I'm so excited.
Well, you know, other than the threat of death and such.
But still!
I'm helping!
As I have said before, I am Bokkai although most of you call me Techno. Which is a type of music but whatever.
None of you have ever seen me, I think. Well, Joe Smith has, that was last Friday. I like him.
Well, I’m 25 and Japanese. I don’t stand out in any crowd. Too mousy, my dad used to say.
Brutal, on the other hand would stand out on a mountain. The guy must have been about two meters tall. He was in his mid-thirties and bald. A significant patch of his dark scalp was white with a nasty looking burn scar. Apparently Bounty hunting didn’t pay well because he could only afford a black glove for his left hand. But at least the shades were all there so probably paid for.
The man was built like a tank. He was broad and muscular, things I could see despite the heavy duster he wore. His combat boots crunched in the snow. He didn’t have luggage but rather some sort of military style rucksack. I could see an MP3 player ear bud.
This had to be Brutal. Fashion sense that bad doesn’t lie.
I flashed him the sign. I was good at it. I’ve been practicing. For years.
The hulking brute loomed over me. Back home in Japan, I’m average. Here, not so much.
"Not really good at sign language with this," He pulled off his glove to reveal scarring similar to what was on his head.
I don‘t think this guy got it. "Umm, but Mister Brutal, we're supposed to use the hand signs."
"Wish to explain how one with a burned hand suppose to use hand signs when one doesn't really work?" He really wasn’t one for playing nicely with others.
Still, I felt the need to point out the obvious. "They're one handed signs?"
With a sigh of exasperation, he made the counter sign with his good, right hand.
"You see, that wasn't so hard.,” I reassured him, now that he was playing by the rules. “My van's right over here."
When we got there, I told him where he could shove it. His bag, that is. "You can put your stuff in the back. Just be careful, there's a lot of expensive computer gear back there. I buy nothing but the best on Nemesis' dime."
Perhaps not wanting to incur needless expenses, he set it in as gently as he could. Still managed to scratch up some covers though.
First I winced. Then I shrugged. "I'll just take it out of the budget."
Then I got in the drivers seat and started it up. "My name's Bokkai, by the way."
"Brutal"
"No, it's Japanese actually."
He looked me up and down "I couldn’t have guessed, you can call me Brutal" He was very direct and his voice showed neither emotion nor care. What’s with all these merc’s and they’re not showing emotion? Is it some sort of union rule? Or do they surgically remove your sense of humour before you can hire out your services?
"Brutal is right."
He didn’t seem to notice the statement. He just let himself in to the passager seat "Know where we're going?"
I noticed him adjust his coat when he sat down. Did he really think that shotgun was hidden? I mean, I spotted it. "Yup. We're going to meet someone there. The guy who calls himself Reckoner. I've been chatting with him online a bit. Seems like a decent sort."
Soon we were underway and I decided to try and accommodate my new friends tastes. "So Brutal, what sort of music do you like?"
He gave me a sidelong glance, as though to say, “Are you kidding?” What he actually vocalized was, "what is the ETA to the arrival?"
"J-pop it is then." I said as I put in my favourite CD of MP3‘s. "Depends on traffic."
"Best estimate?" He asked with his usual verbal efficiency.
"About half way through 'Butterfly'". You gotta play with these hard asses sometimes.
His look was questioning.
"Oh, umm. 32 minutes." I suppose it wasn’t really that funny.
"Good" He leaned back to reach in to his inside breast pocket and pulls out a large flash drive. "I was instructed to provide original digital copies of my interrogation for Nemesis. I assume it goes to you for processing?"
"Yup. I'm the geek." Because, you know, it’s what I’ve been saying all along. "Did you learn anything interesting?"
"Nemesis has a joint contract on her worth $100,000 Euros and anyone helping her is a valid target as long as Nemesis is killed.”
"Oh." What else do you say when you find out that dangerous Mafioso’s are going to gun you down on their way to bigger fish?
“I believe the price went up since I met with an agent of the Lambargo family since I shattered his arm. It appears the an Irish family called the O’Donnell’s with dealing with the IRA also are in on the contract” He was pretty matter of fact for someone who had just said I was as good as dead. "They have been keeping an eye on her via the boards."
"She figured as much. That's why she was so mad about Hannah blabbing about Boston." This wasn’t news to me. Nemesis has been keeping me in on the loop for a lot of things she hasn’t let out in public.
He nodded "Since the original issuing the contract it has been open to all members of the trade. They also have given out a list of her 'allies' or what they could figure from reading the threads.
"Its also seems she has a Guardian Angel."
"She figured anyone who actually got near her might be in danger. For some reason, she's not worried about herself. Seemed to think she could keep Hannah safe too." I paused, thinking about what he had just said. "What do you mean by guardian angel?"
“Her late night caller was distracted when an angel made a noise warning Nemesis in the process. That was the noise she heard the angel." He was still very matter of fact about it.
"Are you serious?" This didn’t make any sense.
"As he describes it yes. A red head male being with wings, dressed in old roman garb with a bastard sword on it's back. It was caused him to look away when Nemesis looked out. Otherwise he would have just open up on the room without a second thought" He shrugged, "I believe that describes an angel."
"But why?" I still wasn’t making sense of it.
He shrugged, "If I run into this angel then I will ask it. Though I would assume Nemesis knows more about why then her caller did."
"She's never said anything about it to me." There was no reason to keep something like this a secret, was there? Where did it all fit together?
He shrugged, "we all have our secrets."
"Not me." I’m pretty sure I don’t.
He shrugged again, "believe what you wish. Whatever the case it changes nothing. An angel saved her life for what ever its reason, she survived because of it."
Then he just started humming.
Odd. I would never have taken him to be a patriot.
