Chapter 4

Settling into his seat on the plane, he leaned over and rested his head against the window. Mentally settling in for a long flight with his thoughts, until a woman sat down next to him. She was a few inches short than he was, maybe around 5’8”. Long straight black hair that reminded him of Raven. Dark eyes and fair skin. Japanese perhaps? She was easy on the eyes. Flashing him a polite smile, she cracked open a virtu-mag.

Shifting in his seat slightly, he noticed the press pass and photojournalists credentials lanyard around her neck. He gave it a nod. “Which mag do you shoot for?”

She turned, studying him for a quick second. Drinking in his own appearance. A beat later, a small smile cracked her lips as she flipped through the mag to an article and set it down in his lap with a nod. After a quick download, he spotted what she was referring to. It credited the journalist’s name to Noriko Fukada. He extended a hand in greeting. “Nice to meet you, Noriko Kyoshi. So. You shoot and write for the Edge. So what takes you to the middle east?”

“I’m interviewing a Saudi Prince after I do a puff piece for Toranaga. You?”

“Forensics,” He said after a pause.

Noriko’s brow quirked upwards, and she gave him an amused smile. “Sounds interesting. How did you get into forensics?”

“Wasn’t my first choice. Used to be a soldier for the longest.”

“Ahhh, a govie. I didn’t peg you for a govie. Maybe some high paid corpo, perhaps.”

“Ouch,” Jon said, feigning a wince. “Never a corpo.”

“No? The money’s so good, though.”

“I couldn’t sell out my soul to a company that only cares about how much money I can make it.”

Noriko only gave him a polite smile. “I get it. Especially if you’re struggling to keep what’s left of the government limping along. Corporations have practically absorbed most of the government,” she said. Tapping a finger to her lips, she scrutinized him closely. “Maybe a tinge of resent? Childhood trauma, maybe?”

“Maybe,” he said.

Noriko grinned. “Evasive. I like a good mystery.”

The two shared a mutual laugh before melting into a rather candid conversation that helped take his mind off his mission for the duration of the flight. Before he knew it, the flight was landing, and the plane finished taxing to its berth at the airport.

Reaching the foot of the steps from the plane to step down onto the tarmac, Jon braced mentally for the wall of heat that swept back over him. Normally there would be extra time to acclimatize, however, this was a quick in and out trip. Tugging his bag up on his shoulder, he gave Noriko a departing nod as she waited for her bags. He made his way across the tarmac, slipping back indoors to find a rental car kiosk.

The woman greeting him spoke English well enough that he didn’t need to resort to using his broken Farsi to carry the conversation. Establishing he wanted to make a rental purchase didn’t take very long, and she skimmed her inventory, then showed him a list of units.

“That one will do,” he said, pointing to a sleek black Mercedes Millenium model. The desk clerk smiled and turned the screen back around to complete his purchase. An instant later, she swiped the agreement papers to him. The download bar at the bottom of his screen filled quickly, and he checked the acceptance box and gave the forms his signature, then pushed them back to the clerk.

She turned to go fetch the key fob, leaving him at the counter waiting. A beat later, the scent of lilys returned. Turning around, Noriko stood next to him with her bags and a smile.

“We just keep running into each other. I still didn’t catch your name.”

“And I still didn’t give it,” he said.

She gave him a patient smile. She opened her mouth to speak, but Jon tracked her attention shift focus and turned, spotting the Clerk returning with his key. Taking the key graciously, he turned to leave without another word. His mind was both alert and curious about just how this Noriko Kyoshi was and why she was so interested in him.

The car chirped, sensing the fob and unlocking. Settling inside, the engine powered up. The battery reading 100% charge. The Solar panels on the roof of the car read functional, and he gave the lights a quick check. Everything looked green, so he began his drive.

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‎ The drive didn’t take long from the airport to reach the site where the attack went down. He didn’t have time to change out of his clothes and adopt a more localized attire, so suffering in his own clothes would have to suffice. He parked the car in front of the shop he found Sam in. Giving the outside a quick scan.

