Ch 38

V 1.5

(Author note - this first section is Keitaro's POV and mental monologue. Further notes at the end of the chapter.)

Hinata-sou Dormitory
Hintata City, Kanagawa Prefecture
Metro Tokyo, Japan
January 2
just before daybreak
(five months after story start)

It's funny how one phrase carelessly spoken by a person can reopen the door to memories you would much rather keep buried.

"…there was no one shooting at us this time…"

I know that Sarah was not being careless or flippant with her statement the day before. As far as I could tell, she was handling her memories of her experiences in Thailand relatively well...as well as a young girl who had been kidnapped to be sold into sexual slavery could handle it, but Sarah was a tough little girl. I just keep waiting for cracks to show through her mental walls, for her façade to turn brittle. The problem was it was my mental walls that showed cracks, manifesting themselves in my dreams.

Thank the gods that I never had one of my nightmares when I would spend the night with Miyuki-chan and Natsumi-chan, or when Kana-chan would sneak into my futon in my room when I was asleep. I do not know exactly what happens when I am dreaming, but at the end of the dreams I would be completely frozen, struggling to move before violently jerking awake.

The other thing that occurs when I have my dreams is that I cannot go back to sleep easily. Not that I really want to; the one time I did manage to fall asleep after a nightmare resulted in a replay of the horror I had seen earlier that night, the blood on my hands, the agonized cries and screams of the wounded, and the accusing eyes of the recently dead.

Sitting up on the futon, I could feel the sweat on my brow as well as the heavy pounding of my heart in my chest. Catching my breath, I slowly tossed my blanket to the side and rolled at first to my knees, then my feet. Looking over to the side at the alarm clock, I could see that it was fifteen minutes until dawn.

After taking a quick shower, I went over to the kitchen and brewed a large mug of tea. Carrying the mug with me, I walked over to the picture glass windows of the living room and looked out toward Tokyo Bay, where the sun had started making its way above the water, the dark navy of the night sky gradually changing from purple to red to orange to yellow. Sipping at the mug, I could not help but think about the other times I had watched the sun rise over the ocean, most recently when I had my ill-fated duel with Motoko-san. But then I thought of all the other times I had seen the sun rise while I was overseas, when I was laying on the ground behind a scoped rifle, waiting for trouble to show itself.

Trouble that we were not ready for when it finally did appear.

Todai Archeological Excavation Site
Koh Tao Island, Surat Thani Province,
Gulf of Thailand
Early July
just past daybreak
(two months before story start)

Keitaro scanned from one side of the bay to another, carefully moving the binoculars at his eyes so that he would not look through them directly at the sun, an experience he had no interest in repeating after the first painful time. Laying on a poncho spread on the ground on his stomach, with his elbows braced on the ground to hold the binoculars to his face, the young ronin tried to notice anything out of place compared to the uncounted number times he had previously looked. With his position carefully covered and concealed just below the crest of the highest hill on the south side of the island bay, Keitaro had a clear line of sight from the work camp and dig site, a collection of small tents around a larger one 50 yards in from the furthest edge of the bay and the small stream feeding into it on his left side to the rocky shore and cliffs bordering the bay to his front, and the somewhat narrow opening to the bay and the ancient looking buoy marking the entrance to the right.

Finding nothing amiss, Keitaro lowered the binocs from his face and rubbed his eyes. He had come up to this sniper's perch two hours ago when he had relieved the previous guard on duty, carefully announcing himself on the handheld radio first. Operating under the theory that if the camp was to be attacked it would be in the middle of the night, between midnight and dawn, the guard shifts were staggered so that the guard on duty was relatively awake and observant at the most dangerous time, the hour or so before daybreak. The guard was stationed away from the central camp but within either voice or radio range, as one of the other guards had proclaimed that more sentries had died staring into a campfire than actually doing their jobs and sounding the alarm before they died.

Looking down at his cheap Timex wristwatch, Keitaro saw that it was almost six in the morning, time for the first radio check in of the day. The radio was left turned on at the base camp but no calls were made after bed time except when the relief guard was on his way to the sniper perch. Pulling the handheld to his face, Keitaro clicked the transmit button on the cord that ran from his radio earpiece to the transmitter. "Ronin to Base, Ronin to Base, come in."

