“So be it,” I said slowly, massaging my chin. “I hope that I will not regret my decision.”
“I won't let you down.”
I could only release a heavy sigh.
“As long as you don't die in the process.”
Chapter 8
God damn it. Freaking aristocrats. Now I have to go to a business dinner. It's no shocker that one round of negotiations would not be enough, but dinner with the head of the clan? Oho-ho.
“Eh, Taro... Damn it, Goro, get to the hospital, now,” I reached for the first aid kit behind me. “Bear with me, Legless, it'll be easier after you pop the pills. How are you doing anyway?”
At the moment, Taro was sitting next to me in the car, leaning on the back of the seat with his back straight as an arrow and his eyes closed. His pale face was slightly twisted in pain, and his left hand was lying on his right side—where he was wounded.
He spent four hours of negotiations stoically, never showing that yesterday he had gotten a bullet in his side, lost a lot of blood, and at the end, had to drag his own bodyguard to safety. Even when he got into the car, he kept face for a while, smiling casually while looking through the window. But when the Porsche left the headquarters of the clan Aketi, his face slowly began to turn pale. Considering that he wasn’t really healthy pink before that I even got a little scared for him.
“I don't feel good, boss. But it was worth it.”
Judging by his voice, it wasn't so bad. At least, he didn't sound weak. Only fatigue showed through.
Where the hell is the water?
“Goro, where is the water?”
“Umm.”
“You gotta be kidding me.”
“Well...”
“Damn it. Here,” I handed the guy two tablets, “you'll have to dry-swallow them.”
I like Goro's smooth driving. I can't say that Rymov drives much worse, but it's a little rougher. Personally, I have no complaints: I notice this difference and that's it, but right now, I was glad that Goro was driving. By the time we arrived at the hospital, Taro even got a little blushed.
Once the hospital building could be seen through the car window, I called the guards who were waiting for us, and when Vasya-Chan parked, a couple of guys helped Taro get back to his hospital room. By the way, he wasn't discharged from the hospital, we had just “leased” him, so to speak. You don't want to know how much persuading that took.
While Taro was signing in to his current place of residence, at least for the next week, I decided to visit Sugishima. I never did get a chance to talk to him yesterday, and wasn’t at the hospital this morning.
I hope he is able to talk. And if not, it's all right—I just hope he gets better.
When I got to the third floor and reached the bodyguard's room, I saw the guards I had met the day before: the man with a scar below his eye and his partner from the subspecies “invisible”. It seemed to me that he didn't have a very prominent personality—so much so that a little bit more, and he would be able to master the basic distraction maneuver. That's funny—in his childhood, he probably was the perfect geek.
Nodding to the guys, I walked into the room. Sugishima was lying there with his eyes closed and did not show signs of life.
“Hello,” I said in a half-whisper. “Is there anyone alive? Someone who isn't sleeping.”
“Hello, Sakurai-san,” Sugishima greeted me, opening his eyes.
“What's up, Doc? Hm, I mean patient. I hope you're feeling better,” there was no chair next to his bed, so I had to drag the one that stood at the door. “So what's bothering you, patient?” I asked, sitting down next to his bed.
After a couple of seconds of silence, he finally replied.
“I'm bored.”
“Yes, I can imagine. Do you want me to send you some books? Or how about a TV in here? What do you think?”
“I'd appreciate that, Sakurai-san.”
“Well, great—that's solved. Any other requests?”
“No, sir.”
“I didn't know you were so unpretentious,” I said that, thinking that at least he mentioned he was bored. I guess it was pretty bad in there. “Did any of our people come to visit you?”
“Kuroda-san.”
“I see. So, that means he must have asked you about everything. Well, then I won't torture you for the second time. Answer me this, though: Why didn't you have any protection?”
“I had protection. A bulletproof vest.”
“Are you saying that there should have been a bullet hole where your ribs are broken?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where did the bullet come from?” I thought. “Actually, it's just idle curiosity. It doesn't make a difference. How are you feeling? That’s a stupid question, too. The answer is in your medical report,” I grinned, then sighed. “I'm going to find you assistants. What do you think?”
He answered almost immediately.
“I'm not a leader.”
“Well. Can you manage five people?”
This time he thought a bit longer.
“Five... Yes, I can.”
“Perfect.”
Don’t worry, I'll make you a man, thirsty for power.
“I have not yet selected people for Taro, so if you have someone in mind, say so.”
I do what I can. With the shortage of people that I have, even five is a pretty good number.
“I'll think about it.”
Since he didn't refuse immediately, it meant he had someone on his mind. That was good.
“That's fine,” I said, standing up. “It might sound banal, but get well soon.”
I thought that the healer I hired after I saw him bringing Taro back to life, would be able to help him, as soon as he felt a little better.
“The TV is likely to come tomorrow,” I said before leaving. “But I'll try to arrange everything today.”
Leaving the room, I looked for the guards. After taking a couple of steps in the direction of the elevator, I stopped. After all, why not satisfy my curiosity? Approaching Scarface and putting a polite smile on my face, I said, “Should we get to know each other? Well, you know my name.”
