clean water, and shelter were all in critically short supply in the Ghetto, and prices were going up.
Naoto grimaced and nodded at that. "For sure. Wonder if the gangs are waiting for prices to get even higher before they start selling their stockpiles, or if they're going to hoard them for themselves?" He shrugged and turned back to me. "You were saying?"
Right, onto the next point! "Yes sir. Putting it very bluntly, we need to recruit. The entirety of the Kozuki Organization is sitting at this table, and six people aren't enough to do meaningful damage to the Britannians." Naoto looked like he was going to say something, but swallowed his words and nodded for me to continue. "Now, a large part of why recruiting from the slums is difficult is because of the gangs. The gangs are both a competing organization vying for the allegiance of young people willing to do violence, and as an inhibiting factor for recruiting more seasoned people who have more to lose. After all, it's hard to sign up for the Resistance if it means your family might be left alone in a crime invested district. People who are honorable and want to build a better life for their children are unlikely to leave those children to the tender mercies of gangsters."
Surprisingly, Nagata broke in to the conversation this time. "You're damned right about that." For the first time since I'd met him, he looked visibly angry, his brow creased furiously and his usually placid eyes all but bursting with emotion. "Every time I leave my wife and daughter for one of these meetings or an operation, I wonder if I'll come home to find out they've been kidnapped, or attacked, or killed. And..." He closed his eyes and took a breath before continuing. "And the idea that I'll die one day, and they'll be left in Shinjuku without help or protection... It bothers me."
After a moment of silence, I continued. "Finally, some of the gangs are in the pocket of Britannians. Probably not the Administration itself, but certainly some nobles hire slum gangs as legbreakers, or go into business with them. This is bad enough already, as it means the Britannians are able to pit us against ourselves with their filthy money, but the implications are even worse. If the gangs are willing to sell violence on demand to the Britannians, what about intelligence?" Ohgi and Naoto both cursed under their breath, and I knew they immediately understood what I was getting at. "Yes, the gangs are likely Britannia's best resource when it comes to identifying and locating insurgent cells in the Ghetto. They have purchasable local knowledge and a complete lack of scruples. As long as the gangs remain in operation, we will never be safe and secure."
Ohgi gave a short, jerky nod to this. "Much as I hate to admit that our fellow Japanese could do such a thing... I believe your assessment is correct, Tanya." He grimaced, as if he'd bitten into something sour, but I thought I caught a hint of enthusiasm around his eyes. "We're going to have to do something about them before they do something about us, particularly whichever gang it was those men who were going after Kallen belonged to. They've already got a grievance against us, even if they don't know about it yet. If they ever figure out what happened, they'd definitely sell us out."
He could feign reluctance all he wanted, but I knew that Ohgi must have been disappointed to miss that little scrape. He hadn't gotten the opportunity to commit some easily justifiable violence, and now he was getting frustrated. I can't say I particularly liked working with such an unsavory individual, but he was both an intelligent man and the second in command. I'd welcome his support for my strategy, and be certain in his willingness to show no mercy to our fellow Elevens.
Tamaki grunted, and crossed his arms belligerently over his chest. "I get what you're sayin', Tanya, and it sounds pretty good, but... I dunno about giving the damned Brits a chance to breathe while we fight criminals, y'know?"
While his zeal for the fight was commendable, the problem with stubborn battle maniacs was always getting them to drop whichever bone they were gnawing when the situation changed. I tried to figure out how to cater to his specific emotional needs, but Naoto got the drop on me.
"Tamaki, do you remember the questions Tanya asked us last time we were here together?" His voice was quiet, but there was a steel to Naoto's tone. "She asked us if we were really trying to help the Japanese, or if we just wanted to build a new empire on top of them." Had I asked that? I didn't remember saying any such thing, but I didn't contradict Naoto. Publicly correcting your superiors was a fast way to never get promoted, and I was content being his cipher, if he wanted to put his words in my mouth. "You told us your answer then, but I think this is an opportunity to back up your words with deeds." He looked away from Tamaki, and at the rest of us. "Are we fighting for ourselves, or for others? Are we willing to sacrifice our own well-being and personal desires for the greater good of the Japanese people?"
