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Chapter 3

Take a Hit

The address provided led them to one of the upscale areas of the city. The neighborhood was spotted with Western style houses, some of mansion proportions. The one that they slipped into was exactly that.

Misao waited patiently as her partner slipped the lock on a back window. Her eyes scanned the lawn with its immaculately groomed hedges. Lights were on in the main part of the house. When they had scaled over the wall surrounding the place, they had paused to carefully watch the activities of a few servants as they polished silver and filled oil lamps.

She slipped the mask from over her nose, sniffing the air for any sign of cooking. If they were cooking, that implied company.

"It looks like they're preparing for something." Yoshi had silently opened the window. He led the way, feet soundlessly crossing stone and carpet.

Misao followed, adjusting her mask back over her nose. Beshimi had taught her long ago of the risks of powdered poisons burning her eyes and lungs. Besides, she had no urge to start a criminal career with her face on wanted posters.

Yoshi was carefully creeping from one elegantly carved door to the next along the hallway. Misao took her silent cue and turned the knob of an elegant metal handle across from him. It led into a spare bedroom that looked untouched. She blinked at the elegant canopy over a large western bed before shutting the door with a soft click. The next choice only led to another hallway. She glanced over her shoulder where her partner was poised at the top of the stairway down to the main foyer. Yellow lantern light made a sharp profile and for an instant, she was given a strange sensation of looking at the younger version of Aoshi. Her heart made a painful jump and she forced herself to turn away.

She softly snapped her fingers to get his attention before entering the new hallway. It seemed to lead to more private quarters, which would be a better place to find information. The floors here were polished marble that made silent walking a bit of a challenge. She rolled her feet carefully along the smooth surface.

A fancy, gilded door looked promising. One very clear fact about Kanryu was that he loved to show off his money. Misao couldn't help wondering how he managed to justify the flaunting to the government. Most likely he bribed the tax people and police.

The door opened inward, scraping dully over a thick carpet. The room was decorated in a Western style, with a pair of long, padded seats with backs that faced one another in front of a heavy wooden desk. On the small marble-topped table between the seats was a set of silver teapots with elegant china glasses. Misao had to stop to admire their craftwork before turning to the desk. Yoshi pulled open the set of doors that were half-hidden behind a large, freestanding bookshelf.

The desk was protected by a tooled piece of leather. Stacked neatly on top were several piles of paper. Carefully examining the arrangement, Misao memorized their placements before looking through them. Most of them seemed to be inventory reports. Red stamps marked the received forms. When she moved to investigate the drawers, she found envelopes with letters in English and Chinese.

"How are you at languages?" She whispered to Yoshi.

He closed the closet doors, giving Misao only a glimpse of thick texts of what she assumed were more records surrounding a heavy iron safe. She passed him the letters in hopes he could decipher them. He passed over the English ones, but the Chinese papers made him pause. Misao returned to inspecting the desk.

One of the reports stamped in red caught her eye. It was an inventory for two-dozen cabbages. Why would someone send such an official report for a single crate of vegetables? Unless…

She flipped through the papers with a closer eye. All of them were in code for she was sure that Kanryu wasn't interested in opening a grocery anytime soon, and definitely not for the amount of money exchanged. He was stockpiling a lot of cabbage from China and importing salted beef from the Americas.

"Drugs."

The whisper came from her partner.

"From China – he's trafficking drugs. I'll bet that whatever is information in English is just as illegal."

Misao held up the salted beef reports. "This is in Japanese, but it's faked. Any ideas?"

Yoshi frowned. "I don't know, but this is enough for now. We should get out."

She carefully replaced the papers and letters. Checking the rugs for any footprints, she carefully brushed over the plush fibers to eliminate any scuffs. The ornate office doors closed with only a squeak of complaint leaving no sign of an entry.

Returning to the jimmied window took little effort. The servants were winding down their preparations for the night. But as they slipped outside, the sound of footsteps sent them diving for cover behind the landscaping. Two men chatting about their latest conquests in the red light district made no real effort at keeping a tight patrol. But what they carried on their shoulders made Misao's eyes widen.

Rifles – firearms worthy of the military, not a private security force.

Yoshi led the way back to their contact. Their meeting place was a small warehouse just beyond the fishing docks. The large wooden doors were open and through the smoky torchlight inside revealed bales of rice and wooden crates. Misao could sense that there were others in the building, but only the tall figure of their recruiter, Ito, was visible. She took comfort in the fact that no one stood near the doors and she was certain that she would have enough time to sprint out of the building, should anything go wrong. Yoshi hadn't spoken a word to her since leaving the mansion. He stood next to her, but focused solely on the gangster as he leaned against a small wooden shrine, oddly placed in the center of the room.

