The Wise Shall Inherit Glory [B]

[Takaki Saeko]

"Skyfall" by Adele​

North face of the Momentum Deo, Kotani Approach
Eastern Kaminari no Kuni
…0900 hours

Methodically, he pulled himself up the sheer, iced-over wall of rock, hugging the face of the Momentum Deo with his torso even as it maddeningly turned to a reverse incline. Not possessing a bloodline or innate abilities that granted him control over the earth, he engaged in mountaineering the old-fashioned way, with a pair of ice axes, a rope and pitons, and lots of discomfort. The trailing edge of a recent blizzard shrieked in his ears, frosting his eyelashes and stinging his skin even through the multi-layer parka and cold-weather gear he wore. His mission was to infiltrate a mountain-top military installation used by PMC forces loyal to the Daimyo Amakusa Ryuu ro Kaminari, whose armies had swept the peninsula and occupied the majority of the land in the first strike of the ongoing civil war. From the mountain-top, he was to steal or destroy a vital communications array that the Ryuu were using to coordinate their forces in the area.

The actual execution of the mission would likely be easy – it was getting there that was the hard part. For stealth purposes, it was decided that the best approach would be to scale the mountain from the unfriendliest approach possible – the north face. Masao now rued that decision as he inched upwards. He swung an ice axe into the rock wall, feeling it sink into the stone with a satisfying clinking noise, and started to pull himself upwards.

With the sickening sound of crumbling rock and shattering ice, the cliff face suddenly gave way under the pressure of the ice axe and he now found himself tumbling downwards for what seemed an eternity. A sudden, painful jerking impulse now battered his midsection as the rope now reached the end of its slack and arrested his fall, barely held onto the cliff face now by a single piton and carabiner. The world swayed and spun crazily, and the wind howled in his ears, drowning out all else but the stinging snow needles hitting his face.

His life, quite literally, was hanging by a thread. He closed his eyes and forced himself to inhale deeply and much more slowly than every survival instinct and reflex screamed at him to. His body wanted to tense and flail – but doing so would only eat vital stores of ATP within and force his metabolism to become anaerobic, producing lactic acid that would only tire him and muddy his cognition. Opening his eyes slowly, he surveyed the situation, slowly, methodically, as he had been taught by those wiser than he many times before. He was suspended from an overhang by three meters of rope, and from what it looked like, only a single anchoring point. Sudden moves might dislodge the piton and send him ten thousand feet below for real this time. A sudden ringing in his headset now pierced his sensorium. Casually, he tapped a button under the skullcap on his head to acknowledge the source.

“This is Takaki,” he said brusquely.

“And this is your wife and Commander,” sounded a prim and slightly annoyed-sounding voice on the other end.

“Hello dearest. I’m kind of in a bind right now, can this wait?”

“Actually, it can’t. I’m recalling you back to Kumo. Your new mission orders and supplies will be delivered to you by Captain Takayama at the gates.”

“Am I to abandon the current infiltration?”

“Affirmative. I’m having Captain Shukketsuseinohtito continue in your stead.”

“Very well. Tell Joukuu not to cock it up. Over and out.”

With a sigh, Masao now pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a deep drag. Whatever this was, it was important enough for Rin to call him back from halfway across the country. Such things often carried a deep sense of foreboding – he had experienced enough foreboding to fill a lifetime’s worth, and as such was now only nonplussed at most.

Sometime Later​

It was now early afternoon in Kumo, and trails of smoke now rose over the village proper as hearths were now fired to begin preparations for dinner. One the way back, he had stopped by a nearby safehouse to deposit the supplies from the last, aborted mission, and change into his usual outfit. The mountaineering gear (minus an ice axe he had lost), plastic explosives, and ST-15 silenced crossbolter would all be picked up later by rotating staff working for the Sileo’s quartermaster and returned to its vast stores of equipment for other ANBU to use.

Wordlessly, he approached the gate and showed his passport to the shinobi on duty, not stopping to actually receive acknowledgment of his right to enter. As he strode through the opening, he caught sight of Takayama. Another affable but no-nonsense middle-aged man in the corps, he had Masao’s respect.

“Captain,” he said, nodding. “What does she have for me today?”

 

[Santaru Rin]

Takayama Shimada​

"Well," Shimada replied, chewing it over for a few beats, "There's a reason she recalled you, Vice Commander." From a notably dispassionate man like the captain, the hesitation was certainly... Something. He tugged a black, vinyl folio out of his overcoat and extended it to Masao. The cover page was embossed with Masao's designation, and stamped Άκρως Απόρρητον. After Masao accepted the folio, the captain folded his arms over his chest as though cold, and moved slightly nearer the Vice Commander to speak more quietly.

