Lockhart Ch. 4
Posted: Sun Jun 14, 2020 2:27 pm
Plot synopsis: Lexi arrives in Japan and meets some allies.
Contains: uniform stealing, bound women, nonlethal take downs, bondage themes
Lockhart
Chapter 4
Family Ties Part 1
Kellen Morrison was a stout man and he stuck out like a sore thumb in Japan at 6’3. He was balding and at the tail end of this fifties. He was one of the senior managers of W&W Securities, a business specializing in moving or destroying sensitive computer equipment for private companies. Their main sites were located in London, San Jose, and Tokyo. It was a cushy position that allowed to him to comfortably pay alimony for two ex-wives.
He’d just gotten out of happy hour with some coworkers and was about to have his usual evening massage at one of the “premium” spas he frequented. He was in his limo with three of his bodyguards. He called and made reservations at a new place his friends had constantly raved about called Kogarashi. He’d always thought it was way too expensive compared to his usual go-tos but he was feeling special tonight.
Deb Kepler was one of Morrison’s only female bodyguards. He kept her in his immediate circle often, specifically for these occasions. The spas did not allow men inside that were not paying customers. He and Deb checked into the lobby of a swanky office building and took the elevator to the ninth floor where Kogarashi was located. After a short waiting period in the lobby, the hostess told him which room would be his.
A big smile cracked across Morrison’s face when he was greeted by the sweetest-looking Japanese girl. Just an inch or so over five feet, she was miniature next to Morrison. Her hair was was styled in a fancy updo and secured with a red ribbon. She had large brown eyes and pure alabaster skin that glistened from the steam wafting in the spa room.
She was adjusting the towel wrapped around her torso that stopped at her upper thigh. It appeared to be the only thing she was wearing besides her wooden sandals. “Mr. Morrison?”
“And who might you be, beautiful?”
“I’m Rei. Please come in, sir.”
Her beautiful, unblemished skin bared one outlier. On the back of her right shoulder there was a tattoo, a red silhouette of a rabbit in profile. On her porcelain sheen, the rabbit looked like it was standing in a snow-covered plain.
“Your English is perfect,” Morrison commented as they walked into the steamy room.
“Thank you.”
He had to admit, so far, Kogarashi did seem nicer based on the elegant interior and furnishings but he wasn’t convinced on the price until he saw Rei. Damn if the girl wasn’t absolutely perfect. He knew all of the employees at these places were of legal age but Rei looked criminally young. He always had trouble guessing the ages of the women in this country.
It was softly lit inside. The floor was black marble and the walls were decorated with traditional tapestries. There were two massage tables spaced neatly in the center.
“May I undress you, sir?”
“Please do,” Morrison said with a chuckle.
Deb groaned to herself and walked to the corner of room and pretended to use her phone.
Deb, 30, had only been on Morrison’s security detail for six months but she was desperate to get out. The man was obnoxious and had a short temper. He was constantly yelling or getting upset by things like minor traffic or when an intern was late with a food or drink order. He mostly left the bodyguards alone but Deb still hated being around the guy.
She’d been on these trips with Morrison before. They had warned her about it during the job interview and she was a professional so she said as long as she wasn’t turning a blind eye to anything illegal she was fine with it. It didn’t make it any less awkward and she had the creeping suspicion the man got off on having another woman in the room while he did his business.
Rei had taken off all of Morrison’s clothes from the waist up. She knelt in front of him and undid his belt and pants then slid them down. Morrison wore boxers underneath and he was clearly erect.
From her suggestive position on her knees, Rei looked up at Morrison with a gasp, “Mr. Morrison! We haven’t even started yet.”
Deb threw up in her mouth a little.
“Please lay on the table. I’ll be right back,” Rei said.
Rei walked over to the far wall and slid it open, revealing it as a door. It rubbed Deb the wrong way but she let it go. She hadn’t realized there was a second area to the room. The Japanese girl returned with a wooden tray carrying lotions and oils.
Morrison was laying on the table with an elbow propping him up. His eyes never left Rei and he had a big, eager smile on his face. She set the tray down and stepped out of her sandals.
Rei placed a hand on her towel. She was demure, almost worried she’d offend, as she asked, “May I take this off?”
“Of course, don’t be shy, cutie.”
She let the towel drop and she stood bashfully averting her gaze from Morrison’s with her hands clasped behind her back. Drops of perspiration were beading on her slick skin. Her breasts were small but attractively round and taut. Rosy pink nipples stood attentively on their pale mounds. Morrison’s eyes passed over her flat stomach to her crotch. She wore white panties and the thin material had become wet and completely transparent from the steam, giving Morrison a good look at her hairless sex. It took all his power not to reach out and put his hands all over the girl right there.
“Do you like how I look?”
“Very much, very much,” Morrison chuckled excitedly. He was feeling extremely grateful that they had stopped to grab condoms on the way over.
Rei wore very little make up save for the gloss on her lips. She ran a finger over her bottom lip while looking Morrison over. She hesitated and glanced at Deb.
“Kepler, would you get the fuck out of here?” Morrison yelled, “Can’t you see I need some privacy?”
Deb had been trying to melt into the corner and ignore what was going on. She was suddenly alert now. “I need to keep you within sight range at all times, sir.”
“Just go in the next room or something. I’ll call if I need you.”
“Mr. Morrison — ”
“Now, damn it!”
Deb sighed and walked over to the sliding door Rei had used earlier. She decided she could wait there and check out the other room while she was at it. The other side had a counter running along the wall with chairs, mirrors, and makeup kits. Further down there were shower stalls and shelves with towels, robes, and massage supplies. It looked to be an employee area. Deb noticed all of the stalls were open except one at the end. They had talked to the hostess and had been told Rei would be the only employee in the room with Morrison.
She walked over and gave it gentle knock. “Excuse me, is there someone in there?
No response.
Deb’s intuition was gnawing at the back of her neck. It was locked and the stalls were too tall to look over and went to the floor so she couldn’t look underneath. She took out a pocket knife and slid it through the door seam so she could shimmy the sliding bolt mechanism.
The door popped open. A nude girl was suspended in the stall. Her bound wrists were above her and tied to the shower head. Her legs were spread in a V. Ropes held her ankles up in the corners of the stall. The girl’s eyes were glazed, she blinked lazily at Deb and made a low moaning noise. A ball of clothing was stuffed into her mouth and secured by another piece of cloth tied around her head.
Deb put one hand on the 9mm in her waistband holster. Her left hand moved to toggle the mic in her shirt cuff. She was suddenly swept to the ground. Her face hit the tiled floor hard and an arm was around her neck while she was pinned down from behind. She choked loudly, fighting for air.
“Go to sleep, Ms. Kepler. Shhh…that’s good,” Rei whispered.
Morrison groaned his temples were pounding. He tried to move his arms but could not. He was laying face down on the massage table. His arms were laid out above his head and tied down to the table. He found he couldn’t move his legs either. He turned his head and saw Deb crouched over a duffle bag on the ground.
“Kepler,” he groaned. “Kepler, what’s going on?”
The woman was not Kepler. She stood up, her back still facing Morrison. She was adjusting her blouse sleeves and tucking the blouse tails into her pants. Morrison craned his head. There was a naked woman suspended from the rafters.
It was Deb, completely stripped and hanging from several ropes. Smaller ropes weaved between her legs and buttocks, encircled her torso, and looped around her breasts to create a harness. Her wrists and ankles were bound to the harness so that she was locked in the fetal position with her hands behind her back. She hung face down, parallel to the floor with her long hair untied from its bun and hanging over her face.
The other woman finished adjusting Deb’s stolen clothes and turned to face Morrison. It was Rei. She picked up a katana blade from the duffle bag and drew it from its scabbard. She stood in front of Morrison, rolling her wrist and twirling the katana around. Her face was expressionless while she relished the look of terror in Morrison’s eyes.
“What is this…what the fuck is going on?”
“Mr. Morrison, you will stop making deliveries for the Ashida company effective immediately. We will follow up in one day. As punishment for your past partnership with Ashida, I’ll be taking compensation in the form of one of your hands to return to my client. Because I am in a considerate mood I will let you choose which hand you wish to keep.” Her voice was as soft as before only the tone was now flat and devoid of any soul.
Rei’s phone vibrated, rattling loudly on the wooden tray where she had left it. “Excuse me.”
“Mr. Crowe, It’s been too long,” Rei greeted.
“Likewise. I just wanted to check in on the Red Rabbit. How have you been?”
“Oh, just busy with work. How are you?” Rei sat in a leather recliner. She rested her katana against the wall and crossed her legs.
“Not good, actually, I’m sure you heard about Constance and India?”
“Mmmm,” Rei purred, she could vividly recall the delicious images that had been sent to her by Crowe’s office as a heads up. “Yes, it’s terrible. It looks like someone had some really strong feelings against them.”
“I wanted to ask about Miyamoto. Do you know if he was up to anything interesting…any business in California?”
“You think he did this? I know India and Miyamoto have a history but he wouldn’t kill her. Besides, I have a truce with Miyamoto,” Rei said. “I don’t get in his business and he doesn’t get in mine. I haven’t heard anything from him in a while.”
Deb had awoken and was screaming uselessly into her gag. She struggled in her binds and began oscillating weakly in the air. Rei didn’t give it a glance.
“What if I told you it appears Miyamoto is working under guidance from someone that was close to Lockhart?” Crowe asked.
That caught Rei’s attention. “What makes you think that?”
“Call it a hunch. Katrina is headed to Japan. I may send some backup with her. Could you keep an eye out for anything suspicious amongst the clans?”
Rei sighed. She couldn’t stand Katrina. “Of course, Mr. Crowe. You’ll be the first to know.”
“I’ll talk to you again soon.”
“Bye-bye.”
Rei returned to Morrison. “I apologize. That was rude of me. Now, which of your hands would you like to keep?”
***
The conference room projection screen showed a dozen artistic depictions of women stripped and strewn up in intricate webs of rope in various positions. April tapped the keyboard and brought up another with crime scene photos displaying dead or unconscious women displayed in the same fashion.
“These type of assassin clans can be traced back to 15th century Japan. Like the ninjas depicted in media and film, they specialized in stealth and deception. Often times they would infiltrate an enemy’s army by stealing uniforms to get access to targets higher in the hierarchy.
There is documented evidence of female sects within these groups that targeted the women that their male counterparts refused to kill out of a sense of chivalry or pride. These women could infiltrate palaces by stealing the uniforms of maids, servants, or the appointed staff members.
Fast forward to today where we have hundreds of unsolved cases that mirror these types of assassinations occurring over the last thirty years, a sharp spike in the last decade.”
April scanned across the audience. It was eighty percent male. Most were from local Japanese law enforcement and intelligence branches. Those that did not speak English wore headsets providing translation. All of them were older than she was. She went into the next part of her presentation with a new set of slides.
“The art of Kinbaku, a type of rope bondage that became popular in Japan following the Second World War, seems to have heavily influenced what we see executed by these clans. It’s largely regarded as a type of pornography today by the mainstream but notice the similarities between the poses used in Kinbaku and what we see here in our crime scenes. Identical binds and poses are used in multiple instances.
It should be noted that there is a power dynamic by the ‘rope artist.’ In this case the power on display is from the perpetrator. We often find objects placed in the victim’s mouth, vagina, or anus. This could be simply an act of domination or a show of force but it’s often times symbolic in an act of retribution.”
An hour later, April strode out of the conference room with her hands buried in the pockets of her long wool coat and her messenger bag over her shoulder. She wore skinny slacks and fashionable ankle boots as she headed down one of the glass skyways that weaved between the two main buildings. CIA Branch Chief Suzanne Birch was leaning on a railing. She put her phone away to wave at April.
“Hey-hey,” April greeted.
“How was the briefing?”
“Horrendous — I get the feeling everyone is just daydreaming and fully hard while I talk about bondage and the dynamics of a dom-sub relationship.”
“I’m sure all of the porn in your PowerPoint presentation also helps.”
“Oh, good, I was worried they were imagining me in all those scenarios.”
“Well, you should be worried, they’re definitely imagining you in those scenarios but I’m sure they’re capable of learning from your presentation and being fully hard.”
“Fantastic.”
