Adults Only

RBVS - Book One

Witchcraft (Miss Fuchida)

Chapter Three

There was a lemon tree in my garden, which was only barely that. A few hundred square feet surrounded by a high wall behind the house provided by Mr. Yamashita's company. The garden was well maintained however, and pleasant enough. Such things were essential to a person's health, as anyone born and raised in Japan could tell you. So many other cultures took nature for granted and I often reflected on my great fortune.

We were meditating with the sunrise, my two Bonsai and me, sitting quietly with our thoughts turned inward to find the harmony between heart, mind, and body. Afterwards we would exercise and I'd been pleased to find Hemlock and Ivy were excellent students, although I hardly considered myself a teacher. They were attentive however, and possessed a wonderful talent for mimicry, and I was decided to find them a real sensei at the earliest opportunity.

I had another reason for their company as I'd become increasingly aware of a discrepancy in their spirits or kami. It was their inner selves, which is called wa in Japanese, a word which means 'harmony', among other things. Everyone possesses wa and it can be detected and interpreted, revealing much of a person's state of being, their emotions easily and even their thoughts and intentions. My two girls possessed a wonderfully balanced wa, soothing and warm and this was a comfort, but a mystery as well because it never faltered.

During our meditation, our sex, our daily exertions of living, there was nothing about them spiritually which changed and this was both frustrating and somewhat alarming, for I didn't know what it meant, nor how such a thing was accomplished. All of us experience joy, sadness, fear, and love and a hundred other things, and it is reflected in our energy, but Ivy and Hemlock appeared to suffer none of that, or all of it perhaps. I had no way of knowing, and it was as if they had no wa at all, but only that single radiant harmony.

Being unable to converse with them directly, I found myself studying them intently and my meditations were deep as I probed for answers. As always, however, there was no secret revealed and I could merely smile at that mystery.

I practiced hisai-jo, the Dark Mistress of martial arts and it was a powerful discipline and secretive, with very few adepts and a number of masters which could be counted on one hand. Izawa-san had been such a master and he'd taken me as a student only because of my potential and nothing more. There was no amount of money or form of coercion which could affect his decisions in any regard. That was a discipline as yet beyond my reach, forsaking the material world utterly, and Izawa was the only person I'd ever known who was truly free.

A thousand kicks with the right leg, a thousand with the left. Punches after that and then my favorite part, the exercise of motion. It was a ballet, literally the Dance of Death, moving around the garden silently and very much like flying it always seemed to me. The motion was intended to camouflage intent and involved misdirection and distraction, innocuous gestures intended to lull one's senses into a placid yearning. It was hypnotic and beautiful and the strikes were quick, blinding in their speed. With a perfect attack the victim would die without realizing he'd been struck at all and even a strident observer would have detected no sign of it.

Later I was using shuriken, razor edged throwing stars, tossing them at long sections of wood, an inch thick and two inches wide, held by my two girls as they moved around the edge of the garden. They would smile at each other, jumping with surprise as spinning metal would suddenly embed itself in the wood, and they wore expressions of pleased laughter at my wonderful magic, but of course no sound would issue from their silent lips. I largely ignored them, intent on the exercise at hand, but later I would allow myself some pleasure. I did so much enjoy their happiness.

And there were other exercises as well, a myriad of disciplines to which I was a devoted student and they were all lethal, to one degree or another, but that was not my purpose. The elevation of kami and attainment of perfection was always my overarching goal and I considered it happy circumstance, but certainly no coincidence, that so much of what my spirit found essential had practical use to sustain my body.

After bathing, I attended to prayer as part of my morning ritual, and in this too my Bonsai joined me. I prayed for my parents, of course, but also for myself, seeking the wisdom of my ancestors to guide and influence my decisions. I was impatient to be done with this matter of Mr. Yamashita, although I'd only just begun the journey. I wished to return to Germany, to Berlin with my children and spend time to understand them better and explore my emotions, my newfound attachment to Ivy and Hemlock. I should have sent them on without me and my efforts to keep them near me were weighing upon my mind greatly, and I wondered if Mr. Yamashita hadn't also planned for this. I suspected the man too much, clearly, but such are the devices of gods and monsters. Gifts which poison us with pleasure and I felt extremely wary of remaining too long upon the task at hand.

I would finish it and retire to Berlin and there find understanding for this enchanting affliction I'd contracted with Mr. Yamashita's generosity.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Miss Fuchida, good morning." Janos Petofi, the project director, was standing in his office when I arrived.

He was a large, jowly sort of man and unmistakably European with an aristocratic air about him that I didn't like. Small eyes and sweaty florid skin, like he'd just stepped out of a sauna; Petofi was used to being comfortable and doubtless finding me in his office wasn't what he wanted. It meant something was wrong, just by my presence, and I could smell the man's suspicion.

"Director Petofi." I lowered my head slightly, which would have been taken for an insult by a Japanese man, but he was Hungarian and so he merely smiled.

"Coffee? Tea? Please, sit down." His English was heavily accented as he gestured towards a small sitting area in his spacious office.

"Tea, thank you." I followed his direction and sat in a thin leather chair while he poured from a plastic carafe.

"I didn't realize my new security officer would be so attractive." He smiled at me and his appreciation was unmistakable, as it was meant to be.

I was wearing a leather dress, but a tasteful one to be sure. It was all of one piece, dark and dully red, almost burgundy, and supple as it conformed to my shoulders, breasts, waist and hips. The skirt was long for my tastes, one inch above the knees, and slit in the back. I wore short matching heels and Ivy had fixed my hair and makeup wonderfully. She was a talented girl, both of my Bonsai were, and she'd made me beautiful.

"I breached your facility last night." I leaned forward, spooning sugar into my tea and stirring it slowly.

"So I understand." The man forced a smile. "We are a small project, there is little here that would be of interest to anyone…"

"You have a level three biolab, with test subjects." I tapped my spoon carefully on my cup. "Some people would find that interesting."

"Who?" The scientist snorted. "Greenpeace? Peta? We have chimps, Miss Fuchida. Monkeys and rats and they are well treated."

