Girl Rides The Wind. Ch. 7, Sneak Preview

Chapter Seven

Chutes and Ladders

Emily lay quietly in her rack – the clock they shared showed 0439, and its red eyes blinked back at her. Lettering on the back of an old photo she’d tucked up against the wall above her head shook in the general agitation of the bulkhead. She reached it down and held it out before her face in the dim illumination of CJ’s nightlight. “It’s not over yet,” it read. “Sorry, kiddo.” A finger slipped along one edge and she mouthed the final words: “You can count on me. C.”

Three pictures mattered to her, two of which she’d salvaged from the charred remains of the home she’d grown up in. Those images of her not-yet-recognized mother sustained her childhood, and she kept those back at Michael’s house in Virginia. But this one, a gift from Connie, had become the shoulder she rested on in the darkest moments since, too precious to lose, and too important not to keep near. A sealed plastic bag kept it dry – her one concession to the hazards of shipboard life – but it had been in enough uniform pockets to round off two of the corners. 

She flipped it over and let her eyes roam across the fading colors on the other side. The jungle-camo green of the men’s fatigues had gone mostly grey, but Connie’s hair was still blond, tied back in a severe pony-tail. There she stood, on a wooden dock in Okinawa or maybe Manila, next to a single-engine seaplane, with three men. Two of them looked directly at the camera, perhaps surprised, but with faces too stony to show it, and a third man stood further back, shaded by the wing, glowering at something behind Connie. And how had someone even be able to take such a picture – this thought had always perplexed her. Was it a friend? But these people weren’t the sort to make friends, not even with each other. Or just an accident? However it had happened, she was sure Connie had demanded the camera, no doubt hissing a not-so-veiled threat on the photographer’s life.

Sneak preview of Ch. 5 of GIRL RIDES THE WIND, Bk 6 of The Emily Kane Adventures

Chapter Five

Shinai

“I challenge,” the voice said, and Emily stopped at the edge of the ring, turning to look over her shoulder. “My choice of weapon is shinai.”

“There is no need,” she said, rushing to the center of the ring to kneel at Kano’s feet.

“Do not insult me,” he growled. “You will accept my challenge… unless you think it is beneath you.”

“I would rather be your student, Sensei, than your opponent.”

A moment later, she stood on the side of the ring, as Ishikawa and Lt Otani helped her strap on protective equipment. Shinai are practice swords, made of bamboo strips bound together in a single shaft, lighter than a bokken, and with no edge. But in the heat of competition, an errant blow can still do some damage… and Kano did not look like he meant to tap her lightly.

“You should never have entered the ring,” Lt Otani said. “This could have been avoided if you had just let Sgt Tsukino have his victory.”

“Nonsense,” Ishikawa roared. “Moon behaved like a donkey. He deserved what he got, and she fought brilliantly.”

“What are they saying?” Durant asked from behind Lt Otani.

“Dice thinks I’m a fool, and so does Kiku-san.”

“No, Durantu-san,” Ishikawa said, in the best English he could muster. “I think Tenno-san is awe-inspiring. But she is probably in for a beating.”

“I’m sorry for getting you in to this pickle, LT,” Durant said, after Emily glowered at him.

“Pic-kel-u?” Ishikawa said, with one raised eyebrow as he tried to fit his mouth around the word.

“Just like tsukemono,” Lt Otani proposed.

Emily offered an alternative translation: “He means this is a difficult situation.” When Ishikawa still didn’t understand, she said, “I’m screwed.”

“Yes, yes,” Ishikawa said with a big grin. “Screwed.”

Sneak Preview Ch. 3 of GIRL RIDES THE WIND, Book 6 of The Emily Kane Adventures

Chapter Three

Camp Narashino

“Gaijin kusai,” said Sergeant Hiroki Tsukino, who the rest of the platoon knew as Moon. With a sneer and a snort, he looked across the table for moral support.

Takeishi Kano, who occasionally let his sergeants call him Tak, glanced at Emily sitting a few seats away, hoping she hadn’t heard, since he knew she’d understand. The third time club-hopping with their American guests in the Roppongi neighborhood of Tokyo had taken a toll on him, too. But he had other concerns.

“Shut it, Sergeant,” he growled in Japanese.

“C’mon, Captain. How many more hakujin bars do we have to take these guys to?”

“At least it’s not a karaoke bar this time,” Sgt Daisuke Ishikawa offered.

“Tenno, what are they going on about?” Captain Oleschenko asked.

