Ante-Mortem
By: Wildfire Sky
Whoa. Even I didn't expect this chapter to take so long for me to update. I don't know what happened to me. Please accept my sincerest apologies for my lateness and enjoy the story. Unfortunately, the ending is slowly coming closer and I have yet to decide on whether or not to make a sequel...
A/N: Some of you might notice I mention rain and darkness and such. Yes, it is still nighttime at the beginning of this chapter, but don't worry, morning will come around. Just, don't forget, they're in the middle of a storm here...
Ante-Mortem
Chapter Twenty-Two
Takeshi grunted heavily as he was thrown down on to the hard, cold floor of a warehouse, a heavy foot descending on top of his back, preventing ay chance of escape. Not that he would make one. He lay silently, finding no reason to lift his head for the temporary blindness that the cloth forced upon him. Instead he focused on the rank smells of dead fish and sweat to keep himself from doing anything that might endanger his life further.
The trip had been mercifully short, despite the random violent acts his captors took upon themselves to inflict on his already abused flesh, and the rain wasn't much of a concern from the beginning, his clothing already soaked from the sewers. Tagasuki had put up more of a fight than he had, ignorant to the fact that they'd been outnumbered three to one. He kept spouting on about how he was the leader of one of the greatest yakuzas in Japan and they'd be sorry. Of course, they'd ignored him.
Being a cop, Takeshi knew when to fight and when to back down, especially when dealing with gangs...especially when dealing with this particular gang. Although the night had been dark, he'd recognized them from their sleeveless shirts, tattooed arms and faces, and their pale blue eyes.
The department classified them as "moon runners", gangs who only showed their faces at night, preferring to remain as a pack in some hidden dwelling that was unknown to any but their own. Secrecy was the base of their cult, or society as they thought...secrecy and undying loyalty. Once a man became a moon runner, it was a life time membership, renewed with random, bloody killing that proved your worth. Having no one else, moon runners depended on each other, and their sleepers, for protection and basic survival. This extreme unity made them dangerous to any who happened to stumble upon their home.
Like he unwillingly had.
Remaining limp so as not to attract unwanted attention, Takeshi patiently waited for the next move. Tagasuki had mercifully gone quiet, encouraged to silence by a few well placed hits from his escorts. Now, the only noise was the low, heavy voices of their captors and the swishing of boots over dirt. The situation remained the same, the long minutes dragging on. Finally, just as Takeshi's mind was starting to drift, the creaking of a heavy metal door opening drew his attention. The other feet feel still and a new pair took up the relinquished space, coming down in smooth, confident strides.
"So, this is the worm that entered my territory." The voice was scratchy, as if the man's throat had been rubbed with sandpaper. "Another government bitch by the looks of it. I never would have imagined that a cop would have the balls to try and track me down again...and with no weapons or reinforcements!" A large, calloused hand forced Takeshi's head up, "Do you have some sort of death wish?"
Takeshi remained silent. He was in no position for heroics and wasn't about to provoke the man. He needed to concentrate on finding a way out of this knee-deep mess. A sudden vicious kick to his side tore Takeshi from his thoughts as he lurched from the man's grip and collapsed to the floor, choking on the dust and mold that invaded his mouth and nose.
"You were asked a question, and I suggest you answer." The new voice was a low growl, no doubt a lackey of some sort from the way he played off the first, "I find it rude whenever some one doesn't answer Nakotou-sama."
In an instant, Takeshi completely forgot about choking, his breath stolen away from him. Nakotou! Shi Nakotou! Oh, God, was he in deep. His body suddenly began to quiver involuntarily, fear now the dominate emotion flowing through him. His anxiety only spiked ass Tagasuki decided to put his two cents in.
"Nakotou! Thank Kami, there's at least one man with some sense around here."
Takeshi snapped his head in the direction of Tagasuki's voice; silently pleading with him to be quiet but with no avail.
"Nakotou, you do remember me, don't you?"
Instead of answering Tagasuki's question, Nakotou simply said: "Shut him up." Instantly, his dogs were on top of Tagasuki, the fat man's screams mingled with the sound of fists and boots hitting flesh and bone. Takeshi listened to Nakotou's heavy footsteps as the man slowly circled him like a prowling wolf waiting to strike. A tiny shiver rolled down the captive's back.
