Blur

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  Lea sat back and waited. Kei slumped back quiet, realizing Lea was right.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Williamsburg was quiet at night. There was the usual activity but John could tell it was subdued. He had wanted to go to the address at night to get a feel for the place. The dojo was in a nondescript building.

  If he didn’t have the address Mole had given him, he wouldn’t have found it. He drove around twice, once wide, the other narrow and then parked several blocks away. After parking he did another circuit, of the area on foot just to be certain he hadn’t attracted any attention. So far he and Masami were alone. He knew it wouldn’t last. The car was a serious liability. He took out his phone as he stood a few blocks from the corner of the address Mole gave him.

  “Mole.” said John.

  “Hey John, find the place?” asked Mole.

  “The last thing this place looks like is a dojo.”

  “I would imagine that’s the point, no?”

  “I know what you are thinking and that is the place that fits the description you gave me. Only way to know for sure would be to, oh I don’t know, go in?” said Mole.

  “Fair enough,” said John.

  “Do you need anything else? Some of us like to sleep.”

  “Yes, call Iris. Have her track the vehicle, perform a sweep and I need a replacement, something a little more common with the same load out. Make it American.” said John.

  “American are you sure?” said Mole.

  “Absolutely and forgettable.” said John.

  “Something like a minivan?” Mole laughed.

  “If Iris shows up with a minivan –”

  “I know, I know, I’ll see what I can do.” said Mole.

  “Let me know if the sweep turns up anything. If it isn’t on the car then I have to consider other options.”

  “You can start with the laptop.” said Mole.

  “The thought has crossed my mind but it may be put to good use if it is the laptop.”

  “Your call. I’ll let you know when Iris arrives.”

  “Thanks,” said John and hung up.

  John turned to Masami who had been standing next to him.

  “Now we wait.” said John.

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  “Shit.” whispered Kei.

  She had been played like a rank amateur.

  “Shit indeed.” said Lea. “You need to finish your training. I won’t lie to you. You have a lot of ability.”

  “But?” said Kei.

  “But it’s like you’re half done.” said Lea after a moment. She looked at Kei gauging her reaction. Kei turned away, the pain making her wince. Lea placed a bowl of hot broth and a cup of pungent tea on the table beside Kei’s bed.

  “Ugh what is that?” said Kei. The smell made her nauseous.

  “Both of these will help you heal and restore your strength.” said Lea.

  “I have to really drink that?” said Kei.

  “Yes now. Drink up.” said Lea.

  She waited patiently for Kei to begin. Kei began with the broth. When Lea was satisfied she had drunk enough of both she reached into the bag she carrying.

  “Feel better?” said Lea.

  “No I don’t, this soup tastes like someone’s idea of a prank.” said Kei.

  Lea laughed.

  “That’s about how I remember it too.” said Lea.

  “In any case, you’re in no condition to go anywhere today. You need to heal. Why don’t you do something productive while you’re getting back on your feet?” said Lea.

  Lea placed a book on the bed beside Kei.

  “What’s this?” said Kei.

  It was a worn journal, the pages yellowed with age.

  “That is a family journal. It should help you. Read it, learn it. It doesn’t usually get read by someone outside of the family. Sensei must think you have real potential if he is letting you see it.” said Lea.

  Kei shifted in the bed through clenched teeth as the pain radiated in her body.

  Lea noticed the grimace and smiled.

  “Don’t worry you should feel better by tomorrow morning. That broth tastes horrible but works miracles.” said Lea.

  “Please tell Sensei I said thank you.” said Kei after she adjusted enough to be comfortable.

  Lea stood to leave and bowed. “I will.”

  Kei turned to the first page of the journal and read:

  After many days of sitting and meditation we were able to direct our energies in truly unimaginable ways. These abilities border on the impossible, but I am assured by our Sensei that they are perfectly within the realm of this world, though many fail to achieve the state required to draw or manifest this energy. This does not mean that it does not exist.

  Sensei also alluded to certain family traits that may make entering this state easier. When I asked him if it was only our family, he answered as only he could, saying the Fujita line was not particularly special, just very determined.

  The inception of the skills is open to all who pursue them wholeheartedly. Their mastery is quite another matter. Train hard and persevere - those are the keys.

  Kei closed the journal and placed it next to her on the bed. She was still sore and it hurt to move. She was conflicted. Part of her wanted to run, like she did so many years ago. She knew her Sensei must have had a reason for having her come here, maybe this was it. Besides she couldn’t leave until told to. Begrudgingly she had to admit that Lea was right. She needed to finish her training. She thought back to the fight between her and Lea and grimaced. Lea had handled her so easily. She could feel the anger rising.

  Is this why her Sensei had sent her here? So she could finish her training?

  Calm down, she thought and took a deep breath. She finished the broth and the tea and settled back in bed, placing the journal on the side table. She was suddenly exhausted and her eyes felt heavy.

  She would finish her training, do whatever it took.

  Then she would kick Lea’s ass all over the dojo floor. With that thought, she fell asleep.