“And do they have to call her that?” Moon said, loud enough to be heard the length of the table. “I mean, what the hell is she playing at with a name like that anyway?”

“Sergeant Tsukino thinks we smell bad, sir,” Emily said.

“We smell bad?” Sgt Durant chuckled. “What the hell does he think he smells like?”

“It’s an old prejudice, from the second world war,” she said. “Japanese didn’t eat much meat in those days, and they thought the GI’s smelled strange, you know, like old butter.”

Kano glowered at his men as she spoke. As irritating as he found her presence, having to guard against offending her made it so much worse. She wasn’t responsible for his father’s death, but she damn well reminded him of the infernal code of honor that propelled him to his end. His father had sacrificed himself to protect her, and he’d done it at the behest of the Crown Princess, even though it required accepting a pretended disgrace in order to go undercover… and even now, three years later, the Imperial Household still refused to acknowledge his sacrifice, or to restore his good name.

“Moon, you eat enough meat to smell like a slaughterhouse,” Sgt Ishikawa roared.

“What do you know about it, Dice?” Sgt Tsukino replied.

“Only what my nose tells me.”

Sneak Preview, Ch. 2 of GIRL RIDES THE WIND, Book 6 of The Emily Kane Adventures

Chapter Two

Treasonous Whisperings

A Few Weeks Earlier

The drive up from the gate of the Soga estate took a few minutes, giving Gyoshin Heiji time to reflect on the changing nature of fortune. More than a millennium had passed since her ancestors broke the power of Minoru Soga’s ancestors within the imperial court, and now the old man was willing to form an alliance with her family.

“How ironic,” she said, to no one in particular. “The Taika reforms undid them, and now they are much wealthier than us, who were only cheated of our influence during the Meiji reforms, barely yesterday.”

Of course, by that time scale, yesterday amounted to a century and a half. Exquisite gardens slipped by, tended by squads of men in pale green coveralls. The main house resembled a shrine from one point in the curving approach, but looked more like a castle as the car climbed the final slope. A man wearing gray gloves waited at the door, bowed from the waist, and ushered her into a lavishly furnished drawing room. Exquisitely carved wood panels decorated one wall, and a painted screen only partially concealed a small writing table in a far corner. She smoothed out a wrinkle in her skirt, and wondered if her navy blue suit, the standard-issue business attire of a civil servant—albeit a relatively high-level one—really suited the occasion.

“Welcome, Heiji-san,” the old man called out from across the room, walking stiffly with a cane. His daughter trailed behind, flowing tall and elegant in a rather non-traditional silk kimono, which, without an obi sash to bind it all together, resembled more a dressing gown than formal attire.

“I am honored by your invitation, Soga-san,” Gyoshin said, with a little bow that extorted more confusion from her than she’d anticipated. Should she bow to a vanquished enemy of her family, and if so, how low? She supposed he affected the cane in order to excuse himself from bowing as low as his ancestors would have been obliged to do a thousand years earlier. With a shiver and a shake of the head, she tried to put her grandfather’s preoccupations out of her mind. The Soga clan now held a controlling interest in one of the largest defense contractors, and was among the wealthiest families in Japan, and in her capacity as Industry Liaison for the Deputy Minister of Defense, she worked closely with Minoru’s daughter, who had assumed the position of Vice President at the Takenouchi Corporation.

“Gyoshin-san,” Jin Soga said. “Thank you for coming. We have much to discuss.”

“I will leave you two to talk,” Minoru said. “You must forgive an old man his hobbies.” With that he turned and hobbled off into another room.

Sneak Preview: Ch. 1 of GIRL RIDES THE WIND, Bk #6 of the Emily Kane Adventures

Chapter One

How did it come to this?

With the inflatable safely stowed among the rocks, and under the storm-flotsam she’d collected to conceal them from any planes, or satellites, during the two days they were still out on the open ocean, Emily Kane hauled Sergeant Durant across the beach and into the cover of the trees.

“Damn, you’re heavy, Mick. What the hell have you been eating lately?”

He groaned back at her, semi-conscious, and only able to push off one leg. Blood oozed from his hip and shoulder, and a gash along one rib covered by an ill-fitting bandage, and he winced when she adjusted her grip. Once she’d found him a comfortable spot in some brush beneath a eucalyptus tree, she turned back toward the shore.

“I don’t like the look of those clouds,” she said over one shoulder, not expecting a response. “This may not be good enough shelter. I’m going back for the water and bandages, and then we can try to move again.”

