Folie a Cinq
by Technomad
Five years after Okishima
It was dark in the alley. Off in the distance, fireworks lit up the sky. It was a public holiday, and all across the Greater East Asia Republic, there were celebrations. But not everybody was celebrating. One of them was Sakura Ogawai, who was currrently huddled in a dark corner of the alley. She could not be seen from the street, since she was hunched behind a smelly, garbage-filled dumpster.
Sakura straightened up. Disguised in a smelly, ratty overcoat and hat, she looked like any of a thousand derelicts and vagabonds that infested the streets of Tokyo. Respectable people tried not to notice them, and the Greater East Asia Republic did its best to ignore their existence. That made pretending to be one a very useful thing for someone like her.
Pulling out a folding spring-bow crossbow, she pointed it up and triggered it. It fired a grappling hook up onto the sheer wall that formed one side of the alley, which caught at the top of the wall. The hook trailed a light rope ladder, which she tested to make sure that the hook was securely caught. Finding it secure and solid, she shucked off the smelly coat and hat she had worn, swarming up the ladder as fast as she could. Once she was up, she pulled the ladder up behind her. She headed over to a skylight. A few sure moves of a tool she took out of her pocket, and the skylight was open. Hooking her ladder to the side of the skylight, she scrambled down into the dark warehouse.
Once she was safely on the floor, she flicked on a pocket flashlight. With its aid, she quickly moved over to one wall, opening a breaker box. She threw one breaker. Pulling out a cell phone, she opened it and hit the speed-dial.
"All's clear. You can come in."
She moved over to the front of the warehouse and threw a switch, opening a large door. A truck backed in as she guided it along with motions of her flashlight, indicating when to go straight back and when to stop. Once the truck had stopped, she lowered the door and turned on the interior lights. All around her, huge stacks of cardboard cases stood, taller than she was.
The truck's doors opened, and Shuya Nanahara and Kazuhiko Yamamoto got out. Sakura came over and gave Kazuhiko a quick hug. "Enough of that! Let's get cracking!" snapped Shuya. Since their escape, he had lost a lot of the happy-go-lucky attitude he'd had in Shiroiwa. Now, particularly when they were "on the job," he was all business and focussed relentlessly on their goals.
Kaz opened the back of the truck and pulled out the built-in ramp, lowering it to the ground. Meanwhile, Shuya and Sakura went over to one wall, where some hand-trucks waited. Loading hand-trucks with cardboard cases, they hauled them up the ramp and into the truck, returning for more as quickly as they could.
Once they had as many cases aboard as the truck would hold, they replaced the hand-trucks. Sakura turned off the lights, opened the door, and watched as Kaz and Shuya drove the truck out onto the deserted street. Once the truck was safely clear, she shut the door, went over to replace the fuse she had taken out, and clambered back up her ladder. When she was on the roof, she pulled up her ladder, shut and fastened the skylight, and lowered her ladder so she could get back to street level.
When she was back on one of the main streets, she blended in with the people that were about. To the eye, she was just another young woman coming back from an evening at the gymnasium. Soon she was safely aboard a subway train, heading back home.
When she got home, Sakura found her friend Noriko Nakagawa waiting for her, by a crackling radio. "Anything of interest, Nori-chan?"
"No. Traffic on the police bands is perfectly normal. There doesn't seem to be any activity near that warehouse."
"Good. Keep on listening. I'll sit up with you. I won't feel quite safe till the boys come home."
Several hours later, the boys were home. Noriko and Sakura greeted their boyfriends happily. "Welcome back! Nothing went wrong?"
"Smooth as could be," said Kazuhiko, giving his girlfriend a hug. Beside them, Shuya and Noriko were also hugging. "The truck and cargo are safe in that garage we rented, 'way up north in Maebashi. The subways were full of people celebrating the holiday, and nobody took any notice of us." He pulled out a bottle. "This was on special at the liquor store just down the street."
"Let's wait for Shogo to come, so we can all share it," Noriko said. That met with general approval. Shogo Kawada was their main contact with the Yakuza, and had been expected to join them in a holiday celebration at one of their favored private clubs.
After another hour, Shogo came in. His scarred face lit up at the sight of his friends. "All's well?"
"All's well," Noriko reassured him. "I was monitoring the police radio, and watching their computer nets, and there's no indication that they know anything's wrong where we were."