"Fuck it, fine!" Tamaki slammed his fist on the table, drawing the focus of the attention back to himself. "I'd much rather curb-stomp some damned Brit bitch, but..." He heaved a sigh, and the flaring temper shrank back into a more controlled anger. "I want to help. I want to make things better for everybody, not just us." And then the cocky grin I remembered from our first meeting was back. "And hey, if I can show off how cool I am by beating up some thugs, maybe I'll impress a chick or three!"
While Inoue put Tamaki in a headlock and Nagata tried to convince her to let go of the grinning redhead, Naoto turned back to me and smiled. "Well, I think you've convinced us to change our game plan." His smile turned conspiratorial as he leaned in towards me. "Now, Tanya, that you've convinced us all that we should do what you want... Where do you think we should attack?"
Two days earlier, as I'd been working for a courier service in exchange for a bowl of nameless soup for dinner, I'd heard an interesting bit of gossip from a few men malingering around the entrance to a delivery location. While dickering over ersatz cigarettes, one of the men squatting outside the door where I'd stood waiting for the recipient had mentioned a particular address as the new location of his dealer's supplier. I'd made sure to take a route nearby the address the next day, and found that it was an abandoned restaurant with a suspicious amount of foot traffic. Even more suspicious was the bulky man with the squashed nose who'd been leaning against the wall of the next building over when I'd passed by in the morning, and who was still there when I went by again five hours later.
I proceeded to explain all this to Naoto, who beamed with approval. "Great job, Tanya! That sounds incredibly suspicious – definitely worth a look!" His boyish enthusiasm sent a spike of panic through me – I was still new, and I'd never seen Naoto lead in battle before; what if he thought he was an Alexander, and led from the front or some foolishness?! I hadn't thoroughly scouted the location out – what if he just decided to lead us all in some sort of heroic charge through their front door?
"Ah, sir, can I make another suggestion?" I ventured delicately, not wanting to puncture his good mood. Thankfully, it seemed like his expansive attitude was lingering for now. "Sure thing, Tanya! Whatcha got?" Perfect! This way, I could display my zealousness by volunteering for the scouting mission, which would both give me an opportunity to gather more information and give me the respect I needed to take a rear position during our attack without being thought a coward! "I'd like to take the opportunity to scout out the target location tonight." I smiled at him, making sure to display the dimples since that had worked so well on Ohgi. "'They wouldn't suspect a girl of being a scout, and I'm smaller and lighter. I'll poke around, find out how many guards there are and their locations, and report back to you."
Naoto looked like he was turning the idea over in his head, but before he could come to a decision Ohgi burst in. "Absolutely not!" I jerked back from the table, smile sliding off my face, completely nonplussed by the typically calm Ohgi acting so aggressively. "You are not sending a child alone into danger, Naoto. Bad enough that I gave her a gun, but sending her poking around a yakuza house without backup? Absolutely not." Ah, so that's his problem. He's feeling frustrated and left out! No doubt the prospect of drawing blood for the first time in days was driving Ohgi through the roof with frustration.
That was... sub-optimal. Information gathering required a calm mind and a dispassionate willingness to remain detached and aloof, in order to bring back accurate and useful observations. A frothing axe maniac was a liability in such an operation. Still, though, bringing him with me had the benefit of giving me backup if the guards were actually competent, as well as currying favor with my superiors. I'd just have to suck it up and do my best fulfill the mission despite his presence.
"You can come too, Ohgi!" I took the initiative, figuring that a friendly invitation from me would interrupt any building hostility between Ohgi and Naoto resulting from their butting heads, not to mention aligning myself with Ohgi in the ongoing negotiations. "It's always wise to have someone watching your back when entering potentially dangerous situations, after all!"
For some reason, he didn't look any happier. Ohgi stalked out of the hideout when Naoto agreed to let both of us go scout the location before rushing out to track down the irate man. I hoped he'd find a way to get control of his blood lust before we had to go to work.
Several hours later, Ohgi and I were ensconced in an abandoned office building across the street from the restaurant turned stash house and two floors up. I had found a pair of binoculars in the armory before we'd left, and I'd been using them to carefully examine every inch of the building's front face and the street outside. So far I'd found the same guard from a few days ago in the same position, although he'd found a different wall to slouch against. I'd also discovered that there were two guards immediately inside the building, lurking in what had once been the reception area, no doubt there to slow down any intruders while the serious muscle in the back rooms got ready.