“Nakamura Gai,” he introduced himself.
“Yamamoto.”
This one wasn’t lucky with the last name, it looked. I, for example, only know one other person with the same name as mine, and as many as three Yamamotos. And this is in Japan, where namesakes are much less common than in other countries. In most countries, in any case.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, bowing slightly. “Nakamura-san, can I ask you an indiscreet question?”
“Heh, go ahead, Sakurai-san.”
“Where did you work before Shidotamoru?”
“In the police.”
“Seriously? Don't get me wrong, but you look kind of like a... criminal.”
“Does this bother you, Sakurai... san?”
“Oh, no, not at all. Just curious. That's all.”
He said an interesting thing after he snorted at my words and shook his head.
“I'll tell you more, Sakurai-san, I was a senior investigator in the AR-2 department.”
Wow! Interesting people work for me. AR-2, if anyone doesn't know, is the department dealing with aristocratic crimes. What did he do, that they terminated the senior investigator? Perhaps, they didn't kick him out.
“I apologize for another tactless question, but ... did you leave at your own will or...”
“The latter one. Who'd leave such a position at their own will? If anything, Yamamoto,” he nodded to his partner, “worked with me. And so he left.”
“Um...”
“He followed me,“ he shook his head in condemnation.
In general, I'm surprised that such a person got a job as a security guard. However, if he was terminated...
“I take it that the one who helped you in losing the old job, also made it hard to find a decent other job?”
“Exactly, boy—I mean Sakurai-san.”
“
Mmm, I can always look into your case or ask other people, but I'd rather ask you personally.”
“I crossed the line. That's my answer.”
“That's not true, Nakamura-san,” muttered Yamamoto standing next to him.
“It is!” Gai answered irritably, then turned back to me and explained, “I had no evidence; there were no witnesses; I didn't have anything at all, but I, the fool, continued to conduct business, even three cases, terrorizing as many as four aristocrats. AR departments are under the direct protectorate of the Emperor, it’s very dangerous trying to pressure any of us. I just went too far, feeling protected. I wanted to get back at them by playing dirty tricks. And as a result, even my superiors didn't want to cover me,” he shook his head. “In the AR department, you know, that’s an indicator. If we were not protected, we couldn’t work. I don't consider myself guilty of anything, but I admit that... I did cross the line.”
Wow. As a result of his actions, he wasn't even able to find a job higher than a security guard. However, as I see it, the man did not break. Hey! Why not? Security Council of Shidotamoru is, above all, protection, and it's foolish to use it as counterintelligence. At the same time, such counterintelligence is necessary. Especially in light of the recent events. It is actually a miracle that the absence of such an office didn't come to haunt me sooner. Essentially, I could say that I’m very lucky, considering the fact that Taro and Sugishima are alive. By the way, I also need my own intelligence service. Enough asking Akemi for help.
I thought that before having entered senior school, I did not really need all this—my main defense was invisibility. Then Crystal Eve happened, and everything set off at a great pace. Oh well, whatever.
“Let's have a seat.”
I needed to think about this new developing thought.
“I'm good,” Nakamura said.
Perhaps, I should leave it for another time. Yes, perhaps, a couple of days will not change much.
“Alright. I have a question for you. Try to answer it sincerely,” I made a meaningful pause. “Why in the hell did you not leave those cases alone?”
Oh, how he grimaced. He didn't like the question that much? Or maybe he doesn’t like the answer?
“Out of spite,” he said. “I took revenge for my loss. For not being able to catch them.”
Strangely enough, but this answer sounds good to me. It's better than if he was a champion of good and justice.
“Maybe it's for the best,” he said, somehow abruptly calming down. “Here, the pay is better.”
“Come on,” I did not believe it. “Are you saying that the civil service is low pay? I mean, did you have a low salary at your old position?”
“I'm not saying it was low. I said that I get more money here.”
“Well, okay. What about the under-the-counter earnings?”
“Are you kidding me? In the AR department?” He grinned. “I have a sick daughter that I'm taking care of, and I, thank God, have not gone mad yet.”
“Do they keep tabs on you?”
“Skin-searches every month. Plus, the polygraph every week. I wince when I remember those days.”
His partner flinched at his words.
“I'm gonna go,” I said, smiling. “Thank you for talking to me.”
I went to visit Taro before I left. I wanted to make sure that the fellow hadn’t kicked the bucket yet. Strangely enough, he was feeling pretty good when I walked in.
I didn't go to the base. There was nothing I could do there at the moment. By the time I’d get there, no one would be there: they would have left for their missions. I thought that visiting Akemi would be a good idea. It was time to find out what she had gotten as far as Yamashita. By the way, he was the one who had organized yesterday's attack. He hadn't even recovered from the car accident arranged by Taro, was still glued to the hospital bed, but was already being spiteful. Attacking Nemoto was understandable, but Somatsu would definitely not go unpunished.
***
“Shinji!”
“Akemi?”
“Shinji-i-i!”
“Are you drunk or something?”
“Si-inji-i!”
