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Chapter -17- Plan B

February 3, 2024 - 5pm EST USCG NSC, Lower North Atlantic Ocean

** "Karla?" Sinopa looked up from the cell.** "What's wrong?"

"You need to get up here, now!" Karla waved her hand and displaced everyone from the brig until they surrounded her in the Coast Guard detention area. "Sire is aboard this ship; he's here, up top, right now. Sinopa, you're the only one that can ignore his weird mojo thing. Everyone else has to stay away from him. He'll use you as a weapon and you'll watch yourself doing things you'd never want to do. It's a mind-rape. Sinopa, please. You're the only one and you have to do it alone, because he would use any one of us against you."

Crevan nodded slowly. "The rest of you do whatever you must to get everyone else to safety. Clear a path so that we may battle without harming bystanders."

Topaz, looked up from a bench across from the brig, where she'd been sitting since before Karla came in. The thief frowned and glanced at Eric then Rufus. Her eyes flitted back to Karla. "I've never seen you this upset."

"Yeah. I've crossed this man's path before. Back in the late 90's. It wasn't pleasant. He tried locking down my memories of it and they've been surfacing over the last few weeks. And now I remember everything. I wish I didn't. He needs to die. I'm sorry, Sinopa - there's no way around it. You've go to do this alone and we cannot help you."

Sinopa nodded firmly and approached a reflective metal surface above a toilet just on the other side of the bars. "This is a poor mirror but it will have to do. Tamamo ... watch over me. I'm afraid I may need to spill blood."

The polished metal surface depicted a somewhat warped image of Tamamo-no-Mae. "Be careful, Sinopa. This is your first battle to the death against a superior foe."

"Do you doubt my abilities?"

Tamamo sighed with a forlorn expression of mild disgust. "No. I'm concerned that you may enjoy it. A messenger of Hachiman has already informed me of the upcoming battle." Tamamo unsheathed a sword from her side of the reflection. She took a moment to admire the sword studiously, then she sheathed it and pushed the handled side towards the reflective surface between them.

Sinopa licked her lips and remained silent. A sword began to emerge from the metal panel. The sheathed blade came between the cell bars; Sinopa took it into her hands in a reverent fashion.

"You have Hachiman's blessing, little one." Tamamo bowed her head with a stern expression. "...And mine. Fight with honor." Tamamo disappeared without another word.

Sinopa nodded firmly, in a half bow to the empty mirror. "I am ready. Show me the way to this man - Sire." She moved the sword into her kimono; it seemed to disappear into the fabric like magic.

Karla nodded and took Sinopa's hand. "This is going to sound a bit unladylike but ... please, for me - fuck his day up."

"Hai. I shall endeavor to, how you say, destroy him. Whatever this man has done to wrong you in a way that brings so much grief to your eyes when you speak his name ... I will avenge these wrongs for you, Karla-san."

"Thank you so much."

They shared a brief hug then Sinopa adjusted her kimono. "Topaz, take charge. Move everyone to safety." Both she and Karla disappeared.

Together, they appeared atop the National Security Cutter ship, on a flat surface not far from the smokestack. Karla pointed to a man on the helipad that seemed to be setting up a base of operations with ten men. Three of those men were engaged in a shootout with enlisted Guardsmen on the aft deck.

"Put me in the middle of it, Karla. And clear the sailors who operate this ship, please."

Karla nodded. "Alright." She closed her fists and the shooting all but stopped. Karla disappeared seconds later.

Before Sinopa could blink, she found herself standing in front of Sire and his men. Her orange locks billowed out behind her in the gale that swept over the helipad.

"Woman, who are you?" asked Sire.

"My name is Sinopa Crevan. What have you done to Karla Howard that she cannot say your name without an expression of absolute disgust?"

Sire smirked and folded his arms. His men pointed their weapons at Sinopa. His smirk broadened into a confident grin. "I employed her services."

"Go on."

Sire blinked at her tone, surprised to hear it. "Watch yourself, girl. Kneel before me."

"I shall do no such thing. Answer my question."

Some of Sire's men blinked and looked at their leader then back at the redheaded woman.

He tilted his head then said, "I used her to force the controls of an airplane, so that it had no choice but to steer into the Musi River in Indonesia. With her abilities, we could stay upright and free of the G-forces. We then teleported to safety seconds prior to impact. Does it bother you that your friend murdered one hundred four people? She tried to save a couple in love that day - a model-turned-writer and her mate. I, of course, didn't let Karla do anything good that day. The stupid succubus begged me to point out the Asian Justiciar. She said she would teleport him out of the plane; she begged on her knees with tears in her eyes to have permission to save the plane and it's people. I forced her to fly the plane into the river. It broke up around us but we were within a telekinetic force bubble. I had never watched people panic and pray the moment of their death before - it was quite a thrilling experience. Perhaps I'll use her to force this ship to the bottom of the Atlantic while I watch in amusement."

"Why kill those people?" asked Sinopa, unable to comprehend his callousness.

"Because someone disappearing off a pressurized cabin would create a vacuum. Because the disappearance would cause a great deal of investigation. The pilot was a trader who lost money in the failing Asian economy - it was too easy to arrange. Everyone assumed he must have been suicidal. I forced her to fly the plane into the river at a rate of speed greater than the speed of sound. The Justiciar, just as I planned, was never recovered from the mud. His ability would have allowed him to heal from most injuries in a matter of hours. But complete and utter destruction, where his every limb and digit was crushed into kibble and scattered ... no, he didn't come back from that."

