YF went into the train station bathroom to down the bottle of stabilized blood that Mori had passed to him. The first two times he drank it, it gave him a nauseating feeling that lingered for hours. This time though, whether because the contents were different or he had grown more used to it, he did not feel anything. But the moment he thought about what he was doing, a sense of guilt came rising from his core. He stuffed the container into his backpack as if doing so would clear him of any judgment. He replayed what had happened during the raid in his head. Why was Uwada waiting there with the enforcers? Would Mori have actually attacked if YF did not step in? Why did Mori seem like she was there out of her free will? His receiver vibrated, indicating he had a new message. He pulled it out to read it.
“4-45-5-5506 Nishida City 0144-0051,” said the message. An address? YF checked the public key of the encrypted message against his virtual cabinet to confirm that he knew the person who sent the message. He then pocketed his receiver. Neither Counterterrorism nor Division Four would be interested in his input now that they had Uwada in custody. YF decided it was probably better to just go ahead and investigate the address.
***
When YF arrived at the address the door was closed. No sound emanated from inside the room; it did not seem like whoever occupied the apartment was expecting a guest. He pressed the button to slide open the door, which was unlocked. The door opened to a scene of pure chaos: items were strewn in all directions, what looked like body fluids flowed across the floor, and the smell of ejected bolts filled the room. YF could see the body of a middle aged woman slumped against the window — whom he shortly recognized as Honda. She had obviously been dead for some time. YF stepped into the apartment and walked toward Honda's body as quietly as he could. As he passed the kitchen, he saw the body of a man lying face down in front of the refrigerator. Multiple gaping holes were shot through the fridge's doors such that milk, juice, and other food debris had pooled around the man and mixed with his blood.
YF continued walking toward Honda's body. He stopped as he stood over her, the moonlight illuminating her face. With the realization that somebody was tailing YF's moves and that the only person he could imagine being so ruthless was Reina, he knew that he did not have time to mourn either Lydia nor Honda's deaths before the next body on the ground turned out to be Erika with his unborn child or himself. Seeing Honda seated there made him wonder if he should have just attacked her at Eiji's wedding. Would her bodyguard — that Kawara — have stopped him? YF shook his head. Attacking then would have been a mistake. YF was sure Kawara had some sort of modifications that would have left Erika without a husband and put everybody else at the wedding in danger.
He crouched and plucked Honda's pistol from her hand, deactivating it so he wouldn't hit the trigger by accident. YF shoved the weapon into his belt. It was then that he noticed Honda had a smirk on her face, that same smirk she had used on him so many times before. Though it felt selfish, YF was somewhat comforted by the fact that she did not appear sad, regretful, or scared during her last moments. YF figured that Honda sent him her final message because she wanted him to find something, but he wasn’t sure what. He checked the pockets of her coat, which only had her badge, receiver, and a few backup energy magazines. The receiver was shot through, there was no way he could recover anything on it.
YF turned around. Was it the terminal? That seemed a bit too obvious. But then again, Honda did not seem the type for riddles. YF walked over to her work desk. Someone had obviously tried to hit, and even shoot at it to get rid of whatever was on the device. He glanced once at the man on the kitchen floor and then back to the terminal. With the terminal damaged, YF was not sure how he was going to recover the information, though there was one obvious place to start. YF unlatched the terminal and shoved it into his backpack. He then exited the apartment.
***
YF stared at the eviction notice on Toa’s apartment door, as well as the city notice for demolition. At first he thought Reina might have gotten to her too, but then realized she was probably still doing national service and sitting in some barracks in the middle of nowhere. YF suddenly remembered she never told him where she was stationed. He smirked. If there was anyone he didn’t need to worry about, it was probably Toa. Besides, having still owed her for the information on Katayama, it was unlikely she would do any more favors for him, even if she was in her apartment. YF tried to imagine Toa cursing her life as she climbed some wall obstacle or led her squadmates through a flooded field and smiled. She was probably promoted by now. Good for her.
YF turned and headed back to the train station. He would have to try somewhere else.
***
“This machine is inoperable,” said the repairman. “I’ve tried about everything I can think of minus taking it apart.
“Is there any way we can recover the data?” asked YF.
The man glanced toward the ceiling. “I’ve heard the Nats or the Mets have software for that but I’m not sure how you’d get your hands on that.”
YF could tell the man knew exactly how to get the software for that, though he was not sure he wanted a stranger to see what was inside the drive. YF wasn’t even sure he could pay for the software if the man could somehow procure it. In any case, using bootleg National Police software didn’t seem like the greatest idea.
“I’ll have to think on it, thank you sir,” said YF.
“No problem, take care.”
YF took the terminal and placed it back into his backpack. He then zipped it up and went back home.
***
If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Erika must have been at the doctor’s when YF arrived home. As he looked at the food left on the table for him, the images of Lydia and Honda resurfaced, causing him to worry about Erika’s safety. Would Uwada keep his promise? He seemed pretty satisfied with Mori’s presence, and with Erika being an ex-girlfriend, there was no reason to renege on that promise right? Did they break up on bad terms? YF found it strange that he hoped they did not.
