Warrior Spirit

by Alex Archer

  “If it was a gift to the Yumegakure-ryu for the service they rendered to your family, what makes you think you have the right to reclaim it?”

  “Because you relinquished it to these monks. You took what was an incredibly potent gift and hid it in a mountain.”

  Ken nodded. “For the good of mankind.”

  “Rubbish! You hid it here because you were afraid of using it. You knew you didn’t have the honor and power to wield such a magnificent thing. And rather than give it back, you couldn’t admit your weakness and chose to hide it here instead.”

  Ken shrugged. “I have no idea what my ancestors might have thought except that they believed it might be used for evil purposes.”

  “Cowards.”

  Ken looked at Nezuma. “And what would you do with this?”

  “That’s none of your concern.”

  Ken shook his head. “That’s not quite true. Since I hold the vajra, it’s in my best interests to know what you’d do with it.”

  “It is in your best interest to hand that over to me right now before I kill you,” Nezuma said. “There is nothing else you should be concerned with.”

  “And I’m to believe that you’ll let us all live if I hand it over?” Ken smiled. “I think we both know that’s not going to happen.”

  “I never said I wouldn’t kill you,” Nezuma said. “But I’ll make it quick and relatively painless if you hand it over right now.”

  “I can’t do that,” Ken said.

  Annja closed her eyes for a second. She could see the sword. She reached for it and felt her hands close around the hilt.

  In the instant when Nezuma leveled his gun and fired at Ken, Annja tore the sword free and swung it down, causing the bullet to bounce off the blade and ricochet off the cave wall.

  Annja swung the sword horizontally and caught the barrel of Nezuma’s gun, knocking it off target. She swept up and tried to cut back down, but Nezuma deflected the blade and redirected it away from him.

  He backhanded Annja in the face with the gun, causing her to stagger and drop the sword.

  As it clanged to the ground, it simply vanished.

  Nezuma stopped and aimed his gun at Annja. “Now, what exactly just happened there?”

  “Nothing. It was an optical illusion,” she said.

  Nezuma’s eyes sparkled. “Could it be that I’ll gain not one but two magical items today to help me in my conquests? How amazing.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Annja said.

  Nezuma put the gun barrel against her temple. “If I were you, I would somehow find a way to get that sword back right now. Or else I will shoot you dead and not care about the sword at all. After all, once I get the vajra, I won’t need anything else.”

  Annja closed her eyes. She could see the sword back where it belonged. She wrapped her hands around it but it wouldn’t move.

  She opened her eyes. “I can’t get it out now.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Nezuma sighed. “In that case, I don’t really have much use for you anymore, do I?”

  “Nezuma.”

  Annja heard Ken’s voice and looked over. Ken flicked his wrist, and Annja saw a blur of metal go whipping past her head.

  It caught Nezuma’s hand and he cried out, backing away as he tore the shuriken out of his skin and bone and tossed it aside.

  “Enough of this. You’re all dead.” Nezuma raised his gun.

  Annja closed her eyes and tried to get to the sword again. But it still wouldn’t budge. Why not? I need it now more than I ever have before. Why won’t it come out?

  Ken dropped and rolled forward as Nezuma’s gun fired. Ken came up and flicked his wrist again. The two shuriken he threw at Nezuma made the huge man jump to avoid them.

  Annja marveled at how fast Nezuma was for his size and she had flashbacks to how he’d fought back at the budokan.

  Ken closed the distance and kicked out at Nezuma’s leg, using it to bridge the distance and come in, bringing the vajra down hard on the bridge of Nezuma’s nose.

  Annja heard a sharp crack as Nezuma’s nose was crushed. Blood ran out of his nose.

  Ken followed up with a chop to the side of Nezuma’s neck that made the bleeding fighter stagger.

  But he swept back, ducking as Ken attempted to gain an arm bar on Nezuma. Nezuma righted himself and jerked his gun up, trying to aim it at Ken’s head.

  Annja could see his finger already starting to squeeze the trigger.