Jon’s v-lenses picked up over thirty different rifle round impacts. He superimposed the outline of the truck that kept some of those rounds from hitting below the outline. The cracks of gunfire snapped off in his mind. The whizzing of rounds cutting the air close by.

He turned up the street to where the attackers had fired from. He strode up the street, hands in his jeans pockets as he did. Detecting their firing position wasn’t hard to find. The blood splatter remained from the one man he shot during the exchange.

Kneeling down, he fished out a swab kit from his bag, tearing the plastic bag open. He mixed a solution up and rubbed a swab against one of the splatter patterns on the patio table, large enough to collect a sample from. He put the swab inside a plastic bag and tucked the evidence into a special pouch in his backpack. There were also a few spent shell casings half buried in the sand.

He dusted one off, picked the brass shell up, and blew the fine sand off. In the army they used to call the powder like sand “moon dust”. A more powdery version of eroded dirt than actual sand. That explained the ease with which sandstorms formed in this region. Literally, any air movement was a recipe for a brown out.

“Bit early for scavenger hunts, isn’t it?”

The wind carried the scent of lilys to his nostrils, heralding Noriko’s approach, and Jon’s entire body tensed in alarm. This was not another chance encounter anymore. His hand slid into his bag slowly for the pistol in the holster. He heard a camera snap, and he turned to see her facing down the street, holding a professional grade camera.

“You should be careful with that thing. This might be a corpo solar farm zone, but that doesn’t mean they maintain a huge security presence. A piece that expensive? It’s liable to be theft bait.”

Noriko gave him an amused smile. “I can handle myself.”

He sighed, shaking his head, leaving the pistol in the bag for now. But he didn’t put the strap on his shoulder either. “I’m sure you can. Why are you following me?”

“I told you, I’m a photographer and a journalist. I go where I want and follow stories. And you, Mr. Mysterious, smell like a story.”

He sat on the edge of the table, folding his arms, unsure of what to make of her. He came here to dig up answers, not baby-sit a journalist.

“So, what’s the story with the blood samples and collecting shell casings?”

Jon didn’t move, continuing his observation of Noriko.

“Still tight lipped?” She said, then nodded to the shop nearby. “Maybe you can help me figure out why it looks like someone did a drive by over there?”

Folding his arms, Jon refused to speak. Still unsure of what to make of her. Everything about this felt wrong. Coincidences got you killed.

“Maybe you can fill in the blanks on why a truck is posing as a new lawn ornament down the street?”

He sat forward, “Where?”

Noriko blinked off balance at his sudden engagement. She gestured down the road. “That way. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Standing up, he shrugged his bag over his shoulder. He already knew what happened here. The events after they started driving were where things got fuzzy for him. Rounding a corner, he noted several black holes in the wall.

He recalled Sam asking about the truck’s durability. He trotted to the hole, tracing a finger around the rim. The bullet impact was smooth, treated to extreme heat and pressure. The edges were almost glass like.

“What happened here?” Noriko asked behind him.

He shook his head. “I think a tech rifle was firing charged rounds into the street.”

He turned to look back across the street. Second floor had an open window that would make a suitable sniper’s perch. They drove right into the shooter’s lane of fire. That accounts for the evasive maneuvering. He rubbed his forehead; the details got fuzzy past this point.

“Check it out,” Noriko said, pointing to a series of tire burns on the road, small holes burned into the street surface. Missed rounds as the shooter tried to get a solid bead on the vehicle.

Jon traced a finger on the edge of one of the small holes. Smooth, just like the ones on the wall. Same caliber round and weapon type. The shots were tighter clustered, meaning he wasn’t charging the rounds as much between shots. Short gaps between shot groups showed mag swaps.

“What happened here?” Noriko asked.

“Something bad,” he replied solemnly.

Standing up, he patted his palms clean on his thighs and started following the trail. The alley way he recognized more in that vague brain fog of having a concussion. He took a deep breath. Nerves getting the best of him as he stood there staring at the back of the crushed truck. The locals had stripped some of the SUV clean for sale in junk markets.

“That’s a pretty terrible crash. Any survivors, you think?”

“Only one,” Jon said.