"Good. We'll sit on the stuff for a few months. Let the fuss die down."
The next day, their exploit was all over the news. The Asahi Shinbun had a front-page story: Mysterious Robbery at Liquor Storehouse! The breathless story below the headline told about how two hundred cases of rare, imported whiskey had been stolen from a secure warehouse of the Greater East Asia Republic Liquor Control Authority.
"Police spokesmen have issued a statement, saying that they are on the trail of the robbers, and confidently expect to recover the liquor and make arrests shortly," Shuya read out to his friends, as they relaxed around the table after breakfast.
"I'll be sure to keep an eye on things. If they look like they're getting close, I'll find ways to throw them off the scent." Noriko smiled as they all gave her a quick round of applause. She loved praise. Then they all went off to their day jobs, just like the nice normal people they seemed to be on the surface. Nobody would have dreamed that they were, or would have been had the government known they'd survived, the Greater East Asia Republic's most wanted fugitives. Since their escape from the Battle Royale Program, they had settled comfortably into new lives under new names in Tokyo. They shared living quarters, and while their arrangement was a little unusual, their neighbors suspected nothing of their double lives.
Noriko Nakagawa
Noriko walked calmly into the main Tokyo police headquarters, showing her employee ID to the security guard at the door. "Good morning, sir!" she chirped.
"Good morning, Miss Ito. I hope your life is going well," he answered. Noriko, or "Ema Ito," as she was now known, was a general favorite. She had started as a data-entry clerk, but had worked her way up to where she was one of the key people in charge of the police computers. She had access to every computer the police had. This had proven very useful on many occasions.
Sakura Ogawai
Meanwhile, Sakura was clocking in at her employer's place of business. She was the only one unsurprised at the news that was making the whole office buzz.
"Did you hear? There was a huge robbery at the government's main liquor warehouse! Over a hundred cases of imported whiskey disappeared! Our bosses are tearing their hair out about it!" Sakura's friend Michiko, the woman she was closest to at the office, leaned forward and whispered: "They're talking about firing some people!"
"Really? Hope it's not us!" Since their employer was a large, very reputable security firm, Sakura knew that heads would roll over her and her friends' latest little exploit. She smiled a secretive smile. She had been able to be sure the skylight she had used to enter was not alarmed, and she had known just which breaker would put the alarm system out of commission. Since the breaker was safely back on, she anticipated a lot of head-scratching about why the alarms hadn't notified the police that the building had been entered.
Sakura headed off to her desk, secure in the knowledge that she was very unlikely to come under suspicion. She had had a hand in the design of the security systems on the government's liquor warehouse, but so had many others. She had, admittedly, made sure that the particular skylight she had used was not alarmed, but she didn't think there was much chance of it being brought home to her. Even if it were, she could plead an honest mistake. The worst that might happen would be getting fired.
Shuya Nanahara
Shuya showed up for his job, bright, cheerful and chipper as always. He gave his boss a friendly greeting. "Another day at work, sir!"
"Good to see you, Nakamura-san! We've got a delivery to Kabuki-cho. It's in the third truck down. You'll find the address on this." His boss handed Shuya a bill of lading. Shuya looked it over and nodded. He had delivered to that address before, and, unlike a lot of Tokyo addresses, it was on a main street and not too hard to find. As he pulled out into the street, he took a slug from a flask of strong coffee. He had been up most of the night, after all.
Driving a delivery truck was a job he enjoyed. And while he did so, he kept his eyes open for opportunities for his friends and himself. He would take pictures discreetly with his cell phone, and when he got the chance, would note down addresses that might repay a late-night visit.
After an hour of fighting his way through Tokyo traffic, he got where he was going. The man he was supposed to meet was waiting for him. "Ah, Nakamura-san! Good to see you! Will you help me unload this?" Willingly, Shuya went around to the back of the truck and lowered the ramp, helping the customer lug crates of food into the back of his restaurant. When he was done, he drove off, smiling at the size of the tip he'd earned. The entertainment district was always profitable.
Kazuhiko Yamamoto
By that time, Kazuhiko was busy at work, too. His job was as a mid-level office drone in an insurance company, and he often came across information that would help his friends in their "night job." Inventories of valuables and descriptions of security measures would get quietly photographed on his cell phone, He yawned, and made up his mind that when he got home, he was going to make an early night of it.