It didn’t take long to gather what she needed, scowling at the horizon the whole time, and when the inflatable bobbed loose from its makeshift mooring, she hauled it higher up onto the rocks, trading concealment for security “A lot of trouble for a raft we may never need again,” she muttered.

“You should’ve left me back there,” he croaked as she came within earshot again. “I’m just slowing you down. We both know what they’re after.”

“Are you questioning my command judgment, Sergeant… again?”

Sneak Peek of the Cover for Girl Takes The Oath

Well, it's here--no not book 5, Girl Takes The Oath, that'll be a few more weeks--but the cover, freshly devised, created, and designed, by Suzie O'Connell of Wellman Creek Books. You can't believe how wonderful it is to work with Suzie, and how amazing a design genius she is.

And so as not to disappoint, here's an excerpt from the book itself (sorry, not an action scene--We've got to save some surprises for the actual release):

“C’mon, hothead,” he heard Emily coo into Padgett’s ear. “You don’t want to give up this easily.”

The monitors beeped and flashed quietly, and something dripped into an IV, and Padgett’s chest rose and fell, but nothing else seemed to have changed. A dog-eared copy of Milton’s Paradise Lost lay on the blanket at the foot of the bed. Other than the monitors, his room was empty—no flowers, no pictures of loved ones, nothing personal.

“The nurses say he should come out of it,” Braswell said. “They just don’t know when.”

“Doesn’t he have anyone?”

“He’s a bachelor, and his parents live in a retirement home in Florida. I don’t think they’re strong enough to make the trip up here. And how’d you get in here anyway?”

“Apparently the nurses think I’m his fiancée.”

She leaned over Padgett, one hand on his cheek and whispered something in his ear, then kissed his forehead. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it back here until today.”

“Don’t sweat it, sister,” he said, trying to sound gruff. “We’re not your responsibility… but it is sweet of you,” he admitted after a moment.

And before he could prevent it, the girls skidded in to the doorway, Kiki peeking around his bathrobe, Haru standing boldly just inside the room, exceedingly pleased with herself. “Dad, this is my friend, Michiko.”

Tomoko stepped through a second later, and stood staring at an apparition—tall, strong, pretty in an exotic sort of way, with short black hair framing a face not quite fully Japanese in cast and shape, and not quite not; is this how her daughters would turn out?—until it occurred to her to ask the girl’s name: “Hajimemashite. O-namae wa nan desu ka?”

“Watashi wa Tenno Michiko to moshimasu,” Emily replied with a little bow.

“It is very nice to meet you, Tenno-san,” she replied in English, returning the courtesy. “My daughters do not speak Japanese, I am sorry to say. What an interesting name you have.”

“I told you she’s way cool,” Haru whispered.

“C’mon everybody,” Ed growled, and tried to usher them out, without letting go of the doorframe. “I need a moment alone with Miss Tenno.” Once Tomoko had managed to direct the girls down the hall, he took an uncertain step into the room. “Help me get into a chair.”

“You look weaker than I expected, Ed,” she said, with one arm around his waist

“It’s just the stitches. I’ll be fine in a day or two. But never mind about that. I wanted to tell you… remember that extradition order?” Emily nodded. “You don’t have to admit anything, but there’s no way it’s not you they’re after, not after this last episode.”

She didn’t say anything, not that anything she said would make a difference.

“It’s just that I’ve been thinking about this past month, and it doesn’t make sense.”

“My life has never made much sense,” she said, “at least, not to me.”

“That’s harsh, but it’s not what I’m thinking. I mean, the Chinese are clearly interested in you, but… you know, first they’re trying to extradite you, then they chase you through town, but no weapons. Next, it’s a gang of thugs who attack you with clubs and knives, and then this, a full-on assault team. Either they can’t make up their minds what they want from you…”

“Or it’s different groups.”

“At least two,” Braswell said. “You know what at least one of them wants, don’t you?” He couldn’t help but see the wheels turning behind her eyes. And yet, the strange thing is that she didn’t seem shaken by the reflection going on in her heart. Her eyes grew hard and dark—could they get any darker than they already were? Too dark for a co-conspirator, much darker than that.

Before Braswell could press his speculations any deeper, a tap at the door got his attention: two NCIS investigators flipping open badges, which they hardly needed, since he recognized them from a meeting in the Commandant’s office at the Naval Academy a few weeks earlier, and she must have, too—agents Graham and Everett.