After a few moments there was a response, a British accent apparent even through the tinny speaker of the earpiece. "Sword to Ronin, we copy you, go for traffic." Gareth 'Gaz' Shaw, code-named 'Sword' for the flaming weapon embroidered on his old unit patch, was a former SAS trooper from Great Britain in his late thirties, medically retired after being shot in the chest with a large caliber round on a mission that he could not talk about. Prompt medical care had saved his life, but he had lost his right lung from severe trauma and had been invalidated from the service once he had recovered as much as he was able to. In his own words, Gaz was no longer able to run with the kiddies, but as a security contractor for hire he was still able to pull a trigger if need be, and to teach the youngsters some of his hard-won wisdom.

Keitaro spoke into the radio again. "Ronin to Sword, top of the hour check-in, negative visuals, negative contacts at this time."

The radio paused for a long moment before the voice came again. "Affirm Ronin, negative visuals and contacts copied. Ronin, prepare for fire support mission."

"Copy fire support mission." After arriving on the island site, the two older contractors had given Keitaro some further instruction on military matters and weapon usage, including long distance rifle shooting. On occasion, the young ronin was tested by the others with simulated targets.

Moving the binoculars to the other side of the poncho and sleeping pad he was laying on, Keitaro pulled over a SVD Dragunov sniper rifle and set the handguard on a sandbag before him, re-verifying that the scope adjustments were at its normal presets. Checking to make sure a round was in the chamber and that the magazine was full even though he had done so at the beginning of the shift, he tucked the stock into his shoulder and peered through the optical sight and saw that it was clear. Clicking the radio mike to voice activation mode, Keitaro said "Ronin ready for fire support, call your tangos," using the code name for targets.

The reply came a few moments later. "Ronin, stand by for target designation. Will call three tangos, you will have ten seconds from target ID to complete engagement. Stand by…" The voice on the radio went silent for what felt like an eternity before it spoke again. "Target one is approximately 80 meters north-east of camp, tango with AK on the ground behind a pink and white bush. Fire at will."

Keitaro immediately swiveled the Dragunov to the left, finding the white smoke of the camp cook fire and tracing his way up. Almost immediately picking up on the white painted steel plate with a crude AK stenciled on it behind a bougainvillea bush, he put the crosshairs of the scope on target, then raised the intersecting lines so the target was behind the hash mark for three hundred meters. The Russian rifle and scope were zeroed for two hundred yards, so Keitaro had to compensate for the bullet drop the additional almost one hundred meters of range would produce. Moving the crosshairs the tiniest bit to the right to compensate for the light ocean wind, Keitaro began to apply pressure to the trigger, whispering "On target… Firing…" into his radio mike just as the sear on the rifle released, a moment before the ten seconds lapsed.

The Dragunov bucked against his shoulder, the Russian 7.62mm round exiting the suppressor attached to the end of the barrel milliseconds later. The silencer muffled the sound of the round discharging in the rifle, but did nothing to reduce the crack of the bullet travelling at supersonic speeds. Still, it would require a skilled and observant person to determine where the rifle had been fired. After a couple of moments of flight-time, the round impacted the steel plate with a loud clang! knocking the target over. Keitaro murmured a somewhat unnecessary "Tango down" to confirm the fact.

"Tango two is just below the military crest of Hill Top Bravo, target mortar tube behind an outcropping, wait for fire command." Keitaro quickly moved the rifle back so it was pointed in front of him before focusing on the hill-top in question. The security contractors had given names to different geological features around their camp to make it easier to distinguish between them, and not have to say something like "the third hill to the right" or some such. Looking at the top of the named hill, Keitaro started looking at the level where if a person carefully stood, they would be as far up the hill as they could be without outlining themselves in the sky at the top. After a couple of long moments, Keitaro was able to pick out the dark red steel target with a painted white mortar and sighted in on it, compensating for the increased distance again, about three hundred and fifty meters now. "On Target." Controlling his breathing so that the slight movement of his chest would not throw off the shot, the young man took up the slack on the rifle's trigger, staging it so it would only take another couple of pounds of pressure for the weapon to fire and waited. After what seemed like a full minute but was probably fifteen seconds he finally heard the words "Send It" over his earpiece. Carefully pulling the trigger, the round fired and the bullet knocked over the plate with a loud "clang!" as well. "Tango down." Keitaro reported again.

