==
The van engine started. With a roar and a flurry of revs the metal sides began to vibrate, and in the darkness the chains rattled and clanked. There was a short burst of voices heard through the wall from the front seats, where the two mid-ranking Angels members were perched, and one comment that filtered through the noise was "You'll hurt the gearbox!"
With a lurch, the vehicle sprang forward amid more heated chatter from the front seats. Ryo struggled to maintain balance as his companion tumbled backwards. The dull sound of voices, blended with the darkness and the white noise, would almost have been soothing if not for the constant leaning and shaking in the back of the van. There was a musty smell of some kind clinging to the stuffy air, and presently Ryo realised that it was food.
Naoyuki Ito was whimpering. He struggled with his chains, tore hopelessly at his binds, and spoke words to himself constantly. Nonsensical words, words with no flow or meaning. Ryo stared forward in the gloom.
The van sped along for several seconds, before stopping abruptly. Ryo could hear voices once more, yet one of them he recognised. Searching his mind desperately, he found no face to fit the sound, until the van was speeding away again.
With a sudden curse, Ryo clenched his teeth. Damn it! He was too late! He had just had his chance, and he had missed it!
They had just passed the security guard checkpoint, and the guard had waved them through with some polite conversation. Banging the wall furiously, Ryo shouted for some help to the outside world, but to what? An empty bus stop, perhaps, as the van pulled away from New Yokosuka harbour.
==
"Last seen at..."
Gui Zhang was not a note-taker. His training, mental as well as physical, was thorough. However, given the situation, and it's importance of detail, Gui Zhang could trust no one, and that included his memory. His smart black book laid in his hand, he scribbled the facts he had so far gathered with his questions. Anxious to retain his pride, he took notes only after each conversation. Now standing in a quiet alley, he clicked his pen shut and replaced the book smoothly into his inside pocket.
Striding out towards the lunch stand, Gui Zhang sighed through thinned lips as he approached the striped edges of the harbour. He'd asked everyone who'd know, and this method was getting him nowhere. His father's guidance echoed in his mind. Words rather than actions... and yet he yearned for some occurrence, some solid lead through some forced admission... a pinned- down gang member, writhing and moaning as the Angels are wont to do when alone... spilling the story and begging for mercy. Human waste, Gui Zhang reflected with contempt.
He sighed for a second time as he viewed the vast ship looming before him. The sky was leadening, drawing in on the busy scene below it. The cast of a line could be heard further down, as one of the fishermen tried his luck once more in the swirling, dirty abyss of water below him, drawing his line slowly back as it landed near the rusted hull of the ship. Gui Zhang's eyes surveyed the moody scene, before spotting a regular close to him.
"Excuse me."
Gui Zhang looked down upon the rounded figure of the man, who turned, a minor irritation quite clear in his manner.
"Yes?"
"I have a question."
Gui Zhang reached for a form in his pocket, acquired from Alpha Trading's files, and pulled it out, unfolding it carefully and holding it at the level of the man's view. On it were Ryo's details, his signature, and in the top right hand corner, a small black and white photograph portrait of Ryo himself.
"Have you seen this man, here, or anywhere around here?"
Gui Zhang allowed the other to look more closely at the photo, but did not extend his courtesy to handing the paper over. Squinting, the jacketed figure lowered his baseball cap down on his head, his thin white beard skimming upon the breeze, and made a long, hard study of the face. Finally, he repositioned himself upright with a groan, rubbed his back, and shook his head slowly.
"Can't say that I have."
"Well," replied Gui Zhang, clutching at straws by now, "then, have you noticed anything unusual?"
The round man considered this. Gripping a red flask in his right hand, which he undid and watched the steam rise from, he replied at last:
"Not so unusual. There was talk of a deal going on among the Mad Angels. I can't remember. Some kind of deal, or something like that, soon. Long... Zha, I think they called it. But no, not strange, as such."
Gui Zhang nodded. He knew about this.
"Well, thankyou for your time," he said with more boredom than he'd intended. He turned, saw a worker, and walked. This was going nowhere.
==
"But why?"