Sinopa opened her hand-dyed silk kimono, careful with the Obi, so as not to lose the sash in the wind. She quickly performed the nine steps to fold it properly, wearing a simple gi beneath. She replaced the Obi and, seemingly from behind her back, she withdrew swords and tethered them, wrapping the sash around her body three times. She withdrew a Hachi Maki and tied the headband about her forehead.

Sire unfolded his arms and put his fists on his hips, watching her with amusement. "I commend your ability to ignore my will. But these men will shoot you. You're wasting your time ... and mine."

She withdrew a dagger from her collection of three swords. Speaking loud and clear over the wind that rushed across the deck, the kitsune announced, "I offer you this Tanto. To die in a way that may lessen the shame you've brought to yourself."

"Harakiri? Are you serious?"

"The act of seppuku is not something I offer lightly. It is your last chance to redeem your sins. Choose honor. Take the blade and act with dignity to make up for your many dishonorable offenses of the past."

Sire burst into laughter. "There are eleven of us with guns, you fool. You're not even Japanese. You're not even oriental!"

"Ignorant man. 'Oriental' is an adjective to describe the nature of an object. Oriental rugs, Oriental furnishings. I am Japanese and proud of my noble heritage just as I was made; just as I am."

"You're an idiot."

She returned the dagger to her sash and bowed to the group, keeping her eyes up to watch them. With a matter of care and reverence, Sinopa withdrew a katana from her sash. The blade shimmered in the afternoon sunlight.

She opened her stance to maintain balance due to the shifting of the ship from the waves. "One at a time, or all at once?" she asked.

Sire held his hand out. One of his gunmen passed him a handgun. He checked the chamber then thumbed the safety.

Sinopa cut her eyes to a small white bird on the guardrail nearby. She blinked, seeing a dove. "Hachiman..." Her gaze moved beyond the bird on the metal rail, and flitted towards the ocean. She blinked again, watching the angry churning water. "Susanoo, too? It would be my honor to perform for you both." She turned the sword about just in time for her ears to flicker at the sound of a gunshot.

Sire's round struck her katana. She tightened her grip, deflecting the bullet. Sinopa glanced down at the knick in the blade. Her golden eyes lifted, returning her gaze to Sire behind the extended pistol.

Her palms stung from the vibration in the handle. Sinopa willed the velveteen padding of her fox-paws to cover her palm, creating a buffer to better handle the sting.

The kitsune calmed, even as the sensation of adrenaline flooded her body. She saw the twitch of a gun from another gunman. Her sharp golden eyes measured the angle and anticipated his shot. By the time his gun fired, the katana founds its place in the path of the round, sending it ricocheting into the deck.

Sinopa shifted her weight. The katana moved in a circular motion, deflecting a third round. It came up to a twelve-o'clock position and she saw a reflection in the nicked blade, but it wasn't her own. Staring back at her was a beautiful woman dressed in an opulent shade of green. Tamamo smiled with a nod of approval in the reflection.

One of the men closest to her brought his rifle up and gazed down the sights of the barrel. Sinopa pivoted gracefully upon her feet and extended her arm then followed through the motion.

The blade slid through the weapon and the hilt of his wrist, removing the attacker's left hand. His right one glanced across the side of her face. She followed through the turn by extending her own left palm, which glowed with the power of her foxfire elemental magic - fire.

The gun burst in his right hand, throwing him back. The magazine exploded from the heat transferred into the bullets.

She extended her right arm, slicing through another man's handgun. The Glock came apart at an angle. The spring burst from the barrel as it came away from the slide and the rest of the weapon. The chambered bullet popped free.

Sinopa's ears flickered and her tails billows out behind her, caught in the wind. As she twirled away from the second attacker, using her body as the power behind her sword, she noticed someone diving at her.

Sinopa doubled over, light and graceful on the balls of her feet. Her attacker passed harmlessly over her and careened into the deck. She pushed her right arm out and buried the katana into another attacker. Her left hand moved to the dagger on her sash.

In one quick motion, she unsheathed the small, short weapon and flung the blade into the man that dove over her. It disappeared through his back, severing his spinal cord. His body went limp and the momentum behind his dive carried him into a slumped form, sprawled out on the deck near the bulkhead.

The three-tailed kitsune brought her left hand back to the handle of the katana and she used it to deflect yet another round. The assault rifle's bullet created a brilliant orange spark and the sword vibrated violently in Crevan's padded palms. She grit her teeth and ignored the sting.

The sword moved before her in an upward position and caught another man in his hip. It continued up, through his torso, and came free beneath his opposite arm.

Sinopa turned away from him and twirled the sword skillfully. The attacker stood still behind the kitsune; he trembled in the wind. Blood soaked through his uniform. He began to stumble forward, falling towards his knees but his upper torso fell back from a gust of wind, separating the upper half from the lower.

The wet slap of flesh against the deck caused her ears to flicker in irritation. Her eyes shifted, glancing over her shoulder. She cut her gaze forward then moved forward to another man.