"Hold for last target…Stand By…" Keitaro waited for a few moments before a frantic transmission came through his ear piece. "Emergency fire, last tango is the channel buoy, hit the top and ring the bell! Suppressive fire until solid hit, nownownow!" Keitaro blinked at this last target even as he wheeled the Dragunov around and sighted in. The ancient sea buoy was not designed to be a target, although it was in fairly good shape in spite of things. Worse yet, the buoy was moving in two dimensions, both up and down and side to side, as it floated in the water, and the strongest wind in the area was exactly at that spot, as the towering cliffs on either side funneled the sea breeze, not to mention that the range was almost 800 meters, near the maximum effective for the rifle.

"Firing!" Locking on the proper hashmark and chevron and giving himself a decent lead to account for the wind, Keitaro squeezed the trigger, carefully watching through the scope for where the first round impacted. Firing a second shot after moving the scope so the chevron and hashmark where he had seen the round impact was now over the target, he saw that the range and windage was now correct, the only thing left to correct was the movement of the target, as the round had impacted over the buoy as it was at its lowest movement. Taking a deep breath, Keitaro let half of it out as he carefully squeezed the trigger to just before its tripping point, carefully timing the movement of the buoy and lining up the shot so he was aiming two feet above the target as it reached its lowest point and the trigger pressure broke.

With a crack, the round fired and the bullet sped outward, reaching the target just as it had reversed itself and reached its highest point of movement. The bullet smacked into the welded plate above the corroded brass bell, the force of the impact sufficient even at that range to knock the buoy over to where it was almost on its side before moving back up into its proper position.

Keitaro blink-blinked. He had not expected to hit the target so quickly. Hell, with all the other factors it was fair to say that hitting the buoy was next to impossible for someone with his apparent skill level. Blinking one more time, Keitaro finally whispered "Tango down" into his radio mike.

"Bloody hell, mate, you did it! You did it in three shots!" There was a short laugh on the earpiece. "You should see Drago stomping around all pissed off."

Keitaro flipped the radio switch back to the push-to-talk position before replying. He had a feeling why his Russian colleague was upset. "How much did you win from Drago?"

"Fifty quid and the next trip to town." Keitaro could almost hear the grin on the Briton's voice. Being in charge of the weekly resupply trip was actually a bigger deal than the money was. Normally the two senior contractors alternated being in charge of trips, with Keitaro tagging along to assist. When Gaz went to town, he could easily talk to the younger man about his experiences in both the military and security contractor worlds. However, when the Russian went to town he would pretty much stay silent throughout the hour and a half long boat trip, and once making port at the town of Thong Sala on the neighboring island of Koh Pha Ngan, toss the supply list to Keitaro and wander off, presumably to his favorite bar. Gaz had been in charge of the last trip, but winning this bet would let him go again this week.

"What exactly did you bet on?" After letting go of the transmit switch, Keitaro pressed the magazine release on the sniper rifle and pulled the partially depleted mag out, replacing it with a full mag from an ammo bag lying next to him.

"Drago bet that it would take you a full mag at least to hit the buoy, I bet that it would take you five shots. Whoever was closest won. In this case it was me."

"Thanks for your confidence in my shooting skills, Sword." Keitaro was only partially sarcastic. That last shot had needed a healthy dose of luck, as the big Russian had been right about normally needing a full mag of ten rounds to get close to ranging the target, calling the wind, and adjusting for the target's movement. "I just used that splash trick with the scope and that cut my time in half, at least."

"Good to hear that you remember your lessons, young padawan. Gather your gear and come on down to eat, breakfast is ready. Oh, and you may have someone waiting to meet you along the way."

"Solid copy Sword, thanks. Coming down." Releasing the radio switch, Keitaro gathered the loose gear around him and packed it in his ammo bag, slinging it over his shoulder and back, the pad and poncho rolled up and tied to the bottom of the bag. Pushing himself to his feet, the young ronin checked to make sure the Dragunov was on safe before slinging the rifle off his left shoulder with the muzzle down, his left hand holding both straps in place while his right hand was free to draw his Glock from his hip holster if need be.

Brushing his bare knees below his cargo shorts clean of dirt and debris, Keitaro flicked at his t-shirt to dust it as well before starting to walk down the faint dirt path leading to the base camp. While he was technically still on guard duty, he was not required to stay at the sniper's post, and in fact was encouraged to walk around, while armed of course. It was up to the guard on duty what weapons they would carry, but when Keitaro was off the hilltop, he would carry an M4 select-fire carbine with a bag full of magazines. The Dragunov and their other spare weapons were kept locked up in an old footlocker secured with a combination lock that only the guards and Seta could open.