Unfortunately, that was about all of use I'd determined about the target location after an hour of observation. Ohgi was getting restless, and if I was being honest, I was too. I lifted my face from the binoculars, and checked again that my telltale blonde hair was entirely tucked back under the scarf I'd tied around my head, which was in turn hidden under the hood of an over-sized sweatshirt. Finding it satisfactorily concealed, I carefully moved out of the window's sight profile, stood up and stretched, handing the binoculars to Ohgi. He nearly fumbled them, and I sighed internally. He must be tired if he's already sleeping on his feet.
"I'm going to take a quick walk around the block." I casually said as I checked my pistol, holstered under my sweatshirt, and my knife, a four inch long single sided affair which was tucked into the voluminous frontal pocket of the sweatshirt. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes."
Ohgi grunted with discontentment, but waved me out. I figured he just wanted the mission over with as quickly as possible, a desire I sympathized with, but neither of us could leave until we'd gotten a thorough look at the target.
I quickly scampered downstairs, moving as quietly as I could and dodging the dilapidated office furniture strewn about the place, abandoned for years and worthless as scrap or burnable fuel. We'd come in through a busted back door overlooking an old loading dock area that let out into an alley that had provided vehicle access to the office block in better days, and I was relatively sure that I'd seen a similar alley passing through the block where the stash house sat. I figured a single pass through that alley would be enough to get the bones of the situation, then I could report back to Ohgi and we could go home for the night. I'd just pretend to scrounge for edible garbage as I went down the alley, and nobody would so much as notice – after all, nobody had noticed me doing it before, and my obviously non-Japanese blonde hair had been fully visible then.
As I approached the mouth of the alley, I adjusted my gait and posture, stooping my back, hunching my shoulders, and taking only small cursory steps, doing my best to look as harmless and pitiful as possible. I did a bad job preparing for this mission. I berated myself internally as I scuttled into the shadows. I should've brought a sack of some sort to carry anything I find... Oh, and radios would have been wonderful too. To my annoyance, when I'd searched the armory before leaving the basement, I'd found the binoculars but I hadn't found any handheld radios, which meant I had no way of communicating with Ohgi. Hopefully, we could buy some better gear with whatever money we would steal when we hit this target, or we'd find some to appropriate ourselves.
While the alley proved empty of anything edible, I did discover a cluster of three men standing around what must have been the service entrance for the restaurant. Two appeared to be standard issue guards, as much as that was such a thing, wearing a variety of tattered layers and colored scarves tied around their upper arms. The third man, however, carried himself with authority and wore clothing that looked significantly better than the cast off wardrobes the other two had. They were talking about something... no, the authoritative man was rambling on about something and the other two were dutifully listening and chuckling where appropriate. I hunched down, doing my best to disappear into a small lump of nothing, and hoped that the light from the dim light fixture hanging above their heads had dampened their night vision as I listened in.
"...and that was the third time I tried crystal meth!" The apparent officer guffawed, and after a beat his subordinates dutifully chuckled. Minus the context, I felt like I was back in some bar after work once more, listening to the same tedious anecdotes from the old men at the top, and had to quash the impulse to chuckle in chorus with the two guards. Shaking off the odd flash of something almost like muscle memory, I continued listening to the more richly dressed man regal his captive audience with another two anecdotes before finally saying something interesting. "Anyway, old man Ryuji thinks that the boys from Kokuryu-kai have learned about this location, somehow. It's a pain in the ass since we just finished setting up here, I know, but we gotta get everything packed back up again. The truck's gonna be here in..." He checked his watch, and visibly winced. "Ten minutes! So tell Kohta to get his shit together to move!"
One of the guards hastily ran inside, followed by the officer himself, leaving the last man alone outside in the cold. Once the door closed, he murmured a curse, but dutifully took up his guard position by the door again. For my part, I did my best to make myself invisible, lying down in a slight dip in the ground by the side of the pavement that might have been a gutter and trying to press myself into the pavement. I knew the fifteen minutes I'd told Ohgi I'd be out for were likely already gone, but I didn't think I could make it back to the office building to let him know what I'd found out and back in the ten minutes the officer had allotted. If I started running around the chances one of these idiots would notice me would also increase, which would lead to either them trying to kill me, or an even faster evacuation of everything worth taking.