Naoyuki choked on his sobs at Ryo's question. It was not easy to question him; he was in a state of sheer terror, a terror that engulfed him and cut off his breathing. He retched for several seconds, losing nothing, and then returned to the frantic breathing of his panic attack. Ryo was determined not to let his friend go into spasms.
"I had to - had to do it," said Ito, coughing violently. "I was friends with - friends with some guys. In the gang. They weren't so bad, Ryo," he said, turning in the darkness to see his face.
There was a bang and a jump as the van careered over a speed bump, followed by more shouting in the front seats. The chains rattled.
"It was a motorcycle thing, to - to get together at the harbour sometimes and race them round. It was harmless fun. They were good... guys, there. Sometimes... I wouldn't, but they would smash some stuff, or steal something, but... they weren't like the ones today."
"How did you get in there?" asked Ryo. "How did you know?"
Ito answered after more quivering and retching. The Angels in the front could doubtlessly hear the sickening noises, yet no taunts or jeers were heard. Even to people as lost as them, thought Ryo, there is no joy in hearing someone killing himself with fear.
"I know a lot of the things they do," he answered chokingly. "I was there last night."
Ryo stared out at the thin strip of light, fading and shining through the door, remembering the old man's death and the passion it had caused him.
"I knew they were after you. When only the big guys were left last night, I hid and listened. You saw too much."
Ryo was silent.
Ito sighed. "They planned all this. I knew."
Ryo hadn't the heart to tell Naoyuki that, whatever he had done, it would have been useless. Instead, he raised his hand, and patted his friend's shoulder in the blackness.
"Thankyou for your friendship. I would have done the same."
There were no more words spoken. Ryo knew the question, and Ito knew the answer. There was only one fate for them. And now all the hope had gone, they were resigned to it. Ryo shut his eyes and played the memories of his life and of his friends. He thought of Nozomi, Fuku-san, and Tom, but most of all, and always present there, was his father. The memories he played now were faded, rose tinted, and distant.
The van shook. The metal chains clinked again.
I'm sorry, father. For failing you.
The van engine started. With a roar and a flurry of revs the metal sides began to vibrate, and in the darkness the chains rattled and clanked. There was a short burst of voices heard through the wall from the front seats, where the two mid-ranking Angels members were perched, and one comment that filtered through the noise was "You'll hurt the gearbox!"
With a lurch, the vehicle sprang forward amid more heated chatter from the front seats. Ryo struggled to maintain balance as his companion tumbled backwards. The dull sound of voices, blended with the darkness and the white noise, would almost have been soothing if not for the constant leaning and shaking in the back of the van. There was a musty smell of some kind clinging to the stuffy air, and presently Ryo realised that it was food.
Naoyuki Ito was whimpering. He struggled with his chains, tore hopelessly at his binds, and spoke words to himself constantly. Nonsensical words, words with no flow or meaning. Ryo stared forward in the gloom.
The van sped along for several seconds, before stopping abruptly. Ryo could hear voices once more, yet one of them he recognised. Searching his mind desperately, he found no face to fit the sound, until the van was speeding away again.
With a sudden curse, Ryo clenched his teeth. Damn it! He was too late! He had just had his chance, and he had missed it!
They had just passed the security guard checkpoint, and the guard had waved them through with some polite conversation. Banging the wall furiously, Ryo shouted for some help to the outside world, but to what? An empty bus stop, perhaps, as the van pulled away from New Yokosuka harbour.
==
"Last seen at..."
Gui Zhang was not a note-taker. His training, mental as well as physical, was thorough. However, given the situation, and it's importance of detail, Gui Zhang could trust no one, and that included his memory. His smart black book laid in his hand, he scribbled the facts he had so far gathered with his questions. Anxious to retain his pride, he took notes only after each conversation. Now standing in a quiet alley, he clicked his pen shut and replaced the book smoothly into his inside pocket.