Not only was Nakotou the leader of an infamous, and very dangerous, gang of moon-runners, he was the self-proclaimed lord of every syndicate in Japan, a title he'd rightfully earned through his vicious, merciless assassinations of rival yakuza leaders who didn't readily accept his control or agree with his beliefs. They'd been a series of horrible mass murders scattered throughout Tokyo, Osaka, and regions of Sapporo, murders that Takeshi came to know quite well, being one of the lead investigating officers.
He'd studied Nakotou's picture and profile...lived with them for almost two years as he tried to find this extremely eluding snake of a man. They'd met once, face-to-face...or rather, gun-to-face, Takeshi being on the wrong end of a gold trimmed Desert Eagle, and for reasons he may never know, the most vicious and dangerous killer in Japan had lowered his gun, smiled, and walked away.
A dark feeling deep in his gut told him that he wouldn't be so lucky this time.
"You...you look familiar..." Nakotou was speaking again, his tone short and clipped, as though pondering. "Have we met before?"
Takeshi stiffened. Despite the amount of time that had passed, Nakotou might still recognize him. If that was the case, he was as good as dead. Sure, that one moment of interaction between them had been in the dead of night in the middle of a rice field, there was still the underlying fear that Nakotou had gotten a good look at him...at least enough to identify him.
"Take off the blindfold, let me see his eyes."
Takeshi threw his body away from the pair of hands that touched his face, kicking at the floor in a panic for escape.
No...no this can't be happening...he'll know who I am...
Another pair of hands grabbed him underneath his arms, hoisting him up into a sitting position and giving him a single, hard shake. "I wouldn't try that again, boy. Next time I might accidentally snap your neck."
The other hands were on his again, reaching around his head to untie the knot. Takeshi snapped his eyes shut, a silent prayer running through his head.
"Open your eyes."
"I'd rather not." The words were out before Takeshi could stop them. He was quickly cuffed by a hand, the order repeated. For fear of being struck again, Takeshi slowly opened his eyes and looked death in the face.
Nakotou had aged considerably since he'd last seen him. During the murders, Nakotou was nothing more than a youngster, a handsome, almost babyish face gracing his features. He'd been thin and lanky, relying on his quick thinking and group of bigger, stronger friends to avoid physical confrontations. Now, Nakotou had filled out, muscles clearly defined on his bare chest, tattoos decorated the once clear skin. His dark hair had been bleached and buzzed almost to the skin, his black eyes now a pale blue. Nakotou's once beautiful face now claimed a thin, disfiguring scar across his right eye and over his nose, a shame in its own context.
Takeshi's stomach tightened as he stared at the slightly taller man. Nakotou was watching him as well, studying his face and nodding to himself.
"That's what I thought…" Nakotou said with a smile, "I remember you. You're the pig that tried to track me down. Pity that you never caught me, isn't it?"
A small wave a broken pride washed over Takeshi. "As I remember it, I did find you."
"And ended up with a gun in your face." Nakotou's smile melted into a confident smirk, "Don't give yourself credit you don't deserve. As I recall, you were the lead investigator weren't you? How many men did you send to their deaths? Ten? Twenty?"
Takeshi glowered, "Twenty-four…twenty-four good men."
"Apparently, they weren't good enough."
Takeshi resisted the urge to rush forward and attack the smirking bastard, clenching his teeth in anger. "Damn you…" he forced out with a snarl, "It was because of you that they died…you bribed him…"
Nakotou laughed, "Bribed? Try bought. He always was a weak man…a pathetic man, truly. But he's serving a much greater purpose now…deep sea fishing, captain of his own vessel. Provided by myself, of course."
Takeshi snorted, "He was the best police officer in Tokyo, until you got to him. Now he's nowhere to be found."
"Except that I do know where he is. At this very moment in fact. You can let him go, now." Nakotou gestured at his men and they immediately dropped Takeshi, stepping away from him and moving to where Tagasuki lay motionless in a gathering pool of blood. "Come with me, officer, we have much to discuss."
Hesitating for only a moment and figuring that there was nothing better to do; Takeshi limped after Nakotou and into the dark warehouse. They ascended a steep stair ladder and onto the catwalk high above the ground floor, entering a small office near the back of the large building. Nakotou gestured to the chairs in front of a large, expensive looking desk.
