Darkest Before The Dawn (The Second Dark Ages Book 3)

by Michael Anderle

  Kuro suddenly saw the whites of Riku’s eyes in the half-light. “But sir,” Riku protested, “I didn’t do it for the money.”

  Kuro bowed his head briefly. “Yes, but you must understand that by taking the money we indemnify ourselves. You will be more careful about who you inform of our transaction.”

  Riku’s eyes looked pained. “I would never betray you. We are fighting for the cause.”

  Kuro had slipped the drive into his pocket and now studied the young ninja’s face with compassion. “I believe that,” he confirmed, “but still, we do business this way to ensure long-term loyalty.”

  Riku accepted the explanation, knowing that he had no choice in the matter. “I understand. Sir, there is one more thing,” he added quickly.

  “What is that?”

  “It’s Akari,” Riku continued. He paused briefly, the words catching in his throat. “She didn’t make it.”

  Kuro’s facial expression shifted to surprise, followed by sorrow. Then it returned to his polite expressionless default. “I’m sorry to hear this. I know you and she shared a bond of purpose.”

  Riku nodded, his eyes glistening with a tear. “Would you…”

  “Yes, I’ll let him know,” Kuro confirmed. “Once again, my sympathies.”

  Riku bowed deeply before taking his leave of his master. He knew the drill. He was to remain out of sight for several more minutes and then exit via a route other than the alley’s entrance—he had a fire escape already picked out that would take him to the roof. He blended into the shadows and listened as his master’s footsteps retraced their path out of the alley the same way he had just walked in.

  Riku stood alone in the darkness next to the pungent odor of the dumpster he had concealed himself behind.

  He allowed his tears to fall, finally permitting himself to mourn the loss of his friends.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Ōyama Hospital, Japan, Near Kurobe Dam

  Mark and Jacqueline sat in the waiting room talking in whispers and feeling very out of place.

  Jacqueline’s tone was one he recognized from his sister—gossip. “From what Akari was saying, they were part of some kind of cult.”

  Mark’s eyebrows sprang to the top of his head. “She called it a cult?” He was partly amused by the recounting but was careful not to let on. He didn’t want to have to explain to Jacqueline how cute she could be when she was doing normal girl stuff like gossiping.

  Jacqueline tilted her head to one side. “No,” she conceded slowly, “but she sounded like she’d had her brain scrambled by someone. She was spouting all kinds of mumbo-jumbo.”

  “Hmm,” Mark said, contemplatively stroking his chin with his finger. “So what does this mean?”

  Jacqueline pursed her lips and settled back in the waiting room chair. “It means that Akari and Riku weren’t working alone. It also means that whoever these people are, they now have the locations.”

  Mark’s eyes took on a distant look. “Yes, but so do we.”

  Jacqueline nudged his arm, pulling him back to the present moment. “What are you thinking?”

  Mark leaned forward over his knees, resting his arms on his legs. “I’m thinking that as soon as Yuko and Eve get in touch we should head to China asap.”

  “Agreed,” Jacqueline said, watching the flow of scrubs-clad medical people move in and out of the double doors at the end of the waiting room area. “And I think there is more we need to understand about this Sacred Clan and why the Chinese want to hold onto their ship pieces.”

  She paused. “I wonder if Michael will come…”

  Mark looked at her, twisting awkwardly to see her face. “Why?” he asked, a little confused. “Wouldn’t that be less physical diplomacy for us?”

  “True,” Jacqueline conceded. She quickly lowered her voice before continuing the conversation, remembering they were in a place of healing. “Not that we’ve been doing too much physical diplomacy since we’ve been here, all things being equal.”

  She watched another doctor deposit a chart at reception and then take off again. “I feel better when he is within striking distance. That way, when he goes and gets himself killed, I’ll be close enough to kill him all over again.”

  Jacqueline’s tone was playful on the face of it, but Mark could see that her emotions ran deep. He didn’t have any words for her, at least not words that would help the situation. He sat up and slung his arm around her as they waited in the very quiet room.

