Disclaimer: Inu-Yasha's the thief, not me. Takahashi-sama owns all recognizable characters. Ocean's Eleven is owned by WarnerBros. and all that rot. And I guess Uncle Sam's country is owned by the good tax-paying citizens of America. The Lion King is owned by those who hold the Mouse Ears.
A/N: Yes, Inu-Yasha was the guy who had dark hair in the beginning. He dyed it. Yes, this story was up once before; it needed to be fixed. Also, the Tang Dynasty horses have been mentioned in a few Inu-Yasha fics I've come across--if anyone knows the original creditor, please let me know.
"Assuming this thing is still in existence, how many zeroes are we talking about?"
"Five. The number in front of those zeroes is negotiable."
Inu-Yasha took a swig of his beer and took a second look at the folder of bios. "You'll need a better team," he pointed out.
"We have a deal, then."
Inu-Yasha smirked. "Yeah, Sessh, we got a deal," he agreed, clinking the beer bottle against Sesshoumaru's glass of white wine.
The next hour Sesshoumaru and Inu-Yasha spent together did not go to waste. After ordering dinner, the two set to work on reconfiguring the contents of both of Sesshoumaru's folders.
Inu-Yasha took a pull from his Bud and went over the personal files. "Nope," he began as he crumpled the first info sheet. The next three sheets followed the same treatment for being "unreliable", "backstabbing" and "too suspicious."
"What exactly are you doing?" Sesshoumaru asked.
"Eliminating bad prospects," Inu-Yasha explained. He sat back with his beer bottle in hand and watched the traffic flow around the intersection the café was situated on. "Just because somebody's good doesn't mean they're the guy for the job." He took another drink and indicated to the folder in front of him. "You don't need half these people," he continued. "A good group doesn't take that many." After a moment of scanning the remaining files, Inu-Yasha picked up an interesting looking sheet to study it further.
"Who's he?" he asked as he waved the bio in his brother's face.
Sesshoumaru barely spared a glance over his spectacles at the sheet before returning his attention to the list of requirements Inu-Yasha had given him. "That would be Dr. Miroku Priest," he answered. "He is a professor in the Chemistry and Physics department at a private university in southwestern Utah."
"Huh. Kind of a nowhere place to be," Inu-Yasha noted as he read the biostats. "I've never heard of this place."
"Not surprising," said Sesshoumaru. "Dr. Priest seems to prefer it that way. His job at the university funds his personal experiments in explosive reactions."
"I'll bet the academy's in the dark about the whole thing too. Fifty acres of family land? Whatcha wanna bet he's doing his experiments somewhere on his own property? I'll bet no-one even knows about it." Inu-Yasha placed the file back in the folder face down. "So we got a science geek as our demolition expert. Great. Who's next?"
Sesshoumaru discreetly rolled his eyes and made a few more notations in his palm pilot.
"Awww, lookit, Sessh, you're an equal opportunity employer," Inu-Yasha cooed, his words dripping with sarcasm.
Sesshoumaru fixed the younger man with flattest glare imaginable. "You must be referring to Miss Kanda," he surmised.
"And here I was thinking the only thing you were indiscriminate about was your hate for the rest of the world." Inu-Yasha raised his bottle in mock toast and finished its contents. "So, you're saying a chick's got the cyber hacking skills you need?"
"I doubt very much that you will find Miss Kanda to be another female--"
"Whoa! A chick with g--"
"Finish that sentence and I shall be forced to kill you in public," Sesshoumaru inserted calmly. "In fact, we should not be looking at these files out in the open like this. After dinner we will convene to my study."
"Whatever," the younger man sighed. "I'm done with these anyways." He returned the now thinner folder to his half brother.
Sesshoumaru raised an eyebrow. "There were three more names in there."
Inu-Yasha slumped for a moment; then straightened up and opened the folder again to take the remaining sheets out. "Sucks, sucks, and him I don't like," he announced as he flipped through the files. Four rips later, the papers were in sixteenths and Inu-Yasha deposited them in the ashtray and sprinkled some of the Napa Cabernet on them before dropping a lit match to set them aflame. "There. Beautiful," he pronounced, ignoring the stares the table received from other diners and passing pedestrians alike.
And if the waiter thought it odd that there was small bonfire in the ashtray as he brought dinner to the table, he gave no indication. L.A. was full of eccentric people.