Shogo Kawada
Shogo was deep in work, too. He was a computer technician at one of the best computer companies in the greater Tokyo area, and repaired and installed computers at many different facilities. With his access, he was able to put in "back doors" in many computer systems. These had been very helpful, many times. He could also access some bank systems, and used those to milk government accounts, making sure to not take too much from any one account at any one time.
For all of the five fugitives, it was a routine day at work. Noriko had all their cell phones on speed-dial, and they knew that if she spotted anything in the police computers that indicated that the government even knew that they had survived the BR Program, much less had a clue about their current identities and locations, she would give them a quick heads-up. Hopefully, they'd have enough time to disappear again and take new names.
By that time, thanks to Shogo's and Kazuhiko's computer skills, and Noriko's intimate knowledge of government computer systems, they had alternate identities all ready to step into. They had the correct identification papers for those identities hidden in a safe place away from their home, and money in bank accounts under those names.
If the government got on their trails, they would quietly disappear, saying nothing to anybody, and pop up in another city under impeccably-backed-up new false names, get new jobs, and go on with their lives.
They lived on their regular salaries. Since all five of them lived together, they saved money on lodgings, even in Tokyo's insanely expensive market, and they didn't spend a lot on entertainment. The money they made from their criminal activities was banked under their other false names, until they could find a way to get it out of the Greater East Asia Republic's jurisdiction.
When they got together at the end of the day, Noriko reported: "No sign of anybody coming after us, people. The government still think we're dead."
"What do they know about that job we pulled last night?" asked Kazuhiko. Since he had done most of the planning for that caper, he was professionally interested in whether the police had any clues.
"They found your ladder, Sakura," Noriko reported. "A lot of their attention's on that particular job, since it was in a government warehouse. The Liquor Control people are screaming. They'd love to get their hands on us for that."
"We wore gloves and caps. They won't find any hairs or fingerprints," Shuya pointed out.
"We'll sit on the liquor for maybe six months or so. Let things die down. Then you can talk to our contacts, Shogo. See what they'll pay for it." Sakura said.
"I won't try to move the whole load at once. If we're trying to sell them that much, they might figure out that it was from this job, and they'd have an incentive to betray me," Shogo rumbled. They all nodded, and turned to other things.
Several months later, Noriko reported that the police had more or less given up looking for the stolen liquor. "Oh, they'd still very much like to find it, don't get me wrong," she said, her smile making her dimples come out, "but there've been enough other crimes that it's been pushed to the back burner."
"You're telling us!" Sakura snorted, looking at the Asahi Shinbun. The papers were reporting on a large underworld war, apparently between the Yakuza and Korean kangpae. The Koreans were moving aggressively into Japan, muscling into many rackets the Yakuza had traditionally controlled, and the Japanese mobsters were fighting back. There'd been murders, and both sides' businesses had been bombed and burned. The police were working overtime to try to get things back under control.
"Do you think it's time for us to move that liquor, then?" Kaz asked. "It's still perfectly safe, where it is. Nobody's been sniffing around."
"I can ask our contact," Shogo said. "We don't have to sell the whole load in one go. As a matter of fact, parceling it out might get us more money."
"How should we move the stuff?" Sakura asked.
"I can get us a truck," Shuya said. "I know a place where they've got trucks for sale, and I got copies of the keys. All we'll need is to get some legitimate license plates, and I can do that easily enough."
"Good," Shogo said. "Then I'll have a talk with our contact. I know where he'll be in a few days."
Three days later, Shogo Kawada was sitting in a quiet cafe in a residential area, far from where he and his friends lived. He had a menu in front of him, and as he decided on the beef-and-soba, another man slid into the booth across from him.
"Ah, it's good to see you, Kobayashi-kun!" The Yakuza didn't know Shogo's current alias, much less his real name. What the mobster didn't know, he couldn't spill, after all. "It's been too long! Where have you been keeping yourself?"
"Oh, around and about. Is there something on the menu that appeals to you, Nakamura-san?" Shogo was always careful to speak deferentially to the Yakuza. Nakamura, and the rest of his gumi, thought that Shogo was the representative of a group of independent thieves, which was not far at all from the truth. They would have been appalled to find out that Shogo's group included two women as full members. The Yakuza was emphatically an all-male organization.
"The tempura soba looks good. You buying?"