Fight Scene from Girl Punches Out (Sen No Sen)

They stared at each other for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few seconds. Emily’s heart was divided. The loudest noise in her head demanded that she kill this woman, tear her life away. The notion that it might be the only way to end the threat she posed to her family and friends was not a part of this calculus, true as it probably was. A single strike to her throat would suffice. She found the prospect repugnant, even viscerally nauseating. Ba We would have struck her down in an instant, without any hesitation. Why couldn’t she?

As her breath moved in the familiar pattern, Emily could feel the hatred in Miss Park’s heart. She tasted her fear, as well as her resentment. But what did Miss Park resent her for? “She sought me out,” Emily thought. “She attacked my family, destroyed my life.” There was nothing to account for it. But deep down, without exactly knowing what it could mean, she felt how her apparent serenity galled this woman. Fear and resentment were not a stable combination. Emily waited for the attack she knew must come. She remembered Connie’s warning about her skills.

Sneak Peak, Ch. 1, Girl With A Blade (Kusanagi)

Here it is, at long last. The first preview from Girl With A Blade, the third book in the Emily Kane Series. It's just a draft, so please forgive any rough bits. Also, here's an early version of the cover. I'm still tinkering with it, but this is getting close to final version. Any feedback on the text or the cover is welcome, as always.

Chapter 1

The Roadhouse

“You sure you want to go through with this?” Connie asked. “I mean, it’s not like you owe these guys anything.”

“I’m not so sure. That night by the lake, they had that coming. But they don’t deserve to die for their mistake.”

“I get that. But is it really your problem?”

Emily said nothing. A glimpse into the darkness swirling at the bottom of her eyes was the only answer she had for her friend.

“Fine. You get three minutes. Then Ethan and I are bringing the cavalry. Now get going. We’ll be right behind you.”

Half an hour later, she tapped on a metal door with one knuckle of her left hand. The ride through the West Virginia countryside to get there had been breezy, buggy and exhilarating. Now she stood next to one of those steel frame structures with corrugated siding, probably a warehouse originally, then a machine shop or some sort of mechanic’s lair. The greasy dirt in the yard suggested as much. These days it contained a roadhouse, really an enormous bar, big enough to accommodate dozens of motorcycles out front in one long row, like tilted metal dominos. Her dirt bike held down the end of the line, upright and incongruous in that company.

The office abutted the main building on the far end, little more than a metal shed added on as an afterthought. Some loud grunting presaged the grizzled and quite large, paunchy fellow who eventually opened the door. He squinted at her in the afternoon light.

“Whaddya want?” he snarled. “The front door’s that way.”

“I’m here to see you,” she said, pressing lightly on his chest.

Tiny as she was in comparison, it should have been easy to keep her out. But, for whatever reason, he stepped aside and followed her in.

“Would you turn off the security cameras for me?”

“Get outta here,” he said, and reached out to grab her.

She parried and twisted his wrist until she could enforce compliance with a light thumb pressure applied to the back of his hand. His forehead hit the concrete floor. A slight, further twist brought tears to his eyes.

“I’d rather not have any record of what might happen in there. Shall we smash your equipment?” she asked, tipping her head toward the computer terminal on the desk. “Or just unplug it?”

One more twist and he nodded compliance. She released him and watched as he dusted himself off. As she expected, he lunged at her again, apparently thinking to pin her against the wall. Connie’s words echoed in her head: was it really worth this much trouble to help these guys? Another parry and twist, she controlled his wrist much more aggressively this time, and he found himself tumbling head over heels. After an awkward landing on the edge of the desk, he fell to the floor with a thud. As if through a dense fog, he looked up at her, until she struck him sharply across the nose with the heel of her palm. With blood oozing from his nose and mouth, he subsided into a heap and troubled her no more.

At the desk, she brought up the program to disable the security cameras. Another one sent a short web video, which was the whole reason she had come here in the first place, to the TV screens in the main room, set to repeat. When she entered through the door behind the bar, the video was already playing. All heads were turned to watch it as she made her way through the middle of the room.

On the screen, they saw a young woman fight off about a dozen of their number in a dimly lit parking lot. The violence was intense, even gruesome. Some of them cringed at what they saw. Broken limbs and joints, the girl left a bloody wake behind her as she spun through the crowd. The gang finally capitulated, limping off carrying their maimed, though that was not entirely captured on the video. The final image showed the girl glowering, an unholy fire in her eyes. Whoever held the camera must have flinched at the sight and stopped recording. A caption appeared under her face: “Do you know this bitch?”

