Kusanagi

by Clem Chambers

  A board slid out from between the shelf and the cage bars and a head poked up awkwardly from the gap. ‘This is a freakin’ hard manoeuvre,’ said Jane, her hands appearing next. She began to squeeze her body through the small space. ‘This is way tight,’ she complained. ‘That’s better,’ she reported, as she worked her butt out. ‘The cage key is in the guy’s cufflinks. Take them off and wave them over the lock.’

  Jim bent down and took them out of Kim’s shirt sleeves. He ran to the cage and waved the cufflinks over the lock. There was a clank. Jane pushed the door open. ‘Didn’t expect to see you,’ she said, smiling.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Jim.

  Jane took a cufflink and walked over to Kim. She pulled him to his feet. ‘Come with me,’ she said, dragging him to the gorilla cage.

  ‘We might need him,’ said Jim.

  ‘No deal,’ said Jane, Kim staggering behind.

  The monkeys in the cage beyond were screeching at the tops of their voices and the birds further back were hooting and squawking in alarm.

  ‘Please don’t,’ he begged.

  She unlocked the gorilla cage and slung Kim in. He cried out as he hit the floor. ‘No,’ he screamed, scrambling up as the cage slammed shut. The gorilla ambled over to him on its knuckles, took him by the arm and pulled him into its lap. It wrapped its arms around him, crushing him. Kim cried out as he felt a rib crack under the pressure of the embrace.

  ‘Sorry I can’t take you with me,’ said Jane, pouting at the gorilla. She turned to Jim and the SEALs. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  Reece threw Jane his pistol and took out the compact machine gun from his case. ‘Hi, Professor,’ she said, as they trotted to the lift.

  ‘Hi, Jane-san,’ said Akira.

  Jim swiped the cufflinks on the lift call panel and the doors opened. The cries of the animals were deafening. The lift descended.

  When the doors opened again, men with stun batons were waiting for them. The security guards reeled back at the sight of a lift full of heavily-armed men, machine guns pointing at them. They backed away.

  The SEALs exited the lift in tight formation.

  The main lift bank was across the atrium. A man with a pistol stepped out of a doorway and aimed. Brandon cut him down with a burst of fire. The men with batons turned to run. Jane was paying one particular attention. She jumped forwards and tripped him as he turned to escape, then wrenched the stun gun from his hand. ‘I remember you,’ she said.

  She stuck the baton between his legs and pressed the switch. He let out a howl and spun around onto his back. She didn’t know whether he was looking at her consciously or was out cold, but she pressed the button again anyway. A spasm twisted and shook his body. She straightened. ‘Let’s go.’

  Reece was already heading for the main lift.

  ‘Was that necessary?’ asked Jim, as he passed her.

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘but it felt good.’

  A lift door opened and they bundled in. A secretary tumbled out, screaming.

  They took up a fire formation in the lift as they waited for the door to close. The SEALs didn’t press the door close button because it never worked in the US. Akira pressed it and the doors shut immediately.

  The express lift would take them down fifty eight floors in two minutes. Then all they had to do was make a fifty-metre dash outside to freedom.

  The lift was slowing. It was stopping at the fifty second floor.

  They braced to open fire.

  The doors opened and they saw a group of men with their backs to them, bowing. Another group of men and women were bowing to them in farewell. They turned to the lift and the men with machine guns. They leapt back and stared agog, frozen to the spot. The lift door closed.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ muttered Jim. It was stopping at the fiftieth floor. They braced themselves. The secretaries outside the lift shrieked and one threw her Starbucks into the air, showering the others with latte. They fled.

  ‘Stay focused,’ said Reece, as the lift slowed to the fortieth floor. As the door opened Brandon, who was crouching, fired through the gap. The other SEALs opened up as the doors slid open. They burst out into the corridor over the two felled armed guards. Reece and Casey took the hallway beyond. ‘Clear,’ they shouted, turning and running back.

  The doors closed again.

  The lift was picking up speed. ‘Maybe this time it’ll go the whole way down,’ said Brandon.

  Jim looked at the TV screen above the doors. It was showing the financial news. The yen was rallying.

  The lift started to slow. ‘Here we go,’ said Reece.