"The Sennin has been personally investigating a certain case pertaining to the events after the Prince's death. She used one of the students to retrieve a key. Since then, she has been directing a varied group of village personnel to retrieve artifacts she believes are relevant to the issue at hand. In the past three days, our analysts have developed intelligence based off of that key and some other items, along with information passed through some of our distant assets, that points to the resurgence of a certain cult which you may be familiar with from the days of the last Sennin Santaru." Shimada's dry tone flattened somewhat at the end.

"This cult has uncovered a weapon. We are not absolutely certain of its origins or additional functions, but the weapon must be recovered--that has become our operation's priority. So far, we have a historical rendering of the weapon and its location." One of the pages of the folio included a copy of that rendering--small, yet detailed.

"That is currently in a bunker beneath a speakeasy in the capital. We have some human assets in the area and one infiltrating the organization now, but they are in no position to provide you with assistance. This mission is strictly a snatch and grab. The longer it takes for them to figure out we were in and out, the better. The weapon is three levels beneath the speakeasy... Indicated in your documents, you'll find it on the map. The compound is essentially built inside what used to be a cistern before the water table shifted. We located the base after information on large numbers of disappearances started coming in. We pinpointed that place as the source. If that's a coincidence..." Shimada only shook his head. "There aren't any PMC personnel there, but they do have guards capable of using chakra. More than a few of the, ah, practitioners are also from the samurai class. Aside from manpower, we have no reason to believe that they have any sophisticated security in place. They have been relying on obscurity."

He glanced at his watch. This late in the year, the dusk came on so much more quickly. "You have tickets there. You might want to get one of the horses and get going to the relay station. You'll have plenty of time to read on the train." Suddenly, he looked up. "Almost forgot." He pulled out a thin box from an interior pocket of the overcoat. "Here."

 

[Takaki Saeko]

“The Cabal,” said Masao drily in response to Shimada’s hint about the resurgence of cults. He rubbed the space between his eyebrows. Yes – he was familiar with that organization, which had once taken a fellow operative hostage as bait to lure Ryuuto in for “conversion” to the worship of their master the Hitokage. The Santaru had refused to bend, and had killed the Cabal’s leader and direct subordinates in the process. The leader happened to be the Crown Prince of Lightning Country, along with the former Chancellor of the Bakufuu and the Grand Admiral of the Imperial Navy - all in all, not just some insignificant raving loonies. In many ways, the events of twenty five years ago had directly contributed to the chaos enveloping the country today. Ryuuto’s defiance of the Hitokage had also all but invited the demonic overlord to instigate a full scale invasion of Kumo, which had contributed many scars to many shinobi in the village, including Masao. It was known among the ANBU that the Cabal, although weakened significantly following that event, had never truly been extinguished. It seemed that now was the time for their resurgence. Can’t the wankers just wait until we have a Shogun again? he thought, exasperated.

"This cult has uncovered a weapon. We are not absolutely certain of its origins or additional functions, but the weapon must be recovered--that has become our operation's priority. So far, we have a historical rendering of the weapon and its location,” continued Shimada. Masao scrutinized the drawing, finding nothing special about it, as the Captain continued his explanation. Questions now sprung up in his head. How to gain access to the speakeasy, what its dimensions were, whether the cult had any specific protocols for entry or egress, the number of samurai he could expect to deal with, whether weapons would be expected on one’s person, dress codes for the speakeasy, security surrounding the sword in question, whether the place had electricity... But as Shimada had said, there were answers to his questions in the briefing materials. “Oh, almost forgot. Here.”

Masao accepted the box, opening it slightly to peer at the contents. Inside, a small pistol crossbolter, and a glass-encased human eyeball.

“NeoKonoha PPS in 10 millimeter short. Eight-bolt magazine capacity, tritium sights, and has been modified by our division to only fire in response to your chakra signature. If anyone attempts to use it other than you, the weapon will explode in their hand,” said Shimada. Masao now picked it up, making sure not to muzzle-sweep his compatriot. A small light emitting diode on the back of the grip now turned green in response.

“And this?” he asked, holstering the weapon and taking the disembodied eye out of the box now.

“It's a surprise,” responded Shimada.

“I get a bolter and a surprise eyeball for this mission of utmost importance.” Masao's tone of voice betrayed his annoyance.

“What did you expect? An exploding kwarimi target? That was the old version,” said Shimada, shrugging.

“Captain,” said Masao, turning to leave.

“Vice Commander,” responded Shimada, nodding back as the two men parted ways.

Later​

It was easy to dissuade other passengers on board the commuter train to Raiden no Me from sitting next to or near him. All it took was a certain type of facial expression and unfriendly demeanor to make a jolly merchant or tired salaryman realize that he had somewhere else to be, another section of the train that he preferred, or that the noise around where Masao sat was simply too distracting. Shinobi often forgot these small, useful little social nuances, resulting in an over-reliance on chakra techniques.

Satisfied that he had enough space to avoid casual eavesdropping, he now perused the contents of the folio. It was time to see what the hell made this sword so important.