2005-01-30 - 1:20 p.m.

1:18 AM

Mona stretched her arms and rolled her neck as she sat at her desk, checking the time as she did so.

Funny, she thought to herself. Before I met ‘Hero, I would’ve been in bed by ten. He certainly turned me into a night owl.

The thought of Actionhero brought a sad smile to her lips. It had been a fun and passionate affair, and she had loved every minute of it. She had even considered taking his offer to become the first Girl Friday for his company. But in the end she had broken it off, gone back to Imperatrix Holdings, LTD., and kept their relationship professional. Friendly and with more than a few benefits, maybe, but professional nonetheless. Deep in her heart she knew that she would only get hurt if she got too close. Not heartbreak mind you, they both understood it was about sex and not midnight hour spiritual bonding at Perkins, but actually bodily harm. Almost getting strangled by Thuggee assassins while trying to kidnap a certain British popstar from a lost Ashram in the Himalayas tended to send that message home.

She looked back at her computer and checked the quarterly reports she was finishing up for Man of Mystery, Inc. She shook her head. Even though she had been the main financial manager for the company since Actionhero started it, she was always surprised at what exactly he was involved in. But she wasn’t so absorbed in her work that she didn’t hear the sound of footsteps behind her.

She spun, her wand in hand and glowing with hex fire. Behind her Bastian stood, his arms raised and another sardonic smile on his lips.

“Easy, Hufflepuff. Its only me.”

“I almost hexed you asshole,” Mona said sheathing her wand. “ Not that I would have cared but I want to use a really good curse. What the hell are you doing here? It’s past 1 in the morning. Shouldn’t you be trolling for some slut in a bar or something?”

“Normally I would but I forgot something from my desk,” Bastian said, strutting cockily up to his desk. No one in the office really liked Bastian but he did have contacts and no one was more ruthless or devious when it came to “creative economics.”

“What, a personality?”

“Actually, little vela blood for the muggel girls. Makes them a bit more…pliable. And a bootleg download of 'Phantom of the Opera.' If anything, pirated movies it gets these muddies out of their knickers faster than all the vela blood in France.”

“Oh, what’s the matter Bastian, the old Malfoy charm not as…potent anymore? They make pills for that now, you know.”

“Laugh all you want, Hedgehog, but we both know who’s getting some tonight and who’s going to go to bed eating a tube of cookie dough and reading the personals in the Quibbler.”

“I really don’t know why they don’t send you to the Ghenna office once and for all.”

“Because, my dear, I am the devil and I do the devil’s work,” Basitan said, with a mocking grin.

Mona gave a snorting laugh. She turned back to her computer and missed the leer on Bastian’s lips turn into a dark, ominous smile he walked out of the office.

2:21 AM

Kasigi Omi, vice-president in charge of Special Operations for the Techyoto Combine, stood on front of the plasma wall screen, giving his report to the Chairman. It was late afternoon in Tokyo, the time the Chairman liked to listen to Omi’s report while he sipped tea served by his personal geisha, so even though Omi was half a world away, it didn’t matter.

Omi himself didn’t mind. A lifetime in corporate black ops made one’s schedule flexible and besides, he was in the mood to gloat.

“All in all, sir, the fortification and expansion of our position in the City is proceeding with great speed.”

“Is that so, Omi-kun,” the Chairman said, wryly using the nickname that Omi hated and that anyone other than the Chairman would use at their peril. “Then why are you projecting to me on a two dimensional screen and not on a holographic display?”

Omi remained unfazed on the outside, but on the inside winced. The Chairman liked to be blunt in these meetings, and point out any form of failings as he saw them.

“Apologies, sir. The tech team has been unable to make the modifications to this meeting room. They will be disciplined.”

“Perhaps this shortcoming in our meeting is fortuitous n a way. Perhaps the it is meant to symbolize a warning that we are moving too quickly. After all, with the…hasty purchase and renovation of the Kirby Tower we may have revealed our intentions at a premature moment.”

“With respect sir, I believe there is nothing to fear. Actionhero is dead and his corporation is weak, run by a woman of little concern. No one opposes us in this City.”

“So confident are you?”

“Yes.”

“Then tomorrow, I shall have my techs prepare my holoprojectors.”

The screen blinked off and Omi’s calm mask changed into a seething rage. He hated showing any flaw in front of the chairman but especially now—here from the City—he felt an extra failing. The aggressive expansion of Techyoto into the City was his idea, one that he had fought for and had spent weeks convincing the Chairman to support. The Chairman had been reluctant to agree and had only done so because Omi had assured him that it would be perfect. Any mistake and the Chairman might begin to have second thoughts about the venture.

Walking to the large window overlooking the nightscape Omi reassured himself that the gamble would be worth it. Techyoto was a power in Japan and Asia but its attempts to expand had been bedeviled by various forces. Dr. Curare had all but declared a holy war on them in Central and South America. And here in the City, Actionhero had used the influence that his corporation somehow had wielded to keep them in little more than a token role.