“Enjoy it while it lasts, kiddo. I would love to turn that many heads at my age. Plus, if the CIA thing doesn’t work out at least you can always fall back on teaching.”
“Alright, what are we doing for lunch?”
April Grant, 25, had been recruited by the CIA out of college as an analyst. She worked on a forensics team while she pursued her PhD. Her published analysis focused on the correlation between historical assassin cults and what she perceived as their modern day evolution in the form of bizarre, unsolved cases. It was enough to catch Suzanne’s eye.
Suzanne had been one of the chiefs in the CIA’s Japan office for the last seven years. She summoned April a year ago to help investigate a number of mysteriously killed CIA assets that fit right into April’s area of expertise. The cases were a pet project of Suzanne’s, she had been approved to follow these under the radar while attending to her other typical branch duties. No resources would be provided to investigate ‘bondage killings’ that the agency felt was a local matter. As far as these cases, went it was just Suzanne and April in the loop.
At the age of 50, Suzanne had been in the intelligence community longer than April had been alive. She saw the potential in the young analyst and had not only been April’s boss but her mentor as well.
Lunch was at an upscale restaurant in the heart of Tokyo. It was crowded and the ladies just managed to get a corner table overlooking the city below.
“So I have a confession to make,” Suzanne said.
“I’m not paying for this. This fancy restaurant was your idea. I wanted ramen.”
Suzanne laughed. Her eyes were focused on something on her phone when she casually said, “Remember India Adams, the woman that worked for the Fallon Defense Group we investigated a while back? She’s dead.”
April froze, staring at Suzanne until her boss looked up at her and gave a little smirk and continued, “A pull on some of her recent cell data shows she was making calls and texts to Japan for the last two weeks before she died. What number do you think I noticed from that report?”
“Miyamoto.”
Suzanne nodded and discreetly slid the phone to April. “And then there was this.”
April turned the phone over, her expression composed, and slid it back as if Suzanne had shown her a slightly amusing text. “I recognize that handiwork. Why ‘traitor?’”
Suzanne shrugged. “Maybe India worked for someone over here at some point.”
“We’ve been looking at Miyamoto this whole time and haven’t been able to find anything substantial.”
“We’re close, kiddo. I know we’re looking in the right place. This India thing might stir up activity locally. We just have to keep our eyes and ears open.”
***
A week and a half after taking care of India, Lexi and Nigel arrived in Japan, smuggled into the country via cargo plane. No passports or paper trail would indicate they had ever traveled. There were special private plane services but Nigel was being very frugal with the spending money now.
With India’s laptop and phone, Nigel’s reliable tech contacts returned several communications between India and someone named Miyamoto or someone that seemed to at least work for Miyamoto. India was also often in contact with another person codenamed ‘Red Rabbit’ just over the last week.
They boldly reached out to the ‘Miyamoto’ email address and let them know that India had been taken care of by them. They simply gave Lexi’s first name as identification and stated they wished to talk about India and Alden Crowe. After a few days they received an address for an office building in Saitama, Japan, and negotiated a time and day.
Lexi’s pixie cut had grown out a bit, almost to the length of a bob, but she still kept the sides and back short. In Meredith’s suit, her silhouette looked eerily similar to the expired exec. She also wore Meredith’s old heels and necklace. Nigel sat with her in the rental parked across the street from rundown-looking office building. It looked abandoned but there were clearly cars parked outside.
“This isn’t a hit. There’s no reason I can’t tag along.”
“I need you to stay hidden. If they think I’m working alone we can use that to our advantage.”
Nigel gave a deep sigh. He held out a skinny watch obviously meant for a women’s wrist.
“Is it my birthday or something?’
“Press and hold the face down for three seconds if you need help. I won’t go kicking the door down but I at least want to know if something’s gone wrong. I won’t intervene unless absolutely necessary.”
Lexi hesitated but took the watch and put it on. “Thanks, Nigel. Where do you keep getting all these wonderful toys?”
“My friends, or rather former friends, in British intelligence keep in touch. Are you really just going to walk in there?”
“What’s the worst that can happen?” Lexi said dryly.
“You get drugged and hauled off to uncertain torture or murder.”
“That’s what this handy rape whistle watch is for.”
“That’s the spirit.”
Lexi put on her sunglasses and walked to the building. There were some cameras but strangely no security to be found anywhere. The lobby was modest with just a sofa and a couple of guest chairs in the waiting area. There was a woman tending to the front desk. Lexi’s Japanese skills were marginal at best but all of their communications with Miyamoto were in English so she assumed she’d be fine.
“Excuse me, I have a one o’clock meeting with Mr. Miyamoto.”
“One moment.” The front desk woman got on a phone and had a quick back and forth. She looked back up at Lexi and smiled. “Please take the elevator to the fourth floor.”
“Any room number?”
“Fourth floor, please.” The woman insisted.
“Sure, thanks so much.”
That was easy, Lexi thought. She got off the elevator into an empty office space. Where there would be an array of cubicles there were none, just a large vacant room missing patches of carpet and locked-up office doors around the perimeter, devoid of any furniture. Several of the ceiling tiles were out revealing insulation and wiring. One of the doors opened and four women walked in dressed in black office attire. They were trailed by an older woman dressed the same but in red.
“Lexi?” One of the younger women asked.
“Yes?”
All at once, the four women drew handguns on Lexi.
“Ohhhhh…poop,” Lexi muttered.
The older woman in red spoke in Japanese.
“This is Madam Hirata. I’m Sakura.” The girl speaking looked to be the youngest in the room and had perfect English. “Are you law enforcement, CIA?”
“No.”
“Who are you with?”
“I was a friend of the Lockhart family.”
Hirata spoke a single phrase. Sakura nodded and looked at Lexi, “Take your clothes off, miss.”
Lexi almost laughed. It was odd that this suit had to be removed at gunpoint twice now. She slipped the jacket off, dropped it to the floor, and removed the camisole after to reveal her black strapless bra. She undid her fly and gave the pants a simple push. They dropped effortlessly around her ankles and the room got a good look at the thong she was wearing.
Hirata muttered something Sakura responded. There was no translation.
“That’s a beautiful necklace.”
“Thank you.”
“Please, take off everything,” Sakura added with a gesture of her gun.
Lexi unclasped her bra and let it fall down her arms then slipped her thong off and stepped out of the pile of clothes bunched around feet. She stood patiently with her hands folded over her shaven mound wearing only her heels.
“Put your hands on the table over here, miss. I’m going to search you.”
She did as told and Sakura nudged Lexi’s feet apart. Sakura put on a pair of latex gloves while another girl was patting down the pile of clothes. Lexi cleared her throat as she felt fingers probe her sex. Sakura held out the little razor coated in rubber that Lexi had hidden.
“That’s for emergencies,” Lexi said a little embarrassed.
Sakura placed it on the table and went back behind Lexi to check one last orifice. Lexi’s eyes widened. “HEY! Warn a girl first!”
Sakura said something to Hirata and then said to Lexi, “You may get dressed now.”
After she was clothed again, they led Lexi down a hall to a plain room with a table and two chairs. They instructed her to take a seat and Sakura waited in the corner of the room in Lexi’s blindspot.
Ten minutes later, a man entered. He looked to be at least 60. He wore an immaculate suit and tie and was slight of build, probably the same height as Lexi. His hair was thinning and his face looked like he’d lived a stressful life. Lexi and the man exchanged bows.
“Good evening. I’m Mr. Miyamoto but please just call me George.”
“Lexi. Nice to meet you, George.”
“I apologize about the security. You have to be careful these days.”
“Sure, you never know who’s sneaking around.”
Miyamoto took the opposite seat and took out a cigarette. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all.”
“I was an acquaintance of Katya and Leonard Lockhart. How do you know them?”
“I’m their daughter..their other daughter.”
Miyamoto nodded, not showing the slightest bit of surprise. “Hmm, so they had another daughter. You took care of India and now you’re looking for Alden Crowe? Thank you, by the way, she was becoming a big headache.”
“The pleasure was all mine. What was your relationship with India?”
“India used to work for Crowe. My clan and a few others got into a territory war with him. We called for a truce after our resources could no longer sustain the fight. Part of the agreement forbid operating in each others’ territory. India apparently thought that truce applied to her after she left Crowe’s employment. That’s where our disagreement began.”
“And who’s Red Rabbit?”
Miyamoto examined the ash tray a long moment before saying, “Another former employee of Crowe’s.”
“Do you know where Alden Crowe is?”
“He runs a private military company called Blue Ocean Global but you won’t find his name on any company documentation or find Blue Ocean listed on public databases. No one has seen Crowe in years unless he wanted them to. He was two daughters in the business hiding in plain sight. Gianna and Isabel Boni, aliases of course.”
“What do you know about my family?”
“That depends on what you want to know. I’m what you call a collector of information. Deciding what can be shared safely is a skill I have that has kept me alive for a long time, long for this business anyway.”
“I need to know who was involved in the deaths of Lucy, Katya, and Leonard Lockhart and where to find them.”
“Crowe, obviously. India Adams and Constance Delpy captured your sister for Crowe, both are dead now. Meredith Downes spied on your mother and father for several years while working as their assistant, providing Crowe with intel, also dead.”
“I know all of this.”
“Of course, of course.” Miyamoto nodded and flicked his ash in the tray. “Do you know Katrina Reinhardt?”
She shook her head.
“They call her the Killer Queen. Besides Lucy, she was your father’s best student. She ambushed your mother and delivered her to Crowe to kill. She’s the leader of all of Crowe’s operatives now. I can’t tell you much more than that but I know a place that might be very useful for your needs.”
“I’m listening.”
“There’s a data archive in Tokyo operated by an IT company called Gamma Sun. It’s a server farm holding files, cell phone data, security footage, and emails. There are over one-hundred servers in the facility but I know exactly which machines are holding what you want.”
“How do you know that?”
“I used to own them. Meredith commandeered them from us during the clan war. I can help you retrieve them if you’re willing to help me with my own dilemma.”
“I bet I can get in there myself.”
“There’d be no time for you to individually search each machine to find what you’re after. It would take dozens of hours even if you had a general idea of where to start.”
“Ok, that part sounds problematic. What can I help you with?”
“The CIA has been monitoring us for the past year, severely limiting our operations. They seem to think we’re responsible for the deaths of several of their local informants and at least one CIA officer. Their primary investigator is a woman named April Grant.”
“I’m not killing anyone that works for the CIA.”
“You don’t need to kill anyone. I simply need you to give them a message, scare them if you have to. We’re not the clan they should be after.”
“You can’t do this on your own?”
“Yes, but it would be very risky. You’re new to this scene. Think of it more as proof of good will.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“I respected your parents. We exchanged students to share our knowledge of the arts but we were far from friends. How about this: we can help you get the information you want first. If you are unhappy with what we find, you can forget about April.”
“Ok, George. It’s a deal.”
“Good, I’ll make some calls. We might be able to arrange something in the next two days if not tonight. Sakura will be here to assist you with anything you need while you’re in Japan. We can provide lodging at our estate outside of the city.”
Lexi turned and the Japanese girl nodded politely.
“Sakura is one of my most trusted and reliable employees. To stay on the side of caution, I recommend your lineage remains known to only the people in this room.”
“Good idea,” Lexi agreed.
Outside, Lexi took a moment alone to call Nigel and give him an update. She was going to head out with Sakura and check out the accommodations. She’d provide a location once she got her bearings. Nigel would stay incognito at the motel, a shady place Nigel had selected that accepted cash payment. At some point Lexi would need to get her things from there. All she had on her was Meredith’s clothes and what she could fit in a purse.
Sakura was twenty-one with an outgoing and bubbly energy despite her line of work. She unraveled her long black hair from its bun once they got outside and pulled a pair of sunglasses out of her breast pocket. Once they had left the building, her demeanor changed from the professional stoicism she showed earlier.
“Sorry about the rude welcome. Like Mr. Miyamoto said, we need to be very careful these days.”
“It’s cool. Did you grow up here?”
“I was born here but I spent a lot of time in the UK. Have you ever been to Japan?”
“Once when I was very little, which I don’t remember, and one other time when I was older but I was just here with my dad on business. I mean he was on business. I just sat in a hotel.”