Reaching the bottom of the hill, Keitaro moved off the path and started to make his way through the brush as quietly as possible. Considering he was not trying to be completely silent, the young ronin did a passible job of sneaking through the scrub. It only had to be for a few dozen yards, since he was approaching the expected ambush point from behind, the lone figure crouching behind a bush unaware of his approach.

Slowing down even further, the sound of Keitaro's boots moving through the knee-high grass was barely a whisper, indistinguishable from the wind doing the same thing. Finally he came to a halt, a meter and a half away from the blonde teen crouched down with what looked to be a water balloon in her hand, the girl quietly giggling manically to herself.

Standing there for a long moment and thinking of all the things he could do to the teen to startle her, ranging from abruptly screaming, to yanking on one of her blonde pigtails to doing the infamous Wet Willy 'lick your finger and jam it in an unsuspecting victim's ear' trick, Keitaro decided to be nice to the girl… relatively speaking.

"Sarah-chan, time for breakfast," Keitaro said in a normal voice after stepping up one more pace, so he was within arms-reach of the unsuspecting girl. The results were as expected: the blonde girl gave a short shriek and jerked wildly to her feet, the water balloon flying up and out of her hands before falling to the ground and rupturing, barely missing her sandals.

"ARRGG! You jerk, you scared me to death!" Sarah McDougal whirled around and stared daggers at the older male, who was looking back at her with a decidedly unamused expression on his face.

"That is the least worst thing I could have done, Sarah-chan. You attempted to startle someone who is armed. What would have happened if it had been someone who goes around at the ready like Yuri-san?" Keitaro replied evenly. He considered flicking her forehead like Haru-chan sometimes did to him, but given her temperament, there was a good chance she would respond by biting his fingers off and shoving them in an unpleasant place.

Sarah managed not to shudder. Yuri Orlov, call sign Drago, was a former Russian Federation Spetsnaz soldier now working as a free-lance security contractor for the expedition. Yuri did not talk much – in fact when Sarah had first met the man she had though that he was mute – but he was the scariest man she had ever met. With icy blue-grey eyes in his narrow face and dark hair buzzed down into stubble, always wearing camo pants and a red and white striped tank top that showed off his heavily muscled and tattooed arms and shoulders, he looked like a modern day Viking crossed with a biker from back home. But even the bikers didn't go around with a gun belt buckled around his waist laden with knives and ammo, an AK-74 literally held in hand or close to it. In fact, the only time his rifle was not in hand was when it was leaning up against him as he sat down and ate.

"Like I said, time to go eat, Sarah-chan. You go first." Keitaro waved ahead of himself, and Sarah pouted and managed not to stomp her feet. Grumbling under her breath, the young teen stormed off toward the camp, the ronin silently following behind her.

Later that evening

"Ohayo, Mr. Part-timer." Smiling, Noriyasu Seta offered his subordinate a large steaming mug. Of the four men currently sitting around the camp fire eating dinner only the two Japanese men would drink tea while the other men would drink black coffee. Being former military, they needed large amounts of caffeine to function in the morning, even if tea was part of their home culture.

"Domo, Sensei." Keitaro thanked his boss before taking a careful sip from the tin mug. The beverage was black tea, brewed strong with rough brown sugar added for kick. "How much did you get done today?"

"Quite a bit. I've finished clearing the altar area of the temple, and found some more small trinkets. I'm going to start going over the walls with brushes and the UV lights and see what might have been painted there. I don't really expect to find much more at this site, most of the sacrificial items were organic, and with the climate and moisture here, they're pretty much gone by now." Seta sipped at his own mug of tea.

Keitaro nodded in response. Unless the climate of a site would lend toward preserving organic material i.e. flesh and bones from sacrifices, both animal and rarely human, the only artifacts that were to be found at sites like this were items made of stone and pottery clay, with the odd dried out bone or wooden item if the area was not constantly being immersed in rain or sea water. This site was almost exclusively the former, with the largest items found being small bowls and plates, almost all of which were painted with either the signature turtle motif or other sea images. While the Todai professor would go over each inch of ground in the cave with a brush and what was essentially a giant wooden toothpick to remove the dirt and stones around the altar, Keitaro would take any recovered artifacts and try to reconstruct them as well as he could before taking pictures and cataloguing them. The altar itself was in the shape and size of a giant sea turtle, head extended and looking out of the shallow cave it was located in and toward the lagoon and the sea beyond.

