Akira deals with the remainders
Kimi was trying to hold it together. Judging by her red eyes and the way she kept wincing whenever anyone else spoke, their scientist was probably a bit hungover and had cried recently.
Kurona was standing back with her arms crossed, much more stoic, but the sunglasses she was hiding behind indicated that she might have also over-imbibed a bit.
They weren't even outside—they had snuck into a gray underground maintenance room full of pipes, boilers, and electrical panels.
"Are you ready?" Akira had the anxious feeling of pushing baby birds out of the nest, even if they were both survivors in their own way.
Kurona nodded decisively. Kimi gave a frail smile. "I know the rules. Keep everything off the record, no cell phones or computers. If I have something to say, I'll leave a can of coffee on the windowsill, and she'll be in touch."
"And I keep watch from a distance. Both at her apartment, and as close to the work site as I can get without being noticed," Kurona continued. "If I see the signal, she'll go to the movies in the next couple of days. Get a ticket to the same show, find out what she says in the theater."
"Correct," Akira said. "Remember to wear some sort of disguise, so no one gets footage of you two together. And if you find anything that you think we should know about, you come back down here and tell us. In person." They were up against someone far more high-tech than them. The only way to go up against that was to stay away from technology altogether—use the old-school Cold War spy tricks that didn't leave any sort of digital footprint.
Kurona sat back silently, but she may have wearing an unimpressed expression behind those aviators.
Akira watched to make sure they both were listening, then said to Kimi, "I had Chie Hori see what she could find out about the number you're supposed to contact to return to work. It goes to a satellite laboratory leased by the CCG. I think you need to wash or toss everything you wore down here and take a shower before you head there. If the doctor's up to his old tricks, there might be a couple of sharp noses around."
Kimi rubbed her temples. "Got it."
"At least you look like you just had a little too much fun on vacation," Akira commented. She glanced over at her boyfriend, who had come along to see her off.
Nishiki just grabbed Kimi in a hug and rocked her back and forth for several moments. He finally let her go and stepped back, turning away to discreetly dab at his eyes. "Please don't get yourself hurt, and come back to me soon."
Kimi looked him over. "Of course not. This will all be over before you know it."
It seemed to take her a great effort to tear herself away and disappear through the door. She moved quickly without looking back, as if any hesitation would break her resolve. It led to the basement of a popular mall, where she would quickly blend back in to the crowd and possibly even buy some fake souvenirs to share with her coworkers.
Kurona would follow through a different door a couple of minutes later.
The three of them walked the length of the room, on high alert for any janitors or maintenance techs that might be coming through.
At the second door, Nishiki paused and said, "Wait."
He scratched the back of his neck and looked around awkwardly, at anything but Kurona. "So…I know we've kind of had our differences but…I'd appreciate you keeping an eye out for her."
"Differences," she scoffed. "You called me names like some annoying little schoolyard bully."
"You called me names!"
Kurona and Nishiki both opened their mouths and launched into fast-paced bickering.
It was impossible to ignore how…young these ghouls were. In most other walks of life, when trying to accomplish huge projects with so much at stake, there were plenty of mentors around to lean on. Hell, even with the CCG's high turnover rates, Akira had once had access to centuries of combined experience when she needed outside wisdom. Here…not only did ghouls skew young, but they had no blueprint for what they were doing.
They were very much making it all up as they went along, cobbling together plans from good enough intentions and best guesses. But crap, why did she have to side with underdogs that were such…underdogs?
"Can you two wrap this up," she interjected.
The two of them ran out of steam and looked at Akira, seemingly surprised to see her still there. Maybe they were distracting themselves, and each other, with the quarreling. Now the gravity of the situation was really starting to set in.
As gently as she could, she said, "Let's get a move on, I don't want to be here all day."
"Fine," Kurona said, but the stiffness in her shoulders said otherwise.
After Kurona left, their halved group disappeared back the way they came, through a broken bit of wall hidden behind a cabinet full of blueprints.
The walk back was quiet, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence—more down to the fact that neither Akira nor Nishiki were chatterboxes, and both were lost in their thoughts.
When they were nearly there, Nishiki finally broke the silence. He looked at Akira. "Do you think they need someone to babysit Ichika today? I could use a distraction."
She laughed a little. "I'm sure if you ask really, really nicely something can be worked out."