They walked out to the parking lot where Sakura’s car was. It was the latest iteration of the Mazda Miata, a rear-wheel-drive, open-top roadster. The black compact was a two-seater, low on pure power but quick and nimble. Some kind of plush cartoon animal hung from the rearview mirror.
“Are you hungry? Dinner is on me,” Sakura said.
“You got to third base with me and all I get is dinner?”
“Take it or leave it.”
They stopped by a modest place that, despite it’s appearance, had some very good food. They were served bento boxes and sat on a patio under an umbrella. There were only a few other groups of diners but that was enough to make the small eatery feel cramped.
Sakura talked about traveling and living in Japan, noticeably avoiding any personal details or talk about work. She played with some of her vegetable tempura and asked Lexi in a lowered voice, “Are you really Lockhart’s daughter?”
“Why?”
“It’s just that, in the office with Mr. Miyamoto, you asked about the Red Rabbit. I thought you should know. Her name is Rei Minami, she was part of Crowe’s coup.”
“Another student of my father’s?”
“Well, sort of, Miyamoto took us in around the same time. We were both orphans. We were like best friends back then. She had…difficulties. Miyamoto sent her to train with your father. He thought your father could help her.”
“Miyamoto didn’t want me to know that?”
“Not exactly, we don’t kill our own unless we have no other choice. It’s an unofficial rule for us. Those two don’t like each other but I guess Miyamoto feels like it would be dishonorable to give her up to you.” Sakura uncomfortably wrung her hands. “You were going to find out about her sooner or later. I didn’t want you to think we were deceiving you for malicious reasons.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Outside of the business with Rei, no. Mr. Miyamoto wants Alden Crowe out of the picture as soon as possible. A lot of local clans we’ve had longstanding wars with sided with Crowe as soon as he took the company from your father. If Crowe is your enemy, we are definitely your allies.”
A text chimed on Sakura’s phone. She read it and smiled. “Good news. It looks like we’re moving tonight. The girls are already getting ready.”
***
They called it the temple based on an ancient Buddhist shrine nearby that had been destroyed in a storm decades before. The estate was built on a ridge overlooking the ruins. It was a multi-tiered mansion encircling a large, artificial pond. The design was based on traditional Japanese architecture using modern materials. Lexi and Sakura arrived late in the afternoon and parked in a gravel lot with some other cars. They hiked up a long dirt path leading to the front court.
“You can stay here while you’re in the country.”
“Do you live here?”
“We all have places in the city but anyone is welcome in and out of here as they please. For occasions like this, it works as a staging area.”
They walked past a garden filled with blue flowers. Sakura noticed Lexi looking and told her, “Don’t touch or smell those. They’re poisonous.”
“Are you joking?”
“No, they’re for a project we’re working on. Come on, the ladies should be in the dojo.”
“You might want a sign there or something…”
They traveled through the halls and entered a large room with a padded floor. There were two dozen women inside sparring in pairs. The group was multi-ethnic, aged 20-30, but mostly natives of Japan. One of the women shouted a command in Japanese and they fell into formation as four lines of six. The women wore black leotards and neck gaiters pulled up to their noses as masks.
Sakura sighed. “Mr. Miyamoto likes to show off with theatrics whenever we have guests.”
“Holy crap, you have a ninja squad.” Lexi stared in awe.
“We don’t call ourselves that but sure,” Sakura said. “This is Yumi, Miyamoto’s captain.”
Lexi shook hands with a broad-shouldered Japanese woman of above average height who looked to be in her early thirties. She had a bob cut swept back with a hair band. She pulled her mask down to reveal her face. They exchanged bows and then shook hands.
Yumi’s accented voice was as strong as her appearance,“It’s a pleasure to have you joining us. Miss?”
“Lexi,” Sakura answered for her.
Yumi cocked her head towards the next room. “Come, we have a lot to show you.”
There was gear set up on several tables in the next room. It looked to be a normal den or dining area that had been cleared out. Lexi took a lap around the tables and leaned over the various gadgets like she was in a museum.
“I’ve never seen most of this stuff,” Lexi said.
Sakura patted her on the shoulder. “It’s time to step your game up.”
One table had knives, tools, and syringes. Lexi noticed black ball gags. They looked more utilitarian and less like the bondage accessories Lexi purchased in the states. Sakura picked up a little pistol that resembled a hot glue gun. The grip was thick and round. She held it out for Lexi to see.
“A CO2 cartridge is inside the handle, good for 30 shots. High pressure sends the fluid through the skin with no needle or marks.” Sakura pulled the slide back revealing the inside of the loading breech. “Toxin capsules are loaded in here, one per shot, obviously. It takes your standard red, blue, purple, and green capsules. Place on an artery, preferably the neck for best results, and fire. Hold your hand out.”
Lexi looked at Sakura, incredulous. Sakura smiled. “Put your hand out.”
Lexi did so and Sakura showed her the breech was empty before closing it. She pressed the gun tip against Lexi’s palm and fired. There was a hiss of air and it felt like someone flicked her skin.
“They don’t feel a thing and it’s much faster than a syringe. You don’t have to worry about keeping the target steady or breaking needles,” Sakura said.
“That’s wicked.” Lexi held one of the injectors up. It might not have been as concealable as a syringe but it was a nifty tool.
“Just make sure you look at the capsules carefully before loading them. They all look identical except for the toxin code on the outside. We actually mark them with ink sometimes to make it more obvious.” Sakura moved on. “Look here. I know you’re a Kinbaku fan.”
Lexi was not familiar with the whole origin but the Lockharts, and many companies like theirs, had been influenced by the Japanese bondage art and applied it to their craft. Sakura showed Lexi a table where there were a few Kinbaku harnesses made of ropes, some plain and some in black or red.
Sakura picked one of the webs of ropes up and held it against Lexi’s body like she was checking to see how it would look on her. “Do you know how to use one of these?”
“It’s been a while. I’m just usually too lazy to prep them and I don’t like packing all that rope.”
“They’re fun,” Sakura said with a shrug.
Sakura moved to a table of electronics. Lexi could recognize a smaller version of the brick she used to duplicate badges. There were some fiber optic cameras as well.
“These ear pieces are radios, nothing special there. Check this out.” Sakura picked up a plain black cellphone. “Can I see your phone?”
Lexi gave it to her. Sakura tapped Lexi’s screen and the typical locked screen message appeared. She held the black phone face to face with it while holding down a button on the side. There was a tiny chime. Sakura moved the black phone and showed Lexi’s screen was unlocked.
Lexi grinned. “Neat.”
“It works most of the time depending on the security of the phone.”
Nigel would love that, Lexi thought.
“Let’s get ready,” Yumi said. “It’ll take some time to drive into the city. We’ll wait there until it’s dark.”
They entered another smaller room where there were black catsuits with pink trim hanging on racks.
“Do I get one of those?” Lexi asked.
“Of course. You can’t wear that pant suit on a raid. Plus, these totally make your boobs look bigger,” Sakura said.
They were joined by six other women that Yumi had pre-selected for the mission. Yumi singled out two, an African and a European, Janette and Ingrid, respectively.
“These are my lieutenants,” Yumi said. “Janette has been with me the longest of anyone here.”
“Have you ever been on a raid before?” Janette asked Lexi.
“I can’t say that I have.”
“Oh, it’s great fun.”
“Where are you from, Lexi?” Ingrid asked.
“She’s from America. Leave it at that,” Sakura said.
Ingrid cocked an eyebrow. “Hmm, top secret.”
“I was going to say you look very familiar,” Yumi said. “I guess if I asked ‘where have I seen you before’ you wouldn’t tell me.”
“Miyamoto’s orders,” Sakura said.
The women undressed and switched into the catsuits. They came in three sizes and were made from a spandex-like wetsuit material that zipped from the crotch up. They were built snug and comfortably stretched to accommodate their hosts. The feet were part of the suit and the soles were rubber so no footwear was required. They slipped their neck gaiters on last.
Lexi sat with Sakura on a bench and noticed two white sticks next to her.
“Are these a new type of syringe?” Lexi examined one of the white sticks.
“No, they’re just for my hair,” Sakura took it from Lexi. Sakura wrapped her hair up and stuck the two sticks in to hold it in place.
“Oh, cute.”
Before they headed back to the main planning room, Yumi and some of the other girls grabbed katanas from a rack on the wall. They wore these with a strap over their shoulders.
“You don’t actually use those do you?” Lexi said.
“We train with them but mostly for tradition and sport. I don’t think any of us have actually used one in the field unless it was an emergency,” Sakura said.
“Each of us has a personal sword. If it’s not inherited or gifted we customize our own,” Yumi said.
“Everyone in my family was into them. I didn’t really get much experience with these before they…” Lexi stopped herself.
Yumi had been listening and politely acted as if Lexi hadn’t said anything. She glossed over it. “Let’s take a look at the plans.”
On a large table were blueprints and layouts of the data center. Janette pointed at one that showed a cutaway of the building’s exterior. “First floor is security. It’s a basic civilian company contracted by Gamma Sun. The guards are responsible for the security of the building except for the server floors. They should be operating on a skeleton staff. The second floor is amenities; cafeteria, gym, rec room, etcetera. We have no interest there. The next two levels are support and non-IT units. These will be empty for the night and locked down. Fifth floor is the IT branch. The four floors above that are all server floors.”
Ingrid took over. “The security for the server areas are handled by the Ito Clan.”
“We’ve had a long history with them,” Yumi said. She and Janette traded grins.
Ingrid went on, “Our key to everything is this maintenance stairwell that runs from the basement and up to the first floor of the server room. The servers rooms are only accessible from the maintenance stairwell through this door. That means no elevator access. The server rooms are accessible by IT staff or Ito members only. Breaching the door will set off an alarm.
We’ll start on the security floor, secure uniforms, move to IT, identify personnel with the correct level of access, and use them to get to the servers. We’re only concerned with the first two server floors. Once we’re in there, we won’t know how many of Ito’s girls will be working. It’s very possible we’ll need to abort if it’s too risky.”
Lexi pored over the layouts. “You all put this together in a few hours?”
“This isn’t our first time in the datacenter,” Yumi said. “And we’ve had another raid planned for a while now. Miyamoto was on the fence about it but it looks your arrival has revived his interest.”
“How do we get in?”
“That’s the best part,” Janette said. She pushed aside all the papers and showed a layout for a parking garage. “This garage is not for the datacenter employees. It’s for the office building on the corner belonging to one of our clients. However, it shares a wall with the maintenance stairwell. When Miyamoto still owned the datacenter twenty years ago, he had this fake air duct built from the garage to the stairwell. On Gamma Sun’s blueprints, they think it’s a normal ventilation duct going to the basement.”
“Whoa.”
Sakura smiled. “Cool, right?”
***
After 10 PM, when the Gamma Sun datacenter had switched to its overnight staff, Lexi and Sakura exited the two utility vans in the darkened parking garage next door. They were accompanied by Yumi and the team of six. The vans had deliberately parked at an angle to cover part of the wall. They located a specific section of steel paneling, popped off several bolts, and exposed a small duct that was just big enough to belly-crawl through.
Yumi was first. She crawled through with a rope tied to her ankle. Janette held the big spool of rope and unraveled it while Yumi moved. After a moment Yumi was on the radio. “Good here.”
The team strung up their packs and bags to Janette’s rope to form a chain and Yumi pulled all the gear through to the other side. The team followed one by one with Sakura and Lexi going last.
Sakura crouched down next to the duct. She turned and pointed at Lexi’s leg. “What happened there?”
There was a big tear on the thigh of her suit.
“Oh, crud,” Lexi muttered to herself angrily.
“Can I ask you something? What’s with the no cursing thing?”
“My mother never let me and my sister curse. We would try to come up with other words when our mom was around to crack each other up. It became a habit for me and I just kept doing it.”
“Oh.”
“Is that weird?”
“No, just sort of lame.”
Lexi flicked Sakura’s ear, “Get in there.”
On the other side, the stairwell was bigger than Lexi had thought it would be, a large silo design with a wide open center and stairs running along the wall. She could look straight up to see the top of the stairwell. Yumi and her team were already mostly geared up with their utility belts, thigh holsters, and backpacks. Janette and Ingrid volunteered to hit the security floor and took two others with them.