"I'm sure." I sipped my tea and it was of a sort that came from little bags with strings attached. This Hungarian had been in America too long.

"I did not ask for a security officer." He told me. "My budget is already strained."

"And I did not ask for this assignment, Director." I set my cup down. "So now that we understand each other, perhaps we can work together."

"What do you require?" He sat back, folding his hands across his stomach, which was generous.

"I require access to Foxtrot." I said bluntly and I'm certain that would have surprised Mr. Yamashita as much as it surprised Petofi. For what was supposed to be a clandestine investigation, I'd just announced both my purpose and intention.

"What is Foxtrot?" He smiled petulantly and the man was good, but I could sense his nervousness and it was all he could do to sit still.

"Director." I smiled, setting my tea cup down slowly. "I'm your security officer, do you understand?"

"Mine." Petofi drew a deep breath.

"Yours." I agreed. "If you have secrets from me, I won't be able to protect you."

"I see." He paused to consider that.

"Right now, Foxtrot is a myth." I concentrated on relaxing; controlling my emotions, my breathing and heartbeat. My presence had to be a calming influence.

"And what makes you think it isn't?" He was struggling with his fear, with his paranoia.

"This." I pulled a piece of paper from my purse, folded lengthwise three times, and slid it across his coffee table slowly.

On it were neatly typed the names of those members of Mary who were suspected of active participation in Foxtrot. Seventeen names with Petofi's at the top and whether it was complete or accurate, that hardly mattered, some of them would in fact be involved and Petofi would know it. Merely having a list would confirm his worst fears, that his secret had been exposed. My job now was to convince the man that I could minimize the damage, that I was willing to work for him.

"What's this?" Petofi said after looking the list over. "It's nothing."

"I'm mistaken then?" I stared at him.

He took a long time to respond and I wasn't sure if he was debating the size of the bribe he would offer for my loyalty, or if he was wondering if having me murdered wouldn't be most expedient. My death would hardly guarantee the security of his project, however, and so I thought it was the bribe, but he surprised me.

"Mr. Yamashita has given Foxtrot the highest priority." Petofi said, sucking his lips briefly. "I must consult him."

"Mr. Yamashita." I breathed. "You're certain he's your sponsor?"

"Yes." Petofi narrowed is dark eyes. "Why?"

"I hadn't realized he was so…Interested." I smiled, but my mind was going fast now. I couldn't tell if the man was lying or not, he was so uncomfortable already "Contact him then, I understand."

Foxtrot was Yamashita's project, or someone posing as him, which wouldn't be impossible, I supposed. He wasn't easily accessible unless he wished to be, even under the most favorable circumstances. If it were true, then he had sent me here for another reason. To expose me to Foxtrot, obviously, and then…What? Did he wish it terminated? If so he would already know who was involved and to what degree, there'd be no need to play games such as this.

If Foxtrot's benefactor was an imposter…

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

My answer came in the early hours, just after three in the morning and I felt their presence like a malignant fog settling upon my heart.

There were seven of them and I lifted myself carefully from the bed, having no desire to awaken my sleeping Bonsai from their peaceful slumber. I was naked, but that hardly mattered, and I soon dressed myself in the cold steel of Toeishido, a master smith who had forged metal into beauty four hundred years before I was born. The art of kenjutsu is well known to me and my sword, which would have been a Japanese national treasure, had a well known thirst for blood. Its name is Akakaze. The Red Wind.

The men wore Nomex stealth suits, combat webbing with night vision, radio-telephones, and silenced H&K Model 97 automatic pistols. They were assassins and doubtless competent, but they had not been properly briefed on their opposition. They were looking for a single security officer, a female with some experience perhaps, but hardly prepared for their assault. Three men held the perimeter outside with two teams moving inside to find me, two men each, and that was how I took them. An eighth man would be transport, possibly backup, depending on what assets he had to call on, but it wouldn't matter.

The first team was coming upstairs, where my children were sleeping, for that was very much how I regarded my Bonsai just then. I slipped between them, falling from the ceiling onto my feet and taking the first with migodo, a diagonal cut to the right of his breast and downward, then reversing the blade to thrust behind and under my left arm, angled upward to take the other as he turned. Tsuki, my sword penetrating the small of his throat and emerging through his cerebral cortex at the base of his skull. He stood erect for a moment, quivering while I watched the one in front of me fall in two pieces, and then I removed my sword to let him rest as well.

The two downstairs were easier, divided as they were and expecting my approach from the stairs. I'd slipped out the balcony however, killing the three outside and reentering the house through the now open front door. They did not see me and separating a defenseless man from his head is a simple enough task. The entire exercise had taken less than five minutes and I stood at the bottom of the stairs, breathing quietly, my heart beating normally, holding my sword in my right hand, away from my body and angled down. I could hear the blood falling from the blade, small drops spattering on the marble tiles like the first sign of rain.

"Tomoso." The voice on my telephone answered on the third ring and he must have been sleeping for it was very early.

"This is Miss Fuchida." I said gently, respecting the man's sensibilities.

"Hai…Yes." He switched to English, coming quickly awake.

"I require cleaning services." I said, making my way upstairs.

"How many?"

"Seven…More or less." I frowned, stepping over the legs of the man I'd cut in half.

"Where?"

"My residence."

"I understand."

"Thank you, Tomoso-san."

Tomoso was a security officer for Mr. Yamashita and he was the one providing me with support, my only contact and ally in the company. Whatever skills and resources he possessed were at my disposal, but obviously I had no desire to rely on the man. Unfortunately, leaving seven paramilitary assassins dead in Mission Bay wasn't something I could easily clean up by myself. The Corvette's trunk just wasn't that big.

I hung up the phone and it was time to leave. I paused to remove a small headset from one of the men; an earpiece and microphone. My Bonsai were still sleeping soundly and I roused them with soft kisses on their eyes, stroking their smooth warm chests and it really was impossible to tell them apart without looking between their legs.