  Jim kissed Jane.

  The doors started to open. Brandon was straining to see any movement and as soon as the gap was wide enough he rolled through it. They piled out, scanning around them.

  ‘Clear,’ shouted Reece. They ran in formation for the escalator that would take them down to the main lobby and entrance.

  Two security guards were looking up at them. They were armed but made no attempt to pull their guns.

  The team raced down the escalators. Then it was only twenty metres to the main doors. Brandon and Danny took position at the bottom of the moving stairway and immediately there was a burst of gunfire from behind. The plate-glass window near the entrance shattered and glass showered to the floor.

  The SEALs opened up against the pistol fire with a crackle of machine gun. The fat old security guards threw themselves down and held out their arms in blind surrender to whoever was firing. Reece and Jane shot out more windows directly ahead, opening up an escape route only metres away.

  ‘Go!’ shouted Casey. They ran as he and Danny fired into the space behind the escalators where the attack had originated. There was no returning fire. Casey and Danny were running backwards, covering the rest of the team.

  ‘Where is Yamamoto?’ shouted Jim, hurdling through a shattered window and skidding down a polished granite sill.

  ‘There!’ yelled Akira.

  Jim looked across the plaza. Six off-road bikes were parked behind a black Harley, all with helmeted riders, engines running.

  They sprinted to the bikers who were revving their engines. Jim jumped onto the pillion of a bike and grabbed the rider around the waist. It was a woman. Fuck me, he had just enough time to think, as the bike lunged forwards from the kerb. She had a red and yellow tattoo on her neck, partly covered with strands of hair that had fallen out of her helmet. He closed his eyes in terror as the bike hurtled recklessly through the traffic. Whose idea was it to hire these maniacs to get them away?

  Jane jumped on the back of the Harley. She wondered who the old guy in the half helmet was. ‘Nice bike,’ she said.

  ‘Domo.’ He coaxed the bike into roaring off sedately.

  ‘You again,’ said Stafford, as he opened the door to Smith.

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  ‘Do come in. Are you planning to become a permanent fixture?’

  ‘That’s not a bad idea,’ said Smith. ‘Certainly beats my little pad in Brixton.’

  ‘Very good,’ said Stafford. ‘And what delights are we to expect tonight?’

  ‘The usual,’ said Smith. ‘A Triad raid, perhaps, or maybe a North Korean blitzkrieg – possibly, even, another ninja onslaught.’

  ‘Jolly good.’ Stafford closed the door. ‘And will you be dining?’

  ‘I’ve eaten,’ said Smith, ‘though a plate of baked beans on toast won’t come amiss later.’

  ‘I’m sure we can stretch to that.’

  ‘I’ll help with the washing up,’ said Smith.

  ‘That won’t be necessary. Do you have laundry?’

  ‘I’ve got that covered, Bertie.’

  ‘I really do wish you wouldn’t call me that.’

  ‘Sorry, Stafford, I keep forgetting.’

  ‘That’s much better.’

  61

  Jim felt uncomfortably powerless on the back of the bike as it wove in and out of the traffic. It was as if the riders had entered thei
r own private race and were cutting through the traffic to win a bet. There didn’t seem to be anyone in pursuit.

  What was the point of attracting attention to yourself once you had got a certain distance away? Holding on to the rider with one hand while clutching a heavy briefcase with the other was tough physical exercise, which he was finding hard to manage. He thought about jumping off at a red light but it was never clear whether a red light was going to be obeyed or not.

  Jim had no idea where they were or where they were going but he was hoping devoutly that the trip would end soon.

  The biker’s jacket said ‘Happy Foxes’ and sported a cheeky babyish face of a manga fox grinning mischievously. The bike reared up on its forks and he gripped the girl’s midriff with all his might. If he came off the back his brains would splatter over the pristine Tokyo tarmac.

  Jane was admiring the Tokyo landscape as it floated by. The friendly old guy had given her a half helmet. She sat back in the seat, her feet up on the fold out rests, one hand on the grip. It was good to be free. The other bikes were long gone.

  She hadn’t expected to see Jim with a bunch of SEALs or, for that matter, the professor. It felt strange to be rescued. She considered herself as always out on her own. It didn’t matter if she was part of a team, or even an army: she was no one’s responsibility but her own.

