Chapter 4:

by Maxwell Sinclair

AN: Sorry for the long absence. I've had major gremlin issues. First, I knocked a drink over on the laptop about the same time I lost my job. Then as soon as I got a replacement lappy, I had the external HDD that had my writings on it fail. As things were rolling again after that, I received a terrible virus from a friend. It has not been a good time for this author to have a pc. I'm sorry. This is a short update. I won't go any further into it. I'm back, now.

Suminodō, Daitō City, Ōsaka Prefecture

Tashida Labs was a squat eight-floor pyramid amidst consumer electronics and other assorted manufacturing plants. Hisoka Inoue had worked as the night security guard for six years. It was an easy job and he loved it. He was paid to sit in a seat in the guard house and turn people away. No one ever visited Tashida Labs and no deliveries ever arrived.

He didn't know much about the place. There were turrets at the building that could shoot anyone crossing the fence line and boomers wandered inside, that much he knew from his interview. What was inside he didn't know. It could be illegal, but as long as they paid him to sit in a chair watching movies he was content.

It had been a quiet night, only one lost truck so far. Lights flashed in his eyes signaling a coming truck, another guy making a wrong turn. You'd think they would notice the large one meter by three meter "private property, no turnaround" sign, but every night there were a few that didn't. He just hoped it wasn't one of those drivers that couldn't even speak Japanese.

Adjusting his belt, he stepped out the guard house door as the large, full-length semi drove up. Great, some of these guys could take almost an hour to turn around if they didn't know how to drive. He motioned for the driver to stop and approached the door.

"Sir, you're going to hav…" Before he could finish speaking a silenced pistol introduced his brains to the wall. The soft metronome of helicopter blades could be heard from over head.

Where am I? That always seems to be my first thought when I awake. The walls and ceiling were painted in a friendly yellow. The plaster wasn't peeling nor were the walls made of industrial steel. Definitely a nicer room than I'm used to sleeping in lately.

Sunlight filtered through slatted venetian blinds into my eyes; they automatically adjusted. I shuddered at the unnaturalness feeling a weight on my arm.

Shit! Pay more attention to your surroundings Max. Where are you?

The metallic tingle of artificial lilac mixed with human sweat assaulted my nose mixed with the pleasant aroma of fresh lilies from the corner of the room. A dulcet moan accompanied the silken flesh and hair shifting on my arm. A hand came to rest on my chest.

I turned my head to take her in. The woman lying against my side. Her body was spare, neat, the muscles like a dancer's. She breathed with the steady rhythm of a sleep only slightly disturbed by my movement. I followed past the elegant sweep of her breasts to her face. She had strong features with a slight roundness to the cheeks hinting at a country background framed by dark hair, cropped short like the 80's aerobic fad.

Oh God! Linna Yamazaki. My mind raced in a panic. What happened last night?

There was a chilled glass in my hand, ice cubes clinking together. The wind rushing through my hair as I sped through the streets, alcohol and pulsing lights overwhelming my vision in a constant static. Blocks began to coalesce into crude industrial blocks interspersed among bars and stores. I remember entering another bar.

Waking up in the stagnant stew of henchmen entrails tended to drive one to drink. Among flashing neon lights and the odor of humans, I met her on the dance floor. I suppose I must have been drawn in by her large eyes or maybe just the need to escape the morning in the arms of another.

Now, how to get out of here?

"Mmm, good morning."

There goes sneaking out. I chuckled and she smiled up at me. To cover my panic I quickly blurted, "How about a shower?"

Kate Madigan set the folder down with a sigh. She had already read it several times. More and more her job seemed to be focusing on this mysterious Mitsuhide operative, but she wasn't sure this was even related.

This was a nightmare.

Tahida Labs had a break-in. Most Genom employees would overlook this as a news blip. Something to talk about at the water cooler maybe. But she knew what was kept at Tashida Labs.

If she didn't find out who, and fast, she would be out of a job… or worse.

"You're glowing! What's his name?" Nene's bubbly voice interrupted her reverie.

As her red-haired friend sat down, Linna couldn't control the giant grin on her face. Sylia had called a meeting at Chez Ecouter. Over the shrubbery to her left she could see the nine meter holograms and store billboards of Kokubunji far below her. Soft cello music accompanied the aroma of candles and fish. She considered eating here a real treat.

"…Max." She remembered to answer her friend.

The loud noise of a chair scratching the floor tiles startled her as Priss sat down next to her. "Max, huh? Sounds like an asshole. Where's Sylia?"

"In the restroom," Nene answered Priss with her tongue out.

"Well, he may not be your blue eyed Leon but he seemed to be a really great guy." Linna teased Priss. "I met him at your concert." She grinned.

"Then he must not be any good. Why are we here in this stuffy place?" Priss grumped.

"I think it's nice. It makes me feel special." Nene said with a sparkle in her eye.

"When I was selling investments we always used to eat at places like this." Linna announced to her friends proudly. "But Priss has a point. We need to figure out what we're doing now that our suits are trashed."

"I apologize for making you wait." Sylia was stunning. Gleaming pearls outlined her neck and the gentle swoop of her breasts as her skirt accentuated her hips. She politely sat down. Linna was again reminded of a swan gracing her with her angelic presence.