Either way, that would be a failed mission, and I wasn't willing to let my first mission in my new job fail so unceremoniously. The taint of screwing up like that, of being so unsure of my partner and of my own judgment that I blew the mission checking up on him, would be absolute poison to my chances at a managerial role in the new Stadtfeld regime.
Five minutes later, and a dingy panel truck pulled up. The battered vehicle proclaimed it as a delivery vehicle for the "Happy Clam Fishmonger", but the men who stepped out looked entirely too well-dressed to be fishmongers. Both of the newcomers walked over to the guard, and then all three entered the restaurant, leaving the truck unattended. Apparently, they had decided that either nobody was here in this particular corner of Shinjuku at two in the morning, or that nobody here would be willing to steal a truck from a clear criminal operation. They were partially correct in their assessment.
Thirty seconds later, I was climbing through the unlocked driver's side door. The men had taken the keys when they'd left, but had left the truck unlocked and the lights on, presumably to aid in the rapid evacuation of the contents of the building. I was fine with that – I had no interest in stealing an empty truck, after all. Thanks to their sloppy discipline, I didn't have to try hanging onto the roof of the vehicle or anything fancy like that – instead, I folded myself down into the narrow gap behind the passenger-side seat and the rear of the cab. I doubt many other people could manage the fit, and even I had to take off my bulky sweatshirt and pistol and stash them behind the driver's side. Only my four foot three inch, ninety-one pound frame let me slide myself into the narrow gap, my knife tightly clasped in my left hand.
Now, there was nothing to do but wait and see...
A bare two minutes after I'd finished concealing myself behind the seat, I heard the sounds of movement outside, followed by twenty minutes of what sounded like very hard work. Idly, I wondered what sort of benefits gang membership had in this fallen Japan – was it just three squares and a bed, or did they get a cut of the proceeds? – before two men climbed back into the truck. Two tries at ignition later, we were on our way to some other no-doubt desolate corner of the Ghetto.
I waited until five minutes of movement had passed before I made my move, to give time for the truck to move out of sight of whichever gangsters had stayed behind. Carefully, I spun up my reflex and strength enhancement suite, taking care not to so much as twitch as the familiar rush of magic rushed through my body. As soon as I was sure my enhancements were working, I began to carefully snake my left arm out and around the side of the passenger chair, knife in hand. Thankfully, the lack of interior cabin lighting or much in the way of functional streetlights meant that the driver didn't see my arm in the left side mirror, and neither did the passenger notice reflected movement in his door window.
As soon as my forearm was free of the crack and my hand was angled upwards, I flexed my magically-enhanced strength and thrust. I'd carefully judged the angle, and the knife entered through the side of his neck towards the back, stabbing in and through his trachea. I continued the arc of the blade by slashing out and to the left, slicing through the left side of his neck and severing the left jugular vein and carotid artery as it did so.
Not wasting a moment, as soon as the knife was clear of his neck, I whipped my now bloodied left arm back through the crack into the space behind the chair, quickly passing the knife off to my other hand.
The punctured windpipe prevented the passenger from communicating anything to his compatriot, but the desperate, panicked thrashing coupled with the arterial spurt clued the driver in that something was amiss. "Junji?! Junji, man, what's wrong? Junji?" Fortunately, the driver parked the truck before reaching over to grab his friend in the time honored practices of shaking the injured on the off-chance that it improves their condition.
Before he'd even managed to grasp his friend's shoulder, though, I lunged out from behind the seat, pouring every iota of magical strength into a single thrust. The blade, guided by training and enhanced reflexes, slammed home just below his left armpit, buried to the hilt in his side. To my embarrassment, instead of going between the ribs as I had intended, the blade had actually slammed through his rib, my strength somehow sufficient to fracture the bone. Fortunately, this meant that instead of a single blade probing for his heart and lung, I had managed to drive three into his thoracic cavity.
As soon as the last spasms faded from the former driver's hand, I hauled myself out from my hiding place and into the gap between the two chairs. With a significant amount of effort, I managed to maneuver and brute force the driver's body onto the unfortunate Junji, before shoving him down into the feet area to prevent him from slouching over onto the clutch. Then, I retrieved my sweatshirt and gun from the gap behind the driver's seat, and pulled my layer back on – it was cold outside, and both of my arms were now completely soaked. Finally, I took a deep breath, and allowed myself a smile – by dint of much patience and effort, I was now the undisputed master of this truck.