  Eventually, the doctor who had admitted Ichika came back and the pair sprang to their feet. Having changed out of the wetsuits into the overalls they had packed in the Pod’s storage compartment, they were looking semi-presentable, if a little out of context.

  “How is she?” Jacqueline blurted as he approached them.

  Dr. Goto bowed to them briefly before delivering his diagnosis. “She’ll be fine. She lost a lot of blood, and we have her on a transfusion. We’ll need to keep her on fluids for a little while too. The leg is already partially healed,” he added, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “I suspect this is because one of you lent her some non-conventional assistance?” He gave them a knowing look.

  Mark looked sheepish. Jacqueline looked concerned. “You mean…you know?”

  Dr. Goto smiled and nodded. “Diplomat Yuko sends you to my hospital and tells you to ask for me personally. One can only suspect.”

  Jacqueline caught a little glimmer in his eye. “You’re not…”

  Dr. Goto chuckled. “Oh goodness, no, although if I had been through what your friend had been through, I would be very grateful to have friends like you to heal my injuries.”

  Mark sighed and scratched the back of his head. “I’m afraid we were too concerned about overdoing it and, you know—transforming her. We maybe didn’t give her enough.”

  The doctor nodded, his face a little more serious. “I think she is glad to be alive, although they have very strict rules in her discipline. She will be able to return to her family with her secret intact. No one will suspect that she was ever healed. The bullet wound will leave a scar and a limp.”

  Jacqueline frowned. “What do you mean, ‘strict rules?’”

  Dr. Goto moved them away from the reception desk and prying ears. “Yes. They’re not to use substances like vampire blood or artificial healing agents,” he explained. “Anyone found to have used them normally ends up being exiled. And as you know, these disciplines are like family.” He shook his head. “Terrible business really,” he confessed, sadness tainting his eyes.

  Jacqueline’s eyes flared yellow. “You mean she might be exiled if anyone finds out we healed her?”

  Dr. Goto nodded.

  Jacqueline stepped back and looked around, frustrated, before snapping her attention back to Mark. “Should have gone the whole way and transformed her!”

  Mark lowered his eyes.

  Dr. Goto put his hands out, palms flat, trying to contain the situation. “No, no—you don’t understand. That would be like death to them. They have very strict beliefs. Ichika herself would likely not want to live like that,” he explained, his voice a little agitated, willing Jacqueline to comprehend.

  Jacqueline calmed a little. “Really?”

  The doctor nodded again.

  Jacqueline sighed, still unsatisfied. “Well, I guess there’s nothing we can do then.”

  “May we see her?” Mark asked calmly, trying to smooth things over.

  Dr. Goto nodded. “Of course. We’ll need her to stay overnight, but by tomorrow afternoon she’ll be ready to leave.” He motioned in the direction of the corridor. “Room 211.”

  Jacqueline and Mark thanked the doctor and headed toward Ichika’s room, their outside boots squeaking conspicuously and drawing curious looks from the dainty, polite nurses and medical personnel walking around in their covered slippers.

  —

  Mark tapped on the door and then pushed it open to reveal a tiny-looking Ichika, who was dwarfed by the hospital bed she was
ensconced in.

  Jacqueline followed him into the room, her eyes conveying sympathy.

  Ichika smiled weakly as they stepped inside and closed the door behind them. “Don’t look at me like that,” she said to Jacqueline, still smiling.

  Jacqueline looked taken aback. “Like what?”

  Ichika grinned. “Like I’m some delicate little thing who needs taking care of. I’m a warrior! I knew what I was getting into.”

  Jacqueline couldn’t help but smile at her spirit. She adjusted her attitude to match as she approached the girl’s bedside and perched on the bed next to her. She held her hand. “I know that, but I’m still sorry this happened to you.” She paused, lowering her eyes to their hands. “If there was anything I could have done—”

  Ichika clamped her other hand on top of the hands that held each other. “You did the right thing. I couldn’t have asked for a more dedicated and brave team on that mission.”

  She smiled at Mark, who had perched on the other side of her bed, pulling the blanket a little.

