Blur

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  It was indicative of her position that Mikaela had unrestricted access to the Director of CATT. She never needed an appointment or a call. She simply went to his office on the lowest level in the facility, which descended ten stories underground.

  Despite being nearly one hundred feet underground, the lowest level gave the impression of space. The director’s level was a U-shaped affair, with glass panels separating it from a garden in the center. The garden itself was an area which always pleasantly surprised her. A small pond contained exotic fish. A small foot bridge allowed access to a Zen rock garden in the center. Running water could be heard but Mikaela never found its source.

  What appeared to be glass was actually two inch thick lexan, rated to stop most small projectiles. The lexan itself was electronically charged, so that by running a current through it, it became opaque, enshrouding the garden in a simulated fog. The director’s main area was situated in the center of the U.

  It was rumored David never left the facility. The level was spacious enough for living quarters, and Mikaela had never seen the Director outside of this level, much less the facility. As she crossed the garden, she took note of the cleverly hidden counter measures strategically placed around the space. Infrared sensors camouflaged as flowers. Floor panel triggers disguised to look like flat stones and an assortment of others. She smiled to herself as she realized that those were the ones she could see. She could only imagine the ones that were hidden even to her. The garden, which looked tranquil and beautiful, was a deathtrap to the uninitiated. One wrong step could literally be your last. The garden always made you tread carefully.

  Very much like Mikaela herself.

  “Mika, I’m in the observatory, please visit.” a voice floated down to her.

  Only one person could call her that and walk away unscathed.

  Mikaela made her way through the office space until she came to the left side of the U. On the far wall were thirty monitors each displaying different areas of the facility on a rotating loop.

  Opposite that wall was one monitor which encompassed the entire wall. Seated before the large monitor was a man in his mid-fifties, his black hair cut short was starting to show some grey at the temples. He dressed casually in black slacks and a crisp white shirt. The shirt offset the blue-green in his eyes. Taller than average, she could tell he was still training. He looked like he would be more at home in the mountains somewhere than an office. Mikaela took a long appraising look at him, and then sat in one of the chairs, situated to face the large monitor wall.

  “Hello David.” she said.

  “It’s nice of you to visit, Mika. I hear you came up dry on that computer you appropriated.” said David.

  It was uncanny how quickly he knew things; she figured he couldn’t run a group like CATT without that expertise though.

  “I’m trying another angle. I think it will pan out.” said Mikaela.

  David looked at her a moment and then tapped a few keys on his modified wrist keyboard. An image appeared on the large monitor.

  “Do you know who this is?” David said, as he turned to face the image.

  “No, should I?” asked Mikaela.

  “Mikaela, this man is going to make your life very complicated.” said David.

  Mikaela hated complicated. She sighed. “Who is he and why do I care?”

  David handed her a thick folder.

  “We have a situation with one of our assets and he was on site.” said David.

  Situation was David’s code for clusterfuck, so Mikaela knew this was serious.

  “Which asset?” said Mikaela.

  “Takashi ‘Jiro’ Fujita is presumed missing or dead- he missed his last call in and he has never missed a call in, ever. I think this man was involved in some way.” said David.

  “How do we know he was on site?” said Mikaela.

  “Surveillance picked him up on the property near the time in question. Is it possible he knew about the asset?” said David as he turned to her .

  “Not possible. Fujita was in a secure location known to us only, aside from that he may have been old, but he was highly skilled. In addition, Masami Murakami is his assistant/nurse and she is nothing to sneeze at. Even I would think twice before tangling with her.” she said.

  “And yet despite all of that, this person was seen entering a level one secure location and more importantly, not exiting. You need to find him. I want to have a conversation with him.”

  “I’m guessing that means alive.” she said.

  “Well, since I haven’t learned to commune with the dead, I would prefer breathing, yes.” said David.

  “Is he going to survive the conversation?” asked Mikaela.

  “That depends on what he has to say.” said David.

  Mikaela turned to view the image that was on the screen looking at her.

  It was an image of John Kane.

  Chapter Ten

  She knew they would be after her. She counted on it in fact. Her sensei had prepared her for the eventuality, taught her how to blend and be invisible. So far she had been able to remain undetected. She knew it couldn’t last, sooner or later, they would discover who she was. Part of her knew this was a suicide mission. She was prepared for that too.

  Killing assets was dangerous task, despite her training; she ran a real risk every time she eliminated one. It was always possible they were better trained or that the asset in question was part of a trap to eliminate her. She had been careful, covering her tracks, changing identities often, staying off the grid as much as possible. They tricky part was avoiding the cameras. They were everywhere. She was grateful she didn’t live in London. The CCTV net would have discovered her in short order. Being in New York City was no cake walk. Cameras were everywhere but she took measures to avoid them as best she could.

  Today she was training in one of the older martial arts schools in Brooklyn. It was almost impossible to find without her sensei’s help since it was a non-descript warehouse housing the school. The Sensei who ran the school was a throwback to a different era that believed progress was measured in sweat, tears and blood. It was the training she was used to. It was the type of training that had forged her character and spirit, making her the weapon she was today.