Striding out towards the lunch stand, Gui Zhang sighed through thinned lips as he approached the striped edges of the harbour. He'd asked everyone who'd know, and this method was getting him nowhere. His father's guidance echoed in his mind. Words rather than actions... and yet he yearned for some occurrence, some solid lead through some forced admission... a pinned- down gang member, writhing and moaning as the Angels are wont to do when alone... spilling the story and begging for mercy. Human waste, Gui Zhang reflected with contempt.
He sighed for a second time as he viewed the vast ship looming before him. The sky was leadening, drawing in on the busy scene below it. The cast of a line could be heard further down, as one of the fishermen tried his luck once more in the swirling, dirty abyss of water below him, drawing his line slowly back as it landed near the rusted hull of the ship. Gui Zhang's eyes surveyed the moody scene, before spotting a regular close to him.
"Excuse me."
Gui Zhang looked down upon the rounded figure of the man, who turned, a minor irritation quite clear in his manner.
"Yes?"
"I have a question."
Gui Zhang reached for a form in his pocket, acquired from Alpha Trading's files, and pulled it out, unfolding it carefully and holding it at the level of the man's view. On it were Ryo's details, his signature, and in the top right hand corner, a small black and white photograph portrait of Ryo himself.
"Have you seen this man, here, or anywhere around here?"
Gui Zhang allowed the other to look more closely at the photo, but did not extend his courtesy to handing the paper over. Squinting, the jacketed figure lowered his baseball cap down on his head, his thin white beard skimming upon the breeze, and made a long, hard study of the face. Finally, he repositioned himself upright with a groan, rubbed his back, and shook his head slowly.
"Can't say that I have."
"Well," replied Gui Zhang, clutching at straws by now, "then, have you noticed anything unusual?"
The round man considered this. Gripping a red flask in his right hand, which he undid and watched the steam rise from, he replied at last:
"Not so unusual. There was talk of a deal going on among the Mad Angels. I can't remember. Some kind of deal, or something like that, soon. Long... Zha, I think they called it. But no, not strange, as such."
Gui Zhang nodded. He knew about this.
"Well, thankyou for your time," he said with more boredom than he'd intended. He turned, saw a worker, and walked. This was going nowhere.
==
"But why?"
Naoyuki choked on his sobs at Ryo's question. It was not easy to question him; he was in a state of sheer terror, a terror that engulfed him and cut off his breathing. He retched for several seconds, losing nothing, and then returned to the frantic breathing of his panic attack. Ryo was determined not to let his friend go into spasms.
"I had to - had to do it," said Ito, coughing violently. "I was friends with - friends with some guys. In the gang. They weren't so bad, Ryo," he said, turning in the darkness to see his face.
There was a bang and a jump as the van careered over a speed bump, followed by more shouting in the front seats. The chains rattled.
"It was a motorcycle thing, to - to get together at the harbour sometimes and race them round. It was harmless fun. They were good... guys, there. Sometimes... I wouldn't, but they would smash some stuff, or steal something, but... they weren't like the ones today."
"How did you get in there?" asked Ryo. "How did you know?"
Ito answered after more quivering and retching. The Angels in the front could doubtlessly hear the sickening noises, yet no taunts or jeers were heard. Even to people as lost as them, thought Ryo, there is no joy in hearing someone killing himself with fear.
"I know a lot of the things they do," he answered chokingly. "I was there last night."
Ryo stared out at the thin strip of light, fading and shining through the door, remembering the old man's death and the passion it had caused him.
"I knew they were after you. When only the big guys were left last night, I hid and listened. You saw too much."
Ryo was silent.
Ito sighed. "They planned all this. I knew."
Ryo hadn't the heart to tell Naoyuki that, whatever he had done, it would have been useless. Instead, he raised his hand, and patted his friend's shoulder in the blackness.
"Thankyou for your friendship. I would have done the same."
There were no more words spoken. Ryo knew the question, and Ito knew the answer. There was only one fate for them. And now all the hope had gone, they were resigned to it. Ryo shut his eyes and played the memories of his life and of his friends. He thought of Nozomi, Fuku-san, and Tom, but most of all, and always present there, was his father. The memories he played now were faded, rose tinted, and distant.
The van shook. The metal chains clinked again.
I'm sorry, father. For failing you.