She stood directly in front of three men at a table off to one side, a smaller man with a bandaged throat and an arm in a cast, and two large, muscular men. These must be the leaders of the gang, she was pretty sure.

“I got your message,” she said in a loud voice, pointing a thumb at the large screen on the wall behind her. “I’m here. What do you want?”

The room came to a hush as people gradually recognized her. Hard looking men moved toward her from all directions. A female voice cried out from across the room.

“It’s her, that bitch! There she is.”

The crowd in the bar was rather larger than what she faced that night by the lake, perhaps forty or more people. But they seemed perplexed by what they saw on the big screen. Some must have been there, and hung back this time. Others stood staring at the images on the nearest screen. Among the rest, a delicate suspense hung in the air, an inability to act against her. It surely wouldn’t last long.

“Don’t just stand there,” shrieked one of the women who kept company with the gang. “Do something! Grab her!”

Two men stepped forward, one reached for her tentatively.

“Last time you made me fight, it didn’t turn out so well for you,” she snarled at the three men still seated at the table. “And it could have been much uglier, if you’d made me fight to the end.” The bandaged man winced as she said this. The large man seated next to him raised his hand to the men gathering around her, as if to forestall any new violence. Not everyone was appeased by this gesture.

“What’s wrong with all of you?” the same woman cried. “You saw what she did.”

She charged at her brandishing a knife. Emily stepped to the side, controlled the wrist and the knife, twisting down and around, sending her sprawling head over heels onto a nearby table. Ordinarily, faced with such an attack, she would have broken the wrist, or the elbow, maybe dislocated the shoulder as well, and forced the hand holding the knife to slash through the hip or stab her attacker in the ass. She let the woman off easy, merely treating her to a hard, awkward landing.

By the time she turned to confront the men crowding toward her, her eyes were on fire with a hideous fury. The similarity to the final image of the video was unmistakable, though experiencing it in person could bear no finite relation to watching pixels on a screen. No one moved.

The rumble of several large vehicles was audible in the quiet. A moment later, the double doors burst open and a team of heavily armed men in body armor rushed in, as if on cue, followed by Ethan and Connie. They stood silently at one end of the bar, gun barrels leveled against the crowd. Everyone in the room backed away, anxious to appear less than usually threatening. The girl addressed the main table again.

“I’m not here to fight,” she said darkly. “I’m here to give you some friendly advice. Take that video down before it brings you real trouble.” No one said anything. After a moment, she continued. “There are people looking for me, nasty people, much nastier than you, who will trace that website back here. And when they come, they will rain destruction down upon you.”

Still silence. She turned to the large man who had forestalled any fighting with his hand. After a long, cool stare she asked his name.

“Luther,” he replied in a little voice.

She leaned over to touch his hand and surreptitiously slipped him a card.

“Here’s how you can get a message to me,” she said in a much softer tone just for him. His face relaxed noticeably as he looked into her eyes.

“What’s your name?”

“Emily,” she whispered. “Emily Kane. My friends call me Em.”

She turned and walked directly to her companions by the front door. The crowd parted, apparently eager to avoid touching her or impeding her progress. She smiled at Connie. A finger snap, a sharp gesture from Ethan and the armed men followed her outside. A moment later they were gone.

The mood in the roadhouse could not easily find a suitable register after she left. No one quite knew what to say. Most eyes looked to Luther for some sort of guidance. Prior to this moment he had not been the leader of the gang. But Emily’s attentions practically anointed him, against his will and much to the consternation of his bandaged chief. Later, in private, he burned the card after committing the information to memory.

Chapter 6, Girl Punches Out (Sen No Sen)

Chapter 6

Popularity

It had been a mere two weeks since the tournament in Norfolk. Emily won the black belt kumite, fighting in the men’s division since there were no other women competing at her level. Her victory, her total mastery of her opponents, had been little short of amazing to everyone there. Of course there were videos of her matches, lots of them, circulating on the web. They would go viral soon enough. A few kids in school had already seen them. Eventually everyone would see them.

Chapter 5, Girl Punches Out (Sen No Sen)

Chapter 5

Bows and Arrows

The ceiling of Emily’s studio was only partially finished. The area over the kitchen, bathroom, walk-in closet and dining table was overhung with standard acoustic tile under joists covered in turn by a rough plywood floor. It was just exposed rafters over the sofa, coffee table and the sleeping area. There were a few recessed lights here and there along the walls, but most of the floor above the ceiling was clear. She had often mused about moving the bed, or at least the mattress, to the attic and creating a sort of loft. The area under the peaked roof was barely high enough to stand up in near the center. But for a bedroom it would be high enough. On the downside, there was only one small window at one end which was shaded by a large magnolia tree. No direct light ever entered there, and very little air either. In the end, this reflection always ended with Emily deciding it wasn’t worth the trouble to move the bed, even if it would have added to her usable floor space.

