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“Hey, thanks for the help, BlackRose,” said Stolls, bowing his head to the slender Heavy Blade. “Really, you guys did good back there. We just might catch ‘em napping if this works.”
She smiled. “You’d better let me know if you find anything,” she mock-ordered, and then in a concerned tone added, “you’ll find Aura… right?”
“That’s the plan. Someone in the group was running that network, I’d bet my last dollar on it. And don’t worry, I’ll keep you guys up to speed.”
“All right. Good luck, Mr. Stollis!” Turning to Kite, she added, “I’ll see you later, Kite!”
Stolls was about to speak, but was completely caught off-guard when the boy’s thorny companion gave Kite a quick, but firm hug. His arms enveloped her as well, and when they parted both were smiling.
“You too,” he replied. “Take care!”
BlackRose gated out, leaving only the cluttered broadway of Mac Anu behind her. Kite turned to face a proud grin from Stolls, and a raised eyebrow from both BT and TamonAdillo.
“Bravo, Hiro man,” said Stolls, clapping his gloved hands together. “Bra-vo.” He stepped closer, patting the Twin Blade on the shoulder. “I knew you had it in you.”
“They just hugged,” said Tamon. “What’s the big deal?”
“Now, now, this is big,” replied Stolls, still facing a blushing Kite. “So what’s her name?”
“Um… w-well,” he mumbled, fidgeting, avoiding Stolls’ eyes.
BT interrupted, stepping partially between the two players. “Come on, you’re embarrassing him,” she chided. Almost amused, she added, “And besides, don’t you have a job to do?”
“Hey, just ‘cause we’re trying to find out what happened to the most advanced AI ever and confronting soul-destroying evil,” he smiled, “doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun in the process.”
Tamon eyed him suspiciously. “That sounds rehearsed.”
“Thought it up during the meeting,” Stolls said out the side of his mouth. “Sue me.”
Chuckling, BT shook her head. “Still, I think you should get to it, detective.” She gave him a stern look. “Without Aura… who knows what could happen to The World in her absence? We don’t even know where she’s gone, or if she even is…”
“I know, I know,” Stolls interrupted, all humor lost from his face. He took a deep breath, his eyes suddenly focused and severe. “Just trying to stay positive. I got a real bad feeling about this. Waiting on Junichiro and Sato to come up with an address.”
“What are you going to do?” Kite asked.
The male Wavemaster closed his eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath through his nose. He then opened his eyes and, as seriously as he could muster, said “Improvise.”
Tamon turned away, rubbing his forehead. “Oh, god,” he muttered, then snickered almost inaudibly.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Stolls replied sarcastically.
“Sorry, sorry,” said Tamon, waving a hand towards Stolls. “But you don’t exactly have a good track record with that.”
BT threw a look at the Long Arm. “I beg to differ,” she said matter-of-factly, taking a few steps toward Stolls. There was a tiny smile on her face, enigmatic yet genuine. “I think he'll do just fine.”
Stolls grinned again, somewhat sheepishly. “See, now THAT’s a vote of confidence. That’ll make all the difference in the world. Case closed right there.” He glanced at Tamon. “No thanks to YOUR negative ass, Max.”
“Yeah, yeah…” muttered Tamon, hiding a grin of his own.
“All right, I’m gone. Wish me luck!”
Stolls began to log out, but stopped when he heard Kite speak.
“Akira,” said the teal-haired warrior with a small, growing smile. “Her name’s Akira.”
The detective had to fight to keep another grin off his face. Instead he merely pointed at the Twin Blade with his index finger, winking as he signaled the logoff command and The World went black.
-
“Are you sure this is the right place?”
Squinting through the windshield, Dean shielded his eyes from the sun, staring from one parking lot to another. The lot held a seemingly innocuous little internet café – he recalled that as BlackRose’s suggestion. Tokuoka and Ichiro had tracked down the source of the IP address, through methods that the latter described as simply ‘making a few calls.’ The directions to the street address dead-ended near a strip mall in southern Tokyo, leaving him with over two dozen potential businesses to check.
He might have had to, were it not for the Range Rover parked in front of the café, between two other cars. Its color was black, the license plate different than the one he remembered, but the passenger - a blonde man in a trenchcoat, speaking to somebody on a cell phone - was still conspicuous to the detective.
Pointing to the man, Dean spoke to Junichiro, who sat next to him. “Right there. I think that's one of the guys who was with Felix outside the restaurant. They were driving a Range Rover, too; it was silver, but otherwise it looks just like that one.”
The former Cyber Connect employee looked at him. “Well, we followed the directions… but there’s no telling what the situation is. How could they use an internet café to pull off something like this?”