And thinking of giant sea turtles, Keitaro turned his head and looked at the most unlikely of their little group. The young islander girl was sitting cross-legged on the ground, eating from a chipped blue metal bowl while her turtle friend lay next to her, contentedly munching on some tender palm fronds. After filling his own bowl with boiled rice and chunks of roast pork, Keitaro sat down between the turtle and Gaz, who was also eating with Yuri sitting on the other side of him. Seta sat down with just his mug of tea next to an oddly silent Sarah, who was sitting next to the other girl.

Keitaro had at first not known what to think of the youngest of their merry band of misfits; Nyamo Namo was slight of build and height, the top of her head barely clearing his shoulder. With darkly tanned skin and waist length unevenly cut black hair, always dressed in ragged jean cut offs and sleeveless shirts, the girl looked more like a kid from one of the villages that dotted the coastline of Thailand rather than the teenaged Pacific Islander that she really was. One thing that lead to the appearance of being so young was her habit of rarely speaking. That was not to say that she could not speak, or that she had problems doing do, Nyamo just had very little to say. On the other hand, she appeared to understand any language she heard.

One night after dinner, Yuri had been cleaning his AK-74 rifle and was cussing to himself under his breath in Russian, apparently having forgotten some needed tool. Slipping away unnoticed, Nyamo reappeared at his side, holding out the needed miniature screwdriver in her hand without saying a word. The big Russian had eyed her for a long moment before taking the tool from her, a gruff 'Spasibo' (thanks) his only response. His eyes flicked back to her when he heard the faint 'Nyezashta' (that's all right) as she walked away.

Nyamo had sailed up to their little encampment a couple of hours after Seta, Keitaro and the two mercs had arrived on the island. The men had barely unloaded the old World War II Higgins boat they had arrived in when a single mast sail boat, not much bigger than a row boat, appeared at the bay entrance. A few minutes later, the boat beached itself on the sand and a young ragamuffin jumped out before calmly walking up to the four men staring at her in various stages of curiosity and bemusement. She stopped in front of Seta, who merely grinned, greeted her by name and asked if she was ready to work. Nodding, Nyamo returned to the boat and pulled out a duffle bag before running a rope to a nearby tree, making sure the sail boat would not float off the sand and away. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, Nyamo walked over to the clearing the men were setting up their tents at and before the men had their contraptions of nylon and metal poles set up, had built a palm frond and thatched roof hut, complete with curtained off entrance, just big enough for her. Nyamo's hut stayed her own, even after Sarah arrived a couple months ago. This was mainly because the young American girl had a tent of her own, but also because Nyamo worked most of the day while Sarah unenthusiastically studied or tried to help Seta in the dig with limited success. Despite being close in age, the two girls really did not have much in common, and it showed in their interactions, with Nyamo being the 'work work work' girl and Sarah being the 'play play play' girl.

When Keitaro and Gaz asked Seta why he had such a young girl working for him, the Todai professor explained that Nyamo was the granddaughter of an old friend of his, a Pacific Islander that would assist him on his various expeditions. Seta claimed that his old friend could almost smell artifacts, and had worked for him for many years. Nyamo was a chip off the old block, but tragedy had followed her throughout her young life; her father had died in a fishing accident several years before, her mother had died of illness a couple years after, and the grandfather had finally passed on the year before. Self-sufficient to an almost frightening degree, and with no other family to take her in, Nyamo bummed around the islands in her boat, at times being little more than a ghost. When Keitaro had asked about perhaps taking the girl to the authorities or even an orphanage, the other three men turned and stared at the younger man. Seta, serious for once, said in a low voice that with as corrupt things were in Thailand his conscience would not be able to handle it if he turned Nyamo to the authorities. Keitaro, realizing that his boss was referring to the bar girls he had seen in the various Thai towns he had gone through, with some of the girls appearing barely in their teens if that, jerkily nodded and nothing else was ever said about it.

Gidget the giant turtle had shown up a couple days later. Yuri had been napping on the beach under a palm tree after a night of sentry duty when something breathing on his face woke him up. Seeing a huge tortoise's face not less than six inches from his own caused him to almost panic; hearing the giant reptile's happy 'myuh!'greeting caused the Russian merc to practically leap to his feet from his back, scrabbling for his pistol before a laughing Gaz and worried Nyamo stopped him.