The soldier withdrew two stun batons from his gear belt. He twirled them about, activating the prods, and putting on a show of acrobatic fanfare. "Stay back, Alan," he told a nearby man with an assault rifle. "You're mine, lady." He twirled the batons again, causing the electronic prongs to hum from the current glowing between them. "Let's do this."

Again, she perused her sword, now irreparably dented and nicked from battle. But still sharp. She flung the katana firmly. The wind caught the blade and carried it in a wide arc, twirling through the air.

Her blade flew through the rifleman standing by, piercing the side of his skull behind his right eye. The sword emerged from his left temple. The gunner clamped down on his trigger as he fell, sending a volley of gunfire into the air. One of the rounds struck the man whose hand was now missing. Several more rounds ripped through the man with the stun batons. All three dropped to the deck.

The dove on the railing flinched but remained otherwise still. It ruffled its feathers then smoothed them down.

Sinopa removed the third blade on her hip opposite of the sheaths for her dagger and katana. It shined with brilliance, brighter than her prior sword, glinting brightly in the late afternoon sunlight. It almost had a glow all its own.

She gazed over it, fondly, speaking to Sire. "You probably know nothing of my culture. My Katana was made in the method of the Soshu Kitae, used by famous sword smith, Masamune. I fear it is damaged beyond repair from the bullets of your people and I will mourn it at an appropriate time. Behold. This blade is known as the kogitsune-maru. It is a gift from my sensei, Tamamo-no-Mae."

Sire ground his teeth. "Tamamo-no-Mae?"

"Ah, you've heard of her?"

Sire clenched his hands into fists. "We've met indirectly." He sneered in anger and disgust. "She might even remember me. At the time I called myself Abe no Yasuchika, an astrologer who was only just beginning to learn of my ability to bend the will of people with my words and nearness. As I told Narihito-shinno, she needed to be put to death because she was the only _being that the Emperor listened to more than _me. I repaid him by killing the only woman he truly loved - not his wives, but his courtesan. And in this closeness to him, I poisoned him just as I had done to the real Abe no Yasuchika, whose place I took. I left Narihito to die brokenhearted, thinking he'd been betrayed by Tamamo-no-Mae." A smirk of satisfaction came with a glimmer of delight in his eyes.

Sinopa trembled with anger and heartache for her trapped sensei. In the reflection of the sword, she gazed down upon Tamamo. The white-haired Asian woman looked back up at Sinopa from the blade, tears streaming down her porcelain cheeks.

Crevan's own eyes glistened from the intensity of emotions that she felt. She drew in a slow breath and exhaled calmly. "You ... are quite old." She swallowed, overcome by an intense mishmash of feelings.

"Indeed I am." He saw the glistening in her eyes and nodded to the remaining soldiers who unleashed a barrage of rounds into Sinopa's body from multiple angles.

Sinopa slumped to the ground.

Sire smirked. "That took the wind out of her sails. I can manipulate without the use of my ability, after all, three-tail." He glanced back at the remaining soldiers and said, "Check her and take the head. And bring me that sword she had."

The men approached Sinopa's motionless form. The fabric of the gi, and the lengthy strands of her hair danced in the wind. Glistening ruby rivulets shined on the cloth of her gi jacket.

Upon approach, she sat up and thrust the blade into the nearest man's chest. Her gaze narrowed, seeing it wasn't Sire.

She stood up, withdrew the sword then twirled it about. The blade sang a note like a tuning fork. It cleanly removed the man's head, dicing through the remaining soldiers that surrounded her on all sides. They dropped away, leaving a splattering gush of sanguine crimson across the deck.

"You ... are a foolish man. You cannot kill me with mortal weapons. You should already know this. Why else would you have needed to brainwash Konoe into ordering supernatural hunters to lead an army after Tamamo-no-Mae-sama?"

In the background, the head from the last soldier rolled off the helipad and splashed into the ocean followed by the crashing of another wave to drown out the sound.

The dove, on the rail, tilted its head, watching with interest.

Sinopa narrowed her gaze. "It is now the two of us. Pick up the dagger and cut your belly open from left to right."

"That ritual is done before an audience with ritualistic attire."

She pointed back behind Sire towards the man with the dagger sticking up out of his torso, back where she'd started the fight, earlier. "Pick it up."

"What's wrong? You can't kill me by yourself? I should have suspected as much. Bring me the Little Fox sword," he demanded in an attempt to dominate her with his ability.

Sinopa balked. "I shall do no such thing!" She wiped the blade on the nearest body, a man whose arm she's cut open near the beginning of the duel, cleaning each side on his black jacket.

"I said do it!"

"I'm giving you the chance to take your own life; to make up for the shame of your deception to my sensei and her beloved. Pick up the dagger."

"I think not." He fired his weapon. Sinopa deflected each of the next eleven rounds until the slide of his pistol popped back.

He threw the gun to the deck and reached for the katana that jutted out of the body of a nearby soldier's skull. He took it firmly in both hands. "I'm far older than you, little three-tail. I assumed mortal weapons would kill a mere three-tail Kami. But perhaps all I need is her own sword; yes, that should do the trick. I cannot imagine you would fight very well without your precious head attached to your body, girl. And I have had a great deal more years to practice my sword play, so you'll pardon my confidence with the weapon, won't you?"

Sinopa stood her ground. She leaned over at the hip, bowing only slightly.