Dean reached into the backseat, fishing blindly through his open duffel bag. He produced his camera, taking it out of its leather case and turning it on. “Well,” he said, pointing the lens at blonde passenger, “that’s what we’re here to find out.”
As Dean took a picture, Junichiro replied, “You have to admit, there’s something really wrong with all this. First they needed a hacker to get to Aura, and now they don't.” He thought for a moment, then added, “Of course, we didn’t see them get another hacker, that doesn’t mean they didn’t already have one…”
“And we don’t know that they actually have Aura,” Dean said, setting down the camera. “Like I said, that’s why we’re here.”
The trenchcoat goon shut off his phone and hopped out of the Range Rover, closing the door and entering the cafe.
“I don't see anybody else in the car," said Dean. "It looks like they're all inside.” He unbuckled his seat belt and reached into the duffel bag again.
Junichiro looked puzzled. “What are you doing?”
Dean retrieved a roll of duct tape and opened the car door. “Be back in a sec. Leave the engine running.”
He casually stepped out of the car, closing the door and making his way across the lot. (Is he crazy?!) thought Tokuoka as the detective nonchalantly approached the black vehicle. He noticed Dean was being cautious in his step, careful to keep the Range Rover between him and the café window.
Dean cautiously leaned around the side of the car, taking pictures of the inside of the cafe. After three shots, he then tore off a piece of tape and reached under the front fender, sticking the tape to the underside.
It dawned on Junichiro as he placed another strip beneath the front of the car. (He's marking it.)
Dean calmly yet quickly made his way back over to the car, hopping into the driver’s seat. His face was a tad flushed as let out a sigh of relief, putting away the tape. “All right,” he said after a second’s pause. “Let’s hope it sticks this time. I’ll move the car a little more out of sight.”
“Wait, what do you mean ‘this time?’ You’ve tried this before?”
Dean looked sheepish, even as he shifted into reverse. “Uh… maybe?”
“Maybe?” Junichiro pressed. “What does that mean?”
“Okay, fine,” Dean grumbled, “I saw it in a movie once.” He pulled out of the parking space, looking over his shoulder to ensure it was clear. “Guy was trying to track a killer’s car, and they kept changing coats of paint and license numbers. He marked it with tape so he could identify it later.”
As the car turned, Junichiro asked “Did it work?”
Reluctantly, Dean said, “No… no, in fact, it didn’t. Was still a good idea. Just have to make sure...” he broke off as he stopped backing out, looking forward again.
“They don't notice it,” Junichiro finished.
“Bingo… oh, shit! Damn, they’re leaving already; better park again, else they’ll see us.”
Dean finagled the car back into the spot as two men left the cafe and got into the black vehicle. Shifting to park, Dean snagged the camera and zoomed in as far as it would allow, taking another picture. He recognized the other man immediately. “Well, if it isn’t the swordsman.”
“What did you say?”
The vehicle pulled away, giving Dean a chance to capture the license plate as it turned right out of the lot. “Some joker named Sato’s with Felix and his men. Carries around a katana.” He turned around, and started pulling other items out of the bag – including his tape recorder. “Looks like another hired helper, but he’s got some beef with me, that’s all I know.”
“Oh, right, you mentioned him earlier,” Junichiro nodded. “So, what now?”
“We go and have a look around,” said Dean, killing the engine and opening the door.
Together, they stepped out. As Dean locked the doors behind them, Junichiro asked, “What if one of them is still inside?”
“Then I’ve got just the thing.” He walked around the back of his car, keys jingled as he unlocked the trunk. “It’s a very high-tech, all-purpose detective’s tool. Top-of-the-line. Very discreet and all.”
Junichiro gave him a dubious stare. “That’s a tire iron.”
“You don't say.”
-
DING
“Sorry, the network's down,” said the bored-looking clerk from behind the desk, his face buried in a novel as he reclined in a chair. “We’re closed for now.”
“I just wanted to ask you a few questions.” The accent and language were Japanese.
The clerk looked up, through the glare of fluorescent lights across three long two-sided rows of computers, all of which were on but none in use. Across the room stood two men – one American, one Japanese; the former dressed mostly in black, a button-down shirt and matching jeans; the latter in more visible attire, a pair of khakis and a short-sleeved blue dress shirt, beneath a lightweight red coat.
Frowning, the clerk dismissed both men with a wave, turning back to his book. “I said we’re closed, buddy,” he repeated in English.
“I’m looking for Monroe,” said the American. “Is he here?”
“Who wants to know?”