Even though Gidget helped the expedition by catching large fish in the ocean and bringing them back to camp for the crew to eat, Yuri never did warm up to her, always muttering in Russian and waving a fork at the turtle. Gidget would almost always then appear to take a sniff of the air and say something in her own language before turning and walking away. After Keitaro realized that Nyamo could understand Gidget, he asked what the tortoise was saying. Nyamo gave a deep blush, before replying in her soft voice that her turtle friend would say something along the lines of "frack him if he can't take joke!"

Yuri's lack of humor was not just about his meeting the giant tortoise. Except for some minor conversations with Gaz, the Russian hardly spoke to anyone, mostly restricting himself to passing needed information to the other men in expedition. He almost never talked to the two younger girls, acting as though they did not exist. When he was not patrolling around the dig site or up at the sniper post, Yuri would either be hunting in the jungle for wild pig to add to their meals (thankfully he would field dress and butcher the meat before bringing it back to the camp) or he would be sitting on one of the boulders on the beach, chain-smoking American Marlboro cigarettes.

On one of the times that Keitaro was on a supply trip with Gaz, the younger man asked if the Briton knew much about their co-worker. Gaz did tell him some things, such as he being the one to recommend to Seta to hire him for the trip, and that he had met the Russian while he was still taking the Queen's shilling. Yuri had been on the same side as Gaz (just barely, the Brit added) and had actually been one of the people that helped rescue him when he had been critically wounded. Before that Yuri had been a member of the Russian Federation's Ministry of the Interior OMON Spetsnaz forces, which is why he constantly wore the red and white striped sleeveless shirts called telynaska. On the rare occasion it became chilly, like at night just before dawn, or he was riding in the open Higgins boat he would wear the battledress shirt to match his camo trousers.

Yuri had served in the Caucasus uprisings in southern Russia, and given what Gaz had hinted at but never outright said, had either seen or been a part of some of the most horrific urban fighting since Stalingrad. The uprising in the Caucasus region spread into the rest of the country, and by the time everything finished with the deaths of the leaders of the Ultranationist faction, much of Russia looked like it had gone through World War II again. Things had gotten so bad in the former Soviet republics that not only were nuclear weapons being sold for the price of a new BMW, one was actually used by a Middle Eastern genocidal maniac on the losing end of an American intervention of his country, resulting in the destruction of not only the country's capital and its population but of a full division of American troops as well.

After the end of the Second Russian Civil War Yuri had left the country and traveled around the Third World, hiring on as a private military contractor, apparently trying to get away from the memories, and never succeeding. The only thing that Yuri had going for him was that he did not drink on the job, as that was a condition of employment to hire on with Seta. He did get some drinks on his resupply trips, but not enough to affect him once he got back to the dig site, especially with Keitaro driving the boat.

Even though the Higgins boat was Pacific War surplus, it had some modern equipment installed such as marine radios, depth finder sonar, and GPS, which allowed the person driving to just program the location and follow the arrows. The engines had been refitted as well, allowing for double its previous speed with little loss of range. Yuri would conk out on the deck with his camo boonie hat over his face while Keitaro steered the boat. Not that the ronin minded; it was actually kind of fun and the sights and smells of the bright blue ocean only added to the experience.

While there were plenty of flora and fauna to observe at sea, Keitaro still had to be on the lookout for predators of the human variety. On occasion, other boats would approach their vessel, supposedly fishing boats, but high speed 'real' fishing vessels were rather rare in this part of the world. At that point the contractor not driving the boat would make himself visible, his assault rifle evident but not pointed at anyone. If the approaching boat still insisted on coming closer, either one of two things would happen. If Gaz or Keitaro were on the gun, they would fire warning shots into the air in front of the incoming boat before aiming at the now sweating pilot, who would then break away. On the one occasion Yuri had been the designated rifleman, he had fired directly at the pilot, his rounds barely missing and going over his head. The pilot had turned so hard and fast to get away he had nearly capsized the boat. Yuri, after catching sight of the look on Keitaro's face, had merely shrugged and stated, "No one died, so good day, yes?" before laying back down again.

Once everyone had finished eating and were working on their beverages, Seta spoke up. "Gaz, since you won your bet with Yuri, you're going to be in charge of the resupply trip tomorrow. Keitaro, you're going with him." Seeing the look on his adoptive daughter's face, he cut her off before she could speak. "And no Sarah, you can't go with them, especially after what happened last time."