Shinohara was ready for more activity. The RC cell treatment had done wonders for repairing and perhaps even strengthening atrophied muscle, but he was still far weaker than he once was. So, part of his unofficial rehab was going to the gym—under the careful watch of his appointed guardian for that day, of course.
They were all still confident he'd make a break for it the second he thought he could get away with it. He spent a lot of time watching everyone. He didn't speak much but he often appeared deep in thought. Whether that was planning an escape or taking in the ghouls from the other side was anyone's guess.
It was Akira's turn to stay with him that day. She was spotting him on a very low-weight bench press, discussing future plans between sets. Specifically, what to do with their kidnapped investigator.
"It's not as if we're going to hold a gun to your head and force you to make a hostage video. That would invalidate the whole point of this."
"You'd have to hold a gun to my head. I don't think I'm comfortable with doing that." He wiped his face with a towel. "Besides, won't everyone just think a video like that has been faked somehow?"
"They will," Akira conceded. "But at some point it won't matter, whether you make a video willingly or if people think it's fake. All we have to do is trot you out. The fact of you being alive and healthy will be more important evidence than anything you say or do."
"So why not let me go now? I have family, friends, colleagues…a lot of people I'd like to see again."
She swallowed hard, not wanting to admit the truth.
He looked at her carefully. "In case you need me for a hostage exchange, right?"
Akira nodded. "I'm not sure yet…whether the safer play is releasing you now or keeping you here as a bargaining chip. And I'm not going to make a move until I have an answer I'm confident in."
Shinohara lay back on the bench, ready for another set. "It feels like I blinked and everything is different. I still don't know which way is up or if this is one big trick being played on me. Until you force my hand, I won't do anything unless I'm completely sure it's the right thing. Whatever happens, I'm the one who has to find a way to sleep at night, not you."
"Oh, I understand that completely. I just don't agree."
She was frustrated that he wasn't blindly cooperating with any of them, but at the same time she couldn't fault him. His heart was in the right place, and he was very brave to stick to his values in a situation where he believed he would be killed for them. Amon was right to respect him.
"Agree to disagree for now, then. Come on, I think I have a few more reps in the tank."
They were about to call it a day when Ayato strolled in.
He zeroed in on Shinohara and cut to the chase. "You were a special investigator, right? Were you any good?"
"I was half-decent, I'm told." The older man re-racked the bar and sat up.
"You're the one who got the Corpse Collector, right?" The boy pressed his lips together in a hard line, then added, "Arata."
It looks like someone let that slip. Shit. Racking her brain, she recalled a sight that had seemed innocuous at the time—as the wedding was winding down, she'd offhandedly noticed a stumbling, drunken Yomo being dragged back to his room by Ayato.
He hesitated to answer, but he seemed to have picked up on the fact that the ghouls preferred people who said what they meant instead of polite fictions. "Yeah. Me and Mado's father."
Ayato shot a poisonous look at Akira.
She quickly stepped between Shinohara and the boy. "If you're going to try and settle some score, this isn't the time or the place."
She quickly took stock of the other few inhabitants in the room, in case a fight broke out. Behind them, Banjo had ceased his dumbbell curls and was watching carefully. He might not be much help in a fight, but he could be good for defusing the situation. And a single scream would be enough to summon plenty of people.
Shinohara looked at Akira, curious and wary.
Akira explained, "This punk is Touka's brother. Corpse Collector was their father."
"I'm not here for that." Ayato lowered his eyes and bit out, "I need to know how you did it. How you beat my dad."
"Why would anyone want to hear about that?"
His grumbled response was unintelligible.
"Speak up. I can't hear you," Akira said tensely.
He glared at her, then looked away. Set his jaw to talk. "My sister and…my niece. I need to know how to protect them better. And there's no one better than you to tell me how to keep them safe from investigators."
Hmm. Surprisingly sweet. And grown-up. She looked back at the revived investigator. "Well, do you want a project or are you booked up?" Maybe he would see it as helping the enemy, or maybe he was bored enough to consider it.
"Do you trust him to be telling the truth?"
"No, I don't trust him at all. But I do think he's being honest about his motivations right now. If you're willing, I don't see any problem. It's not like I'd let him cart you off down some dark tunnel."
He considered her blank face. "If you were trying to kill me, I think it'd be simpler than whatever this is." He waved his hand between her and Ayato.