Using a fiber optic camera slipped underneath the stairwell door, they spied the corridor until they spotted a female guard doing her rounds. She was in her thirties with an average build. Her clothes would serve them well. When the guard passed, Ingrid slipped into the hall and stalked the guard closely, smoothly pressed an injector on her neck, and fired. The guard never knew anyone was behind her. Ingrid caught the collapsing body before it could hit the ground. She dragged her to an unlocked office and radioed for Janette and the others.
They made quick work of the guard’s uniform; a ball cap, white short-sleeve shirt, and black trousers with a gold stripe running down the hip. It was normal practice amongst the clans to strip their enemies completely even if their undergarments were not needed and the guard received no preferential treatment. One of the Japanese members accompanying Janette and Ingrid began to strip and trade her catsuit for the security uniform.
The guard’s radio burst to life with a man’s voice requesting a status check. The unconscious guard’s replacement wasn’t done dressing yet but she quickly replied on the radio in Japanese. “Nothing to report here.”
She snapped on the guard’s pistol belt and adjusted her tie. Janette helped her fix her collar and they sent her on her way. She found a small break room where there was another female guard settling down with her microwave meal. She sat down and prepared her utensils, not paying any mind to the fake guard that had entered the room behind her. She was put to sleep before she could take a bite.
Janette was summoned in with the others like before and they kept an eye on the corridor while the second guard uniform was stolen and swapped. This unconscious guard, younger than the first woman and a little thin, was unclothed and tied up. Janette and Ingrid took care of moving the bodies to the stairwell and they threw away the untouched microwave snack.
The two naked guards were passed over to the rest of Yumi’s team. They began tying ropes around them and arranging them to be suspended in the center of the stairwell.
Janette reported to Yumi, “We have two inside right now as security guards.”
“Good, tell them to find and secure the monitoring station. We’ll scrub everything when it’s time to go.”
***
Margaret Lowe, 38, had been in the tech industry since she graduated from Duke University. She had long, wavy, brownish hair. Her father was of Chinese descent and her mother German and Irish. She and her husband had moved to Japan ten years ago when her company offered her a highly profitable position.
She was one of the managers at the Gamma Sun datacenter. She had always been a night owl and didn’t mind being the designated overnight manager. Things were nice, quiet, and slow. On most nights, she could spend half of her shift online shopping.
Margaret wore a baggy wool sweater in burgundy and slim fitting khakis with heels. She was doing a lap on the IT floor.
“Dave, can you run those diagnostics for units 25 through 35 on the third floor again?”
“I did it when I got in. Everything is looking good except that warning that keeps popping up on 28. The guys from the last shift flagged it and said it looks benign.”
“Run it again. I told you I don’t want those third floor units touched before 11. I want to see the diagnostics on a fresh cycle.”
“Sure, can I run them a little later? I’m working on that thing for the fourth floor units.”
“Run it now. I’m going to check in an hour and those diagnostics better not still be running.”
She walked off and checked on two more of the techs on the floor before retreating to her office. She was doing a redesign on her bathroom at home and was browsing a selection of tiles on her computer. She hadn’t sat down for two minutes when there was a knock at the door.
She minimized the online store from her desktop. “Come in.”
A bookish Japanese girl with big glasses leaned in carrying four coffee cups in cardboard takeout tray. She was short and slightly chubby. Her hair was long with bangs. “Hi, Mrs. Lowe.”
“How many times do I have to say it’s just ‘Margaret,’ Tomoko?” Margaret was fluent in Japanese and she spoke to Tomoko in the native tongue.
“Oh. Sorry, Margaret. I didn’t know if you wanted regular or decaf or if you wanted non-dairy or dairy creamer. So this cup is regular with dairy creamer. This is regular with non-dairy creamer. This is decaf — ”
Margaret cut her off, “If someones says get me a coffee with cream, you can assume they mean regular unless they specify otherwise. Also, just save yourself the trouble and bring the creamers and sugars separately. Did you finish the inventory of the new drives on the second floor like I asked?”
“I started it but Atsuo told me to hold off until he was done testing them.”
“Atsuo is not your boss. I am. Please go finish those now.”
“Oh, ok.” Tomoko disappeared through the door before popping back in five seconds later. “How many creamers and how many sugars should I bring?”
“Tomoko, leave.”
“Sorry.” The spectacled girl disappeared again.
Tomoko was a nice girl, hard-working and very smart, but she always was asking Margaret to double-check everything she did or screwing things up that didn’t involve working directly on a computer. The day manager apparently couldn’t stand her either because he dumped Tomoko onto Margaret’s shift just a week earlier.
Margaret sipped her over-sweetened coffee grumpily and reopened the bathroom design website.
***
Tomoko hummed to herself while she walked to the maintenance stairwell. She wore a company polo, loose jeans, and sneakers. The super-cooled server rooms were always freezing so she had her hooded sweatshirt in hand.
She was a college student and had gotten the job through a special program her school had with Gamma Sun. She’d been there six months and liked it a lot, especially since she had been rejected by a dozen other companies during her job search.
Unfortunately, she was now on the overnight shift and she had trouble handling the irregular schedule and her school obligations. She was soldiering on and still adjusting but she wasn’t sure if it would work out in the long run.
Everyone talked about how Margaret Lowe was the strictest of the managers and Tomoko experienced it firsthand on her new shift. She felt nervous around the manager and seemed to always make more mistakes because of it.
She was trying to go over the inventory process in her head when she entered the stairwell and gasped. Four figures in dark clothing surrounded her and grabbed at her limbs. She was far from athletic and would be no match for one attacker let alone a group. Identifying her as not one to put up a fight, they didn’t bother choking or sedating her. Tomoko was surprised so quickly that her polo shirt had already been removed and a gag placed into her mouth before she understood what was happening.
They bent Tomoko over and pulled her pants and underwear down to her ankles. The young woman pleaded with her assailants, pointless with the ball in between her jaws. They responded by cutting her bra off and wrapping her body in ropes. She made a squeaking sound as another rope was fed between her legs and pulled taut between her buttocks, completing the harness.
One of Yumi’s girls was already running more ropes from a web she created at the top of the stairwell where the two unconscious guards were hanging in hogtied poses. She tossed the ropes down to the others so they could secure them to Tomoko’s harness and feet. The girl was raised into the air. They adjusted the ropes and tied them to railings and whatever solid anchor points they could find. Tomoko still had her sneakers on and they began removing these from her dangling feet. All of this was done in barely a minute.
Lexi sat on the railing with Sakura and stared at the scene below, mesmerized.
“What’s wrong?”
“I never seen a whole team operate before. It’s so efficient.”
Tomoko was suspended face up with her legs spread wide by separate ropes. She was red-faced and trying to protest through the gag with a look of both humiliation and confusion.
Janette passed Tomoko’s things to Sakura. “Your new clothes.”
“Thank you.”
“One sec,” Janette said. She moved back up the stairs to get on Tomoko’s level. She hopped up to one of the railings and reached towards Tomoko’s face. The girl whimpered and turned away but Janette was only interested in Tomoko’s glasses. She tapped a finger on Tomoko’s nose. “Relax. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”
Janette tossed the glasses to Lexi while Sakura was busy undressing. Once Sakura was in Tomoko’s loose-fitting clothes, Lexi handed the glasses over to complete the look.
“I like wearing glasses. They make me look cute.” Sakura put them on but removed them instantly. “Oof, her prescription is too strong. I can’t wear these.”
“Wait I got something for that.” Lexi rummaged in her backpack and produced a pair of plain glasses with fake lenses.
“Cool, I’m glad we brought you along.”
“Yay, I contributed.”
Sakura put the glasses on. “Does it look like I work with computers?”
“It doesn’t ‘not’ look like you work with computers.”
“Good enough.”
“Will that work?” Ingrid pointed at Sakura’s new badge.
“It will get us in there and let us work on some of the systems but I think I need a manager’s badge too,” Sakura said.
“We’ll worry about that later.”
They prepared to head to the servers with Tomoko’s badge and clothes in their possession. They checked in with their security guards to get an update on the camera situation. One of them had made it inside the monitoring room.
“I found something interesting on the cameras here.” The guard said.
“What is it?” Yumi asked.
“It looks like Heidi Konig is on the second floor server room.”
A smile spread on Yumi’s face. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Heidi is one of the Ito Clan’s top captains,” Ingrid said to Lexi. “Very high on our wish list.”
Yumi continued on the radio. “There isn’t an IT manager on the floor is there?”
“Hold…yes, Margaret Lowe. She looks like she’s in her office right now. Caucasian, possibly mixed race, thirties.”
“Ok, we may need her. We’ll let you know.”
They entered the first floor of the server room and left behind one team member to guard the stairwell. There were seemingly endless aisles of the tall, black, bookshelf-like cases storing the computers. The walls, ceilings, and floors were in white tile. It was freezing, dimly lit, and the loud hum of cooling machines made it so anything quieter than a raised speaking voice could not be heard.
Yumi signaled the others to split off. Lexi and Sakura followed Yumi in the opposite direction to do a patrol of the room. Sakura spotted one of the Ito guards. They wore similar suits like Miyamoto’s team except theirs were a dark purple, nearly black, with yellow trim. This guard had a utility belt on and a thigh holster.
Sakura ventured down the aisle alone while the other two took a separate aisle. The guard and Sakura approached from opposite ends. In Tomoko’s clothes, Sakura was merely given a courteous nod. When they began to pass each other, Sakura swept the Ito girl’s legs out with a kick and fired her injector against her neck.
A second guard appeared just in time to see Sakura finishing. She began to draw her sidearm on Sakura but Yumi was immediately behind her. She shot the guard in the neck and let her sleeping body hit the floor.
Ingrid and Janette came around with another pair of captured Ito girls walking with their hands up. Both were already biting down on ball gags strapped to their faces. One was Asian, didn’t seem to be Japanese, and the other European.
“These two didn’t even put up a fight,” Ingrid said.
“Ugh, rookies,” Sakura observed. “Ito is so sloppy with her recruitment these days.”
Janette pulled her pistol out and gestured to the two prisoners. “Clothes off, now.”
The Ito girls were distracted by the sight of their two unconscious comrades being stripped by Lexi and Sakura. They knew better than to protest and removed their neck gaiters and belts before unzipping their catsuits and pushing them off their shoulders. They pulled their feet free of the suits with some effort before they stood only wearing their sports bras and underwear.
“Underwear too, girls,” Janette snapped. “Your dignity stopped being a factor a while ago.”
The prisoners looked at each other unhappily but proceeded to remove their undergarments.
Sakura looked the naked girls over and surmised, “They can’t be too far out of high school.”
“Ito just puts anyone out on the frontlines, huh?” Janette said. “Tie them up and put them with the others.”
With four suits in their possession. They had enough for the whole team, excluding the girls who were holding things down on the security floor. Sakura remained in Tomoko’s clothes and they were saving Lexi for the manager.
They tied up the naked prisoners and stripped down to don their newly acquired outfits. They swapped their earpieces for the ones the Ito girls had been wearing to listen in on the enemy communications. Sakura and Lexi had their original earpieces and were responsible for the transmissions for Yumi’s team.
Sakura took a tablet computer out from Janette’s bag. They had all of the targeted servers marked. Three were on their floor and two on the floor above. She was no tech whiz but several of the girls had been trained to do this specific task and ran through it several times as practice in a computer lab owned by one of Miyamoto’s partners.
Everything was done through a software interface and the preconfigured tablet pc took care of going around Gamma Sun’s security protocols.
“We can unlock all these machines from here and set them to transfer their data to these hard drives we brought,” Sakura explained. “Sometimes we can do everything from here but the higher security systems require the transfer to be initiated from the manager’s desktop.”
“Let me guess…” Lexi started.
“We’ll grab the manager in a second,” Yumi assured. “Let’s secure the next floor first.”
Lexi pointed her thumb at the four Ito women on the ground. “You don’t want to add these to the collection in the stairwell?”
“We’re taking them with us. Miyamoto has a location where he keeps people of interest. We can always use them to trade to other clans for favors or trade them back to Ito if they have something we want.”
“How many people do you have stored out there?”
“You’d be surprised how shaky people’s loyalty can be. A lot of the ones that aren’t traded are persuaded to join our side. Miyamoto relocates them, of course. Let’s go. If Heidi is up there I want that German bitch to myself.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Character limit maxed. Chapter continued in next post below.