“I'm sorry, I must have gotten the wrong door.”
Without turning my back to her, I opened the door—good thing I was close to it—and quickly disappeared. As soon as I shut the door, it shuddered from the impact of the body on the other side.
“What's wrong with her?” I asked Mouse who was standing nearby. He shrugged his shoulders.
“Si-inji-i!” I heard scratching from the other side. “It's been a long time since I’ve seen you.”
Should I go home? She weirds me out.
“You frighten me, woman!” I raised my voice. “Female alcoholism is dangerous!”
Silence in response. Complete silence. It didn't last long though.
“Shinji-ee-ee!” She tried to break out.
For another five minutes we joked around, and then, finally, calmed down and got to business.
“Here you go,” she said, dropping a folder with papers on my lap, then sat in the chair opposite me. “You know, in the last month, I’ve managed to train my people so well that they’ve begun to write quite decent reports. Some enthusiasts have even managed to spice them up with photos as illustrations. Yet, they used to be such lovely thugs.”
“What about Yamashita's patron?” I asked, leafing through the pages. There was too much to read. “Okay, then I'll figure it out later,” I closed the folder. “In general, what can you say about this case?”
“The patron is silent. That is, he does not help at all. It seems that after you bought his company, he was immediately shunned. I'll even say more, the eldest son of Yamashita has visited the Vakia bloodline twice already. Apparently, they are trying to find a new master.”
Japan is a small country, just as Tokyo is a small city.
“Well, in general, what's going on with him?”
“Yamashita still can't get out of bed. His eldest son is searching desperately for a patron, and his youngest son is looking for mercenaries. The whole family moved to the Omatsu hotel downtown the other week. It's similar to this one, so it's much harder to get to him now than it used to be.”
True—downtown Tokyo, his own guards, the hotel guards, other guests' guards, etc. I need a VERY well thought-out plan.
“But he's the only one who doesn't leave the place. So let's start with the sons. Anything else?”
“He's interested in your estate. A couple of his people are watching it. By the way, I don't know why, but he is sure that there’s only one Veteran among your people.”
“And how did you find this out?”
“My guys overheard a conversation of his mercenaries. They have two Veterans, and they are confident of their victory.”
“So he's not hiding that he is going to fight with me? Terrific. Stop. Why does he need a patron-aristocrat if he is so sure of his victory?”
“Hm. I don't know. Do your own analysis.”
“You're sinister.”
“What? Did I make you excited?”
“Get out. Nymphomaniac,” I said softly, but so that she could hear.
Sitting in the chair, she stretched her arms overhead, and with that body of hers... it was... yes...
“What does he have going on as far as regular fighters?”
“He already had fifteen people and hired thirty-two more just recently. Surely there are Warriors among them, but I don't know how many.”
“I hope this whole crowd is not staying at the hotel with him?” I said half-interrogatively.
“No, only his immediate personnel. Fifteen people. The rest are in his house, on the outskirts of the city.”
“That’s something at least. Has he started a new business?”
“I did not hear anything like that.”
“Does he have any connections with Garagarahabi?”
“He doesn't have such connections. And why would he have needed them until recently?”
“Well, yes, he did go under the protection of the Odzato bloodline.”
For ten more minutes I asked and she answered. From time to time, we'd make jokes.
“Shi-indji-i-i,” she drawled as I paused, scanning the folder. “Shi-i-in.”
“Uh? What?”
“I have a request for you...”
“Hm. I'm listening,” I said carefully.
“Could you give me some MIAs as a present?”
There she goes again with her jokes. Even if you do not take into account that she has her own, Akemi is not the girl who will beg for gifts.
“When was the last time you used your own MIAs?”
“Well...”
“See? They are just sitting there, collecting dust. All you do is spend money on their maintenance.”
Garagarahabi didn’t really like to use mobile infantry armor, but any self-respecting Mafia boss had a couple of pieces stocked away just in case. This was despite the fact that they did not usually have professional pilots. Because of this, they used only about half of the MIA’s possibilities and functions. Nevertheless, they kept them in store. Just in case. What if a fortified mansion would have to be stormed, for example?
“Shinji...”
“C’mon, what now? Can a man just have five minutes of peace and quiet?”
“Shin...”
“Let's talk about how Snake is doing there,” I interrupted another howl.
“Should we talk about it in the morning?” She had her feet up on her chair, pressing her fists to her chin.
Hmm. Why should I lie to myself? Yes, I did count on it.
“That sounds like a really good idea.”
***
I snoozed on the way to the base and woke up only at the gate.
“Seven?” I muttered, looking out of the window. “Something is clearly not right.”
Entering the office and looking at my chair, I sighed. If I didn’t come up with a way to wake myself up somehow now, I'd fall asleep right here, at work. I did good picking out the chair for my desk back in the day. I glanced at my watch—an indestructible habit—and figured that everyone was probably resting after a sleepless night. No one had tried to get in contact with me, which meant that the night raids had gone as good as expected. If so, I'd let them sleep while I went to the abandoned factory to train.
Losing Masks Page 25