"Sure am. We did well lately." Shogo signalled the waitress, who came over and took Nakamura's order with flirtatious smiles at both men. Soon they were tucking into delicious food, and conversation was suspended until both bowls were empty.
"What have you got for me?" Nakamura finally asked. Shogo smiled rather grimly and pulled out a paper sack. He opened it, and pulled out a bottle. Nakamura's eyes went wide.
"Scotch whiskey, and single-malt! This stuff's worth a small fortune!" The single bottle Shogo was showing him would sell for nearly a hundred thousand yen in a Yakuza-run club. "Do you have more?"
"I can lay my hands on twenty cases. How does that sound?"
Nakamura's eyes lit up. "How does five hundred thousand a case sound?"
Shogo considered it. Since it was pure profit, he finally nodded. "Sounds like a winner." He and his friends would split it up and put it into separate bank accounts, and eventually, they'd have enough to retire on for the rest of their lives.
Unlike most criminals, Shogo and the other BR survivors didn't gamble. Nor did they drink to excess, live lavishly, or do anything that might draw attention. Attention from the law was death. Consequently, unlike most criminals, they had managed to save up some very nice sums.
A few days later, the deal was consummated. The whiskey was handed over and payment was made without incident, partly because both sides had armed backup. Shogo accepted payment with a smile and a polite bow. Behind him, Shuya and Kazuhiko lounged, firearms visible but not pointed. The Yakuza also had gunmen ready. Neither side was eager for a firefight, though. The Japanese police were very twitchy about gunplay, and came down hard on violators of the firearms laws.
Privately, the five fugitives thought this was wonderfully ironic. The same government that sternly forbade ordinary citizens to have firearms provided weapons training in all the schools, and, of course, sponsored the Battle Royale Program, in which firearms played a prominent role. But there was nothing they could do about that.
When they got back with the money, the men found Noriko and Sakura looking at a news magazine. "We're back! All went well!" The women welcomed their men home, and soon everybody was relaxing over cups of sake.
"You'd never believe what we found!" Noriko said. She pulled out the news magazine, and opened it to a story about a festival in Sapporo, in Hokkaido. There was a two-page picture of a large crowd welcoming a famous band into town. "Do you see what I see?"
Shogo peered at the picture, and shook his head. But when Kazuhiko and Shuya looked at what she was pointing at, their eyes went wide. "Hirono Shimizu!"
Hirono Shimizu had been the "winner" of the Battle Royale they'd escaped from. They had seen her on television from their hideout in Shiroiwa, being helped along by government soldiers. At that time, she'd looked bedraggled and dazed, with a thousand-yard stare.
Since then, all they had known was that she was up in Sapporo. She'd apparently fallen into alcoholism, as was common among BR Program winners. Alcoholism, drug abuse and mental problems were endemic among winners, if not epidemic. But in this picture, she looked as though she'd managed to turn the corner on her life. She seemed to be clear-eyed and sober, wearing sober clothing very different from the "punk girl" outfits she'd worn when not in school.
"Maybe it's time we took a closer look at her?" ventured Shuya. "It'd be interesting to see how she'd react to the news that we survived too."
"I don't think she'd report it," Noriko said, thoughtfully. "I don't think any Program survivor has any love for the authorities."
"We don't," Shogo grunted. "Trust me on this." The others deferred to his judgement on this point. Before he'd been in the Program with them, he'd survived a previous iteration, albeit at the expense of his girlfriend's life. The others knew that this still tormented him. He'd shown no interest in women, and at night, the others could hear him tossing around in his sleep, calling out his dead girlfriend's name.
"She was with Mitsuko Souma's girl gang, back before the Program," Sakura mused. "That indicates, to my mind, that she wasn't too concerned with rules and laws." She paused, then asked: "I wonder if she'd be interested in joining our little group?"
The others all looked at Sakura in wonder. Before she had said that, the idea of adding to their ranks had never occurred to them. But it did make sense. With more hands, more could get done.
"Let's first look her over and see what we make of her and what she is now," Shuya finally said. "She might not be suitable."
"So, a trip to Sapporo sounds like a good idea. Shall I arrange things?" Noriko asked.
"We don't all need to go," Shogo said. "She doesn't really know me, but she does know you. Maybe I should go and shadow her and see how she's getting along. If I like what I see, we can all go up together. We can arrange time off our jobs."
END Chapter 01