Contains: uniform stealing, bound women, nonlethal take downs, bondage themes
Lockhart
Chapter 4
Family Ties Part 1
Kellen Morrison was a stout man and he stuck out like a sore thumb in Japan at 6’3. He was balding and at the tail end of this fifties. He was one of the senior managers of W&W Securities, a business specializing in moving or destroying sensitive computer equipment for private companies. Their main sites were located in London, San Jose, and Tokyo. It was a cushy position that allowed to him to comfortably pay alimony for two ex-wives.
He’d just gotten out of happy hour with some coworkers and was about to have his usual evening massage at one of the “premium” spas he frequented. He was in his limo with three of his bodyguards. He called and made reservations at a new place his friends had constantly raved about called Kogarashi. He’d always thought it was way too expensive compared to his usual go-tos but he was feeling special tonight.
Deb Kepler was one of Morrison’s only female bodyguards. He kept her in his immediate circle often, specifically for these occasions. The spas did not allow men inside that were not paying customers. He and Deb checked into the lobby of a swanky office building and took the elevator to the ninth floor where Kogarashi was located. After a short waiting period in the lobby, the hostess told him which room would be his.
A big smile cracked across Morrison’s face when he was greeted by the sweetest-looking Japanese girl. Just an inch or so over five feet, she was miniature next to Morrison. Her hair was was styled in a fancy updo and secured with a red ribbon. She had large brown eyes and pure alabaster skin that glistened from the steam wafting in the spa room.
She was adjusting the towel wrapped around her torso that stopped at her upper thigh. It appeared to be the only thing she was wearing besides her wooden sandals. “Mr. Morrison?”
“And who might you be, beautiful?”
“I’m Rei. Please come in, sir.”
Her beautiful, unblemished skin bared one outlier. On the back of her right shoulder there was a tattoo, a red silhouette of a rabbit in profile. On her porcelain sheen, the rabbit looked like it was standing in a snow-covered plain.
“Your English is perfect,” Morrison commented as they walked into the steamy room.
“Thank you.”
He had to admit, so far, Kogarashi did seem nicer based on the elegant interior and furnishings but he wasn’t convinced on the price until he saw Rei. Damn if the girl wasn’t absolutely perfect. He knew all of the employees at these places were of legal age but Rei looked criminally young. He always had trouble guessing the ages of the women in this country.
It was softly lit inside. The floor was black marble and the walls were decorated with traditional tapestries. There were two massage tables spaced neatly in the center.
“May I undress you, sir?”
“Please do,” Morrison said with a chuckle.
Deb groaned to herself and walked to the corner of room and pretended to use her phone.
Deb, 30, had only been on Morrison’s security detail for six months but she was desperate to get out. The man was obnoxious and had a short temper. He was constantly yelling or getting upset by things like minor traffic or when an intern was late with a food or drink order. He mostly left the bodyguards alone but Deb still hated being around the guy.
She’d been on these trips with Morrison before. They had warned her about it during the job interview and she was a professional so she said as long as she wasn’t turning a blind eye to anything illegal she was fine with it. It didn’t make it any less awkward and she had the creeping suspicion the man got off on having another woman in the room while he did his business.
Rei had taken off all of Morrison’s clothes from the waist up. She knelt in front of him and undid his belt and pants then slid them down. Morrison wore boxers underneath and he was clearly erect.
From her suggestive position on her knees, Rei looked up at Morrison with a gasp, “Mr. Morrison! We haven’t even started yet.”
Deb threw up in her mouth a little.
“Please lay on the table. I’ll be right back,” Rei said.
Rei walked over to the far wall and slid it open, revealing it as a door. It rubbed Deb the wrong way but she let it go. She hadn’t realized there was a second area to the room. The Japanese girl returned with a wooden tray carrying lotions and oils.
Morrison was laying on the table with an elbow propping him up. His eyes never left Rei and he had a big, eager smile on his face. She set the tray down and stepped out of her sandals.
Rei placed a hand on her towel. She was demure, almost worried she’d offend, as she asked, “May I take this off?”
“Of course, don’t be shy, cutie.”
She let the towel drop and she stood bashfully averting her gaze from Morrison’s with her hands clasped behind her back. Drops of perspiration were beading on her slick skin. Her breasts were small but attractively round and taut. Rosy pink nipples stood attentively on their pale mounds. Morrison’s eyes passed over her flat stomach to her crotch. She wore white panties and the thin material had become wet and completely transparent from the steam, giving Morrison a good look at her hairless sex. It took all his power not to reach out and put his hands all over the girl right there.
“Do you like how I look?”
“Very much, very much,” Morrison chuckled excitedly. He was feeling extremely grateful that they had stopped to grab condoms on the way over.
Rei wore very little make up save for the gloss on her lips. She ran a finger over her bottom lip while looking Morrison over. She hesitated and glanced at Deb.
“Kepler, would you get the fuck out of here?” Morrison yelled, “Can’t you see I need some privacy?”
Deb had been trying to melt into the corner and ignore what was going on. She was suddenly alert now. “I need to keep you within sight range at all times, sir.”
“Just go in the next room or something. I’ll call if I need you.”
“Mr. Morrison — ”
“Now, damn it!”
Deb sighed and walked over to the sliding door Rei had used earlier. She decided she could wait there and check out the other room while she was at it. The other side had a counter running along the wall with chairs, mirrors, and makeup kits. Further down there were shower stalls and shelves with towels, robes, and massage supplies. It looked to be an employee area. Deb noticed all of the stalls were open except one at the end. They had talked to the hostess and had been told Rei would be the only employee in the room with Morrison.
She walked over and gave it gentle knock. “Excuse me, is there someone in there?
No response.
Deb’s intuition was gnawing at the back of her neck. It was locked and the stalls were too tall to look over and went to the floor so she couldn’t look underneath. She took out a pocket knife and slid it through the door seam so she could shimmy the sliding bolt mechanism.
The door popped open. A nude girl was suspended in the stall. Her bound wrists were above her and tied to the shower head. Her legs were spread in a V. Ropes held her ankles up in the corners of the stall. The girl’s eyes were glazed, she blinked lazily at Deb and made a low moaning noise. A ball of clothing was stuffed into her mouth and secured by another piece of cloth tied around her head.
Deb put one hand on the 9mm in her waistband holster. Her left hand moved to toggle the mic in her shirt cuff. She was suddenly swept to the ground. Her face hit the tiled floor hard and an arm was around her neck while she was pinned down from behind. She choked loudly, fighting for air.
“Go to sleep, Ms. Kepler. Shhh…that’s good,” Rei whispered.
Morrison groaned his temples were pounding. He tried to move his arms but could not. He was laying face down on the massage table. His arms were laid out above his head and tied down to the table. He found he couldn’t move his legs either. He turned his head and saw Deb crouched over a duffle bag on the ground.
“Kepler,” he groaned. “Kepler, what’s going on?”
The woman was not Kepler. She stood up, her back still facing Morrison. She was adjusting her blouse sleeves and tucking the blouse tails into her pants. Morrison craned his head. There was a naked woman suspended from the rafters.
It was Deb, completely stripped and hanging from several ropes. Smaller ropes weaved between her legs and buttocks, encircled her torso, and looped around her breasts to create a harness. Her wrists and ankles were bound to the harness so that she was locked in the fetal position with her hands behind her back. She hung face down, parallel to the floor with her long hair untied from its bun and hanging over her face.
The other woman finished adjusting Deb’s stolen clothes and turned to face Morrison. It was Rei. She picked up a katana blade from the duffle bag and drew it from its scabbard. She stood in front of Morrison, rolling her wrist and twirling the katana around. Her face was expressionless while she relished the look of terror in Morrison’s eyes.
“What is this…what the fuck is going on?”
“Mr. Morrison, you will stop making deliveries for the Ashida company effective immediately. We will follow up in one day. As punishment for your past partnership with Ashida, I’ll be taking compensation in the form of one of your hands to return to my client. Because I am in a considerate mood I will let you choose which hand you wish to keep.” Her voice was as soft as before only the tone was now flat and devoid of any soul.
Rei’s phone vibrated, rattling loudly on the wooden tray where she had left it. “Excuse me.”
“Mr. Crowe, It’s been too long,” Rei greeted.
“Likewise. I just wanted to check in on the Red Rabbit. How have you been?”
“Oh, just busy with work. How are you?” Rei sat in a leather recliner. She rested her katana against the wall and crossed her legs.
“Not good, actually, I’m sure you heard about Constance and India?”
“Mmmm,” Rei purred, she could vividly recall the delicious images that had been sent to her by Crowe’s office as a heads up. “Yes, it’s terrible. It looks like someone had some really strong feelings against them.”
“I wanted to ask about Miyamoto. Do you know if he was up to anything interesting…any business in California?”
“You think he did this? I know India and Miyamoto have a history but he wouldn’t kill her. Besides, I have a truce with Miyamoto,” Rei said. “I don’t get in his business and he doesn’t get in mine. I haven’t heard anything from him in a while.”
Deb had awoken and was screaming uselessly into her gag. She struggled in her binds and began oscillating weakly in the air. Rei didn’t give it a glance.
“What if I told you it appears Miyamoto is working under guidance from someone that was close to Lockhart?” Crowe asked.
That caught Rei’s attention. “What makes you think that?”
“Call it a hunch. Katrina is headed to Japan. I may send some backup with her. Could you keep an eye out for anything suspicious amongst the clans?”
Rei sighed. She couldn’t stand Katrina. “Of course, Mr. Crowe. You’ll be the first to know.”
“I’ll talk to you again soon.”
“Bye-bye.”
Rei returned to Morrison. “I apologize. That was rude of me. Now, which of your hands would you like to keep?”
***
The conference room projection screen showed a dozen artistic depictions of women stripped and strewn up in intricate webs of rope in various positions. April tapped the keyboard and brought up another with crime scene photos displaying dead or unconscious women displayed in the same fashion.
“These type of assassin clans can be traced back to 15th century Japan. Like the ninjas depicted in media and film, they specialized in stealth and deception. Often times they would infiltrate an enemy’s army by stealing uniforms to get access to targets higher in the hierarchy.
There is documented evidence of female sects within these groups that targeted the women that their male counterparts refused to kill out of a sense of chivalry or pride. These women could infiltrate palaces by stealing the uniforms of maids, servants, or the appointed staff members.
Fast forward to today where we have hundreds of unsolved cases that mirror these types of assassinations occurring over the last thirty years, a sharp spike in the last decade.”
April scanned across the audience. It was eighty percent male. Most were from local Japanese law enforcement and intelligence branches. Those that did not speak English wore headsets providing translation. All of them were older than she was. She went into the next part of her presentation with a new set of slides.
“The art of Kinbaku, a type of rope bondage that became popular in Japan following the Second World War, seems to have heavily influenced what we see executed by these clans. It’s largely regarded as a type of pornography today by the mainstream but notice the similarities between the poses used in Kinbaku and what we see here in our crime scenes. Identical binds and poses are used in multiple instances.
It should be noted that there is a power dynamic by the ‘rope artist.’ In this case the power on display is from the perpetrator. We often find objects placed in the victim’s mouth, vagina, or anus. This could be simply an act of domination or a show of force but it’s often times symbolic in an act of retribution.”
An hour later, April strode out of the conference room with her hands buried in the pockets of her long wool coat and her messenger bag over her shoulder. She wore skinny slacks and fashionable ankle boots as she headed down one of the glass skyways that weaved between the two main buildings. CIA Branch Chief Suzanne Birch was leaning on a railing. She put her phone away to wave at April.
“Hey-hey,” April greeted.
“How was the briefing?”
“Horrendous — I get the feeling everyone is just daydreaming and fully hard while I talk about bondage and the dynamics of a dom-sub relationship.”
“I’m sure all of the porn in your PowerPoint presentation also helps.”
“Oh, good, I was worried they were imagining me in all those scenarios.”
“Well, you should be worried, they’re definitely imagining you in those scenarios but I’m sure they’re capable of learning from your presentation and being fully hard.”
“Fantastic.”
“Enjoy it while it lasts, kiddo. I would love to turn that many heads at my age. Plus, if the CIA thing doesn’t work out at least you can always fall back on teaching.”