"Well, get on with it." Priss stated to Nene and her polite dismissing murmurs.

"The hardsuits have already been repaired. Mackie is now updating them with improvements from our research into my father's notes during the past couple years. I'm sure the new suits will meet with your approval." She stated matter-of-factly with an arched eyebrow.

If only she could perfect that cool demeanor. Sylia never seemed bothered by anything. That boomer had held her at its mercy and yet she didn't seem bothered in the slightest.

"It better. Is there anything else?" Priss rudely bleated standing up.

"That is all. Be ready. I'll be contacting you each with our next job shortly." Sylia didn't seem even marginally disturbed. Priss might as well have asked her preferred tea.

Linna was always amazed at Sylia's equanimity.

"Good. I've got practice." Priss left abruptly.

"Would you like to go pick out some new outfits since we are here in Kokubunji Linna?" Nene smiled.

"That sounds like a great idea." Sylia announced, motioning for the bill.

The rest of her evening was clearly already planned. She giggled. There has got to be an outfit that would make Max seem as startled as he was this morning. It was a great day.

Stanley Diekhuis.

That was his name. I crouched on a rooftop watching the entrance to Healing Hands. A local massage parlor with 'happy endings'. I had followed him for a few days after I first caught him at the Jade Scorpion.

He was an American insurance adjuster, nothing special. But he had a wife and kids and seemed to think being in Japan meant it was okay to sleep with prostitutes. Unfortunately for him, I didn't think that was okay. That and I was broke.

Yesterday, I set off an alarm when I entered a store. I barely got away from the AD police. A new system was catching on that scanned your retinas as soon as you enter shopping plazas. The upfront explanation was to target advertising to the consumer. It also helped alert authorities to criminals and other illegals.

Conveniently, you could also use your eyes as your credit when shopping. Seems convenient. Translation: I need to borrow some eyeballs.

This led me to Stanley. I didn't like him.

"Roll over please." The words flowed over each other as Haruka spoke.

Stanley grinned to himself. This was approaching his favorite part about his business trips to Japan. He rolled over letting his towel 'accidentally' fall to the side.

Haruka sighed to herself slightly. One of 'those' customers. "Oh, master is grand." She exaggerated in broken English. "I massage mighty muscles." Was college really worth this?

Ten minutes later, Stanley was leaving the Healing Hands with a grin on his face. A pasty Caucasian man only slightly out of shape, he considered himself quite spectacular. These Japanese women just couldn't get enough of him. These trips were the perfect thing to escape the SALAMO, the Sacramento-Los Angeles Metropolis.

With a smile he turned toward his hotel as his breath caught in his throat. A hand on his neck prevented him from uttering a sound and the sky rushed towards him.

He was pulled at least thirty stories into the air and probably miles cross country, his pants drenched with urine.

God help me.

"Wake up Stanley."

A sharp, acrid tang filled the air. The world throbbed menacingly.

"Hello?" His throat scratched painfully. "Where am I?" His eyes opened. It looked to be a simple basement, maybe a parking garage. Large columns interrupted the darkness.

He repeated himself nervously, "Where am I?"

"You've been very bad Stanley." A male voice echoed around him. "You've cheated your wife, your children, and your self."

"I'm sorry." Stanley blurted. "I'll be faithful."

"This isn't about faith Stanley. This is about need!" The darkness screamed. "You needed those women didn't you Stanley?"

"Umm… Yes…" Please let that be the right answer.

"Boo!" A face appeared in front of him suddenly. He seemed to be a normal American male. Maybe a bit tall, with blonde hair and a goatee. "Hi."

"What the fuck?!?" Stanley exclaimed. "Were you just trying to scare me?" He rubbed irritably at his wrists bound with rope around the cement column behind his back.

"I suppose. Or just being an ass." The man smiled. "I'm still going to kill you. I was just having fun."

Stanley barely managed a cry to his God or Lord before cold, sterile metal pierced his throat and tears burned his eyes.

"Aww, don't cry Stanley. You're a bad man." The last thing he saw was the grinning blonde as the darkness overcame him…

I wasn't comfortable with the turn of events. I had killed a man. Not the first I had killed, but the first I had killed while staring into his crying eyes. He was a piece of shit for sure, but did he deserve death?

Regardless, I needed his eyes. This was going to hurt. With barely a murmur I carved out my eyes and slipped in the new ones.

It was time to get a much needed beer.

The Capital Club was warm with a dull cherry aroma of cigar smoke. Sylia smiled gently as Fargo sat across from her. He was dressed down in a plain suit and brown tie. He gruffly ordered a gin and smiled at her.

"Get it over with. What do you got?" She had little patience for his antics. Had he even shaved today?

"This'll be right up your alley. Trust me." His grin, as usual, seemed lecherous. "Destruction is fine. Recovery not necessary. Twenty-five up front. Ten upon completion."

She opened the folder and immediately agreed. She would pay him to destroy the Overmind Control System.

TBC

AN: The next chapter is incoming. It's longer and almost completely written. If this is here, then this chapter has not yet been edited. Thanks.