Sire, however, did not return the respect of a bow. Instead, he felt a gust of wind at his back and leapt into it, racing towards her.

Crevan brought her sword up, blocking his downward thrust.

He brought his knee up, knocking her back then swung at her again.

Sinopa used the hand-guard at the base of the kogitsune-maru blade to parry his attack. She shifted the sword, using the base of the hilt to strike him in the ribs then she dropped to a sweeping kick.

With surprising grace, Sire leapt over her leg and brought up his in return. His foot caught her shoulder, knocking her flat onto her back.

Her eyes opened seeing him on the attack again. Sinopa rolled away. His katana struck the deck, chipping away a piece of the gray helipad.

She shoved him back with a kick then brought her knees up to her chest and performed a kippup. Her tails caught the wind again and swayed off to her left, parallel to her lengthy hair. Sinopa landed gracefully on her feet.

The two combatants rushed back into the fray.

He tried to attack her with the sword but she moved into close quarters, making it difficult for him to make use of his the lengthy blade.

The kitsune opened her jaw and clamped down on his wrist then struck him in the neck with her left fist. Sinopa pivoted on her foot and used her elbow to catch him in the chin. When he stumbled back, she lunged at him with the sword again, and swiped the blade across his left hand.

Sire cried out in anguish, losing his pinky and ring finger in the attack. The two digits dropped to the deck and he screamed in rage.

He sprinted for her, bellowing a guttural shout. Sire used the nicked katana to defend from her attack, intended for his throat. With superior masculine body strength, he forced her arms up, leaving her midsection undefended. Sire relinquished the katana to his bloody left hand.

His right hand moved to a combat knife on his belt and he plunged it into Sinopa's exposed belly.

She cried out in agony but instinctually brought her left knee up. It struck him between his thighs, sending the man to the deck, winded.

She dropped her sword at her feet and reached, with both hands, to withdraw the knife from her gut but its serrated design made it too painful to pull.

All at once, the combat knife disappeared from Sinopa's stomach.

She looked up at Karla, high up on the top of the ship, watching. She knew Karla couldn't attack Sire due to his ability, but silently said a prayer of thanks for the aid.

Crevan looked around for her sword only to spot Sire getting to his feet with both the katana and the kogitsune-maru in his hands.

Bleeding and battered, Sinopa ground her molars together and stood her ground.

"You're defenseless. I've won. I'll have your head," Sire snapped, still angry and in extreme pain from having lost two fingers. "Any last words, bitch?"

"Jules told me of a Japanese band of which he was quite fond. Have you heard of Dir en Grey?"

"What? What the hell are you talking about?"

"They have this song," Sinopa panted. She put her left hand over the bloody wound beneath the jacket of her gi. "The song, Berry."

"What is your point, you red-headed baka?"

She spit blood on the deck from where she'd bit the inside of her cheek during the combat. A smirk came to her lips. "I refer to the lyric, 'I'm gonna blow your head off like raspberry jam.'"

Sire smirked and stalked in her direction, dual-wielded swords held akimbo.

Sinopa Crevan clenched her right hand into a fist.

Sire dropped both swords and cupped either side of his face with a look of incredible pain. Steam emanated from his eyes, nose, mouth and ears, but quickly dissipated in the wind. He screamed in excruciating agony and flailed with despair. His eyes began to melt, dribbling down his cheeks.

A brilliant flame rushed up from his shoulders, engulfing his head and hair in a brilliant orange glow. He fell to the deck, rolling about in a fit of wild spasms.

The more he screamed, from the heat forcing air out of his lungs, the tighter she clenched her fist. Her nails caused blood to drip from her palm.

The immense heat caused his head to burst similar to food popping, overcooked, in a microwave. His body became still and the fire caught on his clothes, slowly spreading over his form. His left leg twitched. The fire consumed his remains, flames bellowing tall in the wind.

Sinopa opened her right hand then calmly reached for the kogitsune-maru. With a measure of reverence, she gazed into the blade. "That was for you, Tamamao-sama. I have avenged your wrongful death and the murder of Konoe, your beloved. Your honor has been restored as the truth will now be known by all who listen to my words."

She cut her gaze to the dove on the rail. The small grayish-white bird opened its wings and took off into the wind. "How can such a small bird be so far from land?" She glanced back down at the blade then lifted her eyes. Karla stood directly in front of her.

The succubus moved forward, mindful of the sword in Sinopa's grasp, and gently wrapped her arms around the kitsune then whispered, "Thank you," into her triangular furred ear.

Sinopa rested her chin on Karla's shoulder and sighed to relax her breathing. "It was my honor to avenge the atrocity he forced on you."

A sound caused her left ear to flicker listlessly. She looked up from Karla's embrace, peering over the succubus' shoulder, and saw men in enlisted uniforms lined up on the decks. She realized they had watched the whole fight. Their cheering warmed her heart but also brought about the emotion of victory.

Warm wetness trickled down her cheeks - tears of testament and tribulation. Tears of pride, and relief that it was over. Tears of happiness that she brought honor to her sensei. She tried to hold them back but couldn't, and cried into Karla's shoulder.

"Hey, hey now, it's over. Sinopa, you won."