“Alright, what are we doing for lunch?”
April Grant, 25, had been recruited by the CIA out of college as an analyst. She worked on a forensics team while she pursued her PhD. Her published analysis focused on the correlation between historical assassin cults and what she perceived as their modern day evolution in the form of bizarre, unsolved cases. It was enough to catch Suzanne’s eye.
Suzanne had been one of the chiefs in the CIA’s Japan office for the last seven years. She summoned April a year ago to help investigate a number of mysteriously killed CIA assets that fit right into April’s area of expertise. The cases were a pet project of Suzanne’s, she had been approved to follow these under the radar while attending to her other typical branch duties. No resources would be provided to investigate ‘bondage killings’ that the agency felt was a local matter. As far as these cases, went it was just Suzanne and April in the loop.
At the age of 50, Suzanne had been in the intelligence community longer than April had been alive. She saw the potential in the young analyst and had not only been April’s boss but her mentor as well.
Lunch was at an upscale restaurant in the heart of Tokyo. It was crowded and the ladies just managed to get a corner table overlooking the city below.
“So I have a confession to make,” Suzanne said.
“I’m not paying for this. This fancy restaurant was your idea. I wanted ramen.”
Suzanne laughed. Her eyes were focused on something on her phone when she casually said, “Remember India Adams, the woman that worked for the Fallon Defense Group we investigated a while back? She’s dead.”
April froze, staring at Suzanne until her boss looked up at her and gave a little smirk and continued, “A pull on some of her recent cell data shows she was making calls and texts to Japan for the last two weeks before she died. What number do you think I noticed from that report?”
“Miyamoto.”
Suzanne nodded and discreetly slid the phone to April. “And then there was this.”
April turned the phone over, her expression composed, and slid it back as if Suzanne had shown her a slightly amusing text. “I recognize that handiwork. Why ‘traitor?’”
Suzanne shrugged. “Maybe India worked for someone over here at some point.”
“We’ve been looking at Miyamoto this whole time and haven’t been able to find anything substantial.”
“We’re close, kiddo. I know we’re looking in the right place. This India thing might stir up activity locally. We just have to keep our eyes and ears open.”
***
A week and a half after taking care of India, Lexi and Nigel arrived in Japan, smuggled into the country via cargo plane. No passports or paper trail would indicate they had ever traveled. There were special private plane services but Nigel was being very frugal with the spending money now.
With India’s laptop and phone, Nigel’s reliable tech contacts returned several communications between India and someone named Miyamoto or someone that seemed to at least work for Miyamoto. India was also often in contact with another person codenamed ‘Red Rabbit’ just over the last week.
They boldly reached out to the ‘Miyamoto’ email address and let them know that India had been taken care of by them. They simply gave Lexi’s first name as identification and stated they wished to talk about India and Alden Crowe. After a few days they received an address for an office building in Saitama, Japan, and negotiated a time and day.
Lexi’s pixie cut had grown out a bit, almost to the length of a bob, but she still kept the sides and back short. In Meredith’s suit, her silhouette looked eerily similar to the expired exec. She also wore Meredith’s old heels and necklace. Nigel sat with her in the rental parked across the street from rundown-looking office building. It looked abandoned but there were clearly cars parked outside.
“This isn’t a hit. There’s no reason I can’t tag along.”
“I need you to stay hidden. If they think I’m working alone we can use that to our advantage.”
Nigel gave a deep sigh. He held out a skinny watch obviously meant for a women’s wrist.
“Is it my birthday or something?’
“Press and hold the face down for three seconds if you need help. I won’t go kicking the door down but I at least want to know if something’s gone wrong. I won’t intervene unless absolutely necessary.”
Lexi hesitated but took the watch and put it on. “Thanks, Nigel. Where do you keep getting all these wonderful toys?”
“My friends, or rather former friends, in British intelligence keep in touch. Are you really just going to walk in there?”
“What’s the worst that can happen?” Lexi said dryly.
“You get drugged and hauled off to uncertain torture or murder.”
“That’s what this handy rape whistle watch is for.”
“That’s the spirit.”
Lexi put on her sunglasses and walked to the building. There were some cameras but strangely no security to be found anywhere. The lobby was modest with just a sofa and a couple of guest chairs in the waiting area. There was a woman tending to the front desk. Lexi’s Japanese skills were marginal at best but all of their communications with Miyamoto were in English so she assumed she’d be fine.
“Excuse me, I have a one o’clock meeting with Mr. Miyamoto.”
“One moment.” The front desk woman got on a phone and had a quick back and forth. She looked back up at Lexi and smiled. “Please take the elevator to the fourth floor.”
“Any room number?”
“Fourth floor, please.” The woman insisted.
“Sure, thanks so much.”
That was easy, Lexi thought. She got off the elevator into an empty office space. Where there would be an array of cubicles there were none, just a large vacant room missing patches of carpet and locked-up office doors around the perimeter, devoid of any furniture. Several of the ceiling tiles were out revealing insulation and wiring. One of the doors opened and four women walked in dressed in black office attire. They were trailed by an older woman dressed the same but in red.
“Lexi?” One of the younger women asked.
“Yes?”
All at once, the four women drew handguns on Lexi.
“Ohhhhh…poop,” Lexi muttered.
The older woman in red spoke in Japanese.
“This is Madam Hirata. I’m Sakura.” The girl speaking looked to be the youngest in the room and had perfect English. “Are you law enforcement, CIA?”
“No.”
“Who are you with?”
“I was a friend of the Lockhart family.”
Hirata spoke a single phrase. Sakura nodded and looked at Lexi, “Take your clothes off, miss.”
Lexi almost laughed. It was odd that this suit had to be removed at gunpoint twice now. She slipped the jacket off, dropped it to the floor, and removed the camisole after to reveal her black strapless bra. She undid her fly and gave the pants a simple push. They dropped effortlessly around her ankles and the room got a good look at the thong she was wearing.
Hirata muttered something Sakura responded. There was no translation.
“That’s a beautiful necklace.”
“Thank you.”
“Please, take off everything,” Sakura added with a gesture of her gun.
Lexi unclasped her bra and let it fall down her arms then slipped her thong off and stepped out of the pile of clothes bunched around feet. She stood patiently with her hands folded over her shaven mound wearing only her heels.
“Put your hands on the table over here, miss. I’m going to search you.”
She did as told and Sakura nudged Lexi’s feet apart. Sakura put on a pair of latex gloves while another girl was patting down the pile of clothes. Lexi cleared her throat as she felt fingers probe her sex. Sakura held out the little razor coated in rubber that Lexi had hidden.
“That’s for emergencies,” Lexi said a little embarrassed.
Sakura placed it on the table and went back behind Lexi to check one last orifice. Lexi’s eyes widened. “HEY! Warn a girl first!”
Sakura said something to Hirata and then said to Lexi, “You may get dressed now.”
After she was clothed again, they led Lexi down a hall to a plain room with a table and two chairs. They instructed her to take a seat and Sakura waited in the corner of the room in Lexi’s blindspot.
Ten minutes later, a man entered. He looked to be at least 60. He wore an immaculate suit and tie and was slight of build, probably the same height as Lexi. His hair was thinning and his face looked like he’d lived a stressful life. Lexi and the man exchanged bows.
“Good evening. I’m Mr. Miyamoto but please just call me George.”
“Lexi. Nice to meet you, George.”
“I apologize about the security. You have to be careful these days.”
“Sure, you never know who’s sneaking around.”
Miyamoto took the opposite seat and took out a cigarette. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all.”
“I was an acquaintance of Katya and Leonard Lockhart. How do you know them?”
“I’m their daughter..their other daughter.”
Miyamoto nodded, not showing the slightest bit of surprise. “Hmm, so they had another daughter. You took care of India and now you’re looking for Alden Crowe? Thank you, by the way, she was becoming a big headache.”
“The pleasure was all mine. What was your relationship with India?”
“India used to work for Crowe. My clan and a few others got into a territory war with him. We called for a truce after our resources could no longer sustain the fight. Part of the agreement forbid operating in each others’ territory. India apparently thought that truce applied to her after she left Crowe’s employment. That’s where our disagreement began.”
“And who’s Red Rabbit?”
Miyamoto examined the ash tray a long moment before saying, “Another former employee of Crowe’s.”
“Do you know where Alden Crowe is?”
“He runs a private military company called Blue Ocean Global but you won’t find his name on any company documentation or find Blue Ocean listed on public databases. No one has seen Crowe in years unless he wanted them to. He was two daughters in the business hiding in plain sight. Gianna and Isabel Boni, aliases of course.”
“What do you know about my family?”
“That depends on what you want to know. I’m what you call a collector of information. Deciding what can be shared safely is a skill I have that has kept me alive for a long time, long for this business anyway.”
“I need to know who was involved in the deaths of Lucy, Katya, and Leonard Lockhart and where to find them.”
“Crowe, obviously. India Adams and Constance Delpy captured your sister for Crowe, both are dead now. Meredith Downes spied on your mother and father for several years while working as their assistant, providing Crowe with intel, also dead.”
“I know all of this.”
“Of course, of course.” Miyamoto nodded and flicked his ash in the tray. “Do you know Katrina Reinhardt?”
She shook her head.
“They call her the Killer Queen. Besides Lucy, she was your father’s best student. She ambushed your mother and delivered her to Crowe to kill. She’s the leader of all of Crowe’s operatives now. I can’t tell you much more than that but I know a place that might be very useful for your needs.”
“I’m listening.”
“There’s a data archive in Tokyo operated by an IT company called Gamma Sun. It’s a server farm holding files, cell phone data, security footage, and emails. There are over one-hundred servers in the facility but I know exactly which machines are holding what you want.”
“How do you know that?”
“I used to own them. Meredith commandeered them from us during the clan war. I can help you retrieve them if you’re willing to help me with my own dilemma.”
“I bet I can get in there myself.”
“There’d be no time for you to individually search each machine to find what you’re after. It would take dozens of hours even if you had a general idea of where to start.”
“Ok, that part sounds problematic. What can I help you with?”
“The CIA has been monitoring us for the past year, severely limiting our operations. They seem to think we’re responsible for the deaths of several of their local informants and at least one CIA officer. Their primary investigator is a woman named April Grant.”
“I’m not killing anyone that works for the CIA.”
“You don’t need to kill anyone. I simply need you to give them a message, scare them if you have to. We’re not the clan they should be after.”
“You can’t do this on your own?”
“Yes, but it would be very risky. You’re new to this scene. Think of it more as proof of good will.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“I respected your parents. We exchanged students to share our knowledge of the arts but we were far from friends. How about this: we can help you get the information you want first. If you are unhappy with what we find, you can forget about April.”
“Ok, George. It’s a deal.”
“Good, I’ll make some calls. We might be able to arrange something in the next two days if not tonight. Sakura will be here to assist you with anything you need while you’re in Japan. We can provide lodging at our estate outside of the city.”
Lexi turned and the Japanese girl nodded politely.
“Sakura is one of my most trusted and reliable employees. To stay on the side of caution, I recommend your lineage remains known to only the people in this room.”
“Good idea,” Lexi agreed.
Outside, Lexi took a moment alone to call Nigel and give him an update. She was going to head out with Sakura and check out the accommodations. She’d provide a location once she got her bearings. Nigel would stay incognito at the motel, a shady place Nigel had selected that accepted cash payment. At some point Lexi would need to get her things from there. All she had on her was Meredith’s clothes and what she could fit in a purse.
Sakura was twenty-one with an outgoing and bubbly energy despite her line of work. She unraveled her long black hair from its bun once they got outside and pulled a pair of sunglasses out of her breast pocket. Once they had left the building, her demeanor changed from the professional stoicism she showed earlier.
“Sorry about the rude welcome. Like Mr. Miyamoto said, we need to be very careful these days.”
“It’s cool. Did you grow up here?”
“I was born here but I spent a lot of time in the UK. Have you ever been to Japan?”
“Once when I was very little, which I don’t remember, and one other time when I was older but I was just here with my dad on business. I mean he was on business. I just sat in a hotel.”
They walked out to the parking lot where Sakura’s car was. It was the latest iteration of the Mazda Miata, a rear-wheel-drive, open-top roadster. The black compact was a two-seater, low on pure power but quick and nimble. Some kind of plush cartoon animal hung from the rearview mirror.