Chapter 4, Girl Punches Out (Sen No Sen)

Chapter 4

Tea in the Kitchen

She sat in her pickup truck in the driveway musing about the doctor. She was so nosy, so insistent on tests. What was she not saying? Maybe that’s just how doctors always behave. What would those tests show? Could they provide answers to her own questions? It probably hadn’t occurred to her beforehand that a routine doctor’s appointment might become an existential inquiry.

Ch. 3, Girl Punches Out (Sen No Sen)

Chapter 3

The Doctor’s Office

Emily couldn’t remember ever seeing a doctor before. She had always been healthy as a child, so perhaps there was never a need. She telephoned her mother who couldn’t remember the name of the family doctor. The connection wasn’t very good. She thought about it for a moment, and then tried to change the subject.

“Are you not feeling well, Chi-chan?”

“I’m fine, mom. I just think I should have a checkup every once in a while. Don’t you?”

“Of course you should, sweetheart. But is this really the time?”

“Well, I’ll need to have a physical if I decide to go to the Academy.”

Ch. 2, Girl Punches Out (Sen No Sen)

Chapter 2

Coming Home

“What’s the source?”

“The Aussie’s man in the Sixth Bureau. This is eyes only, understood?”

Don’t worry. I’ve got nothing in the works. Has Burzynski seen it?”

“No, and let’s keep it that way for as long as possible. If their contact gets burned it’ll come right back to us.”

“And Meacham?”

“He hasn’t seen it yet, but he will soon. We can’t keep it buried indefinitely.”

“Let me know when he finds it.” The line went dead.

Ch. 1 Girl Punches Out (Sen No Sen)

Chapter 1

Sparring

   

Billy Codrow peered over his gloves at Marty Gibson. He waited for the feint. He thought it would  come from his right hand. Marty’s left foot moved. Billy was all nervous energy. A front kick! He stepped back and blocked the kick across Marty’s body. He moved to follow through with a sweep of the right leg, but the kick was the feint. Marty used the energy of the block to start a spin. As he came around he swung the back of his fist into Billy’s right ear. The force of the blow crumpled him.

“What the hell was that,” Danny Rincon yelled in protest.

“What’s your problem, Marty,” Billy moaned from the floor.

“I want the next match,” Danny said in a vengeful tone. He was a bit bigger than Billy, stronger too. But Marty was much bigger than either of them. They were all on the football team, but he was on the defensive line and they were only backs.

Sensei stepped in and growled. “Sit down.”

Emily was watching from the side through the whole match. Marty and his buddy, Jeff Schenk, joined the dojo last week. It was a special promotion: first two weeks free. They seemed wrong, somehow insincere. They already had some skills, especially Marty. But they had roughed up everyone they were paired with, apologizing each time for their seeming lack of control. It was getting to be quite annoying. The monthly sparring party was supposed to be rather more convivial. But for Danny this was the last straw.

Girl Fights Back (Go No Sen), ch. 6... Check it out!

Chapter 6: If you can’t stand the heat...

  

When Emily came to the edge of the forest she had already seen the fire in the woodshed. She had only suspected that something was wrong from Promontory Rock, but now she could see that nothing at all was right at her home. She had seen Yuki drive off with Mr. Cardano, and then her father set fire to the main house. She noticed that the security guards were nowhere to be seen. But she had also spotted suspicious activity in the hedges to her left. There were several men moving as quietly as they could manage through some rather dense and noisy underbrush. She circled around to her right, always remaining concealed within the verge of the forest.

She made her way to the point in the north lawn where the woods came the closest to the estate buildings. She was about fifty yards from the corner of the garage. She had a very clear view of her father, crouching against the corner of the building, peering over a low shrub toward the hedges. “Thank God! He sees them too!” she thought with a palpable feeling of relief.