  “Ken!”

  Two gunshots rang out. Annja winced.

  Ken rolled to the floor.

  Nezuma sank on his knees.

  Ken got to his feet.

  Nezuma looked down at his chest and the blossoming crimson stain on his shirt. He brought his hand over his chest and looked at it in disbelief when it came away red.

  “Who?”

  “Me.”

  Annja looked at the door. A woman stood there caked in dark blood and grime. But the terrible gun she held looked deadly enough.

  Nezuma frowned. “Shuko?”

  “Hello…master.”

  37

  Annja watched the shock wash over Nezuma’s face. Despite the gunshot wound, he still managed to pull himself up. “I thought you were—”

  “Dead?” Shuko smiled. “I’m sure you wish I was. But fortunately, I took some precautions back in the circulation caves to ensure my own survival. A little body armor and some latex makeup can work wonders. Not that you cared to try to help me even if it had been real.”

  “I would have—”

  “Please,” Shuko snapped. “You left me for dead willingly. And it’s been apparent for a while now that you’ve been planning to kill me anyway. You almost did at the ryokan.”

  “You let us fail,” Nezuma said.

  “Deliberately,” Shuko said. “If Kennichi and the woman spotted us, then they might just get complacent enough to not spot the real team I had in place. The one that allowed me to stage the attack on their ryokan.”

  Nezuma shook his head. “This makes no sense. That attack was carried out by the Onigawa-gumi.”

  Ken looked up. “It was?”

  Shuko nodded. “Of course it was. I needed to make it look like we wanted you both dead. I sacrificed several good men in the process. But sometimes, that is the price you must pay.”

  Ken leaned back. “My god.”

  Shuko smiled.

  “What is it?” Annja asked.

  “All this time…I’d heard the rumors but I never believed them, of course. Who would?” Ken looked at Shuko. “It was you.”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Who is she?” Annja asked.

  Ken pointed at her. “She’s the oyabun—the head—of the Onigawa-gumi Yakuza clan.”

  Nezuma sniffed. “Utterly ridiculous. She is merely my pupil—albeit a fine one. She had nevertheless betrayed me. An oyabun? Nonsense.”

  Shuko glanced at him. Disdain shadowed her face. “You were always far too concerned with appearances and tradition to allow yourself to see what was truly happening after you plucked me from the slums. As I learned, I also schemed.”

  “I should have let the rats eat you,” Nezuma spit.

  Shuko smiled. “Maybe. But I used my training and resources to start what will soon be the most powerful crime syndicate on the planet. Already my emissaries are reaching out to like-minded organizations all over the world. Soon we will use our networks to rule crime like never before.”

  Annja closed her eyes and saw the sword resting there.

  “But you,” Shuko continued, “you would never have let me live to see my own destiny. That’s why I took matters into my own hands.”

  “I might have killed you at the ryokan,” Nezuma said. “Where would your grandiose plans have been then?”

  “You would have died in another second had you not released me,” Shuko said. “There was a sniper resting his crosshairs on your head just wait
ing for me to give him the signal.”

  Nezuma closed his mouth.

  Shuko turned to Annja. “I must say it’s been a pleasure seeing you travel with Ken and help him in his quest for the vajra. It’s not often I feel admiration toward another woman, but you have certainly earned my respect.”

  “Uh…thanks,” Annja said.

  Shuko shrugged. “It’s a shame I’ll have to kill you.”

  “Couldn’t we talk this over?” Annja inched her way toward Ken.

  Shuko gestured with the gun. “Don’t do that. It might make my trigger finger jump before I’m ready.”

  Annja stopped moving. Shuko looked at Ken. “So, you heard the rumors, then?”

  He nodded. “People said the oyabun was a woman, but I didn’t believe it. My own stupidity, I suppose.”

  “Would it have changed anything?” Shuko asked.

  “No. The vajra belongs to the Yumegakure-ryu and no one else.”