"You're correct. I know where Kimi put all the leftover medical supplies, I'd probably just overdose you on some epinephrine. It'd look like a heart attack."
Shinohara just looked at her for a moment, then burst out in laughter. "You sound so much like your mother sometimes. It's spooky."
That was surprising. She often heard stories about her father from Amon, but there weren't too many people left who remembered her mother. "I…um, thank you?"
"Some people wouldn't consider that a compliment. She was an intimidating woman. I think she only gave your father the time of day because he was the only one insane enough to talk to her like she was normal."
She tilted her head to the side, suspicious. "Are you trying to butter me up for some reason?"
Shinohara frowned, suddenly looking sad. "No, just got lost in some memories, I suppose." He turned to Ayato. "Alright, kid, you've got yourself a deal."
Ayato nodded. "But also, if you tell anyone about this, I'll kill you." He whipped around and pointed at Banjo. "You, too!"
"Sure thing, buddy." Shinohara looked down at his leg. His mobility at the moment mostly depended on crutches or an old wheelchair, no high-tech prosthesis like Juzo. "Though I'm not sure what you expect of me."
"I'm sure you'll figure out something. We'll call it occupational therapy." Akira smiled. This could work out surprisingly well.
"The stuff that made you dangerous wasn't just fighting, right?" Ayato pointed to his temple. "Most of it's in here anyways."
"All right," the investigator said. "Let me see how you throw a punch, for starters."
Soon, small groups started getting sent out with the goal of scouting the CCG's movements. If any enemy engagement occurred, orders were to break quinques and get away with minimal casualties.
The first few skirmishes were considered a success. Their efforts resulted in more destroyed quinques than injuries, which was the goal.
In general the defected investigators remained underground and just served as consultants. It didn't take long for Akira to go stir crazy, though. It required a bit of wheedling, but she got herself attached to quite an interesting mission.
She was tasked with retrieving as many copies as possible of King Bileygr from their last known location. They wanted to keep it quiet, and Akira was the only one with a workable idea on how to do that.
She might have had a little too much fun planning it.
First step was to do recon on the warehouse, a clearinghouse for street dated and remaindered books from Takatsuki's publisher. It only took a couple of days of watching the place to notice the lax attitude towards the delivery drivers that were always coming and going. Bingo, Akira thought.
As uncomfortable as it made her, Akira handpicked Hinami to assist her. The girl was the only one with the right look, the right skills, and enough composure to get the job done.
"And it has to be me?" Hinami fussed at her khaki uniform. They were climbing out of the cabin of a delivery truck, parked near the front of the warehouse.
"You're not all over the news right now, and let's face it, you'll elicit the most sympathy."
The girl made a discontent face at that.
Setting her hands on the girl's shoulders, Akira said, "It'll be easy. You just look cute and hold that big box, and if anyone talks to you, you act confused and nervous."
Hinami nodded, looking determined. "I can do it."
Akira adjusted the cap on Hinami's head a little. She did look very charming in her delivery girl outfit. "Perfect. Now give us a show."
The ghoul lifted the heavy box with ease, then readjusted her grip to look a little more unbalanced. Walking towards the main office area, she looked around with a nervous expression on her face. It might have been acting, it might have been real, but it worked like a charm—some warehouse employee on the way back from a smoke break ran up, swiped his card at the front entrance, and held the door for Hinami.
Akira returned to the truck and drove around to the back of the warehouse.
The vehicle had been salvaged from a junkyard. She'd convinced a couple of Cochlea ghouls—hoodlums who'd made ends meet at a chop shop before the CCG got them—to get it working again, and to give it the same paint job as a local document destruction service's van. The disguise wasn't perfect and it probably only had a month of life left in it, which was fine. They only needed it for the afternoon.
By the time she got her vehicle situated by the loading dock, the door was rolling up.
And behind the door was Hinami, with a bright smile on her face. "You were right," she whispered as Akira walked up next to her. "Wear a uniform, carry something, and act like you know where you're going, and no one will stop you!"
"See? We're in—no fighting, no alarms, no chaos." Akira looked over the girl's shoulder, at shelf after shelf of boxes, filling the length of the building. "Did you figure out where they are?" The other part of Hinami's task was to walk through the warehouse, scouting out where the books might be.