The ride back to Sesshoumaru's grand house was somewhat quiet, though tension had nothing to do with it. Sesshoumaru sat on one side of the large luxury car's grey leather backseat and quietly made a few calls. He was torn between completely ignoring his younger half-brother in favour of conducting business and keeping an eye on him. Not that there was anything to watch, really. Inu-Yasha had immediately immersed himself in the joys of the car's mini-bar and the small colour tv that came with cable and a remote. He appeared, for all purposes, to be amusing himself by rapid channel surfing and making faces at the infomercials and shopping networks.
The house was situated north of the city, 45 minutes away from the downtown area, with hardly any neighbours. It was positioned at the end of a large cul de sac and guarded against outsiders with a brick wall all the way around the front of the property and a black wrought iron gate which pulled back to allow them entrance. The house proper, though still far away was visible at the top of a small hill, made with impressive mountain stone. The steep gables and traditional Tudor windows visible from the face of the house only added to the majesty of the building.
Inu-Yasha whistled. "Nice place. Who'd ya blackmail?"
"Not all of us make it our entire goal in life to stay on the wrong side of the law," Sesshoumaru retorted absently. He shuffled through some of his papers and began putting them back in his briefcase as the car made its way up the drive. Inu-Yasha surveyed the small portion of land he could view from the car window. The grass was ridiculously green and trimmed very short. The entire area around the house was flat and free of any apparent sinkholes or other unsightly flaws of a typical lawn. Halfway up the drive the uniformed rows of Bradford Pears lined the remaining path.
The car stopped in front of the house and the brothers exited the car on their respective sides. Inu-Yasha let himself be drawn by the koi swimming in the fountain before joining his brother on the other side of the car. The front door was thrown open and a short ugly little man with a greenish pallor waddled to the car. "Master Sesshoumaru, you're home!" he cried as the brothers stepped out of the car.
"Ugh," Inu-Yasha groaned.
"You!" the ugly little man cried.
"Jaken, you remember my half-brother, Inu-Yasha," Sesshoumaru said.
"Yes, your father's second son." Jaken favoured the younger brother with a particularly creepy glare.
"We will be in the study; we are not to be disturbed," Sesshoumaru ordered as he led the way into the house.
"I understand, Master Sesshoumaru," Jaken said.
"That little freak's still hanging around?" Inu-Yasha asked after they were out of earshot. He took a moment to glance around the large narthex as they crossed the room. The decor was very much his brother's taste: Spartan, dark and tasteful.
The walls reflected the same shade of stone green as the actual stone floor. A set of stone steps curved to follow the right wall's contour and adjoined to the landing of the second floor. There was no furniture in the room save for the free standing coat rack and umbrella stand by the front door and the large pedestal table set in the centre of the room. It held only an aged black horse from the Tang dynasty of China and a red table runner. Briefly, Inu-Yasha thought of his own horse, cream coloured and cracked, sitting on a shelf in his storage unit. It had been a gift from their father to his late mother that had passed to him after she died.
Large maroon velvet curtains were open to allow the setting sun to cast its dying rays through the two picturesque Tudor windows. Between that and the electric chandelier that hung above, the dim light through a soft relief through the otherwise dark room.
"Jaken is very loyal to me," Sesshoumaru told Inu-Yasha
"He's loyal because he's obsessed with you. He has some sort of sick and twisted crush on you."
Inu-Yasha caught his half-brother's rare but noticeable grimace. Sesshoumaru knew it too.
Sesshoumaru opened a door near the bottom of the stairs to reveal his study. It was a cozier room done in light browns and reds and soft carpeting, giving the impression of a warmer room compared to the dark narthex. "Have a seat, Inu-Yasha," he said as he opened his briefcase and emptied its contents on his desk.
Inu-Yasha, however, made a beeline for the small beverage cart in the corner and poured himself a generous shot of Green Spot whiskey.
"Yes, help yourself," Sesshoumaru muttered.
If Inu-Yasha heard him, he pretended not to notice. He grabbed the winged back chair near the cart and hauled it over to his brother's station without spilling anything.
"You said you could help me improve my team," Sesshoumaru began without preamble. "You've got names then?"
"I might," Inu-Yasha agreed after taking a sip and studying his drink. He set it on the coaster at the edge of the desk and looked at his only sibling. "It depends on the type of job you're looking to do."
"Type of job," Sesshoumaru echoed monotonously.
"Yeah. Believe it or not, there is a right and wrong way to go about a heist."