A numbness settled in as he forced himself to take a step. Then another, and another. The small trip took an eternity to bridge the hundred feet or fewer to the truck, but eventually he stopped within arm’s reach of the wreck. Eyes still locked onto the vehicle.

The gentle weight of a hand on his shoulder and his body did its damned best to jump out of his skin. He turned, wanting to glare at Noriko, but couldn’t bring himself to when he saw the softness in her expression.

“You ok there, Mr. Mysterious?”

He paused a moment. “Jon. Call me Jon, please,” he said.

Thankful for the change in focus, even though she’d set his heart racing. Jon wasn’t a jumpy person, but this was a little unusual, even for him. He reached out, touching the rear hatch of the SUV lightly, as if to confirm shot up skeleton of metal and glass was real and not some mirage.

“So, I get a name after all,” Noriko said. A faint hint of a smile appeared on her lips. He got the impression she was trying to cheer him up.

Jon kneeled down, looking under the truck. Oil and transmission fluid had commingled into a greasy mess under the truck. Bits of glass coated the ground like massive fragments of sharp glitter. The rear hatch window lay sprinkled on the ground, going away.

He stood up, looking down the street. Sam’s last stand. There weren’t any entry points on the far wall across the street, meaning Sam struck his target, or targets. Noriko stood next to him, leaning into his view, looking down the road.

“What are you seeing?”

“It’s what I’m not seeing.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

She turned back with an expectant look.

“Whoever was still in the vehicle opened fire down the street. The glass of the window here...” he pointed down, then back at the hatch. “Means the shooter was throwing rounds at the alley’s entrance. No bullet impacts down the road means he hit whatever he was shooting at.”

Noriko glanced into the truck, then leaned back. Her expression grim. “There’s a lot of blood inside.”

Jon nodded, remembering Sam hand the chip to him. “Yeah.”

Finally, he approached the driver’s door, which was hanging open, and forced the metal hinges open as much as he could. The metal creaked and protested as the mangled door and hinges resisted from the folded frame. Blood covered the driver’s seat and side console.

Jon imagined Sam undoing his belt and climbing to straddle the middle. That would have given him a better firing position and easy access to the black case where the spare mags would have been. The rifle and the case were missing from the truck. Confiscated by the corpo hit squad, no doubt. A camera click and flash caused him to flinch. Turning to see Noriko lowering the camera with an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, is this too much?”

He shook his head hesitantly, “No, it’s fine.”

“Why do I feel you know what happened here?”

“I was in the passenger seat.”

A knowing expression crossed Noriko’s face. She pointed to the bloodstained seat.

“Did you know him?”

Jon looked at her, fast growing uncomfortable with her frankness. Sensing his shift in mood, she backed off.

“Touchy subject. Got it.”

“Why are you here? Really here I mean.”

Noriko turned to lean against the truck. “I suppose I owe you that much. A few days ago, I get a call from my agent. Says something big went down around here. Lots of noise. Not usual for the area ever since the Corps. turned the area into their solar farm project. Asked me if I could come scope out what happened.”

He contemplated bringing up her story about doing a puff piece on Toranaga, but figured this was a side job, or the Toranaga piece was just a cover story for her presence here.

“My question are you doing here now?”

“Looking for answers,” he said.

Her brow furrowed. “To what questions?”

“Who ordered this, and why?”

“And have you found your answers?”

“Not yet.”

He stepped off, back down the alley for the mouth. Reaching the edge of the street, he took a knee. Probing the dirt with his fingers for something. Anything that might stand out or be of use. Yet he didn’t able to find anything.

Flicking his hands several times, he patted them clean against his thighs several times with a sigh. Noriko strode up next to him.

“Didn’t find anything?”

He shook his head, “Nah. Whoever cleaned the site up did a good job of policing up most of their brass.”

Noriko gave him a confused look. So he explained. “After the shooting stopped, the gunmen picked up the area of any identifying bits. They only left behind the things that wouldn’t implicate their involvement, which means I’m back at square one.”