Hinami nodded excitedly. "There's a whole stack of boxes covered in stickers saying the publisher will sue your pants off if you open them, but it's not saying what the books are. That number you said to look for is on the label, though."
That was fantastic news. The publisher would need to keep track of the books somehow. They were hoping—banking—on no one having the time or energy to change the ISBN in every database and bookstore inventory, so the number would likely stay the same anywhere the product would need identification. From there it was just a matter of checking the back of Banjo's copy to get the bar code number.
Now—for the lie that she'd practiced with the girl all morning.
"Good enough for me," said Akira. "Here's what you need for the next part."
She handed off a clipboard with the best fake PO that Chie Hori could mock up, supposedly saying that it was her job to cart books with that ISBN away for destruction in an industrial shredder. They'd aimed high—guessing more boxes than could possibly be there—so however many books were here, they could claim they were just stopping at one warehouse of several to collect the full order.
Pulling her own hat a little lower, throwing on some sunglasses to hide more of her face, and following a bit behind Hinami, Akira passed the stack of mysterious stickered boxes. She picked one box up for a closer look—it was pretty heavy, full-of-hardcover-books heavy—and nodded at Hinami.
Looking around, the young ghoul waved down an employee at the other end of the aisle.
"Hello, what do you need?"
She handed him the forged paper. Her voice was nervous and thready, which helped sell the lie. "I'm supposed to take these books away for shredding, but I was told that I was picking up one or two boxes from this location and the rest at the next. Do you have a cart or a dolly I can borrow to load all this onto my truck?"
He looked at Akira, who was pretending to have a bit of trouble getting a good grip on her box. "Here, let me grab that for you."
Akira handed him the box and stepped back. "Thanks."
"Sure! Hey, Nonaka, get over here and help me move this real quick!"
And that was how she got them to steal the books for her.
"Thank you so much," said Hinami, while Akira shut the back door of their truck. "You're a lifesaver. Could you just sign here before I go?"
She handed him the clipboard.
As he signed his name, he spoke. "No problem. We've all been screwed over by management—manglement, I call 'em!"
Hinami took back the paper, inspected it, and nodded. As she climbed back into the passenger's seat, she smiled at him and waved out the window as Akira drove off. "I need to get going. Thanks again!"
"I can't believe that worked!"
"Asking someone for a favor is a quick way to get them to trust you. People want to be helpful."
Hinami looked over at Akira. "Anyone in Aogiri Tree would have broken in at night, or just killed everyone there and taken the books."
"Well, I like to work smarter, not harder. We even got them to move the books for us."
Akira pulled the truck over into a quiet parking lot of the industrial park area. Racing around to the back, they threw open the door and anxiously ripped open the first box to reveal the cover of King Bileygr.
"Fantastic," said Akira. She took out her burner phone for the day. "Check the rest of the boxes to be sure. I'll check in."
The line rang. Irimi, the overseer of operations at the moment, picked up. It was her job to stay perched at some high point and coordinate everyone who was above ground.
"Hey, we've got the books, they're in the truck at the drop-off point." She gave a detailed description of where they were abandoning the truck for the next team of ghouls to take over the mission and start distributing books through the city. That part had to be done by the stealthiest ghouls, the ones most unknown to the CCG, to avoid detection.
"Perfect," said Irimi. "I'll pass it on to the next team immediately. Now, you're a short distance from another team that's having some trouble. I need you to get over there and help them with the situation that's developing."
"That doesn't sound good."
"It isn't. They're at the container port at the south end of the area you're in. Come prepared to fight." Irimi gave them their next destination and hung up.
She grabbed the small rucksack they'd brought with them for the day and rooted through it for several items. First, the knives she'd been gifted from Juzo. It might be a bit macabre, but they were sharp, easy to conceal, easy to transport, and made of quinque steel without being the dead giveaway her quinque case was. She had practically no skill with throwing knives, but they still made for a decent handheld weapon.
Plus…even she could sense how tasteless it would be to bring her quinque out on this particular mission.
Secondly, she pulled out a mask. Akira now had a mask of her own—just a plain black half mask with a hood to hide her hair. While most ghouls wore a mask to keep their faces from being discovered, Akira was wearing a mask because she would be recognized and likely targeted immediately.
Akira looked at Hinami. "Change of plans. We need to head south."
Next week: Akira auditions for Cirque du Soleil