"Do tell," Sesshoumaru prompted.
"Basically it depends on how you want to take whatever it is you're going after and why." Inu-Yasha studied his drink. "If you just want something, you may want to be sly about getting it or just steal it in the night. No witness. If it's personal though, things can get tricky. There's politics behind thievery...funny...I don't know which one's worse." He downed the rest of the whiskey in one gulp. "Good stuff," he rasped. He waited until the burning sensations subsided and then asked his next question.
"It's not personal, is it? I don't like being in the middle of a feud."
"It's never personal," Sesshoumaru assured.
The younger man nodded once. "Good. So the main thing to worry about is how to take the sucker, blatantly or covertly?"
"As discreetly as possible, it would not do for either of us to be connected with anything recently stolen. You CAN be discreet, can't you?"
Inu-Yasha was unsure if his brother was making a joke or not and settled for merely glaring at him.
Sesshoumaru returned the look without expression. His younger brother broke eye contact first and continued the conversation.
"Assuming this is just an in and out job, you'll need a driver. Even if it wasn't, you still need a driver. A getaway. Someone who's good, and fast, and can lose a bunch of cops without losing his head. And I've got just the man."
"Whom?"
"His name's Kouga. He was the driver for my last gig, he'll be perfect."
"And you know he's not in jail, how?"
"He split before the cops showed up. Probably crossed the border," Inu-Yasha mused. "Said he liked warmer climates."
"And how do we know he won't turn tail and run out on us?"
Inu-Yasha's eyes darkened. "Kouga's not a traitor," he insisted. "I told him to run."
"You told your only escape to leave you?" Sesshoumaru questioned doubtfully.
"I was already caught by then; there was no sense in him taking the fall too."
"There will be no self-sacrificing this time," Sesshoumaru asserted. "Everyone will stick together and leave together."
"I wasn't aware you were a supporter of the 'No Child Left Behind' Act," Inu-Yasha commented. "Really, all these moralistic values welling up in you are quite endearing. And kinda scary."
"I don't want any loose ends," Sesshoumaru snapped.
"You mean you don't want any loose lips," the younger man clarified with a grin.
"I can't be blamed," his brother contended.
Inu-Yasha shrugged. "I suppose not," he conceded as he set his glass down on the desk.
"Are there any other partners from your past that you care to nominate?" Sesshoumaru asked.
"No," Inu-Yasha answered quickly. "No-one else. Small groups are easier to work with; easier to reveal a traitor."
"There will be no traitors," Sesshoumaru announced with conviction. "To neither you nor I nor the rest of the team. I will not allow it."
Inu-Yasha allowed a moment for that to settle in his mind. That statement was as good as it got for Sesshoumaru's promise not to backstab him. It was a vague and subtle message, but it was the truth nonetheless and that was all that counted. Still, it wouldn't hurt to be a good deal wary about the whole thing. After all, going after the Shikon the first time had been done with a team. And jail wasn't at the top of his list of 'Places to Revisit Sometime Soon'.
"Tomorrow I will contact our future employees."
"Leave Kouga to me," Inu-Yasha requested. "I'll hunt him down."
Sesshoumaru nodded. "Very well." It became clear that he had no more to say on the matter as he cleared away the papers laying in front of him and turned to buzz the intercom on his desk.
Inu-Yasha, however, had something else to discuss and leaned on the large desk. "Hey, Sessh..."
Sesshoumaru paused in his actions and glanced at his half brother.
Inu-Yasha made a motion with his hand. "Between you and me—what's the motive? This heist is too elaborate for a museum piece."
The older brother stared expressionlessly at the younger for several moments before answering. "Naraku is my opponent in both business and antique collecting," he began. "He is intelligent enough for his own business, but both ignorant and careless of the 'bigger picture' so to speak."
"You're not gonna go all Disney on me with that 'Circle of Life' crap are you?" Inu-Yasha grumbled.
Sesshoumaru glared at him but continued. "Whether or not he realizes it, Naraku holds an incredibly amount of buying power with just the jewel alone. There have been no reports on the elemental structure of the Shikon no Tama, it's not carbon and coal, like a diamond and it's not gold. This leads me to believe that it's something else—perhaps something even more rare than either one of those. Half of my curiosity is just that. But if it is something as rare as I believe it is--and even if it isn't, it's unprecedented—coupled with the power of the media, the value of the jewel could skyrocket and the stock market could decline sharply."
