Warrior Spirit

by Alex Archer

  When he’d met her, she’d been a homeless girl of sixteen, living under the bridges by Tokyo Bay. While others like her had readily sold their bodies for money, Shuko had maintained her dignity by refusing to do so. Instead, she scrounged for old computer parts and had taught herself how to make them work again. She was eking out the barest of existences when Nezuma came down looking for other young guns he could recruit.

  His monthly forays always granted him unlimited access to the desperate and depraved. Nezuma set up pit matches between the liveliest fighters and watched as the skinny, ravenous youths tore each other apart for the promise of money, food and a job.

  But on this foray, Nezuma found himself surprised in more ways than one. Just prior to the match, he’d seen a scuffle in the cardboard community that bordered the fight ring. The unmistakable sound of a slap on skin set his heart thumping.

  The sudden barrage of kicks and punches and the body of a young man flying through the air and landing at his feet further shocked him.

  In the dim light he saw Shuko bending back to work on her computers on a decrepit particleboard desk. He cleared his throat to make himself known. “What’s your name?”

  Nezuma had expected a deeper male voice to answer him, but he heard only a soft one honed to an edge by the poor economic conditions that had forged a raw spirit. “I am Shuko.”

  “The Claw?” Nezuma had stifled a laugh. “That’s quite unique. Do you like cats or something?”

  Shuko had turned to look at him. He could see the beauty in her eyes, hidden under the smudges of dust and soot. But there was something else in her eyes that moved Nezuma—honor.

  “Cats have nothing to do with my name.”

  Nezuma nodded and took another stab at getting her to open up. “What did he want?”

  Shuko shrugged. “What they all want—my body.”

  “Did he offer you money?”

  She sniffed. “The little he had, yes. But I don’t want their money for that. I am not a whore.”

  Nezuma nodded. “And do you know who I am?”

  “You are the man who sets up fights and recruits the winners to work for him. I am told most of those you hire end up dead within a few months. This is because they are fools who are unused to the risks they so desperately seek.”

  Nezuma leaned against one of the bridge girders. “That is true. I have, so far, found no one who can handle the work I set before them. It is tough finding good help.”

  “The people you hire are morons,” Shuko said.

  Nezuma laughed. “Are you always so blunt in your opinion of others?”

  “Only if it is deserved.” She glanced at him again. “I am not opposed to giving respect to those who merit it.”

  Nezuma looked around. “Down here, I’m sure you don’t find that very often, do you?”

  “I don’t find it at all.” She flipped a switch and a cathode-ray screen came to life. Nezuma wondered where she was drawing power from and figured she must have rigged something to steal the juice from the grid. “Where did you learn to fight?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Here. There. Wherever. Usually when someone would try to take something of mine, I was forced to defend it and myself.”

  “It doesn’t bother you—hurting someone with your skills?”

  Her shoulders jumped as if she was chuckling. “Why should it bother me? It is one more tool I have at my disposal. My opponents never think much of me because I am a girl. That is their downfall.”

  “Will you fight for me tonight in the ring?”

  She looked at him again. “On one condition.”

  “Name it.”

  “If I win, you take me away from this. If I prove myself capable, you teach me everything you know. I don’t want to ever come back here. I want this place wiped from my memory as if it was nothing but a bad dream.”

  Nezuma knew then that she would beat anyone he matched against her. “You have my solemn promise, Shuko-san.”

  She stood. Nezuma could see the holes in her pants, the threadbare shirt she wore and the shoes with no soles. Shuko had turned to him at that point and bowed.

  “Master.”

  Nezuma had bowed back, aware that he felt something that night for the first time—a certain respect. For Nezuma, it was the first time he’d ever felt this way toward a woman.

  Shuko beat five men that night, damaging each one more than the previous fighter. She had used guile, cunning and deception along with a raw talent for decisive street fighting Nezuma had not seen in many years. She broke bones, ripped skin and gouged eyes. She sent two of the men stumbling out of the ring clutching at their testicles, which she had pummeled with a devastating series of upper cuts.

  In the wake of the pit fight, Nezuma had driven them to Ginza to an exclusive health spa where he instructed the staff that Shuko should be bathed, manicured and pedicured, and given the haircut of her dreams.

  While she was shedding the layers of dirt that had clung to her since her youth, Nezuma went shopping. He bought her an assortment of stylish clothes that enhanced what he believed would be her true beauty.

  And when she emerged from the back room of the spa dressed and made up, Nezuma had barely managed to catch his breath. Shuko, for all her lethality and rawness, was utterly stunning.

  She had bowed again, but when she came up, there were tears of happiness in her eyes. It was the only time Nezuma would ever see her cry.

  “Thank you,” was all she could choke out before she clamped the emotion down and seemed to rid herself of her past.

  Nezuma took her to dinner, where they ate and discussed everything from books and music to world affairs. Shuko was remarkably well-educated despite her background. Nezuma would add to that education over time.

  After dinner, where Nezuma watched the longing display itself on every man who caught sight of Shuko, they drove back to the large warehouse Nezuma owned on the outskirts of Tokyo. Nezuma showed Shuko where she could sleep.