“Are you hungry? Dinner is on me,” Sakura said.
“You got to third base with me and all I get is dinner?”
“Take it or leave it.”
They stopped by a modest place that, despite it’s appearance, had some very good food. They were served bento boxes and sat on a patio under an umbrella. There were only a few other groups of diners but that was enough to make the small eatery feel cramped.
Sakura talked about traveling and living in Japan, noticeably avoiding any personal details or talk about work. She played with some of her vegetable tempura and asked Lexi in a lowered voice, “Are you really Lockhart’s daughter?”
“Why?”
“It’s just that, in the office with Mr. Miyamoto, you asked about the Red Rabbit. I thought you should know. Her name is Rei Minami, she was part of Crowe’s coup.”
“Another student of my father’s?”
“Well, sort of, Miyamoto took us in around the same time. We were both orphans. We were like best friends back then. She had…difficulties. Miyamoto sent her to train with your father. He thought your father could help her.”
“Miyamoto didn’t want me to know that?”
“Not exactly, we don’t kill our own unless we have no other choice. It’s an unofficial rule for us. Those two don’t like each other but I guess Miyamoto feels like it would be dishonorable to give her up to you.” Sakura uncomfortably wrung her hands. “You were going to find out about her sooner or later. I didn’t want you to think we were deceiving you for malicious reasons.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Outside of the business with Rei, no. Mr. Miyamoto wants Alden Crowe out of the picture as soon as possible. A lot of local clans we’ve had longstanding wars with sided with Crowe as soon as he took the company from your father. If Crowe is your enemy, we are definitely your allies.”
A text chimed on Sakura’s phone. She read it and smiled. “Good news. It looks like we’re moving tonight. The girls are already getting ready.”
***
They called it the temple based on an ancient Buddhist shrine nearby that had been destroyed in a storm decades before. The estate was built on a ridge overlooking the ruins. It was a multi-tiered mansion encircling a large, artificial pond. The design was based on traditional Japanese architecture using modern materials. Lexi and Sakura arrived late in the afternoon and parked in a gravel lot with some other cars. They hiked up a long dirt path leading to the front court.
“You can stay here while you’re in the country.”
“Do you live here?”
“We all have places in the city but anyone is welcome in and out of here as they please. For occasions like this, it works as a staging area.”
They walked past a garden filled with blue flowers. Sakura noticed Lexi looking and told her, “Don’t touch or smell those. They’re poisonous.”
“Are you joking?”
“No, they’re for a project we’re working on. Come on, the ladies should be in the dojo.”
“You might want a sign there or something…”
They traveled through the halls and entered a large room with a padded floor. There were two dozen women inside sparring in pairs. The group was multi-ethnic, aged 20-30, but mostly natives of Japan. One of the women shouted a command in Japanese and they fell into formation as four lines of six. The women wore black leotards and neck gaiters pulled up to their noses as masks.
Sakura sighed. “Mr. Miyamoto likes to show off with theatrics whenever we have guests.”
“Holy crap, you have a ninja squad.” Lexi stared in awe.
“We don’t call ourselves that but sure,” Sakura said. “This is Yumi, Miyamoto’s captain.”
Lexi shook hands with a broad-shouldered Japanese woman of above average height who looked to be in her early thirties. She had a bob cut swept back with a hair band. She pulled her mask down to reveal her face. They exchanged bows and then shook hands.
Yumi’s accented voice was as strong as her appearance,“It’s a pleasure to have you joining us. Miss?”
“Lexi,” Sakura answered for her.
Yumi cocked her head towards the next room. “Come, we have a lot to show you.”
There was gear set up on several tables in the next room. It looked to be a normal den or dining area that had been cleared out. Lexi took a lap around the tables and leaned over the various gadgets like she was in a museum.
“I’ve never seen most of this stuff,” Lexi said.
Sakura patted her on the shoulder. “It’s time to step your game up.”
One table had knives, tools, and syringes. Lexi noticed black ball gags. They looked more utilitarian and less like the bondage accessories Lexi purchased in the states. Sakura picked up a little pistol that resembled a hot glue gun. The grip was thick and round. She held it out for Lexi to see.
“A CO2 cartridge is inside the handle, good for 30 shots. High pressure sends the fluid through the skin with no needle or marks.” Sakura pulled the slide back revealing the inside of the loading breech. “Toxin capsules are loaded in here, one per shot, obviously. It takes your standard red, blue, purple, and green capsules. Place on an artery, preferably the neck for best results, and fire. Hold your hand out.”
Lexi looked at Sakura, incredulous. Sakura smiled. “Put your hand out.”
Lexi did so and Sakura showed her the breech was empty before closing it. She pressed the gun tip against Lexi’s palm and fired. There was a hiss of air and it felt like someone flicked her skin.
“They don’t feel a thing and it’s much faster than a syringe. You don’t have to worry about keeping the target steady or breaking needles,” Sakura said.
“That’s wicked.” Lexi held one of the injectors up. It might not have been as concealable as a syringe but it was a nifty tool.
“Just make sure you look at the capsules carefully before loading them. They all look identical except for the toxin code on the outside. We actually mark them with ink sometimes to make it more obvious.” Sakura moved on. “Look here. I know you’re a Kinbaku fan.”
Lexi was not familiar with the whole origin but the Lockharts, and many companies like theirs, had been influenced by the Japanese bondage art and applied it to their craft. Sakura showed Lexi a table where there were a few Kinbaku harnesses made of ropes, some plain and some in black or red.
Sakura picked one of the webs of ropes up and held it against Lexi’s body like she was checking to see how it would look on her. “Do you know how to use one of these?”
“It’s been a while. I’m just usually too lazy to prep them and I don’t like packing all that rope.”
“They’re fun,” Sakura said with a shrug.
Sakura moved to a table of electronics. Lexi could recognize a smaller version of the brick she used to duplicate badges. There were some fiber optic cameras as well.
“These ear pieces are radios, nothing special there. Check this out.” Sakura picked up a plain black cellphone. “Can I see your phone?”
Lexi gave it to her. Sakura tapped Lexi’s screen and the typical locked screen message appeared. She held the black phone face to face with it while holding down a button on the side. There was a tiny chime. Sakura moved the black phone and showed Lexi’s screen was unlocked.
Lexi grinned. “Neat.”
“It works most of the time depending on the security of the phone.”
Nigel would love that, Lexi thought.
“Let’s get ready,” Yumi said. “It’ll take some time to drive into the city. We’ll wait there until it’s dark.”
They entered another smaller room where there were black catsuits with pink trim hanging on racks.
“Do I get one of those?” Lexi asked.
“Of course. You can’t wear that pant suit on a raid. Plus, these totally make your boobs look bigger,” Sakura said.
They were joined by six other women that Yumi had pre-selected for the mission. Yumi singled out two, an African and a European, Janette and Ingrid, respectively.
“These are my lieutenants,” Yumi said. “Janette has been with me the longest of anyone here.”
“Have you ever been on a raid before?” Janette asked Lexi.
“I can’t say that I have.”
“Oh, it’s great fun.”
“Where are you from, Lexi?” Ingrid asked.
“She’s from America. Leave it at that,” Sakura said.
Ingrid cocked an eyebrow. “Hmm, top secret.”
“I was going to say you look very familiar,” Yumi said. “I guess if I asked ‘where have I seen you before’ you wouldn’t tell me.”
“Miyamoto’s orders,” Sakura said.
The women undressed and switched into the catsuits. They came in three sizes and were made from a spandex-like wetsuit material that zipped from the crotch up. They were built snug and comfortably stretched to accommodate their hosts. The feet were part of the suit and the soles were rubber so no footwear was required. They slipped their neck gaiters on last.
Lexi sat with Sakura on a bench and noticed two white sticks next to her.
“Are these a new type of syringe?” Lexi examined one of the white sticks.
“No, they’re just for my hair,” Sakura took it from Lexi. Sakura wrapped her hair up and stuck the two sticks in to hold it in place.
“Oh, cute.”
Before they headed back to the main planning room, Yumi and some of the other girls grabbed katanas from a rack on the wall. They wore these with a strap over their shoulders.
“You don’t actually use those do you?” Lexi said.
“We train with them but mostly for tradition and sport. I don’t think any of us have actually used one in the field unless it was an emergency,” Sakura said.
“Each of us has a personal sword. If it’s not inherited or gifted we customize our own,” Yumi said.
“Everyone in my family was into them. I didn’t really get much experience with these before they…” Lexi stopped herself.
Yumi had been listening and politely acted as if Lexi hadn’t said anything. She glossed over it. “Let’s take a look at the plans.”
On a large table were blueprints and layouts of the data center. Janette pointed at one that showed a cutaway of the building’s exterior. “First floor is security. It’s a basic civilian company contracted by Gamma Sun. The guards are responsible for the security of the building except for the server floors. They should be operating on a skeleton staff. The second floor is amenities; cafeteria, gym, rec room, etcetera. We have no interest there. The next two levels are support and non-IT units. These will be empty for the night and locked down. Fifth floor is the IT branch. The four floors above that are all server floors.”
Ingrid took over. “The security for the server areas are handled by the Ito Clan.”
“We’ve had a long history with them,” Yumi said. She and Janette traded grins.
Ingrid went on, “Our key to everything is this maintenance stairwell that runs from the basement and up to the first floor of the server room. The servers rooms are only accessible from the maintenance stairwell through this door. That means no elevator access. The server rooms are accessible by IT staff or Ito members only. Breaching the door will set off an alarm.
We’ll start on the security floor, secure uniforms, move to IT, identify personnel with the correct level of access, and use them to get to the servers. We’re only concerned with the first two server floors. Once we’re in there, we won’t know how many of Ito’s girls will be working. It’s very possible we’ll need to abort if it’s too risky.”
Lexi pored over the layouts. “You all put this together in a few hours?”
“This isn’t our first time in the datacenter,” Yumi said. “And we’ve had another raid planned for a while now. Miyamoto was on the fence about it but it looks your arrival has revived his interest.”
“How do we get in?”
“That’s the best part,” Janette said. She pushed aside all the papers and showed a layout for a parking garage. “This garage is not for the datacenter employees. It’s for the office building on the corner belonging to one of our clients. However, it shares a wall with the maintenance stairwell. When Miyamoto still owned the datacenter twenty years ago, he had this fake air duct built from the garage to the stairwell. On Gamma Sun’s blueprints, they think it’s a normal ventilation duct going to the basement.”
“Whoa.”
Sakura smiled. “Cool, right?”
***
After 10 PM, when the Gamma Sun datacenter had switched to its overnight staff, Lexi and Sakura exited the two utility vans in the darkened parking garage next door. They were accompanied by Yumi and the team of six. The vans had deliberately parked at an angle to cover part of the wall. They located a specific section of steel paneling, popped off several bolts, and exposed a small duct that was just big enough to belly-crawl through.
Yumi was first. She crawled through with a rope tied to her ankle. Janette held the big spool of rope and unraveled it while Yumi moved. After a moment Yumi was on the radio. “Good here.”
The team strung up their packs and bags to Janette’s rope to form a chain and Yumi pulled all the gear through to the other side. The team followed one by one with Sakura and Lexi going last.
Sakura crouched down next to the duct. She turned and pointed at Lexi’s leg. “What happened there?”
There was a big tear on the thigh of her suit.
“Oh, crud,” Lexi muttered to herself angrily.
“Can I ask you something? What’s with the no cursing thing?”
“My mother never let me and my sister curse. We would try to come up with other words when our mom was around to crack each other up. It became a habit for me and I just kept doing it.”
“Oh.”
“Is that weird?”
“No, just sort of lame.”
Lexi flicked Sakura’s ear, “Get in there.”
On the other side, the stairwell was bigger than Lexi had thought it would be, a large silo design with a wide open center and stairs running along the wall. She could look straight up to see the top of the stairwell. Yumi and her team were already mostly geared up with their utility belts, thigh holsters, and backpacks. Janette and Ingrid volunteered to hit the security floor and took two others with them.