Inu-Yasha quirked an eyebrow. "You're worried about your stocks and bonds?"
"I'm worried about my empire. I won't let such a risk just sit there when I can negate it. Naraku does not need to possess that item."
Jaken waddled in with a tray laden with tea and biscuits, making Inu-Yasha wonder if the disgusting little man simply waited at the door until he was called upon. It would fit his devotion.
"Jaken, prepare a guest room for Inu-Yasha, he will be staying here for a while."
Jaken barely concealed his look of contempt. "Yes, Master Sesshoumaru."
"I've got my own place," Inu-Yasha protested.
Sesshoumaru merely glanced at him a look that brooked no retaliation.
Any other objections died a swift and painful death as a huge and frisky black Retriever with a pink gingham bow on its head came bounding into the room. The dog ran right past Jaken, knocking him over then slowed to a trot towards Sesshoumaru. It plopped itself right in front of the gentleman and panted as its tail swept back and forth against the rug.
"Rin," Sesshoumaru chided.
The dog cocked its head and gave a quick whine and a bark before nudging its head under Sesshoumaru's hand for a pat. As he complied, Rin laid her head in his lap.
"That can't be your dog," Inu-Yasha exclaimed. "You don't like animals. You couldn't even keep the goldfish Dad got you alive."
Sesshoumaru ignored the jibe. "This is Rin," he announced.
The Retriever ambled over to Inu-Yasha to greet him. After sniffing his hands and giving him a good lick, Rin repeated her request to him. Inu-Yasha needed no help from the dog and petted it with both hands enthusiastically. The dog loved him all the more.
"Girl?" he asked his brother.
"Yes."
"Show dog?"
"Rin's been in a few," Sesshoumaru admitted. "She tends to get over excited sometimes."
"You're a pretty dog," Inu-Yasha told Rin in a lower and rougher tone. "Yes you are, yes you are."
Rin barked happily.
New York, New York
Inu-Yasha had always loved the East Coast. It held the raw power that appealed to him—the forests of North Carolina, the mines of the Appalachians and the machinery of upper New England. He supposed that was why the Big Apple had been such a comfort to him; the inhabitants were unapologetically raw with emotion. They held a fierce love of their home, pride in their bloodlines and deep seated rivalry with any opposition.
L.A. was for his brother: polished and snooty. But New York? New York was his.
Or it had been before he had gotten caught, charged and shipped to the middle of fucking nowhere. That was the price of stealing from such a big name family. Idly, he wondered just how Kikyou and her family were doing.
The absolutely gorgeous day inspired him to take refuge in the dark of the subway. The station was no different than he remembered, poorly lit with flickering lights that made everyone look sallow and ill, and the platform was crowded. Though it hosted more tourists at this time than anything else. Ideal conditions for any petty thief. The visitors were told to keep a close eye on their things but they were usually too busy gawking at their surroundings to notice their pockets being picked.
Today, a visiting group of high schoolers were on the train with Inu-Yasha. They were probably unaccustomed to the subways as they took up most of the car with their refusal to sit as a single group and their insistence of personal space. Kids from New York would have known better. The students sat in fours and fives though some sat singly—like the kid in the corner with red sandy hair.
His aqua coloured eyes watched as the tunnel's wall whizzed past in a bored type of manner. The kid sat near an older man that wasn't part of the group; he wore an overcoat and a fedora. He was listening to a portable radio and engrossed in an open map of the subway lines.
The train followed the tracks around one of the sharper turns and riders swayed appropriately, some a little more so than others. It was obvious the kids had never ridden the railways before. The red head was so small he was pitched into the older man's lap. After blushing and apologizing profusely, the kid moved a few seats down, closer to the high school groups.
Inu-Yasha had watched the entire interaction and smirked in amusement. The kid was good. Not even the elderly gentleman gave any indication of knowing he was missing his traveler's cheques. He just went on reading his map. Inu-Yasha closed his eyes for the rest of the brief ride.
Two stops and ten minutes later, Inu-Yasha and the man with the fedora followed the kids off the train. The man stopped at a payphone while Inu-Yasha took the stairs to the street; he found the teens headed to the Broadway Theatre.
He watched as the redhead discreetly broke away from the group to cross the street.
"Hey, kid..."
'Don't freak,' Shippo mentally chanted. 'Nobody knows anything; nobody saw anything.' He pushed his sunglasses further up his nose and turned around to face the source of the voice. "Yeah?" he answered.