"Please have a seat; I'll be with you in a moment." Nakotou moved into a side room as Takeshi slid into one of the wooden chairs, looking around. The room was almost completely empty of any personal affection…or anything for that matter. The only furniture in the small room was the desk, and the chairs, the one behind made from red leather, the only subtle sign of Nakotou's legendary wealth.
Takeshi was uncomfortable, scared really, and worried that at any moment Nakotou's entire army would come bursting through the doors and light up his dumb ass.
Yea, you are dumb…you're sitting here in a yakuza leader's office like you're having a tea party. What the hell is wrong with you?
He was scared shitless, that's what. He did realize he was in the office of an extremely dangerous man, and he did realize that at any moment, he could die a horrible, bloody death. What's worse is that happened to Nakotou's victims.
Takeshi shuddered. Being returned to his family after going through a meat grinder didn't sound like fun. Not that he'd feel any of it, but still. His wife would be scarred for life and that was something he could never accept. She was already in constant fear that she'd be called to the medical examiner's station to identify his body, but if he arrived with anything less than a white sheet over his head, there was a good possibility she'd have a heart attack right there.
"I thought I'd asked you to relax, officer."
Takeshi jumped in surprise whipping around to face Nakotou. The man stood behind him, a smooth smile on his face. He was dressed completely now, donning a pair of dark slacks and matching vest, a blood red undershirt and handkerchief topping his fine garb. Had he not know who Nakotou really was, Takeshi might have thought of him as nothing more than a business man if they'd ever pass on the streets. The only thing that would give him away would be his eyes...his scheming blue eyes.
"I suppose you can't relax, can you?" Nakotou said, sitting down in the leather chair and placed his hands on the desk top, the non threatening smile still in place, "Just like a cop. Always on edge whenever they're around so called criminals."
Takeshi frowned, "What do you mean, 'so-called'? You are a criminal...and the worse kind. You kill the guilty and the innocent, just see their blood run."
"Who determines when the innocent are innocent, officer? You...or God? It's impossible for a human being to be pure innocence, not even the Pope is pure innocence. Everyone has a mark on their slate, and mark that's only clean with your acceptance into heaven."
"And you must think you hold the key to it."
Nakotou's smile wavered. "I hold the keys to everything, officer. And that makes me greater than you and God."
"Bastard." Takeshi growled, "Don't you preach to me...I've prayed to God plenty of times in my life and it sure as hell wasn't you that answered me! If you believe that you're so great, then why did you have to murder those syndicate leaders, huh? Wouldn't a God have the power to bend all to his will?"
All emotion dropped from Nakotou's face as he stood, walking over to the panoramic viewing window that overlooked the warehouse floor. It was empty now of his night loving army, the men gone to do whatever raids were necessary on this night. All that was left was Tagasuki's broken and bleeding body lying in a pool of his own blood, unmoving. Takeshi watched Nakotou carefully, waiting for some sort of outward sign of hostility, but both the man's face and stance remained effectively neutral.
Finally, Nakotou spoke, his voice low and careful, "Things aren't going as well as they should, officer. In fact, my leadership is failing."
"Failing?" Takeshi snorted, "I thought you said you were God."
Nakotou's shoulders slumped slightly, "Yes I did. But I meant at one point in my life, I was God. When I choose who lived and who died...I was playing God. That's why I let you live all those years ago. It was my decision. But now, I no longer have that power to control people's lives. Only the faithful strength of those who serve me keep me alive."
Nakotou turned and sat back down at his desk, opening a drawer and reaching inside. Takeshi watched for only a moment before drawing back, primal fear evident on his face at the sight of a powerful Desert Eagle held beneath Nakotou's slim hands. He forced his gaze from the gold trimmed weapon to his captor's face, staring into the piercing blue eyes that held a promise. Of what, Takeshi was hesitant to find out.
"Is...Is that for me?" he managed to say, swallowing the bile that began to force its way up his throat.
Nakotou shrugged. "Perhaps. It all depends on you."
"On me?"
"Yes." Said Nakotou, "You have a choice of whether or not you'll believe what I have to say. Being a cop, you might not trust anything that a convicted criminal has to say, especially not from one whose put a gun in your face in more than one occasion."