Looking from the stern expression on the professor's face to the pouting look on the American girl's, Keitaro was relieved. A few weeks before, after some nagging by the teen, Seta allowed Sarah to go on a resupply trip, and it had turned into a disaster. Yuri had gone off to his bar as soon as they had arrived, and Sarah barely listened to Keitaro in the best of times, so it had not taken very long for the blonde teen to sneak away while the ronin was buying supplies. Almost panicking once he realized the girl was gone, Keitaro had torn up the town looking for Sarah along with Yuri, who was pissed off that his drinking time was being cut into.

When they finally found the girl, she was being led away toward the port's shantytown by some too-smooth Thai teen who had fed her some alcoholic drinks. By this time Keitaro was actually angry, a rarity with the normally good-natured man. So when the ronin had not so politely told the street boy to let the giggly girl go and he laughingly refused, telling him to go find his own whore, Keitaro had punched the guy so hard in the face that the boy had lost teeth and had his jaw broken. Leaving the guy on the ground unconscious and drooling blood, Keitaro dragged a suddenly scared sober Sarah and a silent Yuri back to the boat. Even though they had only gotten half the supplies they had needed, Keitaro immediately cast off the boat from the pier and headed back to camp, deliberately taking the rougher straight route home rather than the calmer curved route. By the time they got to camp Sarah was green due to both sea sickness and the booze she had drank. At one point the girl had thrown up all over herself, and rather than deal with the mess and stink the Russian merc had thrown her overboard, hauling the choking and sputtering girl back onboard after the water washed the mess off. A couple of buckets of seawater to clean the deck later they were off again.

Upon their arrival and seeing the thunderous expression on his protégé's face, Seta knew that things had gone wrong, never mind that fact than they had arrived back at the camp just after noon when they normally did not return until sundown. After he got the full story from Keitaro, Seta was angry as well. After telling a now sick and moaning Sarah that she was restricted to her tent for three days except for meals and washroom breaks, Seta had walked off into the jungle with Yuri and Gaz in tow. After fifteen minutes the still stern professor returned to the camp and went to his tent, Gaz returning a few minutes later, a serious expression on his normally friendly face.

The Russian merc did not return to camp that night, staying out on sentry duty until the next day. Keitaro never did get a full recounting about what had been talked about by the three men, only that Gaz had told him later that Yuri had used up his 'one major fuck-up' because he had been off drinking and shoving the work he was supposed to be doing onto Keitaro. That had contributed to Sarah being able to sneak off, and as a result he was on thin ice with Seta. It was only due to Gaz's intersession and the fact that there was no easy way to replace him that kept Yuri on the job.

Sarah took her punishment with ill-grace, knowing that she had screwed up but not wanting to admit it. The drinking she had done resulted in fractured memories of that day, but one thing she did remember was the angry look on Keitaro's face, a look that almost frightened her more than a similar look on her adoptive father's face. As a result she cut back on her brattiness, which was more a result of her boredom than any real ill will. She also spent more time with Nyamo, who was patiently teaching her some woodcraft and survival skills.

Keitaro spoke up, asking "Is there anything you guys want me to buy besides the regular supplies?" as he pulled out a notepad and pen. He didn't mind picking up personal items while on the trip, as long as it was not too extravagant.

Seta spoke first. "Any decent coffee would be good. No freeze dried crap though." The Todai professor was a coffee aficionado, and their supply of coffee beans had run out that week.

Gaz replied next. "Some good tea, British if you can find it." Keitaro nodded and wrote on his pad. "Yuri wants his usual carton of Marlboro smokes." The Russian nodded his agreement.

Looking toward the youngest members of the team, Keitaro asked, "Nyamo, Gidget, what about you?" The giant tortoise whistled and chirped for a moment, leading the islander girl next to her to softly say, "Gidget wants more canned sardines in tomato sauce. I don't need anything."

After a long moment, Keitaro finally asked the last member of their team, "What do you want, Sarah?" Several looks, those of surprise and embarrassment chased over the blonde teen's face before she finally responded. She thought that the young man did not like her, so she was surprised he had even asked her.

"A box of Hershey bars with almonds, if you can keep them from melting." In Thailand's tropical heat, chocolate bars did not last long. They usually had to be kept on ice in order to preserve their form, and in fact could normally were kept in the freezers in stores.

Keitaro nodded and wrote for a few more moments. Looking up at his coworker, he asked Gaz, "We're leaving after breakfast tomorrow?" Seeing the older merc nod, the ronin looked over at the Russian. "That means I'll take watch tonight, and you'll relieve me at 0400 like normal, correct?" Yuri nodded in response as well. Since the guard who had to stay behind had to be awake all day, one of the others would take the overnight and catch up on his sleep on the boat trip in. Keitaro had taken a nap during the day after lunch, so he was good for an overnight watch.

