Paul had spent the morning ensuring his publishing agent was at least mollified slightly by catching up on his writing schedule. With Inari off shopping and getting a taste of the big city, he felt that he was effectively ‘off duty’ as Herald, and could attend to his other identity as an author.
The mornings work allowed him to put the finishing polish to the latest manuscript, with a reconsideration and hasty rewrite of the last chapter before sending it off to be proofread and edited. He ate either a late second breakfast, or early lunch, depending on how you looked at it and then decided to putter around checking the temples buildings before bracing Tatsuo about Jiao going to school with Shoko. He told himself it was essential maintenance, and not procrastination.
He’d chosen to stay away from the workshop, as Ash was pulling the engine out of her bike so she could rebuild the frame. This was a messy job, and one inevitably ended up getting covered in oil doing it. Ash avoid ruining her clothes by the simple expedient of stripping down to a disposable boiler suit and a cheap bikini… apparently dullahan didn’t much feel the cold. There was a definite chance of running into her looking as if she just stepped off a greasy mechanics calendar. Paul felt he would rather avoid the risk of embarrassment by not going anywhere near the workshop for now.
He was working on repairing the lamp bracket by the main entrance when he spotted a trio of men in business suits at the bottom of the stairs by the roadside. Paul studied them for moment, then slid down the ladder. Evidently he was about to have visitors, and after last time there were preparations to be arranged.
By the time the three men arrived, a quarter of an hour later, Paul was sitting at a small wrought iron table, sipping tea. There was another place set, with a chair and tea cup laid out, across the table from him.
The three men paused, glancing among themselves, before the older of the trio stepped forward, addressing him in flawless unaccented English.
“Mr Paul Holmes?”
“I suspect you already know the answer to that. Who might you be?”
“Please allow me to give you my card.”
The man bowed slightly, presenting Paul with his business card. Paul glanced at it, and produced one of his own in exchange.
“Won’t you please sit and take some tea. I would offer some to your colleagues, but I suspect they’d refuse while on duty. Is that not so?”
One of the men Paul suspected were bodyguards, was unnerved enough, or unprofessional enough, to nod slightly out of sheer reflexive habit.
“So, Mr Imamura, what brings you all the way out here?”
“I represent a firm of lawyers, retained by an individual who wishes to purchase this property.”
“Do you indeed? Tell me, is it customary in Japan for lawyers to have a pair of armed bodyguards, and to carry at least two guns themselves?”
“I assure you Mr Holmes that we...”
“Please, don’t insult me by lying to my face. If you wished to carry concealed weapons you should have found a better tailor. You yourself have a pistol in the holster in your left arm pit. Judging by the weight and size of the bulge I’d say a 9mm automatic. You also have a holdout pistol, a .22 I’d say in a holster strapped to your right ankle. Your bodyguards are carrying .45’s at least in shoulder holsters, and probably .38 back-up pieces in belt holsters in the small of their backs. Further more, you had a sniper covering this terrace.”
“Mr Holmes, I assure we do not mean you any… wait, ‘had’?!?”
“I am not without my own defences here. Please do not be concerned, your man is quite well… probably rather unnerved but physically well. Although he has been relieved of his equipment and is being escorted off the property.”
Paul moved slightly, revealing the rifle propped up against the back of his chair.
“A Barrett .50 cal with quite a nice scope… do you want it back?”
Mr Imamura to his credit, kept his composure as he shook his head slowly.
“Please, consider it a gift, or a trophy if you will. We appear to have badly underestimated you Mr Holmes.”
Paul smiled slightly.
“Yes, I’d say someone in your organisation has failed to do their homework. So, having established that intimidation isn’t about to work, perhaps you would care to try honesty? I won’t insult you by asking for your real name, we both know that’s not how this game is played, but who are you actually working for? The hardware says a criminal organisation or big business, but I am thinking something more… governmental, perhaps?”
“Your reputation for astuteness is not exaggerated, Mr Holmes.”
Paul’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he chuckled.
“You were thinking, ‘for an amateur’ I suspect. Allow me to correct that misapprehension.”
The man calling himself Imamura finally showed a trace of surprise on his face. Then gave Paul an appraising look.
“Ah… I see. Suddenly your habit of travelling to various trouble spots around the world becomes more explicable. Perhaps you yourself are working for some government department?”
Paul laughed.
“Oh hardly that sir… no, I’m more of what you might call a Royalist, rather than a Parliamentarian.”