The man from the subway with long white hair was striding towards him in a carefree manner. He grinned and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Nice trick you pulled in the subway. They teach that in school these days?"
"I have no clue what you're talking about," Shippo forced himself to reply in an even tone.
The man raised an eyebrow. "No?" He jerked his head in the direction he had come. "Poor guy's back at the platform on the phone trying to convince his wife his cheques were with him when he got on. He's near frantic. 'Heard him say their kid's expecting the money for this month's food and rent."
Shippo paled.
The man continued as if he hadn't noticed. "But if you're anything like your old man, you won't lose any sleep tonight." He paused. "I think he'd be proud."
His father--eleven months dead, had been one of the most respected Underground Lords of Chicago. His honour and fairness preceded him in all business transactions. And not only that, he was a gentleman in the public's eye and so giving of himself. What did this moron know?
"Shut-up!" Shippo snapped. "You don't know my father—he's none of your business! You don't know anything!"
The stranger raised a brow. "I know you stole that old man's traveler's cheques—I watched you on the train. You used the same technique that I was taught which mean you learned it from the same person that I did. And it's obvious enough Kinu Todd's your old man; you got his temper and half his looks, but I guess that's Saira's hair you got."
"Who are you?" Shippo asked.
"Just some old student of your dad's," the stranger replied. He procured a business card and handed it to Shippo.
Shippo looked down at the card as the man patted his shoulder. It was barely adorned with a thin gold border and a name in black script: Inu-Yasha.
"I'll be at the bar near Carnegie Deli in an hour and a half. You can let your old man know who called you out—he'll vouch for me. Meanwhile, I'll be returning these." The stranger held the traveler's cheques in his hand like a prize and grinned before blending into the crowd.
Shippo really wasn't all that surprised that Inu-Yasha had taken the cheques, or that he hadn't even felt the man at work. All the same, it smarted to be the one with the picked pocket and by some stranger no less. 'Bastard,' he thought.
Inu-Yasha was at the bar just like he said he would be, munching on soft pretzel bits and mustard and washing that down with a Guinness Stout. Just the sight of him irritated Shippo, but he marched ahead to the table.
I just came here to tell you that my father is dead," Shippo announced as he slapped a copy of his father's obituary in front of Inu-Yasha.
The arrogance faded as the white haired man read the surviving family. The gleam in his eye wasn't there anymore when he looked up. "Kinu was a good man. I'm sorry I didn't know about this, or I would've sent flowers or something."
"I didn't tell you that because I wanted your pity," Shippo retorted angrily.
"How's your mom holding up?"
"Terribly."
The table lapsed into silence for several moments before Inu-Yasha spoke up. "Technically speaking, you're next in line to take his position. You gonna do it?"
At this, Shippo scowled. "I can't. These two guys: Hiten and Manten have taken over like the Mafia."
"You don't mean the Thunder brothers?" Inu-Yasha asked incredulously.
Shippo gave him a slant eyed glare. "You know them?"
"Yeah. Back in my day they were a couple o' arrogant punks from Detroit. They moved in when your dad started showing me the tricks of the trade. I got into a few fights with Hiten when we were younger. I can't believe someone let those idiots take the stage." He munched thoughtfully on some pretzels. "So what're ya gonn' do 'bout it?" he asked around a mouthful of food.
Shippo looked disgusted. "I can't do anything," he insisted as he cradled his chin in his hands.
"Then why are you here?"
"My mom thought you might be able to help," the boy admitted reluctantly. "She told me to come find you."
"I can't get rid of the Thunder brats for you," Inu-Yasha told him. "If I did, the title would be mine by rights—is that what you want?"
Shippo glared at him.
"Look, kid. I wish I could help, I really do. But I can't fight your battle and I got my own thing going on with my crew--"
"Then let me join you," Shippo requested.
'No' was on his lips, but a memory of his younger self swallowing his pride to ask the elder Todd nearly the exact same thing stopped it.
"Don't make me regret it."
"Nowhere", Utah
"And as you can see, Figure 23a is a list of "no-no" mixers." The words DO NOT MIX THESE were scrawled at the top of the chalkboard and followed by a list of periodic symbols. "We'll stop here for today, class," Dr. Miroku Priest announced as he put the chalk down. "We'll explore the reactions in lab this week." He turned around to face the class.