Noriko glanced skyward into the afternoon sun for a moment, then back down. Jon studied her as she surveyed the nearby buildings, then nodded to herself before turning back to face him.

“What if I could get you a bird’s eye view of what happened?”

He narrowed his eyes, the shoulder strap of the bag sliding down his shoulder to his side. His hand drifted close enough to the zipper to rip the bag open if he needed to.

“I’d ask, How for starters.”

“Edge Mag is an affiliate with CommNet. We own the monopoly in satellites. I’d bet bottom dollar one of them saw what happened, and I’m owed a few favors. If this leads to a hit piece? All the better.”

He stood up, holding the bag in his hand by the strap. “How soon could you see the footage?”

Noriko shrugged, “Depends. How long do you need to tell a story?”

She folded her arms and went full poker face. She didn’t demand a bribe, and Jon didn’t know which he preferred more. If she were after money, that would make her just another shark in the ocean looking to take a bite out of a potential meal. The fact she wanted the story, though, had him uncertain about her. Perhaps she was altruist after all.

“Standard discretion rules apply. No accurate names used, only aliases, and I will omit any details that might let this trace back to you. Plus a small finders’ fee for the scoop.”

He shook his head, “No fee.” He wouldn’t have felt right to profit off of Sam’s death. Pursing his lips in thought, he ran through the outcomes. This might point back at him. Covering up what happened here wouldn’t be easy, though. She could have easily made some extrapolations from there. Interview some locals, and put the pieces together. Tell the story the corporations wanted. Two groups of locals had a shootout.

Noriko is going to write this with or without his help. Since he couldn’t stop her, this gave him some plausible deniability. CommNet boasted an array of communications satellites that made even what they left of the government blush. That meant their cute cover-up story would not last, but since this didn’t involve anyone with a big name, it’d go right back under the rug in a week.

He let out a reluctant sigh and nodded finally. “Alright. I’ll give you a story. But I need to see what those sats peeped.”

“You got it.” she turned and strode away, leaving him to follow her.

The drive back to her hotel in Baghdad didn’t take too long. A subsidiary of the Toranaga corporation, the building facade had an opulent look. It molded oriental and middle eastern design into a one of artistic beauty. Large rounded domes found in the mid-east with golden carvings typical of the far east. As they approached, he noted entrances, staff and guard personnel postings, routes and other threats. Brilliant crimson carpets laid out easily to follow paths into the hotel and around its immediate exterior. Already, he went to work approximating the distance he’d have to run at a dead sprint to clear a scene if necessary, and guessing at response times the staff would have. He knew all of this and more from time and experience in the Agency.

Jon tasted bile in the back of his throat as they stepped into the lobby, concierge taking the keys to their vehicles. The tall ceilings and gold trimming looked to fit into the native environment, where some Japanese aesthetic took root in some architecture. Ornate koi ponds and the scent of pond water wafted along the overworked air, conditioned air, gusted along in increments by the opening and closing of the doors with each guest’s entrance and departure. Large decorative tapestries hung from the walls, depicting scenes of samurai and environmental scenes.

Jon shuddered when he noticed that all the employees had full body replacements, using full cyber packages that gave them either gold or silver skin tones. He wondered why anyone would mutilate themselves so. Clearly, this was a company thing. They all had Japanese accents.

The receptionist smiled. The light glinting off her golden cheeks. Her pupils glowed blue, and she greeted Noriko cheerily. Then transitioned smoothly into a sales pitch for a room upgrade for a small premium, of course. Noriko declined gracefully, and the pair were in the elevator with Jon’s brain still stuck on the floor with the employees.

“You ok? You look a little pale,” Noriko said.

He gave a weak nod. “That’s the first time I’ve seen so many full skins like that.”

They strode through the lobby to the elevators, and a pair of elegant silver and gold doors parted to let them in. Noriko glanced towards the full glass wall of the elevator and nodded, not having paid the staff any attention. “Oh them? Yeah. It’s a Toranaga thing. Company pays for the bodywork and everything, but they lock you into a life of employment with them.”

That didn’t even occur to him. “They basically become Toranaga branded property at that point.”