I rented a suite at the Marriott Downtown, using my Korean passport, and sat on the balcony to watch the sun rise slowly through the grey haze that obscured the mountains east of San Diego. One lone peak rose above it, but I didn't know which mountain that might be. It wasn't Fuji-san and I felt rather distant with that thought. I was considering the best place to interrogate the Hungarian Petofi, for I was rather disappointed with him.

Sending assassins to my home, where my children slept, had been a mistake. A necessary one to his mind perhaps, but a mistake nonetheless because it made this contest personal to me suddenly. I chided myself a moment later for being foolish, but there were instincts within me that I was struggling to understand. My Bonsai, Ivy and Hemlock were essential to me now. I wondered if Margaret had felt the same towards me, but of course she'd been training me to be her accomplice as well as her lover. Like Izawa and Nomuri, Margaret had been my teacher; my relationship with the two children now unpacking our things was of a different sort altogether and I worried over it.

"Ivy." I called the girl softly and one of them emerged from the bedroom, walking so gracefully that she might have been a flower adrift on a summer breeze. Her kimono was white and pink, her face immaculate and perfect, and her bow was flawless. Her wa also was impeccable, as always, and I felt her presence as a balm upon my soul, if I did indeed possess such a thing.

I didn't need her for any specific reason but only that, and Ivy was content to kneel beside me, watching the hastening sun brighten our morning. Her brother joined us several minutes later, identical in all ways but one, and I closed my eyes so that I would see only them.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"What is this?" Petofi swallowed hard; staring at the radio set I'd tossed onto his desk.

"You tried to have me killed last night." I sat down in a thick leather chair, crossing my legs and smoothing my grey silk skirt.

"I didn't want that." He shook his head and sweat was beading on his red face. He was terrified, which was interesting, and I wondered if it was pain or merely death that frightened him so badly.

"Who did?" I asked reasonably, opening my purse.

"I…Can't tell you." He licked his lips. "I'm not sure. I don't know."

"I don't believe you, Director." I pulled out my pistol. "Do you know what this is? Have you seen one before?"

"A…Gun?" Petofi blinked at it dumbly.

"Hmmm…" I smiled. "…Not just any gun, this is a prototype." I held it up, turning it slightly and openly admiring it. "It wasn't very easy to get. I had to kill some people for it."

"Oh." Petofi nodded like he understood what I was talking about.

The black Colt Annihilator gleamed dully in the morning light streaming through the large windows. It was a comfortable weapon and surprisingly light. I thumbed the charge switch with a little sigh. It seemed to warm in my hand, although I was sure it was only my imagination. I pointed the gun at the far wall and a small blue dot appeared, very much like a laser gun sight, but this was different.

"How well do you know physics?" I asked Petofi and he cleared his throat, but I didn't need an answer.

"When I pull the trigger a stream of positrons is created, not many, just a few nanosecond's worth, and they travel in quiet safety down the beam of light until the laser is absorbed or reflected." I looked at the man, making sure he was paying attention. "Then they find their opposites…You know what those are?"

"Uh, Electrons?" He asked and I nodded.

"Very good, Director. Positrons hit electrons and a small nuclear explosion occurs." I turned, pointing the gun at his chest. "It's instantly and utterly lethal. An atom bomb in my hand, can you imagine such a thing?"

Petofi was white as a sheet now.

"Can you imagine what it will do to your chest?" I shook my head slowly. "I've never shot anyone with this yet, but I did down an Aeroflot A300 with it, exploded one of the jet engines just as it was taking off. Maybe you saw it on the news, that awful crash in the Ukraine last year?"

"Yes." He closed his eyes.

"Now, Director, if I'm willing to murder 133 men, women, and children for the price of a decent apartment in Berlin…What do you think I'll do to someone like you for trying to kill me?"

"What do you want from me?" He asked and I was a little surprised he'd broken this easily.

"The same thing I wanted yesterday." I said. "Access to Foxtrot."

"He's…" Petofi paused, licking his lips and I waited. "…He's downstairs."

"Who's downstairs?" I narrowed my eyes.

"Foxtrot." He nodded quickly as I lifted the gun, turning it off with a touch of my thumb. "The one you want, he's in sub-level three…I can…I'll take you to him."

"Foxtrot is a man?" I stared at Petofi and he shook his head quickly.

"No, no…He's…Something else."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Sub-level three did not exist, officially. I'd detected no sign of it in the files at my disposal. It was not in the building schematics or blueprints. It was accessible by a key which I did not have, but Petofi did and he used it in one of the elevators. He inserted the key into an unmarked keyhole, turning it with a dull click, and the elevator immediately began its descent.

"I didn't try to have you killed." Petofi looked at me. "I called Mr. Yamashita, only him."

"You spoke with him?" I asked. "Personally?"

"Yes." The man swallowed thickly. "He…He told me to show you everything."

"Oh?" I blinked at that, but if Mr. Yamashita intended to kill me those instructions would mean very little.

I was reasonably sure my employer and father wasn't responsible for the attack, however. Mr. Yamashita wouldn't have underestimated me so badly. He would never have sent seven men, or at least not those seven. He would have sent just one and whoever he sent might even have succeeded because Mr. Yamashita would know that he couldn't afford to fail. Unlike Petofi and the person he was really working for.

"You, uh, you should leave your weapon. We can lock the elevator and…"

"I am a weapon." I stared at the Director.

"What I mean is, Foxtrot is dangerous. During the day, we're somewhat safe, but at night we have to observe him remotely."

"Why?" I asked as the elevator doors opened and Petofi turned his key, holding the elevator open.

"He has…Abilities we don't fully understand." The man shrugged.

He looked pointedly at my gun, which I held against my thigh just to keep him intimidated. I probably didn't need it any longer though; Petofi was more than willing to tell me whatever he knew.

"Let's go." I nodded my head and he shrugged.

There was a corridor, brightly lit and then a heavy door, like that of a vault. I waited while Petofi entered a code into a keypad embedded in the wall and then pressed his hand to a scanner next to it. None of this had come cheap and I decided that the estimates for Foxtrot's budget were grossly underestimated.