It was filled to capacity; though almost forty wasn't a large number, it was crowded in the small stadium seating classroom. Many of the student's bumped elbows as they noted the lesson they were given and Miroku could usually only walk the small pathway that measured the length of the room between the front wall and the display lab table. He'd wanted something bigger, at least one of the smaller lecture halls, to be able to hold more students when teaching. But he was the greenest staff member; despite being the only double teacher of the Chemistry and Physics department, and was given whatever was left from the unwanted classrooms.
The students scrambled to finish copying the notes from the lecture and leave the classroom. In the back, a brunette raised a question. "Several of us are going to New York for the week long Micro Econ field study. Can you give us a really quick idea about what goes on in lab?"
Miroku leaned on the display counter top that divided him from his students. "Well, what do you think the normal result would be from colliding any oxidizer with something like...sulfur, in a confined space? Anybody?"
The brunette scrunched up her nose in thought. "They go boom?"
Miroku nodded. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I love science!" he said with conviction, banging on the countertop for emphasis. He smirked as the class laughed. "Yes, they do go 'boom'. Students on the field trip can get the detailed notes from a classmate who comes to lab." He let the class think he was done talking and allowed them to crowd the doorway.
"Oh, and don't forget your papers are due Friday--this includes all of you planning to be absent-- and I expect rough drafts to be appearing on my desk between now and Thursday."
The class groaned as their professor just grinned.
"Have a nice day."
The mail was already stacked neatly on his desk when he got to his office. Daniel, his TA must have dropped by on his lunch break to deliver it and finish grading the Physics tests from last week. Really, the boy had no life. He probably came in and toyed around with the few possessions Miroku had on his desk before grading the papers slowly to draw out the time. He seemed to relish having to stay late with Miroku on occasions and always hung around the office during his free time. When the professor suggested that Daniel might have something better to do with his time, the boy just shook his head and insisted he held no engagements. Pondering over this, Miroku wondered for the nth time if his assistant had a crush on him.
Flattering as that might be, Miroku was not into that and did not, could not, would not date students...ever again. That second semester of him teaching taught him quite a bit about the risks he was taking, and losing his job would be the least of his problems, he realized.
Of course, looking back on the situation, as he had many times, Miroku realized things were bound to happen when one became involved with the only daughter of a former Dean.
Miroku crossed the room and sifted through the mail: a quick note from his editor about his grant proposal sat on top of a chemistry lab equipment catalogue, the latest issue of Physics Today, an astronomy newsletter from a former student and a memo about a staff meeting next week. The catalogue would be fun to look through later, though Physics Today and the astronomy newsletter would both have to be bedtime material. It would be best to get to work on his proposal; he only had three weeks left after all.
The professor set down his mail when he had noticed he had missed one piece. The envelope was business standard, but thick and cream coloured. His name and the school's address had been handwritten in precise, but flowing script; the back was closed with a wax seal. There was a first class stamp but no return address. Carefully, Miroku broke the seal and pulled out the sheet of paper. The words on the paper nearly had him go into cardiac arrest. Someone was very interested in his work and wanted to speak with him about funding. Enclosed was the ticket to fly out to...Miroku blinked hard to make sure he read the ticket right. Los Angeles, California was still the flight destination the second and third time of double checking. And if the dates were right, he needed to talk to the Headmaster about a leave of absence now...
Seattle, Washington
Slayer Software Corp.
The rows of numbers and symbols ran across the screen, reflected in intelligent and hopeful brown eyes. If all was right, getting past the firewalls and other security measures was going to be nearly impossible. The suspense was nearly killing her. "That's it," Sango announced as she stood up and stretched her back for the fifth time that afternoon. "I really AM leaving now. And I'm not coming back for another twenty-four hours."
Her co-worker Mark leaned his head around the cubicle and peered at her over his glasses. "Yeah right. You haven't stayed away from this project for twenty-four minutes since we've started."
"I can't help it," Sango insisted. "The challenge has got me excited; some of this program has never been used before. Maybe we can stop hackers with this one."
Mark rolled his eyes before his head disappeared from view again. "Doubtful," he answered. "The only way to stop those kinds of losers is jail for life with no possibility of internet access."
Sango couldn't help the smile that crossed her face. "Not all hackers are bad."
"White Hats are just hackers with a formal degree and the American right to overcharge for their services," Mark insisted.
Sango rolled her eyes as she gathered her things. Sometimes Mark's absolute cynicism was too much to bear. "I'm leaving now; don't have a crisis, I won't be here."