  Jim was the guy with everything and he was stupid to stick his neck out for her. If anyone was going to spring themselves from a fix like that, it was her. Jim could have easily got them all killed. She realised it was dumb for her to be angry with him. He hadn’t complained when she had fished him out of the Congo jungle, so why should she be angry with him for getting her out of trouble? Yet she was and that was that.

  They were riding beside the moat of the palace. It was an enormous entrenchment and she marvelled at it as they rolled by. She grinned to herself as the wind blew on her face. The sky was blue: it was a perfect day in Japan.

  Yamamoto read the sign as they passed it: ‘One person killed on the road today in Tokyo.’ He wondered how many people would be born in Tokyo that day, how many boys would kiss a girl for the first time, how many would fall in love. They should build a sign that told everyone that too.

  Jim jumped off the bike the moment it screeched to a halt at the underground entrance to Yamamoto Towers. His body was trembling and his feet were happy to be on the ground. The rider pulled off her helmet. She was a tall, beautiful woman, whose long black hair fell onto her delicate leather padded shoulders. ‘Couldn’t you have gone any faster?’ he exclaimed. He put the briefcase down and forced a smile. ‘You scared the shit out of me.’

  The girl laughed. ‘You’re funny,’ she said, and looked away from him as the other bikes drew up.

  The last of the Happy Foxes came down the ramp with Danny. ‘Woo hoo,’ he yelled.

  Brandon’s biker had somehow got onto his shoulders. She was waving her arms around and shouting.

  Where the fuck is Yamamoto? Jim wondered.

  Akira closed his eyes and opened them again. His rider was still looking at him through her visor. She took her helmet off. She had red hair, big eyes and a long, thin face. She was a beauty. ‘Fox with five tails,’ she said, cocking her head. ‘Your hair is turning white.’

  ‘Turning white?’

  She touched his head with her slender fingers and ruffled his hair. ‘Yes, the roots of your hair have turned white as snow.’ She pointed at her wing mirrors. ‘See?’ He bent down to peer at himself. Sure enough, the first millimetre of his jet black hair was white. The stress had turned him into an old man.

  He straightened as he heard the engine of the Harley fill the underground space. ‘Quickly,’ he said. ‘You must take me to my father.’

  ‘Jump on, Kitsune.’

  ‘Kitsune?’ he asked. ‘Me?’ He clambered on.

  ‘Never hurt me,’ she said, peeping at him over her shoulder.

  ‘I will never hurt you,’ he said. ‘Never go away.’

  She set off with a jump and a high toned clatter.

  ‘Thank fuck for that,’ exclaimed, Jim striding over to the SEALs and their riders, who whooped and hollered as Yamamoto and Jane drove down the ramp. The engine of the Harley filled the cavern with its roar. ‘Where the hell is the professor going?’ shouted Jim, waving his arms at the bike as it passed.

  Jane had jumped off the Harley and was high fiving the SEALs.

  ‘I was wondering where you’d got to,’ he said to her as she clapped with Reece.

  ‘Traffic.’ She offered Jim her palm.

  Jim fancied a kiss, but he high fived her clumsily and everyone clapped.

  She turned back to the SEALs. ‘Guys, we’ve got to get straight to the embassy.’

  ‘What?’ protested Jim.

  ‘Jim, we’ve just been in a first class diplomatic incident. We’ve got to get onto US soil right away.’

  He took her by the waist and kissed her. She didn’t resist, but neither did she reciprocate much. He let her go. ‘Later,’ she said giving him a look. ‘American Embassy,’ she told her rider.

  Jim’s biker had obviously understood the conversation because she shouted something to them all. They saddled up and, in a deafening storm of engine noise, took off.

  The sound of the engines died away, leaving behind nothing but the ambient hum of the equipment that pulsed and rattled in the depths of the building. His rider was standing by her bike, sucking a mint. ‘What’s your name?’ he asked her.

  ‘Kuda.’

  ‘Hi, Kuda,’ he said. ‘Seems we’re the only ones left.’

  ‘Want to play?’ she said.