  They were sparring today. The Sensei, recognizing her level of skill, allowed her to train with the seniors. She made a conscious effort to fight without any hidden ability, at first this was difficult, she was used to being her abilities that disconnecting from them made it almost impossible. With practice, she became better at it. Today as she stood facing a tall senior, who rippled with muscle under his uniform, she realized that her ability gave her an unfair advantage and made a mental note to fight fair, mostly. She had to remember not to attract too much attention to herself.

  She looked around and noticed she was the only female on the line. She wasn’t the only female in the school but she was the only one on the floor the Sensei allowed to fight the men. The senior she stood in front of didn’t know her. He took one look at her diminutive size and made an assessment. She had seen it happen hundreds of times before.

  Her Sensei’s words came back to her. When an opponent sees you and dismisses you because of your appearance. Use it. Feign weakness but respond with strength. That is exactly what her opponent had done. One of the reasons she trained here was that the Sensei didn’t believe in any type of fighting gear. Punches to the head were encouraged as well as groundwork and grappling. In essence, among the seniors, almost anything was allowed. She liked that, a lot.

  I hope Sensei lets me stay here longer than the last school.

  The Sensei signaled them to begin and the four pairs faced each other, bowed and began to circle.

  He towered over her. She barely cleared five feet and he was easily over six. In a moment, she saw several openings and decided she would wait until he made a move. He opened with a front snap kick. She side stepped it, noticing the power and realizing he intended to hit her, good. At least he
wasn’t one of those who saw her and toned it down because she was female and small.

  She began to circle around, aware of the distance she needed to execute her techniques. He circled with her. He closed the distance in an instant, unleashing several punches at her head. She evaded most of them, he was slow. She let the last one glance off her right cheek. It had the desired effect.

  He was arrogant and it surfaced. She smiled, this fight was over. He just didn’t know it yet. He jabbed twice with the left, setting her up for the right cross she knew was coming. As his right hand came at her, she slipped to her outside left. For a second the surprise registered on his face. For her, a second was a lifetime. She dipped slightly and drove a right elbow into his solar plexus.

  The body is an amazing machine. With sufficient impact to the nerve cluster that makes up the solar plexus, the body has a cascading reaction. Chief among them is the expulsion of air, followed closely by a loss of strength to the legs.

  As he forcefully exhaled, she reached up and grabbed his right arm. Bending it at the elbow towards his ear, she unleashed a joint kick at the back of his right knee. This was only sparring, so she didn’t shatter it. The kick allowed her to use leverage. As he fell backwards, she straightened his arm, locking it at the elbow and took it just shy of dislocating the shoulder. He was face down on the floor and gasping for breath. It had happened so fast, he was still reeling from the elbow strike. He quickly tapped the floor as she started to pull the arm towards herself threatening dislocation.

  She stepped back and let him stand up. The Sensei signaled all to stop. One of the other seniors walked over to her opponent and asked if he could continue. He nodded; she felt his anger coming off in waves. The senior was red faced from embarrassment and anger as he stood to face her again.

  He would be dangerous now that his ego was bruised. It was a matter of saving face now. She wondered why she did this, but she knew: It was the closest thing to death she could get, that and this is where she thrived. She needed the edge.

  He was angry but now he would be reckless. They stood facing each other again and bowed. The Sensei signaled for them to begin. It was just them on the floor now. She allowed her awareness to expand and took in the dojo. Always keep your zanshin in place. She could hear her sensei’s voice in her head. Everything was connected. She took it all in, the other students, the space itself. She observed it all and then let it go. In an instant, it was only her and her opponent. This was right, this was pure. She took a deep breath, silently thanked her sensei for placing her on this path and met the oncoming attack.

  Chapter Eleven

  The tunnel was dimly lit as Masami made her way down the stairs.

  “Where does this tunnel head?” asked John.

  “This tunnel leads to a garage where we will have access to a vehicle.” said Masami.

  “Sounds like a great idea. Put some distance between us and them.” said John.

  Masami didn’t answer.

  Then it hit John, slowly at first, a nagging thought, then stronger.

  “Masami, wait a second, if they knew about this place, the building I mean, wouldn’t they know about the garage?”

  “It is unlikely but not impossible. We need to be careful.” she said slowly.

  They had reached the end of the tunnel. John figured they were about two blocks from the property. Before he opened the door, Masami touched his arm. John turned to face her.

  “Back there, why didn’t you use your ability? Fujita Sensei told me you are skilled.” said Masami.

  “I made a promise long ago, that I would never use it again.” said John.

  Masami remained silent for a moment.

  “It is my belief that you will not be able to honor this promise for very much longer.” she said.

  John was thinking the same thing as he opened the door. The door opened to a large converted storage space that housed about five vehicles of different makes and models. All of them were luxury vehicles. John had that tickling feeling again. It was an instinct he had learned to listen to early on in his life.