"OK then, let me grab my gear and I'll get going. Good night everyone, see you at breakfast tomorrow." Dropping his bowl and utensils in the wash pot, Keitaro stepped into his tent and grabbed his overnight pack before switching his M4 for the Dragonov in the supply tent. Making sure he had everything he needed, including drinking water and cold tea, the ronin stepped off toward the jungle trail to the sniper post.

After a few long moments of silence around the fire, someone finally spoke. "Even for someone without the proper training, there is a young man that would make a decent officer." Coming from Gaz, this was no small praise, having worked with both the best and the worst that the British military had to offer.

"It comes from his blood. His family comes from a long line of samurai nobility." Seta was swirling the contents of his cup before taking a drink.

"I thought he said he was ronin." Gaz had a rare skill in the military, the ability to quickly learn languages and accents. Give him two weeks instruction and with his tanned skin, dark hair and eyes and proper attire he could pass for a native in almost any part of the world. That skill had been the reason why Gaz had entered special operations, first doing undercover work with 14 Intelligence Company in Northern Ireland during The Troubles, then with the Special Air Service proper. But while Gaz would become fluent in a language, he could still have problems with minute parts of the culture or slang involved.

"Originally ronin meant masterless samurai, but in modern Japan it means that someone that failed to make it into his choice of university, or someone who was laid off a job at one of the big companies. Mr. Part-timer messed up on his uni entrance exam, but he's make it next time." Seta and the other men had no doubt about that, given they had all seen Keitaro studying his books when he was not doing expedition work, with Seta sometimes helping out. "Part of the problem was that Keitaro was testing for the University of Tokyo, the equivalent of your Oxford or Harvard in America. Any other uni would snap him up, but he has his heart set on Todai. Something about a promise."

"What kind of promise?" To their surprise, it was Sarah who asked the question.

Seta though for a moment before he chuckled to himself. "You know, I don't think he ever went into detail about that. All I know is that is one very dedicated young man, and I'm glad I know him. Besides, it's helping me get back together with his aunt, my old girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" Sarah asked, both curiosity and jealousy coloring her new question.

Seta chuckled again. "Don't worry, you'll meet her once we get back to Japan." Draining his cup, Seta stood up. "Sarah, Nyamo, bed-time. Gentlemen, have a good night, I still have reports to write." Refilling his tea mug, Seta walked back to his tent, the Coleman lantern already lit over his writing desk. Everyone else stood up and wandered back to their tents.

AN2: Sorry that it took so long for me to update this story. It had always been a pet peeve of mine for authors to not finish their stories, and here I was doing the same thing. I only have two real defenses for this happening, and the tired cliché of 'real life' is not one of them.

1 - I came down with a serious case of apathy and I didn't care about much for a while. This may have been a delayed reaction to losing a close relative some time ago, but I could not summon the energy to write. I've been feeling better lately, and I am finding it easier to write again.

2 - Microsoft. Yes, I am blaming MS for my writers block. You see, last year I got a new laptop and it had MS Office Starter 2010 on it, which means it had a basic Word program with MS banner ads that could not be removed. Not only would a new copy of Word cost me over a hundred bucks, I would have to pay a yearly license fee! Needless to say, it affected my enthusiasm to write somewhat. However, I couple of weeks ago I found the CD for MS Word 2007, which I promptly DL'd to my new computer. I've been writing a lot better now.

I just took a look at the stats pages, and I am heartened to see that there are still many people reading this story. As of 2200 07Jul2013 there have been 376,671 Hits, 537 Reviews, 802 Favorites, 723 Alerts, and 55 C2s.

To readers in the Mid East or Russia, I did not mean to offend anyone with some of the in-story descriptions of those regions. However, this story contains elements of the Call of Duty: Modern Warfare universe, including characters and events. Some very bad things happened in those stories, and I borrowed some of them for this story. However, I'm not going to go into a great deal of detail, as it is not important to this story.

BTW, there is a picture of a sunrise in Thailand that Keitaro would have seen being used as the FF Net story book cover - go check it out.

Many thanks to PCHeinz and AZMarkII for their betaing of this chapter.

Next up in the story line, the expedition gets hit by pirates, some characters die and are taken, and we get to see even more of a hidden bad-ass.