  Chapter Thirty

  The sun blazed across the sky, casting an orange fire over the city. Dawn was John’s favorite part of the day. For him it was rebirth. The day held possibility. It was unformed, a blank slate waiting to be written upon, created.

  “If this is a traditional dojo,” John mused, “there will be some kind of morning class.”

  “We just have to wait for the students to arrive.” said Masami.

  As the sun cast its light over the horizon, Masami stood silently beside him. They didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later, several people entered the building, each carrying some sort of bag or backpack. Masami placed a hand on John’s arm.

  “We must tread carefully here Kane -san, those are not ordinary students.” John agreed, he didn’t know how Masami came to her conclusion, but years of being around highly trained individuals let him know these were not ordinary students. He read the posture, the walk, the intent. Each of the six people that entered, men and women, were well trained. He didn’t want them to think they were dojo storming.

  Let’s go make a good impression he thought as He made his way across the street, Masami a silent shadow behind him.

  John entered the building followed by Masami. The dojo was located on the second floor. John could already hear the familiar sounds, uniforms snapping, feet gliding across the hardwood floors. The smell really brought it home for him. It was the scent peculiar to certain schools. The smell of incense, wood and the hint of sweat never truly dissipate in this kind of school. There were no signs and no exterior indicators that this was a dojo. It seemed like the idea was to dissuade people from joining.

  John noticed there was no seating in the reception area. The area was dominated by a large desk, currently unoccupied.

  “Must not be many visitors at this hour.” said John more to himself than Masami.

  “Or any hour it seems.” said Masami.

  Behind the desk
, John could hear the activity on the dojo floor. His view was obscured by a large wooden screen. There was no way to see what occurred on the floor without actually going around the screen and onto the floor. John removed his shoes and peered in; long enough to attract attention, but not enough to be rude.

  A young woman in a white uniform entered the reception area. Everything about her said practicality. Her hair was in a tight bun, she wore no make-up. John could see no hint of jewelry. Her uniform was worn from use yet he could tell she starched it. Her movements like the rest of her were economical and efficient. She was about Masami’s height and seemed unassuming. She wore a white belt around her waist but John got the impression she was no beginner.

  “Good morning,” said John as he bowed. “My name is John and this is Masami.”

  “Good morning, how can I help you?”

  “Would it be possible to speak to the Sensei?” asked John.

  “May I ask what this pertains to?” she said guardedly.

  “It’s a private matter.” John knew he would be testing his welcome but he wanted to see how many layers there were to the school. The young woman stood silent a moment, looking at the pair before her as if determining to eject them herself.

  “Please wait here.” she said and re-entered the dojo.

  A few moments later, another woman appeared.

  “Hello, my name is Lea. I have been informed that you wish to see the Sensei on a private matter?”

  “Yes, is he in?” John knew the answer, but asked anyway.

  “No, he is not but maybe you can discuss the matter with me. I am his daughter.”

  John wasn’t expecting that.

  “My apologies, I don’t mean to be rude, but I must discuss this matter only with him.” said John.

  “I see. Well in that case, you will need to return later today around 1pm. What did you say tour name was again?” said Lea.

  “My name is John Kane and this is my assistant Masami.”

  “Very well, I will let the Sensei know to expect you at 1pm sharp.” She emphasized the last word.

  “Thank you. I look forward to meeting him.”

  John bowed and headed for the exit.

  “Before you go, who referred you to us? said Lea.”

  John turned and looked at Lea.

  “No one.” said John as he left.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  She followed the asset for several blocks. Her abilities made it easy. Whenever the asset turned to see if he was being followed or shadowed she would simply not be there. It was almost too easy. Then she checked herself. Don’t get complacent and never underestimate your opponent no matter how weak they appear. The words rushed back to her, words uttered by her long dead teacher. This was the only way to make them pay. The only way they would feel loss like she did. It was a gaping hole in her center that could never be filled. Each asset had given her a piece of the puzzle, the greater whole coming into focus.

  She would fulfill her duty and then she could rest. The asset entered a building on Madison Avenue. She checked the address, 760 Madison Avenue. It didn’t make sense but then assets usually dealt with covers and shell companies. She entered the building, careful to keep her head down to avoid the cameras. The entire city was being overrun with surveillance. It was just that most people were unaware or apathetic. She didn’t know which was worse. She saw the elevator stopped on the tenth floor. She checked the directory and found the tenant to be the Cobalt Design Group.

  Unfamiliar but she made a mental note to look it up later. She pressed the call button and waited. The building was at least eighty years old with a nod to the art deco design that was popular during its construction.

  A minute later, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. She stepped in and pressed ten. She really disliked being in elevators. Moving caskets, that’s what they were called when she was younger. Always take the stairs, on a flight of stairs you have options. In an elevator all you can do is react and usually die. The ever present voice of her teacher reminded her.

  The elevator being much newer than the building arrived at the tenth floor without incident. As she got off, she realized Cobalt Design occupied the entire floor. She knocked on the door and found it unlocked. Every fiber of her being urged her to turn and walk away but she knew it wasn’t an option. If this was a trap and she was fairly certain it was, there was only one way she would exit this building.