"I cannot help it, Karla-san. It hurts so much, but I'm so happy. Not that I took their lives, but that I restored honor and humility to Senpai. That I saved everyone without help. I do not know why I am so emotional over this." She continued to cry, swallowing down the tightness in her throat. "I was so angry with him and now it's over. I performed for Susanoo and Hachiman. I performed for Tamamo, and all of you who watched from afar."

Sinopa slid down from Karla's hug and knelt on the deck.

"Are you okay?"

"Hai. I will ... iie, I'm not well, Karla-san."

"The stab wound?"

"Iie, not the stab wound. My fourth tail will breach very soon. I fear this was my test to earn it."

"That's great, right? Why would you fear?"

"Because I am worthless to you. It would be akin to walking around and trying to fight our foes while in labor. Forgive me. I would be more of a hindrance than a help."

Karla kissed her forehead. "You'll be more powerful, right? If we don't make it out of there, you will be the one that comes and rescues us."

"Hai. That I could do."

Seconds later, one of the medics rushed out onto the aft deck with two armed escorts.

Careful and mindful of Karla's gentle embrace, Sinopa returned the Little Fox sword to its sheath at her hip and slipped an arm around Karla's shoulder.

"From one demon girl to another, you're going to be fine, vixen."

"I'm honored by your confident belief in me, Karla-san."

The succubus moved adjacent to Sinopa, helping to support the kitsune vixen's weight.

Off to the side, Sire's charred remains crackled and sizzled to a smoky husk as the fire burned itself out. Another Coast Guardsman came over and threw a blanket over the body to snuff it out all the way.

Beyond, Sinopa could see Medical Examiners moving up onto the deck with another armed escort flanking them. Before she knew it, there were too many people to count on the helipad.

"You were stabbed, miss; I need you to lay flat on your back and open your shirt so I can see the extent of the damage. I have someone coming with a stretcher. Don't move around too much, alright?"

Karla helped Sinopa to the deck. "I wanted so badly to put that knife in his skull but I couldn't."

"It is quite alright," she replied just loud enough to be heard over the wind. "I know. He was worse than I realized, Karla. He is the reason Tamamo-no-Mae was killed in the physical realm. I knew I had to slay him to avenge her, to avenge you, and every life he had ever touched in a negative way."

Karla moved back some, giving the medical personnel space to work. "I appreciate everything you've done, Red. I really do."

Sinopa flinched at the feel of an alcohol swab on the skin of her tummy. "That stings," she said with a hint of a pout. Then she added, "The fourth tail is imminent now. I can't feel my legs; I remember it happening like this when my third came in. I couldn't walk for two days."

"Just relax," bade Karla. "The Captain of the ship saw the fight. He ordered snipers to shoot the asshole and they couldn't do it. So he grabbed one of the weapons, pointed it at Sire and ... couldn't pull the trigger, either. I think he realized that guy wasn't an ordinary man. And considering the way Sire's body burst into flames ... people are wondering. You'll notice neither of us are in cuffs right now."

Sinopa laid back on the deck the rest of the way, letting the medic work. "Karla, what about your boat?"

The succubus stood up and gazed out over the water. "The Busty Belle has been tied up to another Coast Guard ship, out across the way."

"Excuse me," came a masculine voice from behind. Karla turned towards it. The man removed his officer's hat and said, "Miss Karla Howard?"

"Uhm ... I'm kind of busy here at my wounded friend's side, pal."

"You know Agent Gregory Watson?"

"Yeah, he works for the US Government. CIA or something, right?"

"No, he works for a classified sector of the Department of Homeland Security. He's being airlifted out to this ship to speak with you, Miss Topaz Parker and others - four of which are not part of our group. Do you know their location?"

"It's difficult to explain," Karla said. "I'll give you a full debriefing, or whatever the term is; just give me some time. My friend, here, just saved all of your lives and took a knife to the gut for her troubles. So take a hike." She waved her hands, selectively teleporting the Captain, Commander and twenty-six non-medical personnel from the aft deck, putting everyone in the galley.

Back out on the aft deck, Karla stumbled. She cleared her throat and said, "Go get some gedunk, sailors, and leave us alone. Christ."

"Ma'am?"

Karla turned towards one of the medics and said, "That was probably too many people at too far a distance. Must've been the adrenaline."

"Ma'am, you're pale and your eyes are..." The voice trailed off, drowned out by a ringing in her ears.

"I'll be fine, I just need a moment," she said.

"Karla-san," Sinopa said with sudden concern in her voice. "You are over-exerting yourself! You need rest."

"Definitely overdid it." Everything felt fuzzy. "This sucks." Karla felt weightless, then she felt arms around her. "Growing a baby is tiring." The deck rushed up towards her; everything went dark.

X

X

5:55pm AST Atlantic Atoll

** Reno, Evan, Jules and Fox** spread out around a man on the bridge, facing out to sea. Jules kept his gun trained forward, Reno had his hands open and ready, Evan and Fox took up similar postures.

No one spoke. The lone man reached up to where a modernized keypad was duct taped to the metal panel between the large square windows. He simply pressed the 'enter' key then folded his arms and, in a soft tone, said, "It's too late now."

"What?" Reno asked overtop of Evan's identical question, their voices not exactly in sync. Reno glanced at the boy then back to the man by the windshield panels. "Too late for what?"

"Maybe you've noticed - the waves have started," said the man. "The carrier is marooned. It's too late. If you four have made it up here then you cleared out most of my men. So I failed my escape plan, I failed my men as their leader ... but at least I have accomplished my mission."

