Takatori might need this sub rosa fund drive, but Takatori Enterprises still had the resources for a big building project. Whatever Ran thought of his brains, Reiji knew the importance of stressing that. He'd invited his two important guests to eat actually in one of his construction sites.
He'd had one of the restaurant's dining rooms finished well ahead of schedule. High above the scurrying worker ants, among the cranes and scaffolding, they sat in a room of established luxury. The wait staff had been sent out before the meal began, which made Ran feel even more like a specimen in a bottle.
Takatori loved it, of course.
The architect had gone for wrap around, ceiling to floor windows. Schuldig gleefully sent to Ran Bevan's dislike of heights, while Nicol was just discovering he disliked very exposed places. Being midsummer, the noon glare gave people in the room rather a feeling of being under a spotlight, which didn't go comfortably with their business.
Ran was rather surprised he'd been ordered to guard this confidential meeting, he knew Crawford's policy. But Crawford had told him, and that was that. He'd an idea Schuldig knew why. Schuldig wasn't telling. He might indulge Ran by letting Weiss live, and Ran wasn't even sure that wasn't part of one of Crawford's schemes, but in things important to the team Schuldig was loyal to Crawford.
So all four members of Schwarz stood around the air conditioned room, concealing their boredom, while Takatori tried to get financial backing from the US government.
That, at least, was what the meeting was said to be. Takatori quite rightly could, and did, say he was against socialism, and was being targeted by the left. But when he started talking about the big amounts available to individual Americans, the reason he had selected these two was clear.
Schuldig made it equally clear to Schwarz both Takatori's guests were a bit miffed. Nicol hated sitting here in a glass case and bright light. The fewer people who knew where he was, the safer he felt. General James Powell hadn't been able to make it from Kyoto, and wouldn't have wanted if he could. He'd sent his old NCO. Major Bevan felt loyalty to Powell, but was aware he had stepped over a line, and didn't like it. He picked up a glass of bottled water, sipped, and said, "So, how much are we talking about?"
"Thirty million US dollars."
What Bevan might have said to this, after he'd mopped the water from his lap, is unknown. It was just then a crane smashed a five ton girder of steel against the window.
The furniture quivered slightly. The guests jumped. Takatori said indignantly, "Crawford!"
Crawford said, "As you can see, Takatori Enterprises builds with the best materials. Our bullet proof glass can stand up to anything."
Nicol said suspiciously, "Is this a demonstration? Because it's a bit too high pressure."
He looked at the end of the girder, resting in spider webbed, unbroken glass. And the squad of ski masked riflemen riding the girder, who seemed to be arguing. Unbalanced against the window, the girder slowly toppled horizontally, swinging round to smash sideways against glass, which webbed into more cracks, but still did not break.
On the team link, Silvia asked Schuldig, /They are after Takatori?/ Normally she wouldn't have had to ask, but now the guests were an influential mafioso and the envoy of a corrupt US general.
/No. They want Nicol./
"Not on our part," Crawford assured Nicol. "Jaeger, Fujimiya, take care of them."
Ran reached up above his head to the air conditioning vent in the ceiling, pulled it open, and swung up and out. Schuldig was on his heels.
They balanced on a curved roof. Two hundred feet above the ground, a cold breeze cut through their thin, white suits.
They jumped outward, landing on opposing end of the girder, with the men between them. The depth of air snatched at Ran's heels.
He'd found before that, at close quarters, a sword is surprisingly effective against armed men. These were still off balance, and they were getting in each other's way. The first few he'd cut down before they even realised he had a sword. Their bodies fell ungainly and fast, some dead, some dying.
Few of the quick fired bullets came near him, and those he managed to deflect with his blade. His strokes were less skewed than their rifle shots by the girder's shudders. On the other side of the mob, he could hear the lighter snap of Schuldig's revolver mixed with the rifle fire. Schuldig's voice spoke smoothly within his mind. /The guy with the red ski mask is the leader. Crawford wants us to bring him in alive./
Ran nodded, beheading the last two between him and the red mask with one sweep of his sword. /And the crane operator?/
/A bribed hardhat who's already running./
The man with the red mask was facing Schuldig. Schuldig liked balancing on the razor's edge, his smile showed white, sharp teeth. Schulding's words were mainly to distract their opponent. "I can fire my revolver before you can aim that cannon."
Red Mask ignored him, and tried. He would have failed even if Ran hadn't struck him from behind.
As the lean man began to crumple, Ran scooped him up and across his shoulder in a fireman's lift. He thought he was slipping in the blood, then realised the girder was beginning to tilt.
Schuldig looked distracted for a moment, peering down at the bodies smashed on the concrete. Workers were hurrying around them. He raised his gun and Ran grasped the wrist, sending /You can't be sure of your aim with this footing./
/Might have worked./
As the girder tilted further, Ran grabbed at one of the cables suspending it from the crane.
Schuldig said /Hand me the Scaffolding Sure Shot./
Ran kept his face blank, but he hated not being as fast and strong as his partner. /Get a foothold first./
Schuldig's grin widened. He leaped down and across, about ten feet, landing on some bare scaffolding. He leaned in a casual manner against an upright beam. Aloud he said, "I can see our building from here!"