  She had to spring the trap.

  She pushed open the door slowly half expecting gunfire to erupt.

  “Come in please.” The voice, a deep baritone, emanated from somewhere nearby. The floor of the office space was mostly empty.

  “Looks like Cobalt Design has hit a rough patch.” she said.

  “We keep various locations throughout the city. It suits our purposes from time to time.” the voice said.

  “We?” she said.

  She could sense others in the space with her.

  ‘Yes, we-I am afraid your search comes to an end here. Kill her.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Mikaela had tracked John to some nondescript neighborhood in Brooklyn when she got the call. She looked at her phone, cursed and for a second considered letting it go to voicemail, then thought better of it. David only called if it was important.

  “Yes David,” she said as she picked up.

  “I need you to pay me a visit.” said David.

  Even though it sounded like a request, Mikaela knew better. She also knew better than to argue.

  “When?” she asked, hoping to buy some time. She wanted to pin down John before he found the tracking device in the laptop.

  “Now,” he said in a soft spoken voice.

  “I can’t do now.” Or the next few days she thought to herself.

  “It can’t be helped. It was either this or pull you from the field. You don’t have many friends in CATT Mika. There are a few of the opinion that you should be retired, permanently.” said David.

  This didn’t surprise or even annoy her. She knew many felt this way about her, more importantly she knew who they were. She also knew David supported her completely, which was part of the reason she was untouchable. The other part was that she lived up to and exceeded her reputation. Mikaela was not the kind of enemy you wanted to fight, on any battlefield.

  “Fine, David. Where would you like to meet?” she said exasperated.

  He hated leaving the compound so she thought this would buy her a few hours at least.

  “I’ll be at this location in forty minutes; I’m sending the address to your phone. I’ll meet you there.” said David.

  Mikaela was too surprised to answer. David never made what he liked to call ‘house calls’.

  “Oh and I’m bringing your new partner. Her name is Helen. Helen Martine.”

  He hung up before Mikaela could answer. The shock had rendered her speechless.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  It wasn’t the first time she had been underestimated. She didn’t know if it was because she was a woman or of slight build. The office space of Cobalt Design was sparsely furnished and now she knew why. This was a place where people disappeared.

  “Kill her and make sure there is no trace of her being here,” the voice said.

  At least she knew she was on the right track. She just had to get out of this alive.

  She sensed there were ten others, probably armed. When they stepped out of the shadows, she cursed to herself.

  Shit. Shadow Blades. This was going to be messy. She took a breath to center herself. Divide and destroy when outnumbered. Each strike must count. Her master’s lesson came back to her. She slid to the nearest wall to prevent getting surrounded, knowing that would be fatal.

  A Shadow Blade advanced - his short sword down. She focused on the immediate threat but kept her awareness large in case they charged. It seemed this was the leader of this group. Men and their egos, they always had something to prove. It would have been smarter to attack en m
asse but since there was only one of her, what threat could she pose?

  She could almost see the thought process. They would attack as a group after this. She remained still and let him advance. Her stillness was considered unnatural. She could remain motionless almost indefinitely. Its effect caused her opponents to attack, giving her the opening she needed. She waited for the Shadow Blade to strike. He drew closer. She could sense the incoming lunge but she didn’t move. He took a gliding step forward and thrust this blade at her midsection.

  At the last possible moment, she twisted her torso. The blade caught in the fabric of her shirt, which was the intention. She kept the rotation going, snagging the blade and drawing him in. As she turned, she brought her hand down in a shuto-knife edge strike, using the edge of her hand on his wrist. She instantly shattered all the bones in his wrist. Shock and surprise registered on his face. She let it sit for a moment as he let go of his blade, his hand no longer functional. She grabbed the short sword and he knew what was next. She saw the acceptance, the certainty in his eyes. As she pulled it from her tangled shirt, she sliced across his neck in one smooth motion. He fell to the ground, his life pouring out of him. Five seconds had passed.

  The other Shadow Blades recovered quickly, but it was too late. She was in motion. She blurred behind the nearest one and stabbed him through the heart. Turning him to receive the blow that came from her right, she kicked that Shadow Blade in the knee, destroying it. As he fell to the ground, she grabbed his neck and broke it.

  Seven more, ten seconds had passed.

  She ducked under the slice of one sword, punching as she did so. Her fist broke through his rib cage and crushed his heart. He crumpled to the ground. The next two attacked together, she slid away from one thrust and twisted away from the other as she launched two daggers burying them in the necks of both. They fell, surprise in their eyes.

  Four to go, twenty seconds passed.

  She walked to the center of the floor and let them surround her now. The attack came as she anticipated and she let it. Four swords thrust at her and bounced off her body. She back fisted the Shadow Blade in front of her crushing his skull and killing him instantly. She grabbed the throat of the one on her left and ripped his larynx from his neck. The one on her right was about to step back when she drove her fingertips into his neck slicing through his jugular.