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Regenesis (Book 1): Impact

Page 33

by Pierce, Harrison


  “Time control, for instance.”

  “” Yong blurted out.

  “At this point I would hardly label anything as impossible, Yong.” Mizuno took a breath and tried to steer their conversation back on course. “This is taking far too long.”

  “Yeah, considering you haven’t even introduced Nick yet.”

  Nick looked at the chair that was empty next to him a moment before and saw that Strom had silently joined the group. He sat polishing a rather large onyx rifle and although he scared the life out of nearly everyone, only Kyle, David, Melanie, and Alisa were truly frightened of him.

  “Is there a reason he’s here?” Bruce asked Mizuno without looking away from Strom.

  Strom didn’t take his eyes off of his rifle.

  “Strom’s here to help train Nick,” Mizuno told him.

  “Who?” asked Alisa.

  “Nick Jacobs. The kid right next to Strom who hasn’t been introduced yet,” Mizuno told her.

  “” Yong asked with very little enthusiasm.

  Mizuno told them he was a resident in the area, only spoke English, and that his ability made him impervious to any form of projectile as well as allowed him to create firearms.

  “” Yong looked at Nick for the first time and asked him to demonstrate it.

  Nick reddened at the request. He didn’t want to and fortunately they’d wasted enough time so Mizuno cut their chatter and told Nick to show Yong later.

  “All you need to know is that Strom will work with Nick and so long as I don’t require him to aid our group in any other way none of you will see him from this point on.”

  “” David asked him while the two girls who surrounded him slowly eased back into his arms.

  Mizuno rubbed his temples and muttered, “If we do need Strom then it’ll be less of an impact on you all if he’s introduced as a possible character now rather than later on. In other words, if you’re all aware of him now it won’t be very shocking later on. Now,” he took a breath and looked at the group, “We need to talk about the actual purpose of this project.”

  “” Yong muttered.

  “Twelve days ago Nick, Melanie, and I met up in Washington DC and I happened upon one of the members of the Dáfù and managed to counter a pending terrorist attack,” he reported. “I managed to glean a brief list of pending attacks, though because their operation in DC was stifled a majority of those attacks have since been aborted.”

  “” asked Afifa.

  “” he told her, “

  “Is there another event that you plan on stopping?” Bruce asked. “Assuming the attacks start up again on the same route they were before.”

  Mizuno said there was one. “In two weeks there should be an attack on the Seattle Art Museum.”

  “What would they gain by attacking a museum in Seattle?” asked Mithra.

  “They wouldn’t gain anything,” Bruce answered. “The Dáfù never want anything in particular, other than creating disorder and chaos.”

  “That’s about as close of a reason as anyone can know,” Mizuno said. “However there is something worth targeting. Do you all remember the attack on the Louvre in twenty-twenty-three?”

  David nodded, “

  “Yes, among other items. However this time around it’s a series of Vincent Van Gogh’s paintings that will be destroyed if the scheduled attacks resume. The tour of these paintings will start in Seattle and travel across the States and through Europe for about a year. The Dáfù plans of destroying them in Seattle where the security will most likely be extremely limited.”

  “” David asked him.

  “On the Twenty-second of this month, which means we only have sixteen days to form a plan to counter the attack.”

  “Assuming it still occurs,” Kyle added.

  “Yes.”

  “What’s the plan then?” Bruce asked.

  “We’re going to infiltrate the museum and steal the paintings, then transport them to a secure place away from the building, apprehend or kill any and all Dáfù we encounter, and upon completion of the mission we disclose the location of the paintings to the curator of the museum.”

  “How are we supposed to do all of that?” Melanie asked him.

  “Alisa is going to slip into the museum and steal someone’s form of identification which we will use to replicate to grant us access to the building on the day of the event.”

  “” Yong asked him. “

  “Yes he could, but with all of the hoops he would have to jump through as well as keeping his presence within their system unknown and playing his own part in the operation would prove to be a bit excessive. And besides, this will be great practice for Alisa when it comes to any future operations.”

  “What’s next?”

  “On the day of the attack we’ll infiltrate the museum as well, though Kyle will disable all electronic forms of security and surveillance. On the first go through Yong, David, Jian, Mithra, Melanie, Alisa, and I will stage a heist with various firearms while Bruce and Long retrieve all of Van Gogh’s paintings and gather them into a small area for Afifa to transport out of the museum. Now, Afifa’s ability creates a massive surge of light when she uses it, which is where Mithra will come in. Mithra will blind everyone within the building before she transports our group out of the building.”

  “What about Nick?” Strom asked. He received some looks from some of the members of the group for his interference and nonchalant air as if he was a part of their team, though he hardly cared.

  “Nick will have a separate task. He’s going to distract the guy who runs the show along with his wife and daughter while we all perform the robbery-slash-counterattack.”