We entered a control room of sorts with a single security officer inside it and he'd been monitoring us in the passage outside I realized. He'd opened the vault door after the computers had verified Petofi's access was valid. Presumably if Petofi had been under duress he would have entered a different code to let the guard know and I suspected there were methods and means of isolating the corridor, flooding it with some gaseous agent, the elevator as well. It was a good system, better than most I'd seen, and this guard, unlike the men upstairs, was very competent.

"You don't need that." He told me, ignoring the Director and speaking of my weapon. "It wouldn't do any good anyway."

He was a black man, trained someplace, probably by the U.S. Army, maybe an ex-SEAL. He reminded me of the men I'd killed the night before and I looked at him closely, wondering if he hadn't been the eighth man, because there surely had to be one.

"I'll take your word for it." I shrugged and put the Annihilator away, but keeping my purse unzipped.

"Where is my father?" Director Petofi asked and that surprised me.

"He's in the lab." The guard replied, gesturing at a monitor.

"And Foxtrot?" The Hungarian asked leaning towards another, larger flat panel monitor and I followed his gaze.

"Sleeping like a baby." The black man replied, not smiling.

We could see a man, or a boy I should say, naked and strapped down to a metal table fixed in the center of what looked to be an otherwise empty room. He was beautiful, that's the only word for it, but thin and ghostly pale as if he were ill. He had long black hair and a sensual face, relaxed and wax-like as it reflected the fluorescent lights above him. I couldn't see any sign of life. The boy's chest did not rise or fall, his muscles didn't move, there was no hint of rapid eye movement behind his closed eyelids.

"When did he last feed?" Petofi sucked his lips and I there was a tremor in his voice. He was afraid of this boy, more than he was of me.

"Two nights ago." The guard replied. "He'll be fed tonight."

"Yes." The Hungarian swallowed hard. "Alright, we'll go to the lab."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The underground complex wasn't a large one, from what I could see of it and it was a very short walk to the labs, but it was modern and complete. There were perhaps a half-dozen scientists working down there, and not with animals. There was a ward, if you'd care to imagine it as such, like a hospital might have. A number of rooms, twelve of them, enclosed with glass walls and human subjects, men and women, young and old, restrained in hospital beds. Those rooms surrounded a larger area where the scientist were working.

"Miss Fuchida, my father, Janos Petofi…" The director told me.

"The Elder." The man said without humor and he was old, in his seventies perhaps, but strong and of a very different sort than his son.

Petofi the Elder was tall and austere, reminding me of Mr. Yamashita, and I could sense his brevity, for lack of a better word, his consuming devotion to a single purpose. Nothing and no one else would matter to this man unless it furthered his purpose, which would be Foxtrot, I understood. He regarded me coldly and I recognized some resentment in his eyes and I knew he'd been the one to try and have me killed. It was very clear to me and I decided that he would regret his failure before he died.

"If you'll excuse me…" The director was looking at his watch, now that his duty was finished. "…I have a budget meeting and…"

"Yes, yes…" The old man waved him away and stared at me. "Yamashita is getting impatient, eh? He sent you to hurry us along?"

"I'm here to understand." I said slowly and in truth I had no understanding at all of why I was there, or why Mr. Yamashita had played his little games with me.

"That's very ambitious of you." He smiled thinly.

"Tell me about Foxtrot."

The old man was dressed as a doctor, wearing scrubs and a long white smock. He had latex gloves on his wrinkled hands and he peeled them off slowly, snapping the rubber while he regarded me. The others in the room, four likewise dressed scientists ignored us, but for the occasional curious glance. They went about their business quietly, moving around computers, microscopes, and in and out of the rooms in which their patients were housed.

"What do you know about vampires?" He asked and the man's accent was as thick as his son's, who had left us quickly.

"Nothing." I said.

"Your honesty becomes you, Miss Fuchida." The man actually chuckled. "You just might appreciate what I have to tell you."

"Are you telling me you have a vampire?" I asked. "The boy?"

"Oh yes." He nodded and I followed him to a computer workstation where he was able to access the camera in the boy's room. He was unchanged, still lying there on the table.

"This is Stephen and we've had him almost two years now. Not very easy to get, believe me." Petofi was smiling and he was infatuated with the boy I thought. "We don't know how old he is for certain."

"Oh?" I allowed myself a smile because I was naturally skeptical. "He won't tell you?"

"He looks…Sixteen? Seventeen perhaps? But he's at least double that, perhaps more…A lot more." Petofi looked at me. "He could be a thousand years old for all we know, although he seems far too weak for that."

"And that's your interest." I nodded. "His slowed aging process?"

"It isn't just slowed, Miss Fuchida." The man shook his head. "It's stopped. Vampires do not age, mentally or physically. They're immune to disease and virus. They heal at a phenomenal rate. These are all things which interest us greatly."

"I see." I said, not entirely believing the man's claims, but not doubting his sincerity either.

Petofi went on to discuss at length the more technical details, which I understood only in principle. How they were working with the boy's DNA, analyzing it and looking for anomalies to be isolated and studied. They wanted to replicate his body's processes, to discover the secrets of immunity and eternal youth, looking for ways to regress the aging process.

I took all of the man's explanations at face value, but I was hard pressed to believe their validity without my own examination of the boy. All I knew of vampires were myths and legends, the odd film or book, although I'd never actually read or seen one. I didn't dismiss the possibility out of hand either. There were a great many things in this world, unseen things, and what others would call magic or impossible, I myself had learned to master. A vampire was not so different from a ghost, afterall, and I was well aware of their existence. The kami of my ancestors guided me well and often. There were demons as well, and dragons and my own sword, Akakaze held its own spirit, with its own desires and passion.

A vampire was hardly impossible, merely improbable, I thought, and only because I'd never come across one before.

"And how successful have you been?" I asked at the end of Petofi's lengthy presentation. "Have you been able to reverse the aging process?"

"No." He frowned slightly, shaking his head at the monitor.

He began walking then, taking us along the glass walls so we could see the test subjects. We could see them in their beds, sleeping it looked like, or perhaps only sedated. There was a monitor outside each room, fed from a camera inside and showing their faces. I glanced at them as we passed slowly.