“But now you’re dead, you bastard,” Omi whispered. “You’re dead and your corporation is run by a weak little girl. And soon, this city will be mine.”

He heard the door to the office open. He turned, knowing it would be the company “executive comfort liaison” he always had scheduled for after his meetings. The “booking manager” had orders to vary the kind of girl sent to Omi and tonight, Omi arched an eye brow in slight surprise at this evening’s selection. Dusky skin and dark hair that shined like it was lacquered. Short, but in a way that accentuated her generous figure the swell of breasts and hips approaching an almost animé proportion that the red and gold kimono failed to hide. She was Indian or Pakistani. Definitely a Subcontinental. Probably a would-be Bollywood Actress, God knew the City’s “Hollywood East” district attracted enough of those.

Wordlessly he nodded. The girl undid her kimono and revealed her lush body, henna sigils all but dancing over her sienna flesh, a single broad sash of saffron silk winding across her breasts, hips, the mound of her sex, accentuating her naked form. She began to dance, a slow, pornographic undulation. The smile still on his lips, Omi walked towards her, circling her and looking her over with a critical eye.

“My my my, aren’t we a pretty little surprise,” he said. He looked deep into her dark eyes and summarily hit her.

The palm strike was fast, superhumanly so thanks to the Techyoto brand neural accelerators that laced Omi’s central nervous system. But the girl was faster. The her hands shot hp and blocked the strike. And the one that followed it. And the one that followed that. She countered with a kick to his torso, but it was like hitting a steel wall. Her eyes narrowed. Omi smiled wider.

“Bone lacing and armor skin,” Omi said.

Wordlessly she struck, Omi blocked, but somehow, she moved under his arm and behind him, her body locking around his, the silken sash uncoiling from her body like snake and wrapping around Omi’s neck. She pulled, tight, trying to crush his windpipe but somehow the silk wouldn’t move. Omi’s body spun and sheer brute strength broke her hold and threw her to the ground. Omi uncoiled the silk from his neck and rubbed the skin under it.

“Enhanced muscles. And an internal air tank. What, my little assassin whore, did you think I would be so easy? You bore me. Tetsu-ko. End this.”

The Indian assassin turned and saw a Japanese woman with chrome arms suddenly in the room. She raised one of her arms, palm up, a small hole opening at the base. With sudden thunder, a hail of razor sharp flechettes erupted from it and tore into the assassin. Her body fell to the ground, so much shredded meat.

Tetsu-ko walked over to Omi and caressed his neck.

“Close one,” she said.

“Not really. I let her get close. I knew what she was the moment I saw the henna on her body.”

“We need to end this. Let me lead the next hit on Man of Mystery. I’ll personally bring you that slut Suki in chains. I know how much you like that.“

“No. I have plans for them.”

Tetsu-ko turned way from Omi. And crossed her arms in a sulk. ”If you’re not going to let me do my job, then why did you bring me here?”

Omi stepped towards her and truned her to face him. One of his hands gripped her hair and pulled her head back, forcing her to look up at him. He saw her bite her lip in arousal at the rough treatment. His other hand began to undress her, all but tearing the clothes off her body. “Because, my lady of steel, I have plans for you as well….”

3:00 AM

The Girl and Gonzo walked out of the bistro. They had a small argument about where to eat: Gonzo had wanted take away kebabs and lager, and she wanted something a little more upscale. Naturally she won and they had a light dinner at one of the all night restaurants that catered to the post-club set in City Center and the Moderné.

“See, that wasn’t so bad.”

“I still say that Kebabland is the traditional way to polish off a night of ultra-violence. Or Waffle House.”

“See I heard different. I heard you and the boys used to burn the town down.”

“Who dimed me out? Was it Kingsley?”

“I’m not telling. But I hear you had the most groupies. Even more than Actionhero.”

“Goddamn, Kinglsey. I’m going to kick his afrosheen-coated ass all over Brixton.” Gonzo smiled and lit a slim cigar for himself and one of the Girl’s Silk Cuts.

“So,” he said. “Do you need a place? You can stay at the Savage Building until you get settled. I can square it with Suki.”

“Oh, Gonzo. Inviting me into your bed already?” The Girl smiled seductively. “You know I am that kind of girl.”

“Just want to know where I can drop you off.”

“Well, I do have a place in the Jet Set Zone. But there’s a bit of a problem there.’

“What? Terrorist ring next door? Tengu demon infestation? I’ve got guns for that.”

“No. I just hate to sleep alone. So Gonzo Chang, your place or mine?”

4:12 AM

Vittoria closed the door to Suki’s room softly. She’d left Suki sprawled out on her bed, fast asleep. After their encounter with Kiyagi and Flamenca at the bar, Suki had been so amused that she’d polished off a bottle of tequila and all but passed out. And despite claims that “I’m fine, goddamnit, just out of practice” and “Just gimme a sec, ~hic~ I’m getting’ my second wind” Vittoria had driven her home and put her to bed.

Checking her watch she decided that she had just enough time for a powernap before she had to get up and prepare for the day.

And, a last moment half recollection reminded her, a pistols date with Gonzo.

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