Jon grit his teeth as a two wide screens in the elevator aired advertisements and news loudly. Sensors scanned their implants and started hitting them with targeted ads. Jon curiously noted that more than a few gun advertisements worked their way in targeting him specifically.

Noriko nodded with a grimace. “Yeah, if you decide to try to reskin, the process is quite costly, and that’s assuming the company would even let you go.”

“I heard they could practically own your life, but owning your body feels a bit much.”

Norika shrugged casually. “Not when the alternative means putting food on the table and keeping a roof over your head. Mega towers aren’t cheap living and beat the streets.”

Jon frowned, shooting one last look down at the lobby before they got too high to see. “Fair enough.”

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Noriko stepped out, with Jon following her. As they strode the red carpet hallways, his hand hovered near the bag, close to his pistol. Plugging her access cord from her wrist into the socket on the door, the light chirped, followed by a click. Noriko opened the door and gestured for him to step inside with her after he looked around and make sure he didn’t walk into an ambush.

Noriko dropped her bag on the small table by the door, approaching the large blank screen, and swiped across the screen, her eyes glowing as her lenses and implants synched up. She cracked her knuckles and turned back to give him a playful grin.

“Let’s see what big brother in the sky saw a few days ago.”

He gave Noriko a nod and let her get to work as she logged into CommNet’s user portal. While she navigated through the menus in the interface, he backed up a step to watch. Still unable to shake the feeling, this was some kind of setup. Looking over her shoulder, he watched her navigate to a special portion of the site that required implant authentication.

“Alright, I’m in.”

Noriko browsed to the satellite records over the region and scrolled back a few days. Jon stood up, pointing over her shoulder, “There!”

Selecting the data file, she pulled the footage up, and the scene played out normal enough. Giving him a skeptical look, “Are you sure this is right?”

“Keep watching,” he told her.

Recognizing himself and Sam as they burst out of the shopette and took fire from across the street. The two of them spilled into the truck and peeled out, leaving the three remaining men standing there flapping their arms, frustrated as their ride refused to move. The truck he and Sam were in took fire from the building like he thought, forcing Sam to swerve off the main street into the alleyway. The black SUV crumpled when it slammed into the wall. Glass shards exploded from the windshield, spraying the tan adobe wall with sparkling glitter. A few beats later, a figure stumbled out of the smashed truck. Himself.

The screen split in two as a new system tracked him, and the original stayed stationary on the truck. The rear window exploded outward as soon as a pair of black vans rolled into the mouth of the alley. Rounds flashed up and down the alleyway. Jon’s fist tightened and his heart raced.

“Pause it,” he said. Leaning forward, he squinted into the grainy video. “Is the system able to clean this up any?”

“You’re looking at orbital footage. This is as clean as it gets.”

“Damn.”

No logos on the vehicles and the angle was too high to discern any details on the individuals. Good and bad, thankfully. Good, because neither he nor Sam could be positively id’d. But bad because no luck in pinning this to anyone else.

“What about the vans?”

Noriko highlighted to the two armored van’s and their makes and models popped up in inset windows, along with companies that most often used them.

Toranaga, Haltech, Prometheus Arms, MilTech, and Red Dot Solutions. He folded his arms. “Scrub that list against companies in the region.”

Only Haltech’s remained up. Noriko turned to him with a wry expression. “You think it was them?”

He shrugged uncertainly. “Maybe. Sure looks that way, but I need more information.”

Noriko flicked her deets to him. The transfer downloaded, and his implant added her as a contact in his database. “Let me know what you find out? Call it a favor for a favor.”

Jon gave her a hesitant nod. “Alright. That’s fair.”

He headed for the door, shrugging his backpack up on his shoulder.

“Do you want to stick around? There’s plenty of room,” Noriko said, patting the bed.

He shook his head. “It’s late. I should be going. Thank you.”

Before he could leave, a download bar popped up. He turned back to Noriko.

“The video. Figured you might want that.”

The file finished, and he politely excused himself. Since he didn’t set up lodging anywhere, he figured on getting a room here. The day had worn on long enough, and he needed to rest. Tomorrow, everything would change.

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