"We haven't been able to do that." Petofi continued. "It seems likely that regression isn't a direct factor, but we hope to modify the boy's regenerative abilities to affect aging, in essence to regenerate time itself."

"What have you been able to do then?" I prompted a moment later as he seemed to be talking to himself more than me now.

"Oh, we've been able to isolate the geriatric inhibitors, to…Stop…The aging process." He said slowly. "But out of eight test subjects, only two were successful, the others…They didn't survive."

"Wait…" I narrowed my eyes and we'd passed three rooms already. "This one," I tapped the monitor of number three and…" I walked back to the first room. "…This one. They're twins."

They were men, somewhere in their late teens, maybe even twenty years old, but no more than that. They were identical, except for what differences daily life might bring to them. I blinked and felt my heart stirring in my breast as my mind worked to catch up with my instincts.

"They're all twins. One and thee." Petofi nodded. "Two and four. Like that. We have four identical and two fraternal sets now, they're rather hard to get. People seem to miss twins for some reason. These ones are Russian, I believe."

"Why twins?" I asked slowly and I knew, not the reason, but the truth.

"We're working with specific DNA." The man shrugged. "One is for testing, the other is our control."

"And the successful experiment." I swallowed hard. "You said you had one success…"

"Yes, about nine months ago. The first subject responded well, very well in fact." Petofi smiled. "We performed the procedure on the second as well and achieved the same results."

"What results?"

"They stopped aging, Miss Fuchida." Petofi nodded. "We tested them for six months, studied them, tried to use their genes in other subjects, but they were our only success."

"Who were they?" I asked him. "Where are they now?"

"I wish we still had them. What? Oh, Mr. Yamashita took them." The Hungarian said. "He was very pleased. I believe they were related to him in some way, grandchildren perhaps."

"A boy and girl?" I asked softly. "Japanese, perhaps 11 years old?"

"Yes, yes." Petofi smiled. "It was quite something. They died, you see? We almost started to autopsy the boy when he opened his eyes on the table. He gave us all quite a shock."

"They're vampires?" I wondered.

"Vampires?" The man laughed. "No, not like our Stephen is anyway. They're…Hybrids, I suppose. Only a small part of them is vampiric. They do not age."

"Bonsai." I closed my eyes for a moment, understanding finally Mr. Yamashita's little joke. They were full grown now, at twelve years old, as old as they would ever be and perhaps that forever.

"They're very valuable, have you seen them?" Petofi inquired. "I do hope Mr. Yamashita keeps them in a safe place. They're my greatest achievement to date. There's so much more we could learn from them."

"I've seen them." I nodded. "They're safe."

It was perhaps the reason for Mr. Yamashita's gift, knowing that I would be their protector. Or perhaps merely hoping so. Could my father know I would become so attached to them so quickly? Did he know me that well when I myself couldn't imagine such a thing? That was unimportant for the moment however. The fact was that they were with me and I would protect them and in that respect they were perhaps in the safest place possible and if that had been Mr. Yamashita's intention all along he'd arranged it cleverly, investing me with a personal interest rather than a professional one.

He'd given me the twins and then set me upon a path to discover their true nature. If that were so, then my purpose was to safeguard them and nothing more. Clearly Mr. Yamashita knew everything about this place and the people working here. The information I'd been given had been fabricated. I was protecting the twins and that meant…

My brain was going quickly, sorting the information and looking for the reasons behind the reasons. I followed Petofi slowly as he talked about his subjects, but I paid little mind. I understood that if my conclusions were correct then Mr. Yamashita would want his Bonsai back. He wouldn't have taken them in the first place, if he didn't have plans for them, and he wouldn't protect them with me unless he had a need for them in the future. He was going to take them away from me eventually, I realized, perhaps sooner rather than later as I'd discovered the truth much faster than the old man could have anticipated.

I set that aside and tried to understand who I would be protecting my Bonsai from. Another company seemed most likely, their DNA would be valuable. Some governments as well, that was obvious. But who would know about them? Other than Mr. Yamashita and the persons working on Foxtrot, nobody would have any idea they even existed. A leak seemed unlikely as the project had kept the existence of the vampire hidden, or so I had to assume. The boy, Stephen, was much more valuable than the twins, was I supposed to protect him as well? I was the security officer now, what did Mr. Yamashita expect of me?

If nobody knew except Petofi and his people that the twins existed, then those people who had created my beloved Bonsai were the only threat. How badly did Janos Petofi the Elder want his twins back, I wondered. He didn't try to have me killed because I knew about Foxtrot, I had Mr. Yamashita's blessing. Petofi had tried to murder me because he knew I had the twins. I understood that suddenly and I immediately put my mind to examining their vulnerability. I was under surveillance, I must have been if Petofi knew where I lived…No, that wasn't true. I'd been in a house provided by the facility. He knew where I would be. Was it bugged? Had I mentioned where we were going when we'd left? I didn't think so. Could someone have followed me to the Marriott? It was possible. The eighth man, perhaps, or someone else. Another team could have gone there after I'd left, be there right this minute, and I suppressed the fear that sought refuge in my heart. I had no use for it. Petofi was here and he would know and now he would tell me.

I moved much more quickly than the eye could follow and Petofi stiffened, his mouth opening with a soundless gasp as I took his left shoulder with my right hand, facing him and pressing my thumb against his collarbone. He felt the pressure as a distinct pain, sharp but not yet excruciating, and he was very near death now, although he couldn't know it.

"You tried to take my girls." I said. "Last night. Didn't you?"

"Girls?" He whispered and I could sense the sudden tension in the other scientists.

"The twins, the boy and girl." I corrected myself. "Are they safe?"

"I don't…" He wanted to get away but the pain and the look in my face were stopping the old man.

"Are they safe? Did you send another team?" I asked.

"Y-Yes!" He winced.

"Where?" I frowned. "Where are they being taken?"

"San…San Francisco…" His knees were weakening. "Palo Alto…I have a clinic…Sunrise Care…Ah!"