  Over time, the bond between them became unbreakable as Nezuma schooled her in martial arts, and every aspect of killing he could think of. When he had no more to teach, they went abroad, studying with arcane experts and borderline psychopaths as they absorbed every skill that would add to their ability to bring Nezuma’s plan to fruition.

  Then they returned to Japan, ready to unleash it.

  He watched her reading and smiled. Shuko meant the world to him.

  But so, too, did the dorje Annja Creed and Kennichi Ogawa were trying to find.

  12

  “Are you feeling okay?”

  Annja nodded, but she felt anything but all right. Not after having dealt with the masked invaders in her room last night. She had awoken this morning overwhelmed by the feeling that she had somehow betrayed Ken. But there had been something so completely overpowering about the shadowy people, she had felt she had no choice but to accept their demands.

  The question she asked of herself was would she really give the masked invaders the vajra?

  She frowned. No. And the next time she faced them, it would be on her own terms. She took a moment to close her eyes and make sure the sword was still where she could reach it if need be.

  It was.

  When she opened her eyes, Ken was staring at her. She found his gaze piercing and unsettling at the same time. It was as if one moment he could use his eyes to seduce, and the next to hurt.

  She tried to return his stare with the same level of intensity. “What?”

  He blinked and looked away. “Well, that was certainly interesting.”

  “What was?”

  Ken shrugged. “You obviously just went someplace else while you were sitting here. It was like one moment you were in your seat and the next you were a million miles away.”

  Annja tried to brush it off. “Obviously, I’m not if I’m sitting here with you.”

  “Physically. But there’s more to life than just the physical.” He grinned. “I mean, not that the physical isn’t im
portant, but—”

  “I got it.” Annja smiled. “I know what you mean.”

  Ken sighed. “You want to tell me what’s bothering you so much? You’ve been distracted all day long.”

  Annja watched the landscape pass by outside their windows. The train must have been traveling in excess of a hundred miles per hour. According to their tickets, they’d be arriving in Osaka around one o’clock in the afternoon. The train rocketed along, and Annja barely felt a bump as it rode the tracks. She tried to recall the last time she’d felt excited about riding a train. Certainly, the United States had nothing near as advanced as the bullet trains.

  She looked back at Ken hoping he’d given up on his line of questioning. But one glance at the expectant demeanor of his eyes told her he hadn’t.

  She sighed. “What’s a dorje?”

  Ken shrugged. “It is another word for vajra. Why? Where did you hear that? Were you researching something on your computer?”

  “I met someone who mentioned it.” Annja felt her stomach twinge as she thought about it.

  “Who’s this someone?” Ken smiled. “Anyone I know?”

  Annja shook her head. “I don’t know if you know him. But he seemed to know all about you.”

  “Really.” Ken’s tone was level, but she knew he expected more information.

  Annja turned herself around in the chair to face him. “I was asleep in my room last night. Someone broke in. Well, that’s maybe the wrong word. They didn’t break in so much as one moment they weren’t there—the next they were. It was really weird.”

  “Go on.”

  “I don’t think it was the first time, either. The other night I was in the tub and I could have sworn someone had come in while I was there.”

  Ken nodded. “Okay.”

  “But last night, I tried to fight them off. I thought there was only one, but there were two. And when I made my move, I got sucker punched basically. Before I knew what had happened, I was pinned down and totally at their mercy.”

  “You could have been badly injured or killed.” Ken shook his head. “I’m glad you’re all right.”

  Annja smiled. She appreciated the fact that Ken hadn’t told her she shouldn’t do things like jumping attackers. She also appreciated his concern, which seemed legitimate and sincere enough.

  “While one of the goons held me down with some sort of armlock, the other one searched my room.”

  “What were they looking for?”

  Annja’s shoulders felt tight. “Your vajra, apparently.”

  “And that’s where you heard the word dorje?”

  She nodded. “The one holding me down demanded I give it to him.”

  “But you don’t have it.” Ken laughed. “Hell, I don’t have it.”

  Annja glanced around the car. They’d told her they would be watching. What if they were sitting close by right now? She looked back at Ken. “I explained this to them. They seemed convinced that I already had it in my possession.”

  “What would make them think that?”

  “Faulty intelligence. Maybe someone leaked word to them. I don’t know.”

  Ken frowned and turned around. Annja gave him the moment. She felt there might be a few things he was keeping from her. Whether or not that was for her own good, Annja felt certain they would come out soon enough. Whether Ken wanted them to or not.

  “It’s possible,” he said after another moment. “I’d be a fool to think otherwise. But like we discussed last night, there are bound to be other interested parties in the hunt. They all know the rumors of what the vajra can supposedly do.”

  “They’re just rumors, though, right? I mean, no one really believes that it’s magic, do they?”

  Ken smiled. “Given the state of our world, rumors are enough. The way things are these days, all it takes is a piece of gossip or innuendo for people to derive hope and happiness and then use that to buttress their own insecure existence.”

  “I suppose.” Annja didn’t think the two people in her room had seemed all that insecure.