Takeshi licked his lips. "If you know I won't believe you, then why haven't you shot me yet?"
"Because I hope that for a moment, you won't think like a cop, but as a lost soul." Nakotou leaned back in his chair, "I know it's a hard thing to do, but you must have an open mind for this. There are few people who know of the organization I belong to, in fact, it's restricted to only those of us who are members. Not even the government knows of our existence except for the ones that must...politicians we've humbly brought into our lives."
Takeshi blinked. "Organization? Are you talking about moon-runners?"
"Goddamn I hate that name." Nakotou spat, glaring at the far wall over Takeshi's ear, "It sounds like it was created by a child... 'moon-runners'...pathetic! And as tasteless as it is, I'm happy to say that moon-runners have little to do with my organization except as hit men. That's why I'm here, to keep our dogs undercontrol and from biting the ankles of our neighbors. No, the purpose of my organization is different from gangs or drug lords. We're here to eradicate the world of all evil, in all shapes and forms, by any means necessary."
"Including virtual genocide?"
"Especially genocide." Nakotou smiled proudly at some inward thought, "Although it was hundreds of years ago, have you ever been told about Adolph Hitler?"
Takeshi snorted. "Hitler? That's nothing but a mother's tale to scare children into being good. They tell their kids to behave or 'Hitler will come at take you away to darkness'. I never believed in that crap."
"It's interesting how the human race with butcher history so they can forget it. Hitler was very much a real man, and very much a tyrant. As much as I would love to, going into his history would take more time than we have. But to give you the gist of it, Hitler committed a mass genocide on the Jews during World War 2, a genocide so great that it made the entire world quake with disgust and anger. It seemed he was out of control, an unreachable monster that not guns could take down.
"It was then that my organization was created. We were ordered to take out Hitler, but make the death look natural...something that even the most experienced doctors would never look closely at. So we poisoned him...poisoned him and drove him insane. The product we used made it seem like a medical condition was slowly eating away at his body, but it wasn't. We killed him, slowly, and took great pleasure in it. Ever since, we've been called on to wipe out whatever great evil comes to plague this Earth, and nothing has ever stood in our way."
Takeshi's eyes fell back on the gun, "So you take out any problems you have, is that it? Is that how you're so successful, kill to succeed?"
Nakotou smiled, "I consider it poetic justice."
"I consider it sick and disgusting." Takeshi shook his head, "Your organization's history is all well and good, but that doesn't explain why I'm in your office, staring down your gun."
Nakotou's smile grew. "It's quite simple really; I want you to help us. I want you to kill that friend of yours. The real killer...the cyborg..."
Takeshi started. "You mean Diablo?"
"The very same." Nakotou winked, spinning the guns towards Takeshi. "I want you to help me rid the Earth of the greatest evil we've known. Black Ghost."
Takeshi's eyes grazed over the gun once more before connection with Nakotou's. "What in the hell is Black Ghost?"
Nakotou laughed.
Pyunma quirked an eyebrow, staring at Captain Sotomo curiously. "So you're after Black Ghost as well, huh? Just like us?"
Sotomo nodded. "I am."
"So, why didn't you tell us this before?"
"The time wasn't right. I needed to get close to you, so I put my men at risk."
Pyunma fell silent.
"I'd known for sometime you were here," Sotomo said leaning back, "In fact I knew that young Joe was a cyborg created by Black Ghost, but I had to put on a front to keep both you and Black Ghost from knowing the truth. I mean, truthfully, would you let a traitor near your ship? I think not."
Pyunma averted his eyes, watching the Captain from his peripheral vision as he pulled out a cigarette a lit it, pulling in deeply before releasing the bluish smoke into the room. "We don't allow smoking in the infirmary."
Sotomo nodded slowly, taking another drag before throwing it to the floor and crushing it with his foot. "Quite understandable. I should have been more aware of your feelings. Not everyone likes a smoker..."
"It's not that," Pyunma said quickly, "But this is a sick bay and it needs to be kept as sterile as possible, including the air."