I pressed inward with my thumb, snapping the man's collarbone like a dry twig. The broken shards were driven inward to sever the arteries sprouting upward from his heart. He collapsed as I let him go, death coming within a few seconds. A pink froth bubbled from his lips as I stared down at the dead Hungarian, Petofi the Elder.

The other scientists were backing away, one of them reaching for the phone and doubtless intending to call the black security guard. I imagined he could lock the facility down if he wanted to and so I had to be fast, moving as quickly as I could to retrace my steps out of the lab and down a short corridor, wondering if I would suddenly find all those heavy steel doors locked. Thankfully it was a small facility and much to my relief I was fast enough, entering the security station just as alarms began sounding dully. Some indicators were blinking red on the guard's security console and he was drawing his weapon too late.

"No." I shook my head and there was a small blue dot between the man's soft brown eyes.

"Okay." He licked his lips and lifted his hands slowly.

"I have no interest in anything else here." I told the man. "I want to leave. Escort me upstairs safely and you'll survive."

"I understand." He said slowly.

"Fuck with me," my blue eyes stared into his, "and I'll feed you to the vampire."

His eyes widened at that and I'd had a suspicion it was the one threat no one in that godforsaken place would willingly ignore. I disarmed him, tossing his pistol away while I pressed the muzzle of mine to his head. He had his own key to the elevator and I had him leave the vault door open, telling the man he didn't need to close it as he would be coming right back anyway.

"Is there an alert team?" I asked him, looking at the elevator and wishing there were stairs. "Did you call anyone? Are they waiting upstairs?"

"No." He shook his head. "The others are…" he glanced over his shoulder at me, "…dead."

"Hmph." I smiled thinly. "Or on their way to San Francisco, right?"

"I don't know about that." He said and I believed him.

We rode the elevator and I stood behind him as the doors opened, just in case someone might be there, but the hallway was empty except for a secretary passing by and she merely gave us a bored look. I could sense nothing unusual and I left the guard there, pausing long enough to watch him turn his key and go back down. He would call someone, I was sure, but I had no idea whom. Petofi the Younger didn't seem the sort to handle any sort of tactical operation and so I discounted him immediately.

It was unimportant in any event. My only interest was getting to the hotel, although I was certain my Bonsai would be gone already, and then getting up to San Francisco as soon as possible. Someone had taken Ivy and Hemlock and I'd killed the man responsible, but I was angry now, as much with myself as anyone else. I'd been careless and slow to understand my situation, to see through all of Mr. Yamashita's deceptions. Unfortunately for those anonymous men who'd taken my children, they would have to bear the brunt of my displeasure.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The first direct flight I could get wasn't leaving until three in the afternoon, arriving about ninety minutes later, but that was still faster than connecting through Los Angeles on an earlier flight. There were no signs of a struggle in my suite at the Marriott, but that only meant whoever had taken my children were reasonably good at their jobs. Nothing else was missing and I occupied myself with preparing for my journey.

"Special Agent Asamijo, we have you in seat 6-B today. Do you have checked baggage?" The woman asked me at the airline counter and I nodded, placing my suitcase on her scale. I also had a cardboard tube, fifty-four inches long and eighteen inches in diameter, but I was carrying that. "Your flight leaves at three pm from gate Twelve, boarding at two forty. Thank you for flying Alaska Airlines."

I waited until she stapled my baggage claim to my ticket receipt and smiled back as she returned my FBI identification and American passport, putting them inside my purse next to my Colt. There was no risk with that ID, but I'd been saving it for an emergency. Getting the real thing had cost me a month's work in Jakarta for the CIA and I hated to squander anything, but this was important and I had precious little time to waste with the usual, more discrete methods of transporting weapons through the air. Sanderson would wonder what I was doing back in San Francisco and I didn't need his nose in my business, but it couldn't be helped. He'd send someone though, just to watch the news.

"Federal agent." I handed my ID to the guys at the security station and walked around the metal detector and X-ray machine a moment later.

The only thing unusual about the whole trip was that the airline pre-boarded me after looking at their passenger manifest, giving the FBI every possible courtesy, and doubtlessly the crew felt reassured having me on board. As well they should. I wasn't who they thought I was, of course, but if some terrorists wanted to crash that particular plane, they'd be in for a very rude surprise and such was my mood that I almost found myself wishing for it. One murder hadn't been enough for the day, not by a long shot.

I would be able to meditate at least, flying was good for that and I sought to sooth the turmoil that I felt inside. I was unhappy and angry and worried, and those emotions all have their proper time and place, but not right then. I needed to prepare myself and find my focus, my place in the greater scheme of the universe. I required harmony and balance if I was to be most effective and find my Bonsai in San Francisco, a city with which I was altogether too familiar and contained memories both good and bad. After today I would have more. That was my only certainty.

An hour wasted getting my luggage and a rental car, fighting airport traffic just to reach the choked freeway. I had the address for Sunrise Care Services and a map, but it was getting late, the sun setting early this time of year and those people had a head start. They wouldn't do anything, except perhaps sedate the children. Petofi would have wanted to be there, supervising if they intended to do more than that.

Rush hour in San Francisco lasts all day and half the night and it wasn't pretty. I forced myself to remain calm. My twins were safe, they wouldn't be harmed. After this, I decided, I would bring them to Europe, to Berlin and spend some time understanding them and what was going on. I had money, a lot of it, enough so I could take as much time as I needed. The rest of my life if I had to. If Mr. Yamashita wanted his Bonsai back he would have to come to me.

Sunrise Care Services was a small clinic in Palo Alto, specializing in Alzheimer's treatment, apparently. There was an associated home for the elderly, Petofi's patients, I assumed, and I imagined he'd done a little experimenting with them as well. The ones he took in as charity cases, the ones with no relatives who cared. The world was better off without the man, I decided, parking in the small visitor's lot.

