Warrior Spirit

by Alex Archer

  “Whatever for?” Why would he climb into bed with organized crime? It was a crazy thing to do, Annja thought.

  “The Yakuza have a great deal of leverage within my country. Even as the police attempt to crack down on them or politicians publicly condemn them, the Yakuza are as much an institution as any other here. Their history alone gives them something of an almost Robin Hood-type status. As such, they can get things done that are otherwise difficult within the constrains of Japanese society.”

  “But something like this?”

  Ken leaned closer to her. “I needed permission to search on certain lands. I needed a lot of bureaucratic signatures and notes. All of which were hard to acquire even with my wealth. I had plenty of money to grease hands with but I had no idea whose hands I had to grease in order to get things moving smoothly.”

  “But for the Yakuza, that’s easy knowledge. They’re in the game, so to speak,” Annja said.

  “Exactly. They know who and they know how to do it without raising a stink. So I paid them to pay off certain individuals. It seemed like an easy arrangement.”

  “So, what’s the problem, then?”

  Ken frowned. “I should have known better. The problem is they gradually began to piece together what it was I was doing—what I was looking for. And when they realized I was after the vajra, they proposed a very different business arrangement than we had had initially.”

  “They wanted to have it for themselves.”

  “They’d heard the legends, too. And they probably figured that it would be a good idea to try to acquire it for their own ends.” Ken smiled. “Obviously, I wasn’t comfortable with that idea.”

  “I’d guess not.”

  “So, I told them no.”

  “And naturally, they didn’t like that.” Annja couldn’t imagine saying no to the head of an organized crime family. Ken was either crazy or incredibly brave or even both.

  Ken laughed. “That’s an understatement. I was told I had to return it to them or they’d kill me.”

  Annja raised her eyebrows. “What did you do?”

  Ken smiled. “The same thing you did last night, my dear. I said yes.”

  “So why attack you the other night? If you agreed to their demands, it doesn’t make sense for them to beat you up.”

  Ken waved it off. “Probably just making sure I got the message. But the kids they used were simply for show. The beating wasn’t the message—the idea of it was. Maybe it was just their way of letting me know they were taking this seriously.”

  Annja nodded. “Looks like we’re both in trouble, then.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Misery loves company,” she said.

  Ken smiled. “It will only be miserable for a little time. You see, by knowing we have two parties after the vajra now, we can start working on how to play them off against each other. Hopefully, they will cancel each other out, so to speak, with a certain degree of finality, if you catch my meaning.”

  “Sounds risky.”

  Ken nodded. “It is very much so.”

  Annja took a breath in and then exhaled. “This trip is starting to remind me of every other hunt I’ve ever been on.”

  Ken nudged her. “Yeah, but it’s damned fun, isn’t it?”

  Annja looked at him. “It has the potential to be.”

  If everything works out, she thought.

  13

  “Annja.”

  Annja opened her eyes and looked at Ken. He was sliding his jacket on, his eyes surveying the train car casually.

  Annja stretched her arms and legs. “Have we arrived?”

  Ken nodded. “Yes, and it looks a bit overcast outside. I’m hoping it’s not too rainy. You did bring a jacket, right?”

  Annja sat up straight from where she’d been resting her head on the cushioned rest and wiped the sleep from her eyes. “I didn’t even know I’d fallen asleep.”

  Ken smiled. “You sleep utterly silently, do you know that?”

  “No. I assumed I snore like a congested heifer.”

  Ken laughed. “Whoever told you that was lying. Even when you reach the deepest part of sleep, you still are silent.” He stood and reached for his bag. “That’s quite a remarkable skill to have. Most people make some sort of noise. But not you.”

  Annja fished around in her bag and pulled out a black knee-length nylon rain jacket. She slid it on. “Well, nice to know I can impress even when I’m not aware of it.” She glanced around. “Everyone’s already off the train?”

  “I thought it might be prudent to let all the other passengers disembark first. This way, we can spot anyone who might perhaps be more than casually interested in us.”

  Annja frowned. “Only until we get out into the station itself, though. I assume there will be a lot more people milling around there. A surveillance team can position itself accordingly.”

  “There will be places they can hide. But we can use crowds to our advantage.”

  Annja stood and flexed her knees. “Can we use them to find our way to a restaurant? I’m more than slightly hungry.” She should have grabbed something at the snack car, but sleep came first. Annja had felt so relieved at being able to tell Ken about her room invasion that the stress release must have caused her to fall immediately asleep after they’d finished talking.

  “Of course. I know of a good one that lies within a few blocks of where we’re headed anyway. Do you like tripe?”

  Annja blanched. “That’s a cruel joke, right?”

  “Actually, yes. The restaurant serves great food. You’ll love it.” Ken glanced out of the closest windows and nodded. “I think now would be a good time for us to leave. Otherwise, we’ll find ourselves trapped here and on the way back to Tokyo.”

  Annja let him lead the way down the narrow aisles. When they reached the junction between cars, Ken slid the exit door open and stepped out onto the platform. Annja watched the way he shifted himself as he adjusted his coat, but in actuality used the movement to scan the platform. After a moment, he looked back at Annja and nodded.