The two men got close enough to examine the clerk – a lanky young Japanese man with shoulder-length hair, clad in a gray work shirt and jeans; the shirt identified him as “Yoshiro,” and bore the name of the café as well.
“I’d like to ask him what he wanted with Aura.”
Yoshiro’s blood froze in his veins. He closed his book and looked up at the men; his eyes widened in shock as he got a closer look at the American, and his expression did not go unnoticed.
Dean smiled faintly. “Or maybe I should ask you instead.”
“You…!” Yoshiro grunted in surprise, one hand already reaching for the phone.
Dean released the head of the iron, which he’d been palming, the shaft concealed in his sleeve; before Yoshi’s fingers could get anywhere near the receiver, Dean brought the tool down hard on his arm. The clerk cried out in pain and fell backwards, the chair tipping over and spilling him onto the floor.
“Bad move, my friend,” said Dean, rounding the counter. “June, lock the door, would ya?”
Footsteps retreated to the front of the store as Junichiro complied. Yoshiro stared at Dean, clearly frightened and nursing his arm.
“I’m not gonna screw around with you.” Dean took a step closer. “Just tell me what you did with Aura, and how it involves both Asara and Cyber Connect.”
“G-go to hell!” cried Yoshi, scrambling away from the detective. He reached under the counter and pulled out a baseball bat, which he waved threateningly towards Dean as he got back on his feet. “Keep away from me.”
“You just keep making bad moves.” Dean shook his head. “Kid, right now I’m mostly indifferent towards you, your helping commit a felony notwithstanding." He narrowed his eyes menacingly. "You take a swing at me, you better hope it hits because you’ll only get one,” he started to growl, “and then I’ll make sure it’s a DAMN long time before you touch a keyboard again, because I will break every last one of your fingers.”
The tip of the bat was shaking, Yoshiro’s eyes were wide and twitching. He nearly jumped out of his shoes when Dean shouted, “Drop the goddamn bat!”
That did it. Yoshiro cringed and released the bat, which clattered noisily to the black-and-white patterned tile floor. “Okay, okay!” he gasped, backing off with his hands raised in surrender. “Don’t hurt me! Th-they, they paid me! They needed a network for something, something to do with ‘The World’.” Sweating profusely, he added, “A bunch of guys came in, mean-looking guys, I don’t know 'em.”
“Who was here a couple hours ago?” asked Dean.
“Uh… it was just some kids,” he said shakily. “I don’t know what the deal was, but they had some kids sign up… said it was…”
Junichiro called from across the room, having listened to every word. “Test your character’s skills; Cyber Connect looking for beta testers for newly-developed PC bot programs. Ask Yoshiro Monroe for details.” Glancing over at Dean, he pointed to a bulletin board on the west wall. “He’s right, looks like they were just using players. They told 'em they were fighting bots.”
Dean nodded to him. “Figures.” Turning back to Yoshiro, he lowered the iron. “So what’s your role in all this, kid? You the hacker?”
“No!” he protested. “Well… no, not exactly. It’s not what you think. Like I said, they just needed a network, they paid… okay, okay, so I did a little wetwork for them.”
“What kind of wetwork?”
Yoshiro looked away shamefully. “Bypassed some firewalls, uploaded some custom character specs… uh, I wrote a hijacker worm for software, and changed some local field settings.” He looked back up. “I didn’t think it’d hurt anyone, I didn’t even know what they wanted. They just came in, said they knew…” he trailed off.
“Knew what?” Dean pressed.
Giving a heavy sigh, Yoshiro continued. “They knew I’d been busted for felony hacking before. My boss doesn’t know, they never would’ve hired me otherwise. They just paid me to keep quiet, and to keep an eye out for… uh, for you, but I didn’t… I mean,” he fumbled, “I don’t even know who you are, or what’s going on.”
Junichiro joined the conversation, physically and vocally. “You said you wrote a hijacker worm? That’s awfully sophisticated… how did you manage it?”
“Ah, it wasn’t just me,” he answered. “They even gave me some software. That old guy, Sato, he said he used to work for Cyber Connect. He got the basic coding, all I had to do was modify it.”
“What was the software?” Junichiro asked.
“Uh… something called ‘Delphi.’ I’d never heard of it before.”
Dean did his best to hide his reaction, which was something of shock and horror. “You were about to call a number,” said Dean. “What was it?”
“The Park Hotel, in Shiodome. Sato said he was going to meet with some people, and he’d be there for the next couple hours.”
Yoshiro started as Dean reached into his shirt pocket, and heard a ‘click’ as a stop button was pressed on a concealed recorder. “Beautiful,” he said with a smile. “Can I use your phone?”
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