I sat in my car, prying the plastic lid from my cardboard tube while I examined the clinic. It was modern and unremarkable, well lit and it was still a reasonable hour, just a little past eight o'clock. I stepped out, onto the asphalt, drawing the naked Akakaze with me and I turned into the wind, a cold breeze from the north and bowed stiffly, offering my sword with short prayer. I then placed it carefully on the backseat, unsheathed and ready, memorizing everything about it. The look and smell, the colors and textures. When I was satisfied that the image was imprinted in my head I closed the car and locked it, leaving my purse behind and hiding the keys behind the left front tire.

My attire was suitable enough, a grey skirt and blazer of silk, a white cotton blouse and low heels. I should have liked to go barefoot, but it wouldn't be necessary. All I wanted to do was find my children and kill whoever was holding them. If they heard me coming, so much the better.

I walked into the place with nothing but myself and frowned at the smell. The clinic was quiet and there was blood in the air. I walked to a desk, a round counter such as you would expect in a clinic, with calendars and brochures and bowl full of lollipop candy and I wondered how many children had Alzheimer's. On the floor behind the counter, there was an older woman in a nurse's uniform and she was dead, with blood pooled around her head and shoulders. I closed my eyes but I could sense nothing and no one. I leaned over to view her computer screen, but there was nothing there which might be useful.

I walked down the hallway, past a waiting room which was empty, opening doors as I went and finding no one until I found another man, a janitor perhaps, dressed in blue coveralls and still clutching his broom. He was dead as well, his throat cut, or more accurately ripped open as if by an animal. I made a search of the ground floor and there was nobody else.

The second floor was much like the first, some medical facilities, examination rooms and the like, as well as the administrative offices. Many of the doors were locked, the ones that weren't opened into rooms empty of people, alive or dead. I began to wonder if I hadn't killed Petofi too soon, but this was hardly a time for second guessing myself. There were three floors and I followed the stairs upward.

More blood, the air was thick with it, and the acrid smell of smoke, weak but present. The smell of guns recently fired and I paused in the hallway, seeing brass shell casings on the white tiled floor and bullet holes in the walls. A lot of rounds had been fired. I turned my head at a sound, a soft moan and I followed it to a room that seemed torn apart. The windows were blown out, lights broken and dangling from the ceiling. Furniture smashed and overturned and there on the floor, leaning against a wall was a man, bloodied beneath his ragged clothing and a young woman was crouched beside him, pressing a finger into his abdomen to make him shudder with pain.

She turned her head, sensing my presence and I blinked at her because her aura, her wa reminded me so much of the twins. It was impenetrable and unwavering and not entirely unpleasant, but sad. She was awash in sorrow, it seemed to me, but her features were contorted with anger. She was young, very young, and pretty, with unruly blonde hair and red eyes, smoldering like an ancient fire. Her teeth, her fangs, were long curving needles and her hands like claws with red and razor sharp talons at the tips.

Even as I registered all of that, the girl moved in the blink of an eye so that she was suddenly close to me and I jerked my neck out of the way as her fingernails raked the air where I'd been. There was no time for thought or consideration, I caught her right wrist with my left hand, my fingers sliding up her arm to the elbow and then turning quickly, squeezing her there and turning outward. It was akido and using her own considerable momentum against her, the girl's arm snapped, breaking just below her elbow, beneath my fingers. While that happened I was also twisting my body to deliver atemi, striking the girl just below her left arm with the point of my right elbow, it was a percussive strike and it should have killed her, breaking several ribs and driving them into her lung.

She dropped then, suddenly with a groan and sob of painful anger. Her right arm was useless and limp and she pushed her left arm from her injured side, seeking a position of comfort, but there would be none found, I knew. I glanced at the man she'd been torturing, but he was dead. There were other bodies in the room, other men who were armed and sprawled haphazardly, as if they'd been tossed by a tempest.

"Don't hurt me." The girl said softly and I felt her tugging at me with her voice. She had a power there, a magic all her own and it was powerful. "Come here now, close to me. Help me."

I took an involuntary step and I was suddenly filled with a desire to do as she asked, but it was false and I knew it. I had to go deep within myself to resist it, for it was very much a contest of egos more than anything else. I shook of the girl's suggestions and she frowned, knowing she had no control over me.

"Where are the twins." I asked her.

"He took them." She said weakly. "My…Ow…What did you do to me?"

"What? Who took them? Took them where?" I demanded gently.

I dropped down so that I was level with her eyes and they'd changed now, her whole appearance, from that of beautiful beast to just a girl, maybe sixteen years old. She was very pretty then, despite her pain and she was hiding that well, considering what I'd done to her in space between one heartbeat and the next.

"I'll help you." I said, for I did feel pity and I regretted that she'd attacked me. "I promise, but I have to find the children."

"Michel took them." She told me between shallow breaths. "I thought you were one of his. You surprised me."

"One of his?"

"A vampire. Like he is…Like me." The girl tried to smile, as if at her own silliness. "I know you're not…This…My arm…" She frowned at it and swallowed hard. "…You know kung-fu, huh?"

"What?" I laughed despite myself and reached for her. "Yeah, I know kung-fu. I know koppo as well, sit still."

"What's koppo…Ohhhh Fuck!!!" She jerked as I used the opposite of the ninjutsu art of koppo, breaking bones, to set her right arm and it was very painful, unfortunately.

"That's koppo, sort of, don't move. I'll…" I looked around. "…find a splint."

"Fuck that hurt a lot!" She took a deep breath. "Are you his friend or his enemy?"

"Who? This Michel person?" I found a whole cabinet full of medical supplies, overturned but that was easily corrected.

"Yeah." She nodded.

"If he has my girls, he's my enemy, yes." I shrugged, digging through the mess to find a bandage and some wooden paddles to use as splints. "He killed these men?"

"All of them except that one." The girl gestured with her head. "He didn't know anything though. You elbowed the shit out of me, by the way."

"I'm a little surprised you can breathe, much less talk." I told her truthfully and I was returning with what I needed to splint her arm. "I was trying to kill you."

"Me too." She laughed and then winced. "Fuck. I'm Lisa."

"I'm Wendy." I smiled at her.

"Wendy? Are those your real eyes?" She asked, tilting her head to get a better look.

"Yeah." I nodded and brushed my blond hair back, the ends dyed blue like my eyes. "I colored my hair though."