  “Seems to be okay.”

  Annja stepped out and felt the cooler, drier air greet her. “It is a bit chilly, isn’t it?”

  Ken hefted his carryall over one shoulder and led Annja down the platform. “Do you know Osaka was going to be one of the cities that the Americans dropped the atomic bomb on? It was only at the last moment that the decision was made to spare the city because of the enormous civilian and cultural damage that would have resulted. Your generals knew that by targeting a city like this, it would have galvanized the Japanese even more, resulting in greater American casualties.”

  “I suppose that makes it all the easier to appreciate the city itself.” Annja wasn’t sure if she felt comfortable discussing the war. Or any war, for that matter. To Annja, they all seemed a ridiculous excuse for politicians to pretend they were warriors.

  “Indeed,” Ken said. “For those who live here, it was certainly a blessing. Granted, Osaka is a bit more textile heavy now than during the war, but it still has a great deal of beauty to it. You just have to know where to look for it.”

  They reached the escalator going up toward the main concourse. Giant video displays and bright billboards displaying soft drinks and strange-looking snack foods surrounded them. Ken seemed strangely tense even though Annja could swear he was completely relaxed.

  “You expecting trouble?” she asked.

  Ken glanced at her. “Yes. I am.”

  Annja’s stomach hurt immediately after he said that. She frowned. If trouble was imminent, she could probably bring the sword into play and quickly be done with anyone who wanted to cause them harm.

  “I really don’t think that would be the wisest decision at this point.”

  Ken’s words broke her out of her introspection. “What?”

  “Whatever you’re planning, I would suggest not doing it. It might cause us more trouble than it would save.”

  Annja frowned. How did he know s
he was thinking about drawing out her sword? And how did he even know about it? Could he read minds? Could he see into her thoughts? That didn’t make her feel very good. Annja liked having her mind to herself.

  “If you’re wondering, the answer is no. I can’t read your thoughts. I can feel the subtle changes in the energy you put out, though. You broadcast your intention and I pick that up. I can only guess at what it refers to specifically, but sometimes I come very close.”

  At the top of the concourse, Ken turned to her. “I know there are aspects about you that you wish to keep concealed. I understand that desire. I respect it. But if you have something that might aid us, I’d only ask you to consider what its appearance might do for our situation. Will it really help or hurt our progress?”

  Annja nodded. He was right. If she drew the sword in a crowded place like the train station, there’d be hundreds of witnesses. She and Ken would get hauled into the local police station for hours upon hours of questioning. When it was all done, they would have lost precious time that could have been better spent searching for the vajra.

  The sword would stay where it was if anyone threatened.

  Ken turned and kept walking. Annja caught up with him. “Does your ability to feel intention come from the godan test?”

  “Yes. But in the wake of that test, a great many things happen, depending on the person who passes it. A sincere and good person by nature will find themselves on a very peculiar journey.”

  “What kind of journey?”

  “One where you question everything about yourself. It’s during this time that you must be completely and totally honest with what you are. If you are by nature someone who does things of questionable morality and then attempts to deny your true self, you will either devolve into a living hell or simply be unable to fully understand the wonders of the world in the wake of the test.”

  “And what if you’re a good person?” Annja asked.

  “If you’re honest with yourself, there is still a trying period of self-exploration. After all, even the best of us have things we may not like about ourselves. By confronting, acknowledging and accepting those things, we remove their ability to cause us internal harm. It’s a process of exorcising one’s personal demons.”

  “That doesn’t sound easy.” Annja felt sure there were a few skeletons in her own closet that would put up a substantial fight if she tried to get rid of them.

  Ken shook his head. “It’s not. And the process can take a number of years.”

  “Years?”

  Ken chuckled. “Enlightenment isn’t an overnight transaction, Annja. Granted many people tout it as such, but truly experiencing life-changing, honest-to-goodness enlightenment takes much longer.”

  “And what about after the process is complete?”

  Ken shrugged. “Certain skills and abilities reveal themselves over time. Not in a grand fashion, but more as a natural extension of skills already present.”

  “Just another way to see the world, eh?”

  “Something like that, yes.”

  Ahead of them the concourse throbbed with people. Ken nodded. “Osaka is a huge metropolis, second only to Tokyo. Its train stations naturally reflect that.”

  Annja scanned the crowd but could pick out no one who seemed particularly dangerous. “How in the world do you sense the presence of danger in a place like this?”

  “You wing it,” Ken said. They moved into the crowds and Annja stayed behind Ken as he threaded his way through the bustling throngs of commuters, schoolkids and elderly people on errands.

  She stayed close to him. “You’re not serious about winging it, are you?”

  Ken shrugged. “It’s tough to pinpoint anything in such a group. Probably the best way to avoid danger in this location is to simply avoid walking through it in the first place. By simply not being here, you avoid the danger.”

  “We don’t really have a choice, though,” Annja pointed out.

  “And that’s what makes this so problematic.” Ken indicated to the exit. “Once we clear the building, we’ll be better off. If someone does choose this time to attack, we’ll at least have a better environment to handle them.”