"Scant solace," Jules said, "Two failures can't be righted by one success. After eight years as an officer, monsieur, I've learned that if the men don't return home, the mission wasn't a success."

"I never said it was a success." The man turned to face them, arms still folded. "I completed my objectives. It's better than nothing at all. Did you know this island isn't actually an island at all?"

"Run that by us again?" asked Fox.

The man shrugged unsympathetically. "It was a mountain top. The water eroded it down to a flat beach over time. Did you think we ran this island because it was logistically worth our time? We have this carrier. It would have made more sense to use the carrier as a base of operations and kept it closer to the dome. We can launch small subs from it. We can land on it and take off from it despite the lack of a catapult. Helicopters, VTOLs - we had options. No. This island was significant for other reasons."

Evan glanced at his friends then back at the man. "I don't suppose you could just tell us since you think it's too late." He ran his fingers over the eighty-year old controls then narrowed his gaze at the man. "What are we too late for?"

"A faulty power core was in the heart of this mountain. Some say it's the reason that ships and planes were lost in the nearby Bermuda Triangle but that isn't accurate. The real reason is because there was a lot of ship and aircraft activity back in a different time. A cleaner world meant instruments could freeze at high altitudes. Fog could kill an airman; inefficient fuel tanks could kill a squadron who presumed too much without modern instrumentation. But the rumors of a faulty piece of otherworldly technology so close to the edge of the triangle ... that was true. My crew came to destroy it."

"Pardon?" Reno leaned against the helm console. "You blew up a power core of...? What?"

"First Age technology. It was designed to lock humanity out when the oceans were shallow."

"Shallow?" Jules asked with an incredulous tone.

"Yes," said the ship's commanding officer. "Don't you boys know anything? If you go back far enough, the glaciers were much larger. There were islands and cities on the water that have been covered for dozens of centuries. The oceans have been rising for the last ... at least fifteen millennia; since the last ice age. Not that you idiots would know how long a millennia is."

"Oh here we go," Evan said with a shake of his head. "Now you're going to school us on the difference between a millennium, epoch, an aeon, and a megaannum. Well guess what? I don't want to hear some crap about whatever you're trying to sell us to waste time. So what is it that we're too late for?"

"I've activated the remaining four bombs." the man glared at Evan, "We've been here a fortnight. You have a tide left; that's three juty's. That's a jiffy multiplied by sixty. Do you understand that?"

Evan looked at Reno, who glanced at Jules.

Fox sighed. "A fortnight is two weeks, gang; they've been here half a month. A jiffy is fifteen seconds. A juty is five minutes. A tide is fifteen minutes. When you've stolen art and books of serious age and worth, you learn all that crap over time because it's how people used to talk. We're running out of time, he activated the timers."

"Shame a wise man will die," said the commanding officer.

"Yeah. We have a plan. So, we've been teaming up over the last 'pathell'. My family has been working against you people for the last 'lustrum.' Do you really care about something that belongs in a crossword puzzle?" Fox shook his head.

"For a young man that knows the names for the passing of time so well, you're running out of it rather quickly."

Parker began pacing. "An Indication is fifteen years, a jubilee is a half century. Who flipping cares, man? We didn't kill your men. We've rendered them unconscious and locked them up. If you set those bombs then their death is on your hands." Fox turned to the team and asked, "Okay, so I disarmed the control panel on the units. This guy must have had a remote bypass. We gotta get off this island quick. What's the plan? Glass boat thing?"

Jules shoved the commanding officer back and pointed to one of the glass panels, "Evan, use the metal and glass and turn this into a mirror, mon ami."

"Uhm, sure." Balmoral put his hands on one of the windshield panes and focused. The opacity of the window changed until it reflected the group.

Jules stepped in front of it and said, "Tamamo-no-Mae-sama. I know you can hear me. I know you and Sinopa have had your rough patches but we're separated right now and I have less than fifteen minutes to find a way off an island. Else we're all dead. Now, I know you and I have been off to a bad start but I am asking you, please, mademoiselle kyuubi, I need your help."

"Jules, I'm not so sure that..." Reno trailed off with a blink. He stared at the mirror, watching the image distort into that of an extremely gorgeous human-looking woman. She wore Japanese-style garment with sleeves that hung from elbows all the way to hip level. "Wow. That's new. Cool dress."

The woman furrowed a single white-furred brow. "Kimono. Hand made silk and hand painted, ignorant Westerner."

Evan frowned. "Reno, even I know the difference between a kimono, an Oni and a..."

"Dude, it's because you're a geek."

Jules waved at them to get everyone to settle down. He turned back to the reflection, facing Tamamo's image and said, "I would be in your eternal debt if you could help us leave this island."

Tamamo smirked and perked up with a sardonic, devious grin. "My eternal debt, hmm?" She eyed him a moment then her expression changed to a somewhat forlorn look and she shook her head slowly. "I cannot ask for anything from you, Jules-san. For I now have an obligation to Sinopa-chan. She has proven my innocence, restored my honor and, in my name, she fought Sire to his death. I will transport you and your coterie to her location."

Jules brought his hands together and bowed to show respect. Tamamo eyed him for a moment then a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "You've lived in Japan for a time. Stationed in Yokosuka. What are your thoughts on Shinto?"