The man looked genuinely baffled by Paul’s reply.
“I...do not understand that?”
“Oh? I see… well then. Cards on the table time. As host I’ll go first. Apparently you are unaware that as well as various Government agencies, the British Royal family has a separate and parallel body of dedicated patriots who take orders directly from and are answerable only to, the Crown. We under-take.. ah, shall we say.. the occasional odd-job that the more rigid minds found in official offices are ill-equipped to deal with.”
“Ah… is that so...umm.”
“I’d hazard a guess you’re about to tell me your agency has a similar area of interest?”
“Yes… indeed.”
“I thought as much.”
Paul sighed.
“Look, to be honest, there appears to have been a bloody great cock-up in communications. Your lot have clearly not been briefed about this operation, and evidently have no idea what’s going on here.”
“Operation?
“Yes, about the matter your Emperor asked our Queen to help with when he visited last summer… and you have no idea what I’m talking about do you?”
The man shook his head, bewildered at the turn of the conversation. The duo of bodyguards behind him were looking at each other and then back at their chief in utter confusion.
“I find I have no knowledge of what you are talking about.”
“Oh God dammit! Well isn’t that just bloody typical…You mean no-one has told you anything about... Wait.. who do you lot answer to? The Imperial family or the Diet?”
“We are… how shall I say? We’re a semi-autonomous organisation, with some government contacts. Our remit from the Emperor Meiji, is controlling and removing certain influences. Ones that are... ah... counterproductive to the Imperial edict calling for the modernisation of society.”
“Ah, so... monster hunters than. Off the books and probably unknown to all but a few within the government. Correct?”
The man looked distinctly uncomfortable, but didn’t deny what Paul said. Paul sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Oh this is just bloody marvellous. You are so not who I expected, but the complete bloody opposite. Alright since operational security has clearly been compromised beyond all reason by your boy scout troop, please allow me to elucidate what is going on... in plain English, for the bloody amateurs in the room. I am one of the Royal Knights of the Order of the Sable Garter. In plain terms, this means I work for the Royal family directly. Not the government. I’m here at the request of your Imperial family, one made directly to Her Majesty, in person. I shan’t say why, but it involves certain esoteric assets and rather worrying indications of events over on the mainland. But since this mission was more precautionary and to avoid the possibility of interest to foreign powers, it was decided to keep it on a strictly need-to-know basis… and apparently someone thought you lot didn’t need to know. At a guess, probably ditto the Diet, which frankly leaks like a ruddy sieve anyway.”
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“Ah… we.. were not informed of any of this. Do you have any proof of what you are saying?”
“Oh suurre... I keep my Secret Agent ID card next to my decoder ring! No, of course I’m not carrying any bloody proof of my real identity or anything connecting me to any organisation, what do think this is, amateur hour?!”
Paul stopped, as one of the bodyguards hands had twitched towards a suit jacket pocket, and the lead agent was looking somewhat chagrined.
“Oh God dammit.. don’t tell me you do? Really?!”
“We are required to… agency policy.”
Paul sighed.
“You have my commiserations. Sounds like you’re dealing with more than the usual amount of bureaucratic idiocy. Anyway, back to the matter in hand. My job, unlike yours, is to work with the supernatural, and beings thereof, in order to maintain cordial relationships and stop unpleasantness from happening. Similar goals, very different methods. I’m here to secure the cooperation of a rather useful asset on behalf of Japan, for your nations defence, if it becomes necessary.”
The lead agent shook his head.
“I see… I understand your objective, but as it is counter to ours...”
Paul held up a hand.
“Yes, yes, I know. Your job is to get rid of the monsters or keep them contained at least, and most definitely not work with them. However, in this case national security and expediency trumps what your department wants. When foreign governments start weaponising this sort of thing, it pays to not get caught with your pants down. Although I see why we were contacted, given that this is counter to your entire organisation's operational experience, making you about as much use as a glass hammer in these circumstances… am I right?”
“I… we...our organisation does not condone what you are doing here!”
“I see… well, sorry. But I really couldn’t give two hoots about what you do, or do not, condone. Because I have clearance for this operation from Your Emperor, who I rather think gets the last word. Look, I am trying to be polite here despite you having put this entire operation at risk. So I’m afraid I must ask you to kindly forget that you ever heard of me, or anything I said and quietly drop the whole business.”
Paul sighed, and continued in a world-weary tone.