Just then, she saw him scatter some tools with a clatter and burst from behind the shrub towards the main house. They saw him too! He was running as fast as she had ever seen him go. He only had to cover twenty yards to get to the cover of the house. She hadn’t heard the noise of any gunfire, but she could definitely hear the sound of bullets ricocheting around her father as he turned the corner of the front portico. And then she noticed that the whole house seemed to be on fire! She desperately wanted to run to her father, to see if he was hit, to warn him about the fire, to wrap herself in his arms. But she knew that she should hold back, wait just a moment, see what those men were up to. They didn’t know she was there yet. She might need that advantage.

Girl Fights Back (Go No Sen), ch. 5

Chapter 5: Getting out the Door

  

Cardano knew he had to hurry. The people who were on the way would be in an ugly frame of mind by the time they arrived. He needed to spirit everyone away before then, even the security guards. They were just contract employees, but he couldn’t leave them behind to be killed. He had already sent his wife and son away. He arranged their disappearance as soon as he heard about the attack at the concert. They had been living in a small house on the island of Naxos in the Aegean Sea for the last few weeks. But he had worked very hard to make it seem that they were in New Zealand. Every scrap of paper or digital information anywhere in the Border Control systems of several countries implied this, though he had been careful to make it appear that he wanted the authorities to think they were really in Valparaiso. He had also stationed a female operative in an apartment in Auckland with a small boy “borrowed” from a local orphanage. She was under instructions to flee to Adelaide at the first sign of trouble, deposit the boy in a safe house there, and leave a trail that would dead end in Hong Kong.

It was a clever sleight of hand that might distract his enemies for a little while. They would lose interest in his family before long. But they would hound him and George as long as they lived. The security guards would not be worth pursuing. They knew nothing. As long as they were not on site when the tactical teams arrived they would be safe enough. He gave them all cash bonuses, put them on a chartered bus for Las Vegas, and hoped their discretion would protect them.

George was a different story. He knew way too much. He knew as much as Cardano himself. There was no place he could hide him for long. He had already successfully hidden him for almost sixteen years as it was. Of course, Meacham knew he would keep George nearby. But as long as he thought the Predator program was worthless, he had no interest in either of them. They had all been safe as long as Meacham believed that. It was clear that he no longer believed it, for whatever reason. Cardano assumed that he had received intelligence about a Chinese program.

He was worried that George had not returned yet. He couldn’t leave before then, and Yuki absolutely refused to leave without him. After all these years, he had never quite fathomed the nature of their relationship. Were they secretly married? Just lovers? Friends? They seemed to have some sort of spiritual bond. Protecting Yuki was the main purpose of this evacuation. So it was deeply frustrating that he did not understand her motivations at this precise moment.

Girl Fights Back (Go No Sen), ch. 4... here at last. Enjoy!

Chapter 4: Back in the Woods

  

By the time Emily got home from school Friday afternoon she had already planned out her weekend. She collected her gear: a change of clothes, a sleeping roll, a bottle, her hunting knife and a few utensils. Also a scope she had borrowed earlier from one of the guard posts. It must have belonged to a rifle at one time. This might come in handy. The weather was getting cooler, so she put on a jacket and headed out the back to the woods. Her father would be back Saturday or Sunday, and she wanted to have plenty of time to get dug in.

Naturally she headed straight for Promontory Rock. Well, not exactly straight. She took the most direct route she could imagine, while at the same time leaving no clues behind her, but as many false trails as she could think of. If it were possible to trace her steps from above, as a bird might see them, that is, if they were visible at all, they might seem to sketch out some sort of rune, or an arabesque. Was the pattern merely ornamental, or did it have some deep meaning? Or was it like a mehndi, with a ritual meaning as part of a wedding, or some sort of seasonal festival. She reveled in the path she was creating and concealing at the same time, using it to misdirect the gaze of her pursuer even as she set her heart on the promontory. Her father would not expect her to go there now that she knew he knew.

The rock projected from a cliff at least two hundred feet above the ravine below. A stream meandered among the maples and elms at the bottom. The trees gave way to smaller oaks and mountain mahogany further up until it finally thinned out to grass and a few shrubs around the rock itself. One large clump of shrubs several yards away from the precipice was dense enough to hide a small hollow within. There was just enough foliage to conceal her without the need for a lean-to or any other sort of covering. She could see out in three directions without much difficulty. The fourth direction was covered by a large rock and some thick brambles. No silent approach from there.

Girl Fights Back (Go No Sen), ch. 3... Here it is, at last!

Chapter 3: Software

  

“Mike, you’re gonna have to turn ‘em over to us. You know that, don’t you?” the voice on the other end of the phone said.