Jules blinked at the odd timing of the question. "Uhm. Well, it's not an easy subject for me. I'm seeking marriage with a Shinto kami. But I had reservations about it in the past. Before I understood it or the one-hundred-million-plus people who hold it as their preferred religion. Then again, I'd never met a goddess before now, either."

"Humor me: Tell me of these reservations."

Jules looked nervous. He eyed his watch then looked back to the mirror, knowing they were starting to run low on time. "Well, Tamamo-sama, I now understand that Shinto is more about ritual purity than Emperor-worship but my misunderstanding of it stems from a very brief period of history. From 1937 to 1946."

"Go on. I already knew you had reservations - I wish to hear of them. I will explain myself if I am entertained by your answers."

"We're running out of time," whispered Fox. "We won't have enough time for a plan-B. Kitsune are sometimes known as tricksters. This might be her way of..."

Jules looked at his friends then back at the mirror. He gestured for Fox to relax. "Fox, you're Sinopa's son. That's a significant factor, here, mon ami. In order for a god or demigod to have any power to make a difference, you need to give them faith. Let's all have a bit of faith, here, oui?" His eyes remained locked with the reflection.

Tamamo offered a wry smile. "Go on, Jules-san."

"Buddhism is a religion of compassion and tolerance. Shintoism worships the Emperor as, basically, the direct descendant of the Sun Goddess and was the driving force behind the military aggression. I was put off by the thought of the Japanese people whitewashing their Second World War history, refusing to officially apologize and recompense the victims of its war crimes, slave labor, comfort women, germ warfare, the rape of Nanjing's population - a third of a million people."

Fox swallowed. "Jules, don't talk down on Japan to her. You need to sweet talk her."

"I appreciate his honesty. It is refreshing to hear it without reservation," she said to Fox, then cut her golden gaze back to Jules. "Please continue."

"Thee, ah, most infuriating place I've been to in Japan is Hiroshima's Peace Memorial Museum. The exhibit, up until around the change of the millennium, made it sound as though the Japanese people were frolicking and having peaceful wishes on all until suddenly the Evil Americans dropped a nuclear bomb on them for no reason at all. Like they forgot who started the drama and the war. Like they forgot about Pearl Harbor. When Japan conquered other nations, they spit on that country's culture and belief system. We did no such thing, however. We were respectful."

"Oh? Go on, round-eye. Explain it in your words. You have a lot on your shoulders. Vent."

Jules pursed his lips together, glanced at his watch again, then sighed, knowing everyone was at her mercy. "General McArthur had an appreciation for the Japanese culture. America worked to preserve and rebuild the country after the war ended. We wanted to preserve the Monarchy, cultural heritage and the natural beauty of the country. Whereas Japan's legacy towards its neighbors has been to invade them, murder them, loot them, rape and pillage the poor and tell its people that there's a difference between themselves and other human beings. Very racist. Aggressive. Enormous egos. And to this day, they still haven't 'officially' taken responsibility for their actions, madam kyuubi."

Tamamo tapped a nail upon her lower lip and nodded slowly. "I see your side. Tell me what made you change your mind about the Shinto religion?"

Jules folded his hands. "Ma'am - that there's a term of respect in English speaking countries - I came to realize that the Japanese people weren't acting on orders of their gods. They were acting on behalf of their beloved Emperor. The Emperor was acting as he wished. No disrespect to Hirohito, but he was thinking of his race as a country, not as the human race. At least in his youth. But people dun' remember him fer that. They remember'em as the symbol of the postwar period where Japan recovered from two nukes, and became the second largest economy in the world at one point."

Tamamo tapped her lacquered nail against her lower lip again. "And it would seem that Emperor Showa, a name that means 'abundant benevolence,' would show how his people saw him. But perhaps you're right; the people of America or China or Great Britain would not remember him in such a way."

"No, mademoiselle. Many remembered him as the war emperor that aligned with Hitler and attacked America."

"What if I told you that Showa-tenno was, in fact, consorting with a Shinto demigod? His story is one of the greatest ever told, Jules-san. He wanted to lead his people to greatness and was tricked by a fox and a dove. He didn't just ascend to power. He seized it. He controlled it with gusto. He sought to chip away at the neighboring countries to break them down of their old ways with the express desire to expand the Empire of Japan. For following the fox and the dove, he was dealt the heartbreak that was Hiroshima and Nagasaki. He learned an invaluable lesson. That instead of being closed minded to the needs of his country, he would have to learn how to be a leader worthy of being open-minded to the needs of the world - something never considered by Japan until the modern age."

"Yes, ma'am, I suppose that would be new and different. Something no previous Emperor would have had to deal with in the past." Jules stole another glance at his watch, growing somewhat nervous.

Tamamo continued. "Showa-tenno gave back to the world in his own way by leading Japan into the computerized revolution that provided world-changing technology for the rest of the globe."

"Ma'am, please, with all due respect in the world, can you explain where we are going with our conversation? Please?"

Tamamo nodded. "Do not hate Shintoism because Showa-tenno had such an enormous lesson to learn. See him as the man who lived up to the name 'abundant benevolence' after his lesson was learned. Japan is now just as crucial of an ally to your country as Great Britain. It seems your country, before the twenty-first century, had a history of turning their enemies into their closest allies. Proof they do not harbor grudges. Very honorable. I want you to analyze that, Jules-san."