  Jim looked twice at the willowy girl in metal encrusted knee high boots with black and red leathers. She was holding a Sony PSP in her hand. He realised his pistol was not on safety. He took it from his pocket, flipped the catch and put it back.

  Kuda didn’t blink.

  ‘Let’s go inside.’ He smiled at her. ‘What games you got?’

  ‘Final Fantasy XX, Bubble Trouble Extreme Five.’

  ‘Great!’

  ‘We could go to Akiharbara and shoot zombies.’ She held up her helmet as if to put it on.

  ‘Got one of those for me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Let’s go, then.’

  The last of the creatures were coming at them. Kuda was wielding her pump action shotgun with precision and expertise. Jim had caught on slowly and finally got up to speed in the time it had taken to pump ten thousand yen into the machine.

  The robot dragon human combo super-baddie was suddenly on the game screen. He was saying something in Japanese that was clearly a final challenge. He was carrying some limp girl in his gigantic talons. ‘Shoot at his middle eye when it opens,’ said Kuda, blasting at the floating lightning bolts that cascaded towards them.

  The eye opened. Jim shot and missed. Kuda shot and the monster shook backwards. A small amount of energy left its power bar.

  Jim’s phone rang. ‘Bugger,’ he muttered, putting the red plastic shotgun into its holster. He fed the machine some more hundred yen coins.

  ‘I’ve got this,’ said Kuda, blasting away.

  Jim answered the sat phone.

  ‘Are you OK, Evans-san?’ said a worried Akira.

  He must be able to hear the gunfire down the phone, Jim thought. ‘Yeah,’ he said.

  ‘The guns?’

  ‘Just zombies. I’m in an arcade.’

  ‘Yamamoto-san and I were concerned. Are you returning?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Jim, ‘just keeping myself busy.’

  ‘So, so, so,’ said Akira, ‘when?’

  ‘As soon as I’ve killed the superboss.’

  ‘Gambatte, Kudasi.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Jim, wondering what it meant. He hung up and picked up his gun. The eye of the superboss opened. He shot. He missed.

  The restaurant’s wooden door slid open. Jim stood outside as Yamamoto, Akira and the Happy Foxes filed in. Kuda stayed with him. There
was a chorus of shouting from within as the staff greeted the party in a ritualistic way.

  ‘We’re leaving in the morning, Stafford,’ said Jim. ‘Everything’s fine here. You?’

  ‘Pacific.’

  Jim thought for a moment. ‘Is that a code word?’

  ‘Calm,’ said Stafford.

  ‘Right,’ said Jim. ‘It’s not been calm here but we’re cool now.’

  ‘What is the plan?’

  ‘Can’t say on the phone,’ said Jim. ‘But there is one and it’s short and sweet.’

  ‘Good,’ said Stafford. ‘Because Smith seems intent on camping here until he gets an explanation.’ He threw a glance at Smith, who was grinning laconically at him. ‘The blasted man has installed a television in the lounge.’

  ‘Say hi to him from me,’ said Jim, smiling, one finger in his other ear to cut out the noise coming from the restaurant. ‘Any messages?’

  ‘No, sir,’ said Stafford.

  ‘Nothing from Jane?’

  ‘I can check your email again if you wish.’

  Jim sighed. ‘No, that’s OK.’

  62

  Jim had drunk quite a lot of cold sake out of the square wooden box in front of him. He had also eaten quite a few odd things that the professor had explained to him. The chefs sat on a raised dais with charcoal fires, meat and vegetables in front of them. The diners sat around them like an audience and picked out things to eat from the display.

  Yamamoto and Akira were choosing the dishes and the waiters were constantly shouting orders to punctuate the proceedings. It was an enjoyable if rather confusing spectacle.

  Jim had started off with a sheet of roasted baby fish and a couple of oddly-shaped mushrooms. That was followed by a red fish on a skewer that, even dead, looked pretty surprised. Next up was a plate of weird tasting grilled pine nuts, which had the distinct but not unpleasant flavour of floor polish. They went down great with the sake.

  The professor and his Happy Fox seemed to have hit it off rather well.

  ‘Where did you disappear off to?’ Jim asked Akira, as the chef handed them a selection of what looked like potatoes on the end of a long wooden paddle.