Michael Cardano reflected on the quality of the tone of that voice. Several million lines of code and a few hundred miles of fiber optic cable lay between him and the man on the other end. The code was written to ensure the security of the connection, dissolving the vocal noises made at either end of the connection into miniscule bits, whirling them into a billion randomized patterns and then, at the last moment, reconstituting them into a facsimile of the original vocal intonations. Most of the code was actually tasked with recreating as accurately as possible the sound of the original voice. The voice from the phone sounded like the man Michael knew him to be. He could hear the tonal indicators of his emotional veracity. The sound was true to the voice. He hoped his own voice would sound as true at the other end of the line. He felt the need to be able to control the shading of his voice, to shape the way he was perceived, and he didn’t want the nuance he aimed to create to get lost in the code.

“You gotta be kidding,” he snorted.

“Nope.”

“You realize this is just more of Meacham’s bullshit, don’t you?” he needled.

Silence.

“He’s gonna flog this turkey all over the hill, and we both know it’s bullshit. That’s not how real soldiers work.”

Girl Fights Back (Go No Sen), ch. 2... Enjoy!

Chapter 2: Camping

That day, her father picked her up from the dojo in the family car. That was their little joke. It was a black limousine, not huge or stretched out. But it was obviously solid. It belonged to the family her father worked for. He was their driver, though it was not clear exactly where his duties ended, or what he might be asked to do, or when.

He was not a physically imposing man. He was only a couple of inches taller than her and maybe thirty pounds heavier. He was wiry and strong, but deceptively so. He did not train extensively, just a few push-ups, a few sit-ups, a few pull-ups, a few laps around the estate where they lived. But she sensed that, like Sensei, he was much stronger than he had any right to be, than anyone might suspect. Of course, he hardly ate at all, seemed not even to like food. A few vegetables, maybe some beans, some fruit, a bowl of rice. That was his diet. They ate dinner together most nights. She wasn’t sure he ate any other meals. He was in his early forties, though most people on first meeting him would probably assume that he was ten years younger than that.

Emily knew that he remained young because he was essentially young at heart. She saw his playful side, she basked in his love. But to everyone else he seemed to be made of stone. A cool customer. He hardly spoke, never laughed. Just listened with an immovable expression on his face. When his employer, Mr. Cardano, asked him to do something, he did it, quickly, efficiently, without comment. Cardano had come to rely on his impassivity. It was as secure as the Catholic confessional. Sometimes, he was gone from the estate for a few days, never more than a week. He never told her what he did on these trips. She didn’t ask anymore. For the most part, however, he drove the family car.

Girl Fights Back (Go No Sen), ch. 1... as promised!

Here it is. Enjoy! Check back soon for the next installment.

Chapter 1

Kung Fu

It’s like a kid swinging a bat in his first little league baseball game. He has no idea what to expect, when to begin his swing, when to commit to it completely, not to mention where to swing the bat. Sure, he’s probably already practiced swinging at balls with his dad out on the local ball field or at a batting cage. He knows how to hold the bat--dominant hand on top, knuckles of both hands lined up, bat off his shoulder--maybe even how to step slightly into his swing, shift his weight to his back foot, swivel his hips and then his shoulders.

But facing the opposing pitcher in a real, live game; now that’s something completely different. That kid on the mound is not trying to teach him how to hit the ball. He’s throwing as hard as he can, trying to get him out. His throwing motion is different from his dad’s. It’s really hard to see the ball until it’s almost too late. His eyes don’t focus on the right things; they don’t look in the right directions. He doesn’t know what to look for. He closes his eyes and swings. Here’s what it sounds like in sequence: thud... swish. Thud (the ball hits the catcher’s mitt), then swish (the bat cuts the empty air). Later, after a lot more experience in game conditions, he learns how to train his eyes to look and his mind to attend to the right things.

That’s how sparring always seemed to her. It was just a matter of seeing, of knowing where to look and what to look for. She saw the telltale signs of her opponent’s intentions almost as soon as he had formed them, certainly as soon as he was committed to them. This was her third martial art. First was aikido, a beautiful, meditative discipline. All round, soft movements, deflecting the opponent, but also absorbing him, enfolding him in the subtle folds of her own movements, a caress, a rebuff. It was almost a kindness. Soothing the opponent, allowing him to expend his energy fruitlessly, turning him around, twisting him in an unexpected way. Perhaps he sees that his effort is going awry even as it’s happening to him, but there’s nothing he can do about it. The surprise she saw written across his face was a supreme satisfaction, better than victory and his admission of defeat. Tap.