  They managed to push through the final hundred feet without incident. Annja spotted a gaggle of schoolgirls loitering near the entrance, all glued to video iPods and cell phones. How times have changed, she thought. Back in her day, Annja would have either been working out or had her nose stuck in a book.

  Outside, the overcast skies enveloped them in a moist mist that didn’t fall as much as simply float in the air. Annja was glad she’d brought her raincoat. Ken zipped his jacket.

  “Are we clear?” she asked.

  Ken smiled. “Oh, not by a long shot.”

  Annja frowned. “But we left the station. No one tried to attack us.”

  “That’s true,” Ken said. “And ordinarily, that might make a person inclined to feel safe. But you must also view the position of the attacker in order to determine the relative level of safety.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Talking with Ken could be almost as annoying as talking to Roux or Garin, she decided.

  “Would it make sense for an attacker to go after us in the train station?”

  Annja looked back at the building. It had been far too crowded in there for anyone to make much of an assault. “I guess not.”

  “Short of someone trying to stab us as we walked past, opening fire or blowing the place up is a highly ineffective strategy.”

  “So what you’re saying is we’re still in danger.”

  Ken nodded. “As long as we’re after this vajra, it’s my belief we’ll be in danger.”

  “Swell,” Annja muttered.

  Behind them, the doors of the station opened. Annja watched as roughly a dozen schoolgirls came sidling through the portal, all of them giggling and sashaying about on the concrete walkway.

  “We should go now,” Ken said.

  Annja turned to follow him. The walkway sloped downward at an angle. Ken reached the bottom first and then glanced at Annja. “Can you run?”

  Annja’s stomach hurt again suddenly. “Why?”

  Ken pulled her to the ground as a flash of metal cut through the air where Annja’s head had been a second earlier. Annja glanced back and saw the schoolgirls rushing at them, screaming like a flock of crazed crows.

  “Come on.” Ken yanked her arm, and Annja let herself be pulled along down the main street as the schoolgirls chased behind them. Ken went flying past a bewildered police officer.

  Annja looked behind her in time to see the cop put his hand up to stop the schoolgirls, only to have it hacked off by one of the girls who wielded a sword. The cop spun and went down, his arm spraying crimson on to the street.

  “They just killed that guy!” she shouted.

  “They’ll kill us, too, if we’re not careful.” Ken ducked down a side alley and Annja followed. Trash lined the slick ground. They skidded to a stop.

  The alley ended in a concrete wall that ran twenty feet high.

  Ken frowned and turned. He didn’t seem to be out of breath. “So much for that option.”

  Annja could hear the screams of the girls as they skidded to a stop in front of the alley. They saw Ken and Annja, the dead end they’d boxed themselves in, and smirked collectively.

  “I guess we make our stand here,” Ken said. He glanced around and found a length of wood on the ground. It was easily ten feet long, but Ken cracked it over his knee and handed half of it to Annja.

  “Use this,” he said.

  “But they’re just kids.”

  Ken shook his head. “They’re killers. And if you think of them as kids, they’ll kill you. They’re all old enough to know better. Whoever hired them to attack us, hired them for a reason. If they come at us, you must think of them as enemies. Give them no quarter because they’ll show you no mercy, either.”

  Annja hefted the wood in her hands. Compared to the swords, chains and assorted oth
er blades she saw the girls handling fifty feet away, the wooden staff seemed woefully inadequate against their arsenal.

  One of the girls hurled another throwing star at them. But Ken merely knocked it away with his staff. It skittered away, clanging on the damp ground.

  Annja stood next to Ken and smiled. “This kind of thing happen on all your dates?”

  He glanced at her. “Is this a date?”

  “I was kidding, silly.”

  Ken smiled. “You can’t say it isn’t fun, though. Can you?”

  “Ask me when this is over.”

  The girls screamed en masse and just as they were about to charge, another sound filled the alley. It flooded the area like a grumbling thunderstorm and it took Annja a moment to realize someone was chanting.

  “What the?”

  Ken put a hand on her arm. “Wait.”

  The chanting grew louder and the schoolgirls looked nervous. From behind them, it looked as if a gray mist was coming for them, billowing into the alley. The chanting grew louder and more ominous and almost made Annja’s ears hurt.

  The effect on the schoolgirls, however, was more profound. As the mist enveloped them, they screamed in terror. Annja could see flailing limbs and heard sharp whacks and hits and strikes and more startled cries from within the cloud of mist.

  After several long seconds, the screeching stopped.

  The mist began to fade.

  Annja could see the sprawled bodies of the schoolgirls on the ground. Their weapons were nowhere to be seen.

  “What the hell just happened?” Annja asked, confused.

  Ken tugged on her arm. “Come on.”

  They ran past the schoolgirls. Annja couldn’t tell if they were dead or just unconscious. At the mouth of the alley they stopped. Ken pointed.

  “Look.”

  Down the street, they saw the robed figure of an elderly monk leaning on a staff with rings atop it.

  The monk stopped, turned and bowed low.

  Ken returned the bow.

  “Who was that?” asked Annja.

  Ken shook his head. “I don’t know. But he just saved our lives.”