  “” David suggested. “

  Mizuno shook his head. “Nick is a local, which means that there’s a small chance that someone could identify him and cause strife in his personal life. And you already know the daughter, so that would jeopardize the situation.”

  “

  He nodded, “Lauren Facet.”

  “

  “Basically she is here with her parents because they hope she’ll become interested in becoming an art curator like her mother and father,” Mizuno told him. “The real reason she agreed to go along with them is because she could get into a more prestigious university after the experience of interning as an art curator. The next nine months will burden her, but she wants to get away from her family and exist on her own.” Mizuno looked at David and asked if he needed anymore answers.

  “” David continued, “

  Mizuno shook his head and told him it was coincidental, “I needed to ensure you didn’t get caught in the trap I set for your friend’s party as well as send you a subtle message that I would need to talk to you later. I also needed to scan Lauren to get a full account of her remembrance of Afifa’s appearance earlier that day to cross examine it with my notes and your memory of the event.”

  “

  Mizuno rolled his eyes and told David fate was a lie. Nick interjected and asked what he needed to do. “Simply keep Lauren and her family from making it to the museum. If they arrive, then David would be compro
mised, which we can’t have,” Mizuno explained. “And as much as I’d like to keep him out of the situation, his senses will be essential if and when the Dáfù attack.”

  Bruce cut in, “You mentioned something about retrieving the paintings as the first stage. What’s the second?”

  “Once we’ve completed the first part of the operation, you, Yong, David, and I will all return to fight off the Dáfù, assuming they arrive.”

  “” Yong asked. “

  Mizuno took a long breath and apologized to Bruce. “Basically we’re going to wear,” he searched for the appropriate word while Bruce only rubbed his eyes in anticipation of the answer, “Disguises, on the second run through.”

  “You’ve got to be joking,” Bruce muttered.

  “Unfortunately I’m not.” He retrieved a black mask, similar to the pearl Ghost mask Strom used. The mask Mizuno held was painted a flat black with a metallic green and purple Japanese Kanji painted over the right eye hole in the mask. “Melanie came up with the idea for team shirts a while back, which I rejected out of hand, but now the idea of uniforms isn’t as unbearable as it originally was, as they now serve a purpose.”

  Yong looked at the mask with so much envy Nick was surprised he hadn’t walked up to the front and taken it from Mizuno yet. “

  “Bulletproof vests, these masks which have transmitters embedded within them, gloves, weapons for anyone who wants or needs them…” Mizuno’s eyes flashed and afterward he rolled his eyes and tossed the mask he held at Yong, who caught it, laughed, and immediately put it on.

  “” Afifa asked.

  “It’s the Japanese Kanji for impact, which is what our group will be known as from this moment on, as I imagine you’re all as tired of calling the group by the alias of ‘the project’ as much as I am,” Mizuno said.

  “What do we need to do to be ready for this operation?” Mithra asked him.

  “Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays will be devoted to physical training and scenario run-throughs, on Tuesday we’ll tour the museum to gain a better understanding of the layout of the building which will also allow Alisa to steal the needed items, and Fridays and Sundays will be your days off, though I might ask a few of you to assist me on a separate matter between Nick and myself.”

  “” asked Yong from behind his mask.

  Mizuno ignored him and told them they were all free to enjoy the weekend but should expect to be ready to work on Monday. With their meeting complete, he told them they could leave.

  -- -- --

  Mizuno, Nick, and Strom waited until the rest of the group was gone to discuss Nick’s training and role with the group. “First of all, thanks again for agreeing to help train him,” Mizuno started.

  Strom said it was nothing. “He needs it. I only had a few days to actually teach him how to manifest his ability properly, which left little time for him to actually practice.”

  “Is he any good yet?”

  Strom shrugged, “He could hit a stationary target as long as nothing distracted him.”

  “Then no.”

  Nick sat with the two men as they talked plainly before him and about him. He didn’t feel like talking to them though, as he knew his opinion didn’t really matter.

  “How many weapons can you create Nick?”

  He never really kept track but told Mizuno he guessed it was close to a dozen.

  Mizuno frowned, “We’ll have to work on that as well.” His gaze was at the floor the whole time he talked with them. Strom noticed but didn’t think to ask, while Nick saw Mizuno and wondered what he thought of, but still didn’t say a word.

  Strom had all of his weapons in his duffel bag, along with his copy of The Catcher in the Rye, which Nick could see was in one of the front pockets of the bag. He finally asked Mizuno, “What’s on your mind?”

  Mizuno didn’t look up, but said, “The Dáfù shouldn’t attack Seattle as they planned.”

  “Why not?”

  “Their attack in DC was stopped, which should spawn debates as to how I could do that, considering Strom and I are the only ones who have ever countered Dáfù attacks.”

  “Which reminds me to ask you how the hell you knew they were going to go after President Monroe in the first place?” Strom asked.