He tried to suppress his worry by telling himself that Uwada had somebody watching her as he quickly ate the food to calm his nerves. When he finished, YF dug out his set of tools from his youth when he and Saru would steal terminals and rip them apart to sell the components. He then removed Honda’s terminal from his backpack. When he took off the back panel, the hard drive was staring at him with another address, crudely carved into the metal. YF nodded in admiration. Clever, yet simple. He should’ve expected as much from Honda. YF unscrewed the drive from the rest of the frame and flipped it over, to see if there was any other message on the back, but there was none. The biggest problem now, he realized, was that the address was located in Bandai Ward, near the Imperial Palace and in the heart of the capital. There were probably multiple barricaded checkpoints on the way. Would they let him through? YF took out his new Ward attache badge — one that he also had to actually ask for to get — and flipped it over. He would have to hope that Honda somehow factored this into her calculations.
YF screwed the drive back into the terminal and replaced the back panel. He then packed it up again and stood up, heading out the door once more for the train station.
***
Under any other circumstances YF would have been excited to visit one of the Inner Wards of Akeha, but as he rode the train he was only anxious to get the trip over with. Reaching Bandai Ward took much longer than he expected. When the train reached Shihonki station an announcement came overhead that the train would stop for decontamination and all who wished to advance would have to pass the checkpoint on foot. Decontamination took much longer than YF was used to from the trains going toward Nishida, so he watched the news idly as the process went underway.
On the news, the Minister of Defense was announcing that they had awarded a major defense contract to Aoshima. Almost immediately after his short speech was finished, the camera focused on a woman wearing some sort of blue, modern looking kimono-dress hybrid which was much more form fitting than the traditional style. She still wore the haori over it loosely which draped over her arms but wasn’t tied at the waist. The camera then focused on her face.
“It’s an honor, Okada-san, to receive this contract on behalf of Aoshima Group…” Reina started.
YF hit the record button and turned off the feed. He would have to watch it again later, but seeing Reina any more was only going to put him in a bad mood. When the decontamination process finished, YF got out of the train and headed for the Shihonki checkpoint down the hall by following the signs. When he reached the barricade, he could see that everyone in line had to put their bags through a security scanner. YF felt uneasy as he thought about the terminal sitting in his bag.
When it was his turn, however, he placed his bag on the conveyor belt and watched the disinterested guard staring at the monitor with some relief. If there was anything wrong with the terminal, the guard did not seem to notice. YF passed through the scanner and went for his bag, but was stopped by the guard on the other side.
“What’s your purpose for entering Bandai Ward?” he asked.
YF took out his Ward badge and showed it to him.
The guard looked suspicious. “What business does Nishida Ward have here? There are no scheduled trainings or conferences.”
“I need to get some information,” said YF, trying to sound confident.
“Will Bandai Ward, Met Police, or the NPA verify that?”
“I’m sure you can ask them,” said YF, suppressing his nervousness. “It’s an urgent matter, not sure all the procedures went through yet.”
The guard frowned. “Come in, officer, just make sure they notify the checkpoints earlier next time.”
“Thank you sir. Sorry about that.”
YF breathed out lightly to calm himself down after retrieving his bag, continuing toward the train platform with lines bound for Akeha station.
There was one more checkpoint at Akeha station, which passed much smoother than the one at Shihonki. YF exited the station and followed his navigation toward the street; the address was not much further from the station. When he reached the area indicated by his receiver, he realized that he had to descend all the way to the ground level. It was odd to think that a controlled area would still have a ground level, but he supposed it made sense. Even the country’s elites needed their lower levels, whether for labor or other less savory purposes. YF looked around at the glitzy restaurants located in the center and top floors of the various office buildings through their transparent windows. He was also sure that the food tasted better down below than in those buildings.
YF started down the descension ramp and made his way slowly toward the very bottom. As he passed through the levels he noticed that there was a lot more activity going on than the lower levels of Itsugo. Private security clandestinely watched the pathways from their small koban-like boxes, and the people seemed a bit happier. There were still handfuls of people sleeping on folded delivery boxes, but open drug use and erratic behavior was noticeably absent. YF also noticed that he still had signal, which meant he probably didn’t need to save the route.
When he reached the end of the navigation he found himself standing next to an abandoned noodle stall a block or two from where most of the locals were gathered. There was nobody nearby. YF lowered his receiver. The feeling of danger was not as acute as in Itsugo’s lower levels, but the atmosphere was still tense.
“You are Mr. Sakai I presume.”
YF turned to see a man dressed in thick, roughspun clothing with a beanie and disheveled facial hair come out from the alley.
“And who might you be?” asked YF, standing up straight. He started reaching for his belt before realizing that Honda’s pistol was deactivated, and he was not sure it would fire up in time for him to need it. YF eyed the man up and down. How fast was he? YF learned the hard way on the streets that appearances could be deceiving.
The man didn’t seem to notice. “Are you Mr. Sakai?” he repeated.
“And if I am?”
“Tell me who sent you here,” said the man.
“Honda.”
The man looked left and right before motioning urgently toward the alley he had emerged from. “You’d better come with me and do it fast, we don’t have much time.”