"See ya," Mark called out.
The train was seven minutes late and the ride was bumpier than usual, but such matters at this point were trivial.
Sango knew that her maniacal grin was probably frightening the other passengers, but she couldn't contain her excitement.
If this version was truly bug-free and they hit no other snags, then Hiraikotsu would be in production to hit the mass market in an unprecedented nine months! If it worked as well as they hoped, then there was a possibility that the program could be a requisite in all future computers! Just the prospect was thrilling! HER anti-hacking software would be a household name all over the country, maybe even the world. And though it wasn't the Law-enforcement career her father had hoped she would choose, Sango felt immense satisfaction in knowing she could stop the bad guys in her own way.
The data transfer disk weighed heavily in her bag and on her mind as she made short work of the three square blocks from the station to her apartment. She wanted to attack the system as hard as possible NOW, but knew she had to wait and clear her mind so she wasn't blind to any loopholes or mistakes. That would be her downfall.
Kirara, her rescued lab cat, was waiting at the door when Sango arrived. Her large red eyes stared at her mistress soulfully as her double tails swished back and forth patiently. Kirara mewed plaintively.
"Alright already," Sango laughed. "I'm home and here to submit to your every demand."
She debated whether she wanted food, a shower, or a nap first as she fed the cat. Food, she decided. At least a snack while she paid her whatever bills had come today, and then a shower after her nap.
There were no bills today when she checked the post, but an issue of Physics Today and a postcard advertising an upcoming gun show accompanied a surprise letter from her father. The postcard and the magazine were tossed on the bed for later inspection in favour of reading the letter first.
Her father was doing well in their New Jersey home, though he was feeling his age more and more as he watched his son navigate the ins and outs of high school. Kohaku was pretty popular among the female students, despite being pegged as incredibly shy. Their father attributed the boy's popularity to his inherited boyish charm (and Sango still thought it was his freckles).
The nap had been wonderful but odd. She reflected back on her dream as she did her yoga stretches. Hiraikotsu had been an actual large bone carved boomerang which she used to slay the demon-esque hackers.
Darkness greeted her as she stepped into The World Below, the local computer club. Dark became dim lighting as her eyes adjusted and the glow of thirty-some monitors became the focal point. The World Below was Sango's third love. The club had opened as a café that was accessible to the most promising nerds and amateur White Hats. Some came for the classes the staff taught; some came to practice or help. Sango came for all of it. Here, she recruited an unbiased opinion and possible tips on how to fix her mistakes.
"Hey, Sango," a young man with red hair greeted in a low voice.
"Hi, David. Busy night?"
"Steady," he agreed. "We got two designers working on a new game on Five and Six, there's a lot of call and response tonight and speaking of..." He motioned her to join him on the useful side of the monitoring station he had been sitting at. "We got a flagger."
The main monitor at the station had the ability to receive any and all data input or viewed on any of the other computers in the room at any given time. Computer Thirty-Two's screen was brought up for viewing. Numbers and several commands were rapidly filling up the screen.
"Are those...?" Sango trailed off, not quite sure what she was seeing.
"Yeah," David confirmed. "Little bugger's been in here all afternoon trying to get past the parental monitors so he can look at porn. I felt bad for him, so I gave him a bunch of old DnD cheat codes."
At this, Sango snorted. "You're horrible."
"How's work coming?"
"I'm so close," she gushed. "Maybe one or two more runs. Wanna check it for me?" She pulled out the disk.
"Sure. I'll set up on Nineteen. You watch hacker boy."
Sango settled herself in David's vacant seat and pulled out a Tom Clancy novel. He was right about the amount of people they trafficked, but there was no real need for help or much input from the monitors this evening. After a few pages, she decided to check her e-mail.
The screen popped up instantly and Sango entered her information. There were a few emails in her inbox, two jokes from David, one from a coworker about the system check she was scheduled for next week and one from an unfamiliar address. It didn't seem to be a virus and it wasn't spam.
Miss Kandra:
I have become very interested in your line of work as of late. I am to understand that I could greatly benefit from your expertise in networking and firewalls. It would please me greatly if
you meet me to further discuss your portfolio and a job opportunity. I have included the url address of the confirmation flight page at the bottom. If these dates do not suit your schedule, please let me know which dates would. My information is in the tagline.