  Mizuno didn’t answer that question. “I didn’t know whether the attack at DC was scheduled after the attack on the President’s life or not. If it was then that means the Seattle attack should happen, along with the other two scheduled attacks that were planned to happen between now and the attack at the Seattle Art Museum.”

  “So what does it mean if it does happen?”

  He sighed and admitted that he wasn’t sure. “It could mean anything of a thousand possibilities, including one where they’re aware of the existence of people who can actually hinder them and they don’t care. There is one other thing that worries me though; if they do attack as scheduled and we do counter them, then they’ll become aware of the fact that I know their plans. From there what they do would define where we stand against them.”

  “So it’s all in the air right now?”

  He only nodded. “Nick,” Mizuno finally looked at him, “Just worry about training with Strom for now. All of this is something I need to calculate; please focus on what Strom can teach you.”

  Mizuno asked Strom to take Nick home using the car he’d stolen, though Strom told him he’d brought his own ride. Mizuno slowly started off into the shadows of the building while he removed his small notepad from his jacket along with a pen. Nick watched him disappear and asked Strom if he knew what Mizuno wrote in his little book. Strom only said he didn’t and led the way out.

  ---*---

  Chapter 15

  September 7th, 2029

  9:31 AM

  Tokyo, Japan

  Drake had only been in jail once, though he wasn’t detained. He was in the sixth grade when his class toured the Bothell Police Station. His class got to see the bulletproof glass that separated the secretaries from the outside, they saw the holding cells deep inside the building (and were introduced to a character Drake didn’t realize for years was a police officer disguised as a drunkard to tell the kids to stay out of trouble), and his class even had their fingerprints taken and recorded.

  Japanese prisons weren’t as lighthearted as it was in Bothell Washington. From what little he’d seen he could tell the halls, rooms, and offices were spotless. The small cell he was kept in when they weren’t interrogating him only had a chair and a small futon for a bed, which he wasn’t allowed to even touch unless told to sleep.

  His situation wasn’t what he dwelt on though, as he needed to figure out who set him up and if his father was truly dead. It’d been nearly three days since he stepped off the plane and faced his arrest. As per Japanese penal code, he hadn’t been allowed to call anyone or even get himself a lawyer, (though he only knew of a few lawyers and they were all in America and completely inaccessible).

  His windowless door opened outward and two detectives he’d spoken to earlier joined him. Drake recalled their names were Amano and Obata. Obata carried a thin laptop with him, though it was closed and he couldn’t see what was on the screen.

  Detective Amano began by asking him in English, “Do you want to start by telling us what your ability is?”

  Drake shook his head. “I don’t have any power, so I can’t admit anything.”

  Detective Obata asked Drake to stop lying. “We’re aware of the fact that the sudden appearance of abilities is foreign to everyone, however we here in Japan have already discovered a handful of traits that are found in each and every individual who bears an ability.”

  “Like what?”

  “The first is an ailment of some sort,” Amano told him. “It can range from epilepsy or insomnia to cancer or dyslexia, so long as the ailment
wasn’t self-induced.”

  “Though that last part is only speculation,” Obata told him. “We haven’t found anyone who has lung cancer from smoking and has an ability and nothing else wrong with them.”

  “How many people have you found?”

  Amano chose not to answer him. “The second trait is much simpler to identify,” he told Drake. “It has to do with your thumbprints.”

  “They’re symmetrical,” Obata finished. “When someone gains an ability their left thumbprint becomes a mirror of their right thumbprint.”

  Drake looked at his own thumbs and realized that they were right. He never noticed it but saw the symmetry. He confessed again that he didn’t know what power he could possess. “I honestly didn’t know about this until today.”

  Amano only nodded. He asked Detective Obata to show him the document on the laptop. It was Drake’s fingerprints from his sixth grade field trip. Upon inspection of his thumbprints he found them to have been symmetrical since that age.

  “Apparently you’ve had these abilities for quite some time Mister Winchester.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “You’re still claiming ignorance?” Obata scoffed. The detective closed the document and showed Drake security footage from the night his father was killed.

  The security footage showed Drake in his father’s office in Seattle at eight in the evening on the fifth of the month. It wasn’t really him though, as Drake was on a plane on his way to Japan when the video was recorded. Drake’s father walked into the room and stopped when he saw his son in his chair behind his desk.

  “Drake?” his father asked. “What are you doing here?”

  The imposter shrugged and told Drake’s father that he was on the no fly list. “I tried to board, bags, ticket, passport and all, and they only told me I couldn’t go because I was on the no fly list.”

  Tony examined the charlatan and shook his head. “You’re not my son.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Drake would have called me from the airport if he couldn’t make the flight.”

  “My phone died.”

  “You’re lying,” Tony told the fake. “Who are you?”

 

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