Sotomo nodded as he raised his arms over his head, stretching. "Of course. But as I was explaining, my organization must be kept secret for the safety of everyone involved in it. Our grunts know only as much as they need to carry out their duties. They don't know our leaders, they don't know our hierarchy, hell, they don't even know our skin color. We put out rumors of course, ridiculous ones that are no where close to the truth, so that if they ever are caught and interrogated, their spouting nothing but truthful lies."
"You must be pretty high up to know all of this." Pyunma said quietly, watching the older man's face.
Sotomo laughed, "Me? Don't be ridiculous. The only contacts that I have with our true leaders are through shadow contacts, men who go all out to conceal their identities. They don't say a word to us, only give us our orders on an encrypted disk and walk away. No questions, no conversations. Sounds pretty elaborate doesn't it?"
"Almost ridiculously so."
"Well, as you know, evil has a cruel way of taken revenge." To Pyunma it seemed that the hard gaze in Sotomo's eyes retreated, leaving him with an almost blank stare, "They don't just go after you...they go after everyone you know..."
Pyunma considered this for a moment before chancing a comment, "It's happened before. Hasn't it?"
Sotomo locked eyes with him briefly before looking away. "Ten years ago, just before I joined, there was a leak in the organization, a mole that was very close to the top of the hierarch. He'd been paid to tip off the police on any illegal activates that we conducted in the name of 'justice'.
"They found one of our branches in Eastern Europe and put on a full frontal assault on the complex. The building was leveled from explosives we'd planted to destroy all evidence and ninety percent of our operatives were killed. The other ten percent managed to get to a hideout and stay there until we could bribe and blackmail enough politicians to get the police off our backs. The worse tragedy in our history. Since then, only the most trusted have any access to our headquarters. Period."
Pyunma nodded to himself, "Sounds pretty extensive to me."
"Money can buy the support of the Gods, my friend." Sotomo stood up and walked over to where Min lay silently, the beeping of his heart monitor the only audible sound. Finally he turned, steeling Pyunma with a hard look.
"Let me give you a bit of advice, 008...it would be your best interest to assist us in this crusade of ours. Now that you know so much there are only two options: assistance or death. My organization know who you are, and since you're cyborgs, it only makes it that more easier to track you down. Help us, 008...do it for the god of everyone."
Pyunma hesitated. "But...you're criminals...I can't help killers of innocent people."
Sotomo's eyes twitched, the only warning Pyunma had before the Captain's gun was shoved in his face, the hammer pulled. Sotomo's voice was hard and deadly when he spoke, the challenge obvious.
"Listen to me, cyborg, there isn't much to this. At this range, I'll pulverize your metal head and every drop of oil or blood or whatever you have in that skull of your will be all over this infirmary. And trust me, there won't be much left for your good doctor to put back together. Get it?"
Pyunma stared back at him. "You're nothing but a criminal. Go ahead and shoot me because I will never aide in anything that will destroy my morals and beliefs."
"A cyborg with a heart..." Sotomo grinned, lowering the gun, "How interesting. I will spare your life for now, but I strongly urge that you reconsider my offer. Talk it over with your comrades and I'll return tomorrow for your answer. Until then, Joe stays with me, as collateral to keep you from scampering off."
Pyunma's eyes narrowed. "You're a coward...keeping our friend hostage obviously give you the advantage. None of us will support a group who threatens people to get their way!"
Sotomo crossed over to the infirmary door, tossing a smile over his shoulder. "No. But maybe they will support a group who has the same goals as you. Think it over."
Before Pyunma could respond, the door was closing behind Sotomo's retreating form.
Ok, there you are! Again I apologize for the extreme delay, but I'm gonna stop making promises I can't keep. The one I will keep is that I will complete this story. Nothing irks me more than authors who don't complete their work. "Discontinued" should be illegal in the writing world. Either you write it, or get the hell off the net. Simple as that. I might not update as often as you'd like, but I will finish.
Oh and one other thing...WE ADVANCED! My theatre group has now advanced to Area in Laredo Texas, so if you live there, please come and see it! I'm not sure where, but you can find out. Our play is "Noises Off" and I'm the electrician (I got honorable mention all-star cast. Hurrah!). Please come and see it!
THANKS FOR ALL YOUR REVIEWS AND SUPPORT!
WATCH OUT FOR MY NEXT CHAPTER!