Using a fiber optic camera slipped underneath the stairwell door, they spied the corridor until they spotted a female guard doing her rounds. She was in her thirties with an average build. Her clothes would serve them well. When the guard passed, Ingrid slipped into the hall and stalked the guard closely, smoothly pressed an injector on her neck, and fired. The guard never knew anyone was behind her. Ingrid caught the collapsing body before it could hit the ground. She dragged her to an unlocked office and radioed for Janette and the others.
They made quick work of the guard’s uniform; a ball cap, white short-sleeve shirt, and black trousers with a gold stripe running down the hip. It was normal practice amongst the clans to strip their enemies completely even if their undergarments were not needed and the guard received no preferential treatment. One of the Japanese members accompanying Janette and Ingrid began to strip and trade her catsuit for the security uniform.
The guard’s radio burst to life with a man’s voice requesting a status check. The unconscious guard’s replacement wasn’t done dressing yet but she quickly replied on the radio in Japanese. “Nothing to report here.”
She snapped on the guard’s pistol belt and adjusted her tie. Janette helped her fix her collar and they sent her on her way. She found a small break room where there was another female guard settling down with her microwave meal. She sat down and prepared her utensils, not paying any mind to the fake guard that had entered the room behind her. She was put to sleep before she could take a bite.
Janette was summoned in with the others like before and they kept an eye on the corridor while the second guard uniform was stolen and swapped. This unconscious guard, younger than the first woman and a little thin, was unclothed and tied up. Janette and Ingrid took care of moving the bodies to the stairwell and they threw away the untouched microwave snack.
The two naked guards were passed over to the rest of Yumi’s team. They began tying ropes around them and arranging them to be suspended in the center of the stairwell.
Janette reported to Yumi, “We have two inside right now as security guards.”
“Good, tell them to find and secure the monitoring station. We’ll scrub everything when it’s time to go.”
***
Margaret Lowe, 38, had been in the tech industry since she graduated from Duke University. She had long, wavy, brownish hair. Her father was of Chinese descent and her mother German and Irish. She and her husband had moved to Japan ten years ago when her company offered her a highly profitable position.
She was one of the managers at the Gamma Sun datacenter. She had always been a night owl and didn’t mind being the designated overnight manager. Things were nice, quiet, and slow. On most nights, she could spend half of her shift online shopping.
Margaret wore a baggy wool sweater in burgundy and slim fitting khakis with heels. She was doing a lap on the IT floor.
“Dave, can you run those diagnostics for units 25 through 35 on the third floor again?”
“I did it when I got in. Everything is looking good except that warning that keeps popping up on 28. The guys from the last shift flagged it and said it looks benign.”
“Run it again. I told you I don’t want those third floor units touched before 11. I want to see the diagnostics on a fresh cycle.”
“Sure, can I run them a little later? I’m working on that thing for the fourth floor units.”
“Run it now. I’m going to check in an hour and those diagnostics better not still be running.”
She walked off and checked on two more of the techs on the floor before retreating to her office. She was doing a redesign on her bathroom at home and was browsing a selection of tiles on her computer. She hadn’t sat down for two minutes when there was a knock at the door.
She minimized the online store from her desktop. “Come in.”
A bookish Japanese girl with big glasses leaned in carrying four coffee cups in cardboard takeout tray. She was short and slightly chubby. Her hair was long with bangs. “Hi, Mrs. Lowe.”
“How many times do I have to say it’s just ‘Margaret,’ Tomoko?” Margaret was fluent in Japanese and she spoke to Tomoko in the native tongue.
“Oh. Sorry, Margaret. I didn’t know if you wanted regular or decaf or if you wanted non-dairy or dairy creamer. So this cup is regular with dairy creamer. This is regular with non-dairy creamer. This is decaf — ”
Margaret cut her off, “If someones says get me a coffee with cream, you can assume they mean regular unless they specify otherwise. Also, just save yourself the trouble and bring the creamers and sugars separately. Did you finish the inventory of the new drives on the second floor like I asked?”
“I started it but Atsuo told me to hold off until he was done testing them.”
“Atsuo is not your boss. I am. Please go finish those now.”
“Oh, ok.” Tomoko disappeared through the door before popping back in five seconds later. “How many creamers and how many sugars should I bring?”
“Tomoko, leave.”
“Sorry.” The spectacled girl disappeared again.
Tomoko was a nice girl, hard-working and very smart, but she always was asking Margaret to double-check everything she did or screwing things up that didn’t involve working directly on a computer. The day manager apparently couldn’t stand her either because he dumped Tomoko onto Margaret’s shift just a week earlier.
Margaret sipped her over-sweetened coffee grumpily and reopened the bathroom design website.
***
Tomoko hummed to herself while she walked to the maintenance stairwell. She wore a company polo, loose jeans, and sneakers. The super-cooled server rooms were always freezing so she had her hooded sweatshirt in hand.
She was a college student and had gotten the job through a special program her school had with Gamma Sun. She’d been there six months and liked it a lot, especially since she had been rejected by a dozen other companies during her job search.
Unfortunately, she was now on the overnight shift and she had trouble handling the irregular schedule and her school obligations. She was soldiering on and still adjusting but she wasn’t sure if it would work out in the long run.
Everyone talked about how Margaret Lowe was the strictest of the managers and Tomoko experienced it firsthand on her new shift. She felt nervous around the manager and seemed to always make more mistakes because of it.
She was trying to go over the inventory process in her head when she entered the stairwell and gasped. Four figures in dark clothing surrounded her and grabbed at her limbs. She was far from athletic and would be no match for one attacker let alone a group. Identifying her as not one to put up a fight, they didn’t bother choking or sedating her. Tomoko was surprised so quickly that her polo shirt had already been removed and a gag placed into her mouth before she understood what was happening.
They bent Tomoko over and pulled her pants and underwear down to her ankles. The young woman pleaded with her assailants, pointless with the ball in between her jaws. They responded by cutting her bra off and wrapping her body in ropes. She made a squeaking sound as another rope was fed between her legs and pulled taut between her buttocks, completing the harness.
One of Yumi’s girls was already running more ropes from a web she created at the top of the stairwell where the two unconscious guards were hanging in hogtied poses. She tossed the ropes down to the others so they could secure them to Tomoko’s harness and feet. The girl was raised into the air. They adjusted the ropes and tied them to railings and whatever solid anchor points they could find. Tomoko still had her sneakers on and they began removing these from her dangling feet. All of this was done in barely a minute.
Lexi sat on the railing with Sakura and stared at the scene below, mesmerized.
“What’s wrong?”
“I never seen a whole team operate before. It’s so efficient.”
Tomoko was suspended face up with her legs spread wide by separate ropes. She was red-faced and trying to protest through the gag with a look of both humiliation and confusion.
Janette passed Tomoko’s things to Sakura. “Your new clothes.”
“Thank you.”
“One sec,” Janette said. She moved back up the stairs to get on Tomoko’s level. She hopped up to one of the railings and reached towards Tomoko’s face. The girl whimpered and turned away but Janette was only interested in Tomoko’s glasses. She tapped a finger on Tomoko’s nose. “Relax. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”
Janette tossed the glasses to Lexi while Sakura was busy undressing. Once Sakura was in Tomoko’s loose-fitting clothes, Lexi handed the glasses over to complete the look.
“I like wearing glasses. They make me look cute.” Sakura put them on but removed them instantly. “Oof, her prescription is too strong. I can’t wear these.”
“Wait I got something for that.” Lexi rummaged in her backpack and produced a pair of plain glasses with fake lenses.
“Cool, I’m glad we brought you along.”
“Yay, I contributed.”
Sakura put the glasses on. “Does it look like I work with computers?”
“It doesn’t ‘not’ look like you work with computers.”
“Good enough.”
“Will that work?” Ingrid pointed at Sakura’s new badge.
“It will get us in there and let us work on some of the systems but I think I need a manager’s badge too,” Sakura said.
“We’ll worry about that later.”
They prepared to head to the servers with Tomoko’s badge and clothes in their possession. They checked in with their security guards to get an update on the camera situation. One of them had made it inside the monitoring room.
“I found something interesting on the cameras here.” The guard said.
“What is it?” Yumi asked.
“It looks like Heidi Konig is on the second floor server room.”
A smile spread on Yumi’s face. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Heidi is one of the Ito Clan’s top captains,” Ingrid said to Lexi. “Very high on our wish list.”
Yumi continued on the radio. “There isn’t an IT manager on the floor is there?”
“Hold…yes, Margaret Lowe. She looks like she’s in her office right now. Caucasian, possibly mixed race, thirties.”
“Ok, we may need her. We’ll let you know.”
They entered the first floor of the server room and left behind one team member to guard the stairwell. There were seemingly endless aisles of the tall, black, bookshelf-like cases storing the computers. The walls, ceilings, and floors were in white tile. It was freezing, dimly lit, and the loud hum of cooling machines made it so anything quieter than a raised speaking voice could not be heard.
Yumi signaled the others to split off. Lexi and Sakura followed Yumi in the opposite direction to do a patrol of the room. Sakura spotted one of the Ito guards. They wore similar suits like Miyamoto’s team except theirs were a dark purple, nearly black, with yellow trim. This guard had a utility belt on and a thigh holster.
Sakura ventured down the aisle alone while the other two took a separate aisle. The guard and Sakura approached from opposite ends. In Tomoko’s clothes, Sakura was merely given a courteous nod. When they began to pass each other, Sakura swept the Ito girl’s legs out with a kick and fired her injector against her neck.
A second guard appeared just in time to see Sakura finishing. She began to draw her sidearm on Sakura but Yumi was immediately behind her. She shot the guard in the neck and let her sleeping body hit the floor.
Ingrid and Janette came around with another pair of captured Ito girls walking with their hands up. Both were already biting down on ball gags strapped to their faces. One was Asian, didn’t seem to be Japanese, and the other European.
“These two didn’t even put up a fight,” Ingrid said.
“Ugh, rookies,” Sakura observed. “Ito is so sloppy with her recruitment these days.”
Janette pulled her pistol out and gestured to the two prisoners. “Clothes off, now.”
The Ito girls were distracted by the sight of their two unconscious comrades being stripped by Lexi and Sakura. They knew better than to protest and removed their neck gaiters and belts before unzipping their catsuits and pushing them off their shoulders. They pulled their feet free of the suits with some effort before they stood only wearing their sports bras and underwear.
“Underwear too, girls,” Janette snapped. “Your dignity stopped being a factor a while ago.”
The prisoners looked at each other unhappily but proceeded to remove their undergarments.
Sakura looked the naked girls over and surmised, “They can’t be too far out of high school.”
“Ito just puts anyone out on the frontlines, huh?” Janette said. “Tie them up and put them with the others.”
With four suits in their possession. They had enough for the whole team, excluding the girls who were holding things down on the security floor. Sakura remained in Tomoko’s clothes and they were saving Lexi for the manager.
They tied up the naked prisoners and stripped down to don their newly acquired outfits. They swapped their earpieces for the ones the Ito girls had been wearing to listen in on the enemy communications. Sakura and Lexi had their original earpieces and were responsible for the transmissions for Yumi’s team.
Sakura took a tablet computer out from Janette’s bag. They had all of the targeted servers marked. Three were on their floor and two on the floor above. She was no tech whiz but several of the girls had been trained to do this specific task and ran through it several times as practice in a computer lab owned by one of Miyamoto’s partners.
Everything was done through a software interface and the preconfigured tablet pc took care of going around Gamma Sun’s security protocols.
“We can unlock all these machines from here and set them to transfer their data to these hard drives we brought,” Sakura explained. “Sometimes we can do everything from here but the higher security systems require the transfer to be initiated from the manager’s desktop.”
“Let me guess…” Lexi started.
“We’ll grab the manager in a second,” Yumi assured. “Let’s secure the next floor first.”
Lexi pointed her thumb at the four Ito women on the ground. “You don’t want to add these to the collection in the stairwell?”
“We’re taking them with us. Miyamoto has a location where he keeps people of interest. We can always use them to trade to other clans for favors or trade them back to Ito if they have something we want.”
“How many people do you have stored out there?”
“You’d be surprised how shaky people’s loyalty can be. A lot of the ones that aren’t traded are persuaded to join our side. Miyamoto relocates them, of course. Let’s go. If Heidi is up there I want that German bitch to myself.”
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Character limit maxed. Chapter continued in next post below.