"I figured that." She nodded, watching me roll the bandage around her forearm. "Japanese, huh? There's another woman, she knows kung-fu too. She's Michel's."

"Oh?"

"She's a nun. Believe that shit? A vampire nun who knows kung-fu." Lisa licked her lips. "I'm after her."

"So you came here after Michel then?"

"To find her, yeah. He'll come looking for me too, maybe tonight. Probably not." She almost shrugged. "I wish you hadn't broken my arm."

"Me too." I agreed. "Where do I find this Michel?"

"He's…" She looked around and then nodded over her right shoulder. "That way…Somewhere. I can't tell how far."

"But you can sense him?" I asked and the girl nodded. "How about the other, the nun you're looking for?"

"No, she's not here." Lisa frowned. "But Michel will know where she went."

"What about…Anything else? Something…Almost a vampire, but different?" I asked her slowly.

"Almost a vampire?" She giggled and groaned and her ribs were hurting a lot. "Um…Maybe." She closed her eyes, concentrating and then opened them a few seconds later. "I don't know. I've only been a vampire a couple years, so…"

"Okay." I nodded and I'd finished with her arm. "Is he going to kill them?"

"The kids you're talking about?" Lisa shrugged and that was a mistake as she gasped.

"Don't move too much."

"Yeah, ow…Thanks." She made a face at me. "Ummm…He might, I don't know. He wouldn't come here and kill all these guys just to kill a couple kids though…Would he?"

"I hope not." I looked at the girl. "Have you ever heard that the enemy of my enemy, is my friend?"

"Huh?" She smiled. "What?"

"Nothing…Look, I need you." I told her and I wasn't going to offer the girl a choice. "I want to find Michel and so do you, right?"

"So we work together? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "How quickly do you heal? Let me see your side…Here…"

"I dunno, pretty quick I guess." Lisa said. "I got shot once, it only took a couple days before it was okay."

I was lifting her t-shirt, which was a little tight and I saw some bruising where I'd struck her, but nothing like I'd have expected. I felt her body carefully and she had cracked ribs, but nothing broken and Lisa was in a lot less pain now than she should have been. I decided her ribs would be fine, probably in just a few days. Maybe less than that if her story about the bullet wound was true.

"You got shot?" I looked at her.

"Yeah…Long story." She smiled. "I just need to, um…Well, feeding helps a lot."

"You need blood?" I asked and she nodded.

"Not yours, I mean. God, don't break my leg or anything!"

"What? No, I was thinking they must have some blood here someplace, in a refrigerator and…"

"Oh, that is so gross!" Lisa shook her head. "I tried that once, it like made me puke."

"What? Cold blood?" I blinked at her.

"Yeah, like bottled blood? It doesn't work. I mean it does, I can live off it, but no way." She made a face. "Anyway, we should get out of here, the police will be coming and that's always a hassle."

"Yeah." I snorted. "It is, can you walk?"

"There's no wheelchair around here?" She giggled painfully.

"I'll carry you." I decided. "Just don't bite me, okay?"

"Not til you beg for it." Lisa smiled.

I wasn't worried about her, the girl's spirit was changed. What had been sadness was gone, replaced now with a startling sense of harmony. I had some small concern that it might be a disguise, like her innocent human form, but I didn't think so. The girl was probably unaware she even possessed an aura, an ignorance which I always found disappointing in my friends and I did find myself liking this girl.

"He won't kill them." Lisa told me and she sounded very sure of herself as I carried her gently in my arms. "Your children will be safe for the night."

"How do you know?" I asked her.

"I dunno." She looked into my face. "I just have really good hunches sometimes. Maybe I'm psychic."

"Maybe." I smiled and I knew I'd have to believe her. She needed to feed and rest before she would be useful to me. She could find Michel and that made her too valuable to risk, but if my Bonsai were in danger I would never forgive myself for this decision to wait.

"Do you have a place?" Lisa asked as we walked through the lobby.

"Not yet." I answered.

"Me neither." She nodded. "I'll stay with you though, okay? But like when the sun comes up, I have to sleep."

"Right." I nodded at that.

"It kinda sucks being a vampire." She said. "I miss General Hospital."

"Heh." I smiled and put her down near the car, reaching under it for my keys.

"Oh shit! You have a Samurai sword in the backseat!" Lisa grinned at me. "That's way cool."

"Yeah." I smiled back. "It is."

"Do you believe in fate?" Lisa asked me, watching me put Akakaze away, in her scabbard and then back into the cardboard tube.

"Oh yes." I said. "Very much so."

"Me too." The girl told me. "I didn't used to, not until I met Angela."

A cloud passed over her pretty face, that sadness returning briefly, and I looked at her as I got into the driver's seat beside her.

"She was my girlfriend, uh…She was a vampire too, but we were, you know, in love." Lisa looked at me with a shy smile. "Have you been with a girl before?"

"Yes." I smiled back. "There was a woman named Margaret. My teacher … " I sighed, " … My mother. She introduced me to fate."

"Okay, yeah." Lisa reached for me, touching my shoulder with her left hand, ignoring her pain to do it. "I'm really glad you didn't bring that sword with you, Wendy."

I laughed at her, starting the car.

"I'm serious!" She gave me a mock pout and I knew part of it was an act, but not all of it. She found me attractive and I was enjoying the girl as well. "The enemy of my enemy's enemy is my enemy's enemy…What did you say before?"

"I said I wanted to be your friend." I turned to look at her. "And I don't have very many friends."

"I don't have any." Lisa swallowed hard.

"Well," I smiled, "now you do."

"Fate." Lisa smiled back and then she leaned towards me slightly, waiting for me to come the rest of the way.

I kissed her, gently at first and not knowing what to expect, or if I expected anything at all, really. She was a girl. Her lips were soft and her tongue light and flirting eagerly with mine and we agreed silently in that moment to become lovers. An assassin and a vampire entwined in more ways than one. Fate was the only possible explanation and I would bring silk in the morning for my ancestors.

End of Part 26 Read RBVS Part 27

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