Someone was interested in her work? A possible job opportunity in California sounded too good to be true, and those things usually were, but there was too much elaboration for this to be a joke. And anyone willing to spend the money to fly her out to L.A. and put her up in a suite obviously deserved a chance before she reported them to the Better Business Bureau for fraudulent claims. She printed out the confirmation page and reread the e-mail. Two days wasn't a lot of time to notify the proper people, but she was overdue for a personal holiday anyways.
Chihuahua, Mexico
The radio warbled in Spanish and the cab shuddered with every bump in the road it hit. Inu-Yasha thought about the extra dry martini he'd had on the flight from New York to El Paso and the olive he'd regretfully left in the glass. What he wouldn't give for another one now...
New York had turned out to be predictably disappointing. Kouga had disappeared and no one had seen or heard from him in a few years. The landlady of his apartment said he was in a hurry to leave and was on his cell, speaking hurriedly in Spanish. He contacted a few people to scour the border side of Mexico for information and that had led him to this run down little place. No one in the neighbourhood had running water and most of the electricity was pirated, but a few of the local knew of the señor that matched Kouga's description and pointed him in the direction of Kouga's second love—a racetrack.
The race track was no more than compacted dirt. Wood and barbed wire pretended they were strong enough to keep the crowd from the track proper, or vice versa. Chicken wire had been set up in the centre of the oval to contain actual chickens. The whole thing was run down and dusty and just screamed third world country.
The driver was paid in cash and offered a short 'gracias' in return when they parked. The crowded was settling in and it looked as if the race was about to start, so Inu-Yasha picked a place on the fence to rest his forearms on and watch the show.
A gunshot rang out, startling the chickens as the junkiest and rustiest group of cars took off around the track. The track wasn't equally made and there wasn't room for of the cars to run together at either turn so it made the race even more interesting to a certain degree. After the first six laps it became apparent who the better drivers were as the select began to break away from the pack; pouring on the speed and hugging the turns. This continued until there were only three cars really worth watching. The first and second cars appeared to be close side by side, blocking the third car from passing either of them. The driver of the third car wasn't pleased with that and began tapping their back bumpers.
Horns honked from the first two cars in response, agitating the chickens further. Both of the first two cars would take turns speeding up and slowing down almost to a halt only to speed up again in an effort to slow down the third car, but neither let it by. As the trio reached the turn of the nineteenth lap, the third car gave a not-so-gentle nudge to the right back corner of the outside car. The driver of said outside car yelled in Spanish as he unintentionally crowded the inside car. Both of the first cars crashed into the chicken pen.
Feathers flying.
Horns blaring.
Enraged cursing in Spanish.
Generally harassed poultry.
Ignoring all of that, the third car floored it and zoomed across the finish line.
Inu-Yasha glanced around to observe the mixed reactions of the 'crowd', some thirty-odd Mexicans. Some of them were pleased, most were pissed. All of them excited and loud. The silver haired man tugged the wrinkles out of his suit as he ambled along to congratulate the victor. Maybe he could give him a good scare while he was at it.
He found the driver and the track owner in the shade of the lean to that posed as an office and an entrance gate. The driver was covered in dust and sweat and his usual long dark ponytail was pulled up in a floppy Japanese knot, easy to wear a helmet over. He was in desperate need of a good shave. But he was grinning like a madman as the owner grudgingly counted out the prize money into his hand.
"Do they know you're not an amateur?" Inu-Yasha called by way of greeting. He grinned at the driver's stunned expression.
"You're out," was all the driver could manage.
"You're a bastard to find in a foreign country, Kouga," Inu-Yasha went on. "I don't speak Spanish, but I think I almost agreed to marry this really old broad if she told me where to find this place. Ugly too."
"Fuck, man, you're really out!" Kouga repeated excitedly. "When?"
"Just a few days ago," Inu-Yasha admitted. "'Promised my parole officer I wouldn't leave the state."
"Everything's good? You're not in trouble already?"
"No, but there's just one thing I've got to get off my chest," Inu-Yasha admitted.
"Eh?" Kouga prompted.
The silver haired young man smiled maliciously as he sent his fist into his companion's mid-section.
Kouga let out a whoosh of air and bent over double. After a second or two he managed to nod slightly and spit in the dirt. "I guess I deserved that," he groaned.
"No," Inu-Yasha corrected. His next punch had Kouga reeling back and covering his eye.
"Fuck!" the younger man cried.
"THAT you deserved," Inu-Yasha concluded. He placed a friendly hand on his companion's shoulder. "C'mon, let's go get a drink."