"We try our best. We've screwed things up with sanctions against the Middle East, leading up to the collapse of the Soviet Union. We abandoned the South Vietnamese. We pushed Cuba away yet we detain our dangerous criminals in their country. We're not perfect."

"No. Humans never are. But your people have tried. Your people have forgiven. And so shall I."

"Ma'am?"

"I forgive your misunderstanding of Japan. I forgive you for being Sinopa's lover. I forgive you for calling me. You're lucky I was in the Hallway of Reflection."

"Yes'm. Thank you, ma'am."

Tamamo turned her gaze to Evan, Reno and Fox. "Your people, the Esoteric Community, has been wronged. Your people have been killed and brought to the brink of extinction. But when the dust settles and the confusion, and fog of this war have settled ... I want you to have peace with humanity - the race that nearly destroyed yours. I want you to learn as Showa-tenno learned during his time in the mortal realm as Hirohito-tenno. You've fought powerless people with your abilities and, while you've all shown incredible restraint by letting most live, you could have ignored those lesser beings. They killed your kind and one day you may have the desire for revenge. Be like Emperor Showa and give back to this world, instead."

Evan glanced at Reno and Fox then back at the woman in the reflection. "Yes, of course. Showing a dog compassion is how to stop it from biting your hand."

"You must also earn its respect, Evan-kun. Do not forget that. The dog does not understand that you've shown it mercy. It does not appreciate your clemency. But it does see that you feed it, that you're reliable and that you are compassionate and loyal to it. In time, you earn the dog's respect that is manifested in the form of loyalty."

Evan blinked with incomprehension.

She frowned thoughtfully then said, "You've kept the CIA man alive. Now he and his people will return the favor. "

"I ... I understand, miss."

Finally, Tamamo-no-Mae turned her gaze back to Jules. "And now that you've made peace with Shintoism, I want you to learn how to sculpt marble or stone. I want you to erect a statue of a kitsune in your future home and I want you to bring rice and bean kurd to it by the bowl-full. I'm going to break our law and do something no god or kami has ever done before - I'm going to step in and have a direct impact on the lives of human beings. Direct 'divine intervention' is strictly forbidden to any except the Creator. But I'm doing this for Sinopa. Do we have an agreement?"

"Oui, Tamamo-no-Mae-Sama. Merci beaucoup." Again, Jules bowed in respect. This time, Reno, Evan and Fox bowed as well.

Tamamo smiled and put her palms against the mirrored surface from inside the reflection. Her palms appeared like the velveteen pads of an animal, flattening against the glass from within. She closed her eyes. The group of five humans disappeared from the carrier.

The group reappeared in front of a mirror in the damage controlman shop aboard a Coastguard Cutter.

Reno, Fox, Evan, Jules and the commanding officer from the carrier were face to face in the rather small room. The smell of barbershop supplies was strong and a mirror hung on the bulkhead held Tamamo's image. She nodded firmly at them.

The image of her body twisted and contorted then shifted until it showed the bridge of the carrier. The eighty-year old Conn illuminated brightly. Less than two seconds later a fireball engulfed the bridge, blasting the metal structure into scrap.

With the mirror on the bridge charred and melted, the image of the carrier faded then returned to that of Tamamo in the spirit realm. She touched her fingers to her lips then touched the inside of the mirror, facing the group. "The unconscious men aboard that ship were torn asunder in an instant. They did not suffer."

Her eyes shifted to the commanding officer from the destroyed carrier. "Their deaths are on your hands. I pray that it torments you for making the wrong life choices. But, like Showa-tenno, you have now learned your lesson. I hope you follow a new path to make it up to those who lost their lives in your place. You may start by converting your beliefs; I hope you will construct a kitsune statue in your next home. However, I will settle for you to cooperate when interrogated later on this day. We all have lessons to learn."

The man licked his lips but said nothing.

Tamamo returned her gaze to Fox and Jules. "We kitsune are known for tricking people, perhaps, but we're also known for teaching lessons to those who could learn no other way. I've broken the law by saving your lives. But I did it for Sinopa because she has restored my honor. My debt to her is repaid in full, for saving her friends, her son, and her mate. I must now go and seek forgiveness from my own superiors. I have my own lesson to learn, now, and must accept my punishment with dignity. Sayonara." Tamamo's image faded from the barbershop mirror, leaving the five men in the cramped room of the Legacy Class National Security Cutter.

"Make a hole," Jules told the group. "I want to see Sinopa." He pushed through the group, headed through the small room towards the door hatch.

"I'm with you," said Fox, "I also need to see Topaz and make sure she's alright."

"Right behind you guys," said Evan. "I almost never got to say goodbye to Patience. She's my first relationship and I haven't even given her the time of day or respect." The three of them moved into the hall and left the room.

Reno turned to Falcon's officer and sighed. "What's your name, pal?"

"Theodore."

"Well, Ted. Today is your lucky day. You lived through it." Reno forced Theodore's hand behind his back, then reached for the man's other. Nevada continued, "Until we figure out what to do with you ... you're under arrest for working for that dickhead boss of yours. You're charged with being a jerk on the wrong team until further notice. Now move. We're going to go find the brig, pal."

X

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Next Chapter: https://www.sofurry.com/view/671469