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As Mallet and Tiger left Ladder's office, a man broke off his
conversation with Ladder's aide.
"I'm Ame. You call me Rain," the man said. "You're Mallet
and Tiger. Follow me."
As Rain turned and walked out the door, Tiger glanced at
Mallet. "They don't waste time here," Tiger said. "I like that."
"Oh, I have a feeling you're going to fit right in," Mallet
replied as they trailed Rain. "Our guide could be you just a
few years from now. You're both in peak condition and have
no-nonsense attitudes."
"Perfect assets for a secret agent," Rain said over his
shoulder as he stopped in front of a pair of doors. "We've
already heard how the amazing Tiger scored the highest of
any initiate during his field trials and how he's going to be the
best operative in Kagehito history."
"He did very well," Mallet said. "But you don't have to
worry about him being conceited."
Rain gave Mallet another look over his shoulder as he
opened one of the doors. "I wondered what you were doing
here. So you're an interpreter. Does Tiger speak at all?"
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"I'm not particularly good with words," Tiger said.
Rain smiled unexpectedly. "Not a problem. That's what
Feathers are for." He pushed the other door open. "Welcome
to headquarters."
The three men passed through an empty room with lots of
chairs around a long table and entered a slightly smaller room
filled with electronics equipment and multiple screens of
varying sizes.
"This is Tanpopo, our intelligence expert. You call him
Dandelion," Rain said as a young man looked up from his
keyboard.
"I prefer Lion, but everyone calls me Dandy. I know who
you are."
"You already have your second calling," Tiger said. "I
noticed you have a monkey paw and feather tattoos."
"Yeah, and I have this great job that lets me be both."
Tiger's brows drew together at the faint mocking tone in
Dandy's voice, and Rain spoke before the conversation could
go any further.
"My office is this way."
"May I ask you something?" Tiger said when Rain closed
his office door.
Rain sighed as he sat in the chair behind the desk. "That's
what people say when they're about to ask a very personal,
embarrassing question. Go ahead," he said, gesturing
impatiently for Tiger and Mallet to sit down. "And you don't
have to use your formal manners around here."
"I was wondering what's wrong with your arm," Tiger said.
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"What makes you think there's anything wrong with either
of my arms?"
"You favor your right. Not much, but you do things with
your left hand more often than most people."
"Maybe I'm left-handed."
"If you were born left-handed, you'd be less... awkward."
Rain met Mallet's eyes. "Is he like this a lot?"
"Were you any different at eighteen?"
"You have a point." Rain sat forward and rested his
forearms on the desk. "Let's be crassly truthful. I don't like
having a co-handler forced on me. When my arm was
injured," he glanced at Tiger, "I had to stand down from the
fire team until I healed. After a while, it became obvious that
I was never going to be one hundred per cent again. By
taking the position of handler, I was able to stay on active
duty, and guess what? I'm good at it. But the
handler/operative dynamic is like senpai/kohai, so you can
see why I'm a little puzzled and not exactly happy that my
new kid comes with a nanny."
Mallet nodded. "Understood. It's always been my dream to
be part of a mission team. The onmyoji feels that my best use
is as a teacher, but I've been given this chance to experience
active duty. Even if I only work on one mission and go back
to the island, I'll have the memory."
"There's nothing glamorous or glorious about missions.
There's a lot of intelligence-gathering, which means hours and
hours of research. A lot of mundane details like flights and
time zones have to be organized. The actual hit is over in a
split second. The aftermath and everything leading up to it
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can take days, weeks, months, sometimes years." Rain
paused. "The worst part is the waiting. You're all geared up to
do your job, but you have hours of time to kill, and yet you
have to stay focused."
"I can stay focused," Tiger said.
Without warning, Rain braced his palms and sprang onto
his desk like a frog. Without pausing, he launched himself at
Tiger. Tiger lifted his feet and kicked at the desk, throwing
himself backward. As his chair hit the floor, he rolled to the
left, away from Mallet. Rain twisted in midair, as supple as an
otter, and avoided the legs of the overturned chair. While
Tiger scrambled to his feet, Rain lashed out with his foot and
hooked Tiger's ankle. Tiger let himself fall back onto his hands
and pushed off the floor, popping to his feet in a squat.
"Don't wait for him to make a move," Mallet barked at
Tiger. "Forget that he's your superior. He attacked you."
The next time Rain aimed a kick at Tiger, Tiger reached
out with eye-blurring speed. Grabbing Rain by the calf and
ankle, Tiger spun, twisting the limb in his grip. Rain was
flipped facedown when Tiger released his hold, sending Rain
crashing into the wall. When Tiger leaped to follow up, Rain
held up a hand.
"Enough," the handler said. "I've seen all I need to." He
grinned. "You're very strong."
"I've worked hard to make myself strong."
Rain nodded. "Come on. I'll show you your quarters, and
then we'll talk about your first mission with the fire team."
* * * *
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by Connie Bailey
The express penthouse elevator opened on the gleaming
glass and stainless steel of the apartment building's lobby.
Yamada Wataru stepped out, accompanied by four members
of his security team, and strode across the highly polished
marble. They reached the front entrance, and Yamada's round
face curdled in displeasure when the doorman was slow.
"Out of my way, useless fool," he barked.
Yamada's bodyguards shoved the doorman aside and
made a human tunnel for their boss to walk through. The
limousine was idling at the curb, disregarding the no-parking
zone. Yamada considered that his wealth put him above the
rest of society and that the same rules didn't apply to him.
Most of Yamada's employees followed their superior's custom
of ignoring the law when it suited them, counting on his
influence to keep them out of trouble. With a number of
government officials in his deep pockets, neither Yamada nor
his associates feared ordinary policemen.
Pulling his Russian sable collar closer around his neck,
Yamada stepped out onto the sidewalk, fully confident in the
abilities of his hired muscle to keep him safe. He walked
toward the car, glancing at one of his men as a cell phone
rang in the bodyguard's pocket.
The minder ignored the ringing as he scanned the
surroundings for signs of danger, but everything looked as it
should on the busy street. Cars and taxis crawled to the light
at the intersection, hindered by the pedestrians that crossed
the road wherever they pleased. The plate glass windows of a
designer clothing store directly opposite gave the bodyguards
a mirrored view that allowed them to see what was going on
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behind them, and all movement in the area was normal for
the time of day.
The head of security motioned to the chauffeur to let him
know everything was optimal just as a bicycle courier flashed
by the limo on the street side. Attracted by the sudden burst
of activity, the bodyguards reached for their guns, but the
messenger was already turning the corner, causing oncoming
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