Yoshi gave his narrative in a steady, unassuming tone. Misao added her own observations, but decided that staying out of the gang's spotlight would be safer for now. Yoshi clearly had been working for the group for a while, and she was the newcomer.

The report to Ito paid enough that she could change her rooming from the slums and insecure shack to an actual more-reputable looking establishment. Due to their observations that the household was preparing for guests, their handler scheduled an updating mission in two nights. Yoshi had taken his share of the payment and left without a second glance at either the gangster or Misao.

Misao slipped her money into an inner pocket and gave their handler a short bow. When she looked up, he was watching her with a strange light in his eye. She braced herself for a proposition.

"You seem quite young to be in this business." Ito glanced over her worn outfit as he turned to light a stick of incense. He bowed before the shrine and softly clapped his hands for attention.

Misao caught a whiff of the smoke, something she couldn't recognize. Her hand slipped behind her, ready to pull a kunai from hiding. She had been careful to remove any signs that may lead back to her connections in Tokyo, but one could never be too careful.

She shrugged. "I do what I must."

To her surprise, the tall gangster reached out in an almost brotherly fashion to touch her shoulder. "What do you do to enjoy life? This profession of yours is not safe, particularly for a woman."

Misao smelled a rat in his concern. Without answering, she stepped back, out of his grasp, hand tightening on her blade.

Ito held up his hands. "I am not implying prostitution. You made your opinion of that quite clear the first time we met. I am only reminded of a sister I once had."

He reached into his sleeve and pulled out two more incense sticks. "She was very nervous. I found that meditation was the best method to help her focus." He held them out to her. "Perhaps you'd like to try it."

Wordlessly, Misao took the offering and slipped it into her own sleeve. With another short bow, she quickly turned her back on the gangster and walked out the door.

Changed into her 'civilian' cloths, Misao negotiated the rent on her new home – a two-room apartment that shared a common bath for all, down by a third of the original price and then made her way down to the river. She stopped off at her workplace and informed the ramen shop owner that she would not be working there any longer. The man only grunted and handed her a small tip, which she took as an invitation to return at any future time. She gave him a smile and heartfelt thanks.

Down at the river, a number of shop owners trying to peddle their wares called out and gestured to her, but she declined with a downward glance. She did treat herself to some dango as she walked, pausing under a willow to keep from dropping any of the sticky sweet sauce on her cloths.

Boats came in and out of the city, hundreds of times a day. However, the fancy ferries were less common. Everything about the drug lord said that he loved style. She doubted he would try and sneak in on a fishing boat. Her memory flashed back to the silver pots on the office table. Kanryu liked Western style. There was only one Western style, steam-powered ferry she knew of in the city.

Misao tossed the bamboo skewer into the water where it was swarmed upon by a dozen small fish that scavenged the last traces of mochi. She made her way quickly to the center of the fishing market to the transportation headquarters. The board with the boating schedules posted a possible delay for the West Wind by a day. That gave her one more night to try and find more useful information at the manor. If she and Yoshi were to make a second foray as ordered by Ito, then it was her only chance to search for clues on the Oniwaban on her own.

Or better yet, perhaps she ought to investigate more on the gang that had hired her. If she knew what they were looking for in their competition, perhaps she could tailor her information and be brought closer into their circle. If the gang was so concerned with their rivals, they most likely had been keeping tabs on all other competitors. She could have access to a whole bank of clues leading her to the other members of the Oniwaban.

"Hey – you're here! That's great!" Misao jumped at the sudden iron grip on her elbow. She turned, about to yell at the nerve of whoever greeted her so familiarly. The words froze in her throat.

Yoshi, face uncovered and smiling brightly, smoothly steered her away from the crowds at the docks. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting. My parents had me make an errand before coming."

Misao tried to play along, covering her confusion, "That's fine, I hadn't been waiting long."

He hurried her down a few narrow streets before leading the way into a covered alley between two houses. His facade dropped as he leaned uncomfortably close. Misao felt herself blushing at the picture he made – a lover stealing a moment in the shadows.

"There's been a change of plans. It seems you've come to the same conclusion as Ito – that the target will be coming tomorrow. We only have tonight."

Well, that blew her own plans out of the water. Misao hid her disappointment. "When do we meet?"

Yoshi gave her a more genuine smile. "One hour after midnight – you know where it is, so I'll just see you there."

She gave him a short nod before backing out from under his hovering stance. Yoshi's eyes were strangely sharp as he watched her retreat. It made her want to reach for a weapon, not sure if he intended on attacking, or simply walk away. An instant later, the mercenary straightened and hooked one hand in his belt.

"I'll see you around then, Misao."

Author's Note:

So, get ready for things to start rolling. Gearing up for the action is harder than the action itself. Please let me know what you think! I need reviews!