  Shuko frowned. “Pity. I thought we might make an alliance. I could use someone to train my men in the ways of the ninja.”

  Nezuma groaned. “Kill me now, Shuko. I want to hear no more of this dishonorable talk.”

  Shuko shook her head. “Such hypocrisy. You claim to hold the traditions of Japan sacred. That you wish for the old-world Bushido ways, and yet you would use the vajra to further your own criminal agenda.” She sighed. “But have it your way.”

  Her gun barked twice and the rounds caught Nezuma in his chest. He dropped to the floor dead.

  Shuko turned her attention back to the monks. “Go. I have no quarrel with you. You’re free to leave.”

  The monks filed out of the room, leaving Annja and Ken behind. Ken shifted slightly, palming the vajra.

  Shuko looked at her watch.

  “Waiting for something?” Annja asked.

  Shuko smiled as the sound of gunfire broke out. Sustained bursts of automatic fire caromed around the monastery along with screams and moans of the dying.

  Ken frowned. “You sent them to their deaths.”

  Shuko shrugged. “My men were anxious to kill after the harsh beating you two put on them the other night. To say they’re anxious to meet you and avenge their comrades is a bit of an understatement.”

  “Just what do you think the vajra will do for you?” Ken asked. “Do you know anything about it?”

  “Do you?”

  Ken smiled. “Not a damned thing. I was looking forward to seeing what it could do.”

  Shuko shook her head. “Well, unfortunately for you, I’ll be taking that now.”

  The gunfire had stopped elsewhere. Annja felt sick thinking about all the monks who had just been slaughtered. She felt waves of rage wash over her and she closed her eyes.

  The sword rested in front of her.

  All she had to do was grab it.

  “I don’t think so,” Shuko said.

  She opened her eyes and saw Ken holding the vajra aloft. He looked different somehow.

  Shuko brought her gun up to bear, but as she did so, Ken started chanting in some weird monotone that Annja had never heard before.

  Shuko froze.

  Annja snapped her eyes shut and grabbed the sword. She opened her eyes and threw the sword across the room.

  The blade hissed through the air as beams of light shot out of the vajra and into Shuko at the same time the sword slammed into her midsection, shoving her back into the wall.

  Bright red blood shot out of her mouth, and her eyes went wide and white almost immediately. The beams of light cut into her body like lasers.

  Shuko threw her head back and screamed.

  Annja brought her hand up to shield herself from the intense light exploding across the room.

  Ken kept chanting.

  The light vanished and Ken stopped his mantra.

  Shuko stood transfixed at the rear wall. Her gun lay on the floor.

  She looked down at Annja’s sword jutting out of her chest. She slumped over.

  Dead.

  Annja breathed out. “Wow.”

  Ken brought his hand down with the vajra in it and turned it over in his hand. “That was certainly something.”

  “How did you do that?”

  He shook his head. “I have no idea. I just…I don’t know…made it happen, I guess.”

  “Well, whatever you did, it certainly worked. It distracted her and I was able to reach for the sword.”

  “Look,” Ken said.

  Annja turned and saw one of the monks standing in the door frame. He bowed low and smiled. “You are all right?”

  Ken nodded. “It’s good to see you and your brothers intact.”

  “When she let us go, it seemed fairly obvious what would be waiting for us out there. Her men stood no chance. And staging the massacre seemed like a good idea.”

  “She certainly fell for it,” Ken said.

  “What will you do now?” the monk asked.

  Ken smiled. “Honestly, I’d like to go home. Is there an easier way out of here than how we came in?”

  He glanced at Annja. “Are you ready to get going?”

  “Just one second.” She walked over to Shuko and slid her sword out of Shuko’s corpse. Holding it in both hands, she closed her eyes and returned the sword to its resting place.

  When she opened her eyes again, both Ken and the monk were staring.

  “Some day,” Ken said, “you’ll have to teach me how you do that.”

  Annja laughed. “Just as soon as I figure the whole thing out myself.”