My smile faded quickly as I realized that I had no idea how to drive the vehicle. I'd had a driver's license in my first life, but I'd almost exclusively used the rail in my adult life and the vehicle I'd learned how to drive so long ago had been a mere sedan. I was the master of this truck, but I had no idea how to move the damned thing.
Fortunately, the driver hadn't been moving too quickly, so I wasn't too far away from where I'd left Ohgi. I'd been sure to turn off the truck's lights and take the keys with me, but I wanted to hurry back as quickly as possible. I doubted anybody would be foolish enough to steal a truck with two dead bodies in the cab, but the contents of the cargo compartment were another story. Happily, when I found him pacing anxiously outside the office building, Ohgi was too anxious to see what we'd found to require much convincing to follow me.
Admittedly, he did delay us somewhat by exclaiming his relief that I'd returned unharmed, and asking where I'd been and whose blood I was covered in, but after I explained the urgency of our situation he came along quickly enough.
It turned out that Ohgi had a basic understanding of how to operate trucks, and so after he helped me shove the bodies out of the vehicle and carry them into a nearby alley, we managed to slowly drive the vehicle back to our hideout.
By the time we finally reached the area where our little sub-basement headquarters was located, the first light of dawn was already reaching across the horizon. On the way over, Ohgi and I had briefly tried to figure out whether or not to keep the truck, and where to stash it if so. Eventually, we concluded that we did indeed need to keep the truck, at least until we'd offloaded the cargo. Apparently, there was a small parking lot attached to the crumbling apartment block, which had a few spots which were not filled with derelicts or rubble, but it offered no real cover to hide the truck away under. So, after Ohgi parked the truck, I volunteered to stay with it as he ran down to the hideout to grab a pair of bolt cutters and whoever was there, and get them to haul the contents of the cargo compartment down into the basement.
A few minutes and some muttered curses as the lock stubbornly resisted the shearing force of the instrument later, and the truck's cargo hold was open. Unfortunately for the eager Tamaki, we didn't get the opportunity to immediately learn what we'd managed to plunder from the yakuza, as everything was surprisingly neatly packed in a variety of cardboard and wooden boxes. Happily this made the process of hauling them down two flights of stairs far more efficient than hauling armfuls of miscellaneous goods would have been, and in an hour Tamaki, Naoto, and Ohgi had managed to haul our liberated cartons away into the hideout. I'd offered to help, but Ohgi had strenuously and repeatedly denied my efforts, pointing out that I'd done the vast majority of the work during the scouting mission turned impromptu raid. I graciously conceded the point, as my enhancements had begun to flag from physical exhaustion.
I wasn't too exhausted to follow Tamaki and Naoto back downstairs to the hideout, though. I knew there would be no chance of sleep until I'd managed to sooth my curiosity about what we'd accomplished. Ohgi had volunteered to take care of the vehicle, and had left with a pair of Naoto's black market hand grenades and the truck. I hoped that would be adequate to erase whatever forensic evidence we'd left behind, but ultimately decided to not worry about it and trust my comrade. I was certain that a battle maniac denied the ability to slake his bloodlust but given the freedom to demolish a valuable piece of equipment would have no difficulty converting a perfectly usable truck into a burnt out husk.
As I stood in the sub-basement, swaying on my feet, Naoto and Tamaki opened box after box, using a crowbar to pry open wooden slats where necessary. The first few boxes contained an abundance of large unlabeled brown bottles that clearly contained homebrewed liquor. Two of the wooden boxes contained a variety of laboratory equipment as well as a number of sealed jars, phials, and bottles, all unlabeled except for a number written somewhere on them – a sequential order, perhaps? The smallest cardboard box, lined with plastic, indicated the likely use of the lab equipment, as it contained 45 kilograms of what Tamaki identified as crystal methamphetamine. The final cardboard box was just full of Britannian cash, an entire box of bundles of various denominations of bills, all grubby and showing signs of heavy use. The final wooden box, the largest of the entire haul, contained five brand new Britannian assault rifles, still in their packing materials. No ammunition, though.
Well, it was a decidedly mixed haul, but I could already see all kinds of potential uses for everything we'd found. The cash would be the most helpful, I decided, and the lab equipment had potential if we found someone with the requisite expertise to use it. The meth, however...
"Naoto," I began, "how do you feel about selling amphetamines to the Britannians?"