Trying to brace his feet on the slick surface, Ran carefully grasped the unconscious man, before throwing him. The recoil made him slip, but he slapped down against the girder on falling. The weight of steel seemed to shiver and brace itself back in position like a live thing.
On the mental link, he heard Crawford telling Silvia to keep her mind on her own job, as he landed on the ledge three feet from Schuldig.
The telepath adjusted the man over his shoulder, sent /Next time you might want to cut it a bit less fine/ and led the way up the unwalled fire escape.
Bevan looked at them, looked at the prisoner, looked at Takatori, and said, "Thirty million dollars?"
Nicol said gently, "Major," and nodded at their prisoner.
Schuldig lay him out at Crawford's feet. Ran caught Schuldig wondering whether to place one of the centrepiece's flowers on his chest. Crawford bowed to Takatori, who bustled up, to kick the prisoner in the ribs as a matter of course. "Come on, man. Take his mask off!"
Schuldig sent /This is always a big moment in the Batman movies./
He was remarkably good looking. Add to that angel face, hair which really was golden, eyes a pure blue as pale as silver. A new toy for Schuldig. Ran felt the great knot in him ease a little. He didn't think Schwarz would let him just walk away, but it would be over.
No one knew the young man. Crawford nodded to Ran, who emptied a silver ewer of chilled Evian water over his head. Eventually, he spluttered awake. When only semi-conscious he tried to get up, apparently hoping to strangle Nicol with his bare hands. Takatori absently kicked him down again.
"I don't know him!" Nicol told Takatori again. Obviously, to Nicol, someone trying to kill him didn't have to know him personally.
The young man spoke in English, which Ran knew. "You killed my father! Your car bomb blew him to bits!"
Nicol asked, "Which one was this?"
"His name was Chappell!"
"Oh, yes. An Internal Affairs cop. Real prig. Didn't think he'd have left you enough money for your own private army."
When Chappell tried to get up again, Crawford stepped in between him and Takatori. A sharp knife appeared in Chappell's hand. Crawford took it. Chappell managed to stand. Still concentrating on Nicol, "From the Council of Ten. They've got lots more, and they'll get you!"
Bevan looked as blank as Takatori. Schuldig brought their employer up to date. "The Council of Ten? America's Kritiker doesn't even have its own assassination squad! Had to rely on you, untrained."
"And I nearly got him. The next one will."
Schuldig swaggered forward, smiling a white-toothed smile. "Chappell..." he began. The young man turned and looked at him uncertainly.
Schuldig shot him dead. He looked deliberately at Ran.
Ran braced himself. Not over, then.
And he wouldn't think of being a bit more to Schuldig than just something to play with. He couldn't cope with that.
Crawford frowned slightly, then turned back to both Nicol and Bevan. "Not while Schwarz is protecting you."
"And if Schwarz stops protecting us?"
Crawford stepped back and waved at the door. "You can walk out any time and take your chances."
Nicol had a sneer almost as good as Crawford's. "You know, this floor show is damn convenient for Takatori Enterprises. A guy might wonder if they had something to do with arranging it."
But not as smug as Crawford's. "Mr Nicol, for what you suggest, we would have needed to know what Chappell was thinking. We would have been able to tell just what time he would strike."
"Might have needed to control the door knocker, too," suggested Schuldig, who always overdid his flavouring.
Bevan asked, "Thirty million dollars?"
Takatori huffed. "Thirty million dollars would be small change in your Presidential elections. Besides, most of it you'll raise here." He looked at Nicol. "Once you stop piddling around with low price, high risk items like machine guns." Nicol bridled. He was proud of his arms running business. "The yakuza are moving a big load of drugs tonight. More than half that amount. With your troops, we can hijack them easily. And that's just for starters." Schuldig said he'd practically bust a frontal lobe getting Takatori to let the Americans in on the action. All that lovely money...But they were going to need the Americans to take on the yakuza. And the yakuza had the money.
Nicol scowled. Among other things, he was probably unpleasantly surprised to find Takatori had such a good idea of what to do.
Bevan said, "Tonight?"
Everyone looked at him in surprise. Crawford said, "You can get a squad of marines ready, with a whole afternoon?"
"What do I tell them?"
Takatori said, "They're soldiers, aren't they?"
Crawford said, "You tell them we're taking drugs off the yakuza. They won't care too much what happens about the drugs later." Ran could believe the American Army had some pretty rocky incidents with the yakuza.
The plan was settled mostly in Takatori's voice. Bevan and most of his men would hit the yakuza when seller and buyer met. Schuldig would take a squad to catch the truck which was going to drive the drugs off. "There'll be at least two armoured cars with them," Nicol warned. "Can you take them?"
Schuldig sneered.
Right at the end of the council, Crawford gave Ran the easy job. "The ship which brought the drugs is a tramp steamer. Her sailors are old hands at this. They won't be expecting trouble. But they will have to be disposed of. Even if they are unarmed. I'll give you a couple of charges, which should destroy the ship pretty well."