“Besides old chap, honestly this conflict of interests is above both our pay-grades and as one professional to another, I would suggest that you kick the problem upstairs. But for now this operation is off limits to you and your organisation. Although, if it’s any consolation, we do have this under control. We’ve been doing this awhile, since Dr John Dee’s time actually. So, on my oath as a Knight of the Sable Garter, I’ll keep a lid on things here.”
“But I have never heard of your organisation !”
“I should bloody well hope not. We are a secret organisation. In fact, I should imagine outside of the Imperial Family, there probably isn’t anyone in Japan who has, until now. We could hardly do our job otherwise. You know how the different intelligence services share intel, deliberately or otherwise.”
“Oh… ah, I see.”
“Now, are you clear on where we stand?”
“Ah.. No. Not at all. I shall have to consult with my superiors.”
“Yes, I rather thought you might. Pass on a message to them while you’re at it then. If there is any interference in this operation, or any mention of anything about all this to-do makes it’s way into any official documentation, or unofficial for that matter... then you and your superiors will have a rather irate Emperor to answer to. Not to mention Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the Second as well. At which point I assure you, heads will roll… quite possibly literally.”
“I see… I will go and report to my superiors. Er… verbally, for now.”
“Yes, I rather think you should. Oh, and gentlemen... one last point. You brought guns into a Holy Sanctuary. This is not permitted. I suggest you consider this matter very carefully, and don’t do it again or I cannot guarantee the response will be as lenient next time. You really do not want the resident Deity, or myself, annoyed with you.”
All three men looked uncomfortably among each other. The purported Mr Imamura swallowed and nodded.
“Insofar as it is possible, I gave my word that it will not happen again.”
“That will suffice. Well, until next time sir..”
“Until next time then Sir Holmes.”
Paul did not relax until Shoko appeared and informed him that the three had left. Whereupon he sagged a bit in the chair.
“Well, thank goodness that’s over.”
Shoko paused, scuffing the toe of her foot against the ground.
“Uhmmm… Paul-sama...”
“Yes?”
“When were you going to mention you’re a spy working for the English Queen?”
Paul laughed, although it had something of brittle edge to it.
“Don’t tell me you actually believed that?”
“You’re.. not.. then?”
“Good grief, no! Me, a knight? No chance! No that was quite honestly, one hundred and ten percent pure bullshit, from beginning to end.”
“Really? Truly?”
“Shoko-san… this is me we’re talking about. Yes, I’ve led a rather colourful life. But I am not now, nor have I ever been, a spy, government agent or for that matter, a Royal Knight. However... they don’t know that, and now I’ve successfully sowed confusion among the enemy, they’ll think twice before they do anything unpleasant… speaking of which, Aimi-chan are you around still?”
Aimi-chan’s voice came out from among the shadows under the veranda.
“Hoi! Here.”
“Thank you for your assistance, that was very well done.”
The giggle that came from the shadows was only slightly echoing and spooky..
“Glad to help Paul-sama, it’s just like playing Ghost-recon in real life! I’m going to go check our perimeter now, just in case. Ghost One, going dark.”
Paul stared at the shadows, that suddenly seemed a little less dark…
“Do you have any idea what she just said, Shoko-san?”
“Some... Aimi-chan plays a lot of video games. One of her favourites is called Ghost-recon, but I don’t know why because they’re not ghosts, just soldiers in something called special ops.”
“Okayyy… a Yōkai-onryō who’s a fan of FPS games based on black ops missions. Yeah, that’s not at all unnerving! Glad she’s on our side. Anyway, hopefully that little charade bought us some time, and at least we got a look at who the enemy is. Or rather one tentacle thereof…”
“You called them monster hunters. Are they?”
“Something like, I think. We’ll need to hold a council of war when Inari gets back. But I think we can safely say that there is a quasi governmental group out there, who are not at all friendly towards Others… and I rather think we’re going to have quite some trouble from them in the future.”
Paul sighed and stretched.
“Oh well. I suppose I’d better go and try to talk some sense into Tatsuo next. I mean, it’s not as if this day could get any worse, could it?!”
Shoko-san looked at him doubtfully.
“You know you just made sure it will now, don’t you Paul-sama?”
Paul grinned wryly and nodded.
“Yeah… as soon as I said it. But honestly, what else can go wrong?”
“Double doomed.”
Paul found Tatsuo in the Oni’s great hall, lounging on a pallet on the dais, with an ink brush in hand and a blank scroll of parchment in front of him.
“Busy, Lord Tatsuo?”
Tatsuo looked up, and shook his head.