  “And if they felt strongly enough about it, it wouldn’t be too surprising that they might even undertake the hunt themselves to see if the legends were true or not.”

  Annja held up her hand. “But they wouldn’t have access to the material I’m assuming you have access to. How would they hope to find it?”

  “Blind luck? Who knows?” Ken stretched his legs. “Sometimes, that’s all it takes. And blind luck mixed with hope can still be a powerful combination.”

  “I don’t like the idea that others are out there looking for this, or spying on us, or any number of other things that might make this trip perilous.” She sighed. “These did not seem like very nice people.”

  Ken smiled. “You’re not worried about danger, Annja. You relish it. It’s one reason I hired you.”

  “You’ve hired me?” She grinned. “I don’t recall ever seeing a contract or even hearing a verbal agreement.”

  Ken shrugged. “So, I’m doing it now. You help me find this vajra and you can name your price. Okay? I have plenty of money and I’m sure I can offer you a fee that will more than compensate you for your time and efforts. Not to mention any of the risks involved.”

  “They ordered me to tell them when we find it.” Annja watched his face for a reaction.

  Ken’s forehead creased. “The people who broke into your room last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “I see.” Ken frowned. “And what did you tell them?”

  Annja held her breath. “I agreed to do it.”

  Ken nodded and grinned. “Good. Very good.”

  “Good? You’re not upset?”

  Ken chuckled. “Are you kidding? What were you supposed to do when someone’s got you pinned down and able to kill you if they wanted? I wouldn’t expect anyone to be stubborn and refuse in that situation. Talk about being foolish. No, you did the right thing—the only thing you could do.”

  Annja exhaled in a rush. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

  “Of course I do. Did they give you some sort of ultimatum?”

  “They said they’d be able to find me anywhere if I tried to betray them. They’d find me and kill me no matter what.”

  Ken nodded. “So, the standard ultimatum 101, then. Good.”

  “You keep saying that. I fail to see how this is all so good. My stomach’s been in knots ever since. I thought you’d hate me for it.”

  Ken shook his head. “Look at it this way—we know there is at least one other party committed to recovering the vajra. They’re deadly serious, it would seem. That means they’re definitely a threat. But, they’re only a threat at the very end of the hunt, when you’re supposed to contact them and turn the vajra over to them. That gives us an amazing array of leverage and advantage.”

  “How so?”

  Ken spread his hands. “First of all, if they’re watching us, they will be one more set of eyes watching out for us. If there are other parties looking, they may find themselves having to deal with these people you spoke to last night.”

  “Good point.”

  “Also, by knowing that they expect you to contact them at the end of the hunt, we can plan our strategy accordingly. We have the pleasure of choosing the exact spot and time for the showdown. You can’t ask for anything better.”

  “Unless, of course, they watch us closely enough and then jump us when we actually have the vajra, instead of waiting for me to contact them.”

  “It’s a measured risk,” Ken said. “Did they tell you how to get in touch with them?”

  Annja frowned. “Actually, no.”

  “So that probably means they’ll have eyes on us the entire time. Maybe even right now.” Ken said this last bit with a mock seriousness that made Annja want to grin despite the nature of their conversation.

  Annja resisted the urge to look around the car. No sense alerting them. She looked at Ken. “You think it’s possible?”

  He shrugged. “I’m fairl
y good at detecting surveillance, but someone really good at it would have no problem shadowing us as long as they wanted to. And what makes it even harder is knowing there is more than one of them. They can swap off for short periods. Two faces instead of one. Makes remembering them all the tougher.”

  “Great,” Annja said.

  Ken shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I know plenty of ways to lose them if we want to.”

  “But we don’t want to, do we?” Annja could see the plan forming now.

  “I think we’re better off knowing they’re behind us. It’s always nice knowing we’ve got our six covered.”

  “Even by enemies?”

  “Even by enemies,” Ken said.

  Annja sighed. “If you say so. I guess I prefer to always have my enemies in front of me where I can see them. It makes it easier to attack them.”

  “Sure, who wouldn’t? But we can’t always choose our battles. So we make the best of them as they come and use our wits to even the playing field. If that’s possible.”

  “So who do you think they are? These people, I mean?” Annja said.

  “I have no idea.”

  Annja frowned. “Look, Ken, I was honest with you about this whole thing. And I can’t shake the feeling that you’re holding something back from me. You want my help, fine, but we’ve got to be honest with each other or this is never going to work.”

  “The search?”

  “That,” Annja said. “Or anything else.”

  Ken looked at her for a moment and then smiled. “You want to know about the Yakuza connection. I guess I don’t blame you.”

  “Well, that attack our first night together didn’t seem random.”

  Ken fixed another serious gaze upon Annja. “What would you do if I told you I’d hired them ahead of time to put on a show for you?”

  “I’d call you a silly man and tell you I don’t respond well to such idiocy or ridiculous displays of machismo.”

  Ken laughed. “Of course you would.” He leaned closer. “I didn’t, by the way. I just like seeing you react like that to crazy questions.”

  “So what’s the real reason?”

  Ken yawned and covered his mouth with one hand. “I sought the assistance of the Yakuza when I started my search.”