  38

  The monks showed them how to best exit the mountain, but kept Annja and Ken blindfolded the entire time, telling them that secrecy of the monastery was paramount and this way they’d never be able to reveal its actual location.

  On the walk back down the mountain, Annja kept looking at Ken. She could see the happiness in his gait and spirit. Throughout the hike, he stayed fairly quiet, seemingly preferring to stay inside his own head.

  Annja had a great deal to think about, as well. A lot had happened on this trip, and she had to process it all. She’d been concerned about how she was unable to bring the sword out to protect herself when she and Ken had been in the midst of the fog. But she guessed that it wouldn’t come out because the monks hadn’t meant her harm, despite giving the appearance of that. Had she been able to draw the sword, she definitely would have killed some of them.

  So did the sword know when the danger was real as opposed to imagined? And if there was no true danger, would she be able to pull it out anymore and examine it? Or had that time passed?

  There was little doubt that things were evolving. Annja just wasn’t sure where she fit into the whole picture. In some ways she felt like a tool to be used by the sword. And other times it seemed that the sword was the tool.

  She still didn’t feel that they were unified in body and spirit.

  That, she supposed, would take many years.

  “Are you all right?” Ken asked.

  She smiled. “I think so, yes.”

  Ken stepped over a thick tree root and grinned. “Some trip we’ve had ourselves, Annja Creed.”

  “It certainly has been something.”

  “What will you do now?”

  Annja shrugged. “The same thing I always do—go home, get myself stuck in the middle of something new, exciting and potentially dangerous.”

  Ken laughed. “You enjoy that, don’t you?”

  Annja thought about it. “I suppose I do. Remember when you spoke about the moon’s reflection on the water? And how we have a tendency as humans to see what we desperately want to see, not how things actually are?”

  “I remember,” Ken said. “It took me years to learn that lesson. Years to become comfortable with who I was—the man I’d become. It is not an easy thing to do, stare into the mirror of pure truth and be comfortable with what is reflected back at you.”

  “I can see how it wouldn’t be.” Annja shrugged. “But I guess I’m starting to feel a bit more
comfortable with who I am now. And I do enjoy taking risks. I have to accept that part of myself if I am to understand fully what it means to have this sword that I’ve got.”

  Ken’s eyes danced. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about that.”

  Annja laughed. “Is this going to be our special phrase from now on?”

  Ken stopped. “I didn’t know there was going to be a from now on.”

  “Well, there’s not,” Annja replied, momentarily taken aback. “I mean, I just thought that, you know, if we ever run into each other again. It’s a small world and all. And you know, you had been following me all over the place prior to this.”

  Ken smiled. “Then it will be our phrase. And maybe when we’ve both had some time to figure out our own personal destinies, maybe we’ll see each other again.”

  “I’d like that,” Annja admitted.

  “As would I.”

  They passed the remainder of the trip in silence. Part of Annja hated the idea of leaving Ken. She’d had a lot of fun being with him. But she also knew that while it might be fun to hang out for a while, she’d grow restless. She had adventures to undertake. She had places to visit.

  And evil to stop.

  She frowned. Now where had that thought come from?

  Ken reached the trailhead first and waited for Annja to come through the bush. “You think our car is still there?” he asked.

  Annja stopped. “You don’t think someone stole it?”

  Ken shrugged. “Hey, we’re not immune to car theft over here, you know.”

  “I am not walking back to Ueno,” Annja said. “If the car is missing, you’ll have to carry me back.”

  “Deal.”

  But the car was right where they’d left it. Annja was a bit surprised that none of Shuko’s Yakuza thugs had demolished it on the way in.

  “So, the Onigawa-gumi is all destroyed, right?” Annja asked.

  Ken nodded. “I’d certainly think so. The monks took care of them. Despite Shuko’s insistence that they were going global, I don’t think they were. One reason I chose to approach the Onigawa-gumi in the first place was they were smaller than other clans. I felt I could deal with them reasonably.” He laughed. “Well, as reasonably as you can with Yakuza.”