“Trying to compose something, and failing… any advice from the established author?”
“Do something else, something boring for preference. Your mind will wander and maybe something will occur to you.”
Tatsuo looked down at the blank page, and set the brush down on the little stand next to the ink stone. Looking up, he smiled.
“So, Paul-sama, what can I do for you?”
Paul chuckled, shaking his head.
“Nice… you’re getting better at diplomacy.”
“Huh?”
“Oh, Mark Twain’s definition of diplomacy; how to insult someone and have them say thank you.”
Tatsuo looked lost for a second, than shook his head.
“Ah.. I’m sorry Paul-sama! No insult was meant. I didn’t mean to imply that whatever you have to say will be boring!”
Paul smiled slightly.
“Pity… that would have been a nice bit of wit if you’d meant it that way.”
Tatsuo looked at him befuddled.
“You… are not angered by what I said? But why?”
“I’m a writer. I like playing with language remember?! So a battle of words is fun for me… and honestly, insults would be an improvement over the surly silence which seems to have been your response so far.”
Tatsuo sat up, and shook his head.
“I.. I had not realised that is what it seemed like I was doing.”
“So… you’re not pissed off at me for some reason?”
“No, I am, for a specific reason. But I did not mean for it to colour my actions towards you.”
Paul’s eyes widened in surprise. Well, that was an honest response at least, he thought.
“Okay… so what have I done to annoy you?”
Tatsuo sighed and looked around, evidently checking to see if anyone else was in hearing range.
“You Paul-sama. Your easy leadership. The way you give orders, without consideration of others. The careless disregard for safety you have… and the fact that despite this, everyone follows you!”
Paul rocked back on his heels, putting a hand down to steady him where he sat. Of all the possible answers, that wasn’t one he’d considered.
“Okayyy…. You do know that people are free to tell me to go to hell, right? I mean, I don’t command...”
“You are a fool Paul-sama, if you do not see they will follow you anyway! You have a... charm, about you. Something that despite all the years I have trained to lead my clan, I will never have. They want to follow you Paul-sama, because they like you. And if I was foolish enough to gainsay that, then they would turn against me in a moment.”
Tatsuo scowled…
“And I find I am not immune either. You paint a wonderful picture of the future with your words Paul-sama, one that even I yearn for, even though I know it is but a fool’s dream. I find I want to believe, even though I know it cannot be. You give my people hope Paul-sama, and that is dangerous, for when that hope is inevitably betrayed and destroyed it will kill them!”
Paul sat silent for moment, then sighed…
“Lord Tatsuo… I have misjudged you. I thought your actions were the result of injured pride, or confusion, but no. You’re right to have misgivings you know… and I’d be as big a fool as you think I am if I didn’t. But I don’t express those, because I want people to hope. Hope is essential, it’s what keeps us alive and fighting when by all rights we should have given up and died.”
Tatsuo shook his head.
“Hope is what gets us killed Paul-sama… I know this because it killed my parents!”
“And I know hope is what keeps us going. You know I lost my wife, right? Hope that I would see her again, in some other life, has kept me alive. Hope is what lead me here, to everything that I thought I’d never have. If we don’t have hope that we can make our dreams become reality, then what point is there to living?”
“Revenge. That’s what!”
“Isn’t a life lived well the best revenge? They tried to kill your people, every last one. Wouldn’t being able to live your life openly, freely and in happiness, be the ultimate revenge on those that would deny you that? Because otherwise it’s like drinking poison and expecting your enemy to die. You might be alive, but you’re not living.”
Tatsuo opened and then closed his mouth. He shook his head slowly.
“You show me a future I would very much like to believe in, Paul-sama, but you are reckless as well and I do not trust you with my people.”
“Reckless, perhaps, but not careless or thoughtless. I’m still here, alive after all… and I do not take chances with the lives of others unless I’ve figured out all the angles and come to the conclusion that there is minimal risk to them.”
“So you say Paul-sama. But I do not trust your words… or your wild ideas.”
“That’s a pity, because I do actually need you and your clan’s help. Is there some way we could resolve this impasse?”
Tatsuo smiled, slowly…
“Well… traditionally, there is a way to prove your trustworthiness. If you are agreeable.”
“Very well then, what do we need to do?”
The Oni’s smile got broader, and he started to chuckle.
“Allow me to show you, Paul-sama.”
Paul had an abrupt sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, as he saw Tatsuo’s shark-toothed smile. He just knew he was going to regret whatever happened next.