  “Masami, this is too easy. I don’t like it.” he said as he looked at the vehicles.

  “What do you mean too easy? I told you it was unlikely that anyone-” said Masami.

  John felt the explosion before actually hearing it. The wave of compressed air buffeted him and triggered his response as reflex. As it always happened when he blurred, time crawled to a standstill. Grabbing Masami, he pushed her back into the corridor pulling the door behind him, when the whump of pressure hit. He was certain ribs and possibly more was broken.

  They fell into the corridor as a wave of fire rolled towards them. Masami, who had been shielded from the pressure wave by John’s body, had the presence of mind to close the door as one of the vehicles or what remained of it slammed into it. John crumpled to the floor, his breath ragged.

  “Good thing it was unlikely.” Those were the last words he said before passing out.

  Back at the property the man called Kage looked into the night and noticed the explosion. It would be hard to miss given the magnitude of it.

  “It seems Fujita Sensei was not alone. Go and see if anyone survived that.” He pointed at the explosion. “If they did, which I doubt, make sure they aren’t breathing by the time you leave the area. Go now.” Two men took off on motorcycles rushing to the site of the explosion.

  What were you doing, old man? Kage thought as he entered his vehicle.

  “Follow them, but avoid the police. We don’t need this getting any more attention than it already has.” said Kage to his driver.

  The driver sped off in the direction of the explosion.

  Chapter Twelve

  How do you find someone who doesn’t want to be found? You go to his last known location and start looking there. Mikaela was driving to the Queens property when she noticed the fire trucks and ambulances racing past her.

  “Follow them, Gustav.” she said.

  He knew her long enough to go with her instincts. He switched lanes and kept pace with the emergency vehicles. Something told her this was right. She had achieved everything she had because she learned to listen to her intuition. Right now that intuition was telling her that this was relevant.

  “Gus, approach it from the other side. Let’s keep it low profile.” Gustav nodded.

  Mikaela looked at the folder Robert had prepared for her. It was thin with too little information. The list with known whereabouts was five names long. She rubbed the bridge of her nose to stave off the impending headache. She dialed Robert.

  “This list you gave me is thin.” Her words were clipped short.

  “That is the short list.” Robert or better yet David wouldn’t keep relevant information from her, would he?

  “Well the first three I know couldn’t pull this off, at least not when they ran with me. I doubt they have improved that much.” said Mikaela.

  “And the last two?” said Robert.

  “One is on loan to Interpol. He may have the skill but not the motivation,” said Mikaela.

  “That leaves Cheung.” Robert paused. “It says here deceased. You think the dead guy did this?” asked Robert.

  Mikaela gave it some thought. When you eliminate every possibility, what remained was truth.

  “We’re here,” said Gustav beside her. She snapped out of reverie.

  “Yes Robert, track down the dead guy. I want to know when he died and how. I want to see a grave. I want a body. Something smells here.” said Mikaela.

  “This is going to take a while, Ms. Petrovich.”

  “Robert –“her voice made her message clear.

  “Got it, top shelf it. I will call you with the info.” said Robert.

  “Thank you,” she said and hung up.

  She opened the door as Gustav parked and headed to the explosion.

  “Let’s see what we can see,” she said to herself.

  Chapter Thirteen

  John ached all over. Som
ewhere far away someone was calling him. It had been years since he had blurred and his body was reminding him. That voice, somehow it sounded familiar. His thoughts were a jumbled mess.

  “John!”

  There it was again, someone calling him; somehow he felt he should recognize the voice. Part of his brain was yelling at him to get up and move, the other part was all in favor of a nice nap. It was the excruciating pain that brought him back and stole his breath as he gasped seeing stars.

  “What the –” then it all rushed back. “Masami, you OK?”

  “Yes, thanks to you. Now let me help you. I had to press on this to bring you back. It looked as if you were going to remain unconscious and I cannot carry you.” she said.

  She began to manipulate the bones in his right forearm. John clenched his teeth against the pain.

  “Is that really necessary? I’m conscious now.” John said through the haze of pain.

  “It is if you want to use your arm in the near future.” said Masami.

  She placed both hands on his arm, for a second John almost pulled away reflexively. Her hands were hot, no not hot, burning. He looked down, half expecting to see burning flesh. Masami’s hands were a dull red, the way your hand looked when you shone a flashlight through it. The internal glow stopped at her wrist. She removed her hands and lifted John’s right arm. It felt like someone had shoved a hot poker into his sides.

  “Ribs are broken, this is going to hurt.” said Masami.

  “You mean hurt more, right?” John said through clenched teeth.

  She nodded and placed a hand on his ribs, knitting bone and tissue. John nearly screamed in agony. He bit his lip until he tasted blood, willing himself not to cry out. Masami focused on his side a little longer then removed her hand.

  “I apologize for doing this so abruptly but I don’t think time is a luxury we have.” she said.

  John nodded, his voice gone for a moment.

  “We must go back to the house. They will not expect that, also it is our only means of exit since this way is blocked.”