Takatori and his three guests were ready to leave. Schuldig and Ran went ahead. Crawford stayed behind with Silvia long enough to check there was nothing left behind but the body, and Takatori's staff would take care of that.
In the dining room doorway, he nodded to Silvia.
As they stepped through the door, the five ton girder, which had been settling against the fragile glass window, was pulled through it by gravity. It crashed into the centre of the luxurious room, destroying it as effectively as a bomb.
The ship was moored against a quay which was slippery with junk and algae. It was dark under the thin new moon, but Ran figured both ship and quay looked their best like that.
His black trench coat making him one shadow in darkness, Ran scouted along the quay. Everything seemed completely deserted. Ran liked the idea of not having to kill, but figured there was a catch to it.
Without bothering about the ladder, he dropped down onto the deck. There were many bad, old smells. All Ran noticed was the bad, new ones of blood and fresh corpses. He drew his sword. It was the brightest thing in the dark scene.
The crew had been caught at their posts. Most seem to have been killed before they noticed. All had been killed with a sword.
At the prow of the ship, a shadow became a man. Dressed in a black trench coat much like his own, he had long, black hair and eyes dark as death. Taller than Aya, but walking with the same swordsman's grace. The sword he was carrying, in contrast to Aya's, was dripping red.
He saluted Aya with that sword. Aya returned the salute and their blades struck together.
Aya was a good swordsman. He was good enough to know immediately this man was much better.
They moved together, better than with any teacher he'd ever had, and Ran knew it was all the dark man's doing. For a moment he wondered if this would end in the flurry of blades, and they would walk out of the sword circle friends. The dark man seemed to pick up something of this. He said, "I will kill you." He spoke with a deep, rich voice. It was flat. Ran thought it business like.
He nodded. It was acceptance. The man could kill him at any time. Their blades moved faster and with more subtlety than he'd ever managed before. They were almost dancing. The red sword cut his steel lined trench coat from him as if it was gauze. Ran began thinking it was some shikigami or his own shadow he faced. It seemed to him he was being given the best of deaths. He waited for the clean sweep of execution. The red sword flashed like lightning at his breast.
Ran staggered. Still breathing. His right arm blazed pain.
The stranger smiled.
Not a shadow or an angel, or even some master samurai. Just another murderer.
Ran snatched his falling sword up with his left hand, walled off the pain, and settled down to making the man work for his kill.
The next stroke he managed to deflect at the last moment, but his weaker blade broke in his hand. He'd no time to worry about soul symbolism. He held the hilt and waited for a chance to throw it.
Then the dark blade was lancing towards his body, too quick and unexpected to stop. Ran parried it with the hilt, delaying the inevitable one useless second.
There was a shot.
It took Ran a moment to realise he was alive.
The point of the sword, still an instant from his skin, fell back. The dark man fell into a heap, making one shadow among many.
Silvia looked down at him from the quay.
"Thanks," he said gruffly. He hoped he concealed his surprise.
Silvia shrugged. "Brad said you'd need a lift home. Your car is untraceable, I hope?"
Managing a makeshift tourquinet on his arm, Ran didn't dignify this with an answer. Still concentrating on controlling his pain, he laid the charges. He picked up the pieces of his trench coat from the deck, and folded them at the dead swordsman's feet. He picked up the stranger's sword. After a moment's hesitation, he shook off the blood, and sheathed it in his own scabbard. Crawford would expect him to re-arm himself as quickly as possible. And it was too good to end in the bottom of the harbour.
It was the finest sword he'd ever seen. In the dim light, he felt rather than saw a flower engraved on the hilt. Ran thought it might be an aster, but he was no expert on flowers. He resolved to ask the next Weiss he met.
Normally he wouldn't have bothered to use the ladder up to the pier. Now, every rung was a struggle. When he'd climbed up onto the quay, he saw she still had her gun out.
She looked at him, and said in a calm, conversational tone, "Schuldig wanted to drop everything, and come rushing to your rescue. Crawford said he was needed with Nicol. He said I wasn't. You don't even like Schuldig, and he cares for you."
Ran wondered if he might have been safer with the swordsman. Almost certainly anything he said would be wrong, but keeping quiet was dangerous, too. "He cares for the use of me."
"I'd settle for that."
"You wouldn't want that."
Some note in his level voice almost caught Silvia's attention. She blinked at him for a second. Then her own grief distracted her. "Well, I love Crawford, and I would. And you get it and you're only - " Ran braced himself for one of the names Takatori's staff used, but Silvia used one she thought worse " - a mundane."
The ship went off like a fire cracker. The oil polluted water around it caught fire.
The unknown swordsman's death ship lit the scene like an opera. Silvia looked suitably tragic, a doomed figure in the glaring light. She ignored the sparks and flakes of burning metal flying past them.
Ran looked down at the pretty little face, and his eyes softened briefly. He said, "Pull yourself together. You can live your own life."
Silvia gasped in outrage. "Don't speak to me as if I was your little sister! I'm a Talent of the top rank! One of Esset's elect! After the Summonin,g I'll have power you miserable mundanes can't even imagine! And you can get home by yourself!"
She swept off to a final volley from the ship's fuel tanks. Ran set about securing his tourquinet.