  “Both of you,” she added sincerely. “Truly. I’m so grateful for what you did to keep me alive and get me out of there. You risked your own lives.”

  Mark nodded at her leg. “So you’re all healed up?”

  Ichika tilted her head from side to side. “The doctor said I will recover a little more with time, but there will need to be lots of rehabilitation and it will never be as strong as my other leg.” She lowered her eyes, her voice softer now. “Sucks for martial arts and future adventures.”

  Jacqueline had already started tearing up. “I know. It sounds like it wasn’t enough—”

  “Shhh…” Ichika told her sternly. “This has worked out well. This way I get to return to my grandfather and my training, and I get to live. If I had gone back changed…”

  Jacqueline nodded, thinking of how unfair people’s prejudices made everything. A tear escaped from her eye. “I know. The doctor explained to us.”

  “Yes,” Ichika continued, her eyes looking brighter now, “but did he explain to you about the power of the mind?”

  Jacqueline looked at her, sadness giving way to curiosity. “How do you mean?” she asked, glancing at Mark to see if he understood.

  Mark frowned. “You’re going to think your way healthy?”

  Ichika was wearing a fully confident smile now. “Yes. With Grandfather’s help, I know I can.”

  They talked a little more before Jacqueline moved the conversation to tomorrow’s itinerary. “Right, so we’ll be taking you back to your grandfather then?”

  “Yes,” Ichika confirmed. “As much as I’d love to continue this journey with you, I think in my current state I’d be more of a hindrance than a help.”

  Mark pulled out his wrist again. “Well, unless you just want to bite the bullet, so to speak, and join us permanently.” His voice was teasing, but for a moment Jacqueline could have sworn she saw Ichika thinking about it.

  A split second later Ichika laughed and slapped Mark’s exposed wrist playfully. “Thanks,” she said, “but my place is with my grandfather. And our mission.”

  The three shared a few more laughs before the nurse came in to usher Jacqueline and Mark out of the room. They made their farewells and returned to the guest house that Eve had booked them into, promising to return for Ichika tomorrow to take her home.

  And help her break the news of the recent events to her grandfather and sensei.

  Kuro’s Loft, Somewhere in Tokyo

  Raiden jumped to his feet as soon as he heard the footsteps outside the door. “He’s back,” he announced to an almost disinterested Orochi.

  Orochi muttered something inaudible, his eyes never leaving his papers.

  Kuro entered the room, quietly closing the door behind him and securing the two locks. He turned to Raiden, his face unreadable.

  “Well?” Raiden prompted.

  Kuro’s face broke into a smile. “I’ve got it!”

  Orochi jumped to his feet and made his way across the large open-plan apartment they used as a lair. Raiden, bursting with excitement, couldn’t resist throwing his arms around Kuro. Kuro stiffened and stepped back after a moment, shrugging Raiden off.

  Raiden looked embarrassed. “I just… It’s just so exciting.”

  Kuro raised one eyebrow at him. “Yes. I see that your time with the younger generation has made you… modern…in your reactions.”

  Raiden felt sure the use of the word “modern” was an insult. He immediately calmed himself and moved over to his computer terminal.

  Kuro shoved his hand into his pocket and held up the dongle for the two men to behold.

  Orochi displayed a rare expression that resembled victory. “This is excellent indeed!”

  Kuro smiled and looked at his old adversary and new ally. “Twenty years,” he said softly.

  Orochi nodded. “Twenty years trying to find someone who could retrieve that data, and finally we have it!”

  The two men shared a moment of silence and appreciation as Raiden unceremoniously swooped in and took possession of the antiquated storage device. He carried it over to the old computer they had been working on for the last several months and got straight to work.

  “Now that we have the map,” he muttered partly to himself, “we have a way forward.”

  Orochi was the first to break the moment of celebration. “Well, if your goons hadn’t been so boneheaded about wanting that data destroyed in the first place, we could have had this long ago.”

  Raiden shook his head. “Look, it was a different time. We can’t keep reliving the past. The government had it coming.”

  Orochi started to say something about never getting into business with a former hacker or anarchist, but Kuro hushed him and pulled him over to the sofa on the other side of the room.

  “Orochi,” he said solemnly, “there is something you need to know.”

  Orochi looked up at Kuro, trying to understand the sudden change in mood at a time of such a breakthrough.

  “It’s Akari,” he explained. “She didn’t make it.”

  Orochi’s brow creased and lifted in an extreme expression of sorrow. Kuro saw Orochi’s body visibly crumple under the news. He helped the middle-aged man to sit.

  Orochi recovered his facial expression rapidly, returning a blank polite look now. Kuro could sense the sadness in his colleague’s chest, though. “I’m so sorry,” he continued. “I just learned from her colleague, who delivered this to us.”

  He paused. The yellow from the artificial lights made it impossible to see into the blackness beyond the windows, but Orochi’s glance was drawn there as if hoping for her to appear.

  “She lived and died for something she believed in,” Kuro added softly. “She died a good death.”

  Orochi nodded. “A good death is all we can hope for,” he agreed in the tone of one wise to the doom of all life.

  The two men sat there for several minutes sharing the silence, but then Orochi got up without another word, bowed absently to his business associate, and picked up the coat he had dropped on the arm of the sofa.

  He crossed the floor of the room and left via the front door.

  Raiden was surprised to see him leaving when they were on the brink of a revelation. He turned to his screen and continued to fiddle with the setup. Kuro crossed the big open room to join him, looking over his shoulder.

  Raiden’s thoughts were still on the project. “You know, looking at this, we couldn’t have extracted this data without that AI’s capabilities. It would have taken a dozen of me several decades to come even close with those servers,” he explained, impressed by what he saw on the screen already.

  Kuro didn’t respond.

  Raiden paused. “Where did Orochi go?”

  Kuro sighed. “The bar downstairs, I suspect,” he told the former government whiz kid-turned-anarchist.

  Raiden frowned, not taking his eyes from the code that flickered across his antique screen. “Why?”

&nbs
p; Kuro’s voice was quiet when he answered. “I just had to tell him his girlfriend was killed acquiring this data for us.”

  There was a pause between the two men.

  Finally, Raiden responded as empathetically as he could. “That bites.”

  Kuro agreed, placing his hand gently on the back of Raiden’s wooden chair. “It does. How long until we have the map?”

  Raiden shrugged. “Not long. We should also keep tabs on which site they hit first.”

  “Ok,” agreed Kuro. “Keep me posted.” Still wearing his coat, he headed over to the door and opened it.

  Raiden’s eyes finally left his screen. “Where are you going?” he asked, surprised.

  “To console an old friend,” Kuro responded, stepping out the door and closing it gently behind him.

  Saint-Genis-Pouilly, France

  “You are going to fail, William,” A new voice interrupted William’s thoughts. “The ArchAngel is not going to die in this trap.”

  “Ahhh, is this Akio?” William said to the speaker. “Even if he isn’t dead, I don’t think even the vaunted Michael is going to be the same man as the one who had the energies of the universe trying to rip him apart. I will be surprised if he can still tie his shoes.”

  “You might be surprised by just how much pain the Dark Messiah has been through,” Akio replied. “Even a nuclear bomb was insufficient to kill him.”

  “Bah!” William snorted. “I’m sure it wasn’t a real bomb, or even he would not be here.” William looked at the pipes. “Well, not exactly here, more like there, there, and over there. Hopefully soon, I’ll have him spread apart around a …”

  The lights flickered and died. William’s eyes glowed in the darkness when the temporary lights came on. His voice was calm, deadly. “You despicable dilettantes!” He gave another scream and looked down at his tablet, but it still didn’t show him the flag that would confirm he had killed Michael.

  He flung the tablet across the room. “I will not forget, nor will I forgive you, Akio.” William walked over to where he had draped his jacket. He picked it up and slid his arm into the right sleeve. “I have a long memory, and I will be certain to take care of you.” He slid his other into the left sleeve and shot his cuffs.