Ch 70

V 1.0

The hype is real…

Chiba City, Chiba Prefecture
Metro Tokyo, Japan
early March, Friday late afternoon

Keitaro and Katsuo were crouched beside a vehicle, trying their hardest to stay below the line of fire. It would have been more than a little difficult if it had been a Japanese built passenger sedan but this was a mid-sized delivery truck. They had positioned themselves so the engine block and front tires acted as additional cover, since car glass and body panels were sadly deficient as bullet resistant barriers, especially to assault weapons fire. The two men were also pressed up against each other so closely it would have been amusing at how awkward it looked if they had been face to face instead of back to back. Of course that was nothing compared to the poor kobun off to their side; the young gang soldier was doing his level best to curl up behind the truck tire he was hiding behind as cover.

"I blame you for this Katsuo-kun. You had to jinx us this morning." Keitaro's voice was not loud; in fact it could be described as conversational, if it had not been for the fact that he had to raise it to be heard above the thumps of the gunshots and the cracks of the supersonic bullets passing above them.

"How was I supposed to know something like this was going to happen?!" Katsuo sounded less calm than his compatriot, but that was to be expected. It was not like there were many firefights taking place in Japan. The closest thing to gunfire the young oyabun had come close to was when he had tested his new TV sound system at home by putting on a DVD of Saving Private Ryan and turning the volume to 10; it had resulted in a cracked window or two and the Tokyo Police Department almost scrambling Special Unit thinking a mob hit was going down.

"Oh I don't know, I would have thought you had known better than to attract the kami's attention like that." Keitaro was tempted to take a quick look around from behind his cover but on second though decided against it. Even though the number of gunshots had decreased substantially, he had no desire to get hit by a stray round.

Rather than going to Katsuo's office that morning, Keitaro had arranged to meet him at a coffee shop. It had sounded like a good idea at first, since the pair would be driving around the various prefectures that day and it would reduce the amount of traffic they would have been delayed by.

But the scene Katsuo had come across had been strange by any standard. The young yakuza scion has gotten used to the fearful looks that civilians would give him and his men, and the glares that low-level police officers would direct at them. Not that they would do anything about them; the only law enforcement officials that would directly confront anyone above kobun rank were the dedicated organized crime task force officers, since the various families usually had enough pull with the police upper ranks and local politicians to get out of most trouble and make officers' life miserable.

Instead Katsuo had seen that Keitaro was sitting a table with a steaming cup of tea off to one side. A deck of cards spread out in front of him in a game of Concentration, where he would try and remember where specific cards were and try to pick pairs out with the least amount of turns. The young man was dressed in a dark suit and tie with a white shirt, a black dress coat and grey knit scarf carefully folded on top of the chair opposite him. Keitaro's head was tilted forward as he carefully turned over and put back various cards in turn, his eyes concealed by Ray Ban Wayfarer sunglasses he had taken to wearing. Which was why he had been apparently unaware that there was a circle of unoccupied tables surrounding him, with the other tables occupied by apprehensive customers who were eyeing him as unobtrusively as possible. There was even a beat cop standing in a corner trying to glower at Keitaro but failing miserably.

Once Katsuo and his accompanying kobun stepped up to the table and announced themselves with a respectful 'Akira-sama' and a medium bow, Keitaro glanced up at them and nodded in response but otherwise staying silent. Katsuo was not offended by the lack of reply; by addressing him by his alias and bowing, he was showing in public that the other man was his senior in rank, which probably made all their observers even more nervous since Katsuo's status in his family business was a poorly concealed secret.

Deftly collecting the cards spread in front of him (in numerical order to the pair's surprise, having apparently memorized their locations previously), Keitaro tucked the deck into his pants pocket. The kobun smartly picked up the folded coat and held it out so that he could slip into it. Keitaro then took the long scarf and wrapped it around his own neck, leaving it just below chin height.

Reaching into his other pants pocket, Keitaro pulled out a money clip and peeled off four 5000 yen notes, dropping them on the table. Turning his head to glance at the starry-eyed waitress behind the counter and the tense older man in an apron behind her, presumably her father, the elegantly dressed young man gave a slight head bow. "A round for everyone present and the remainder for yourselves." The older man looked like he was going to protest, but a swift but gentle elbow to the gut from his daughter made him close his mouth instead. Keitaro then turned his head to look at the police officer in the corner but said nothing, his gaze even behind sunglasses enough to make the uniformed man pale slightly. Giving the slightest of head nods, Keitaro then turned to and walked out into the street, Katsuo and the kobun following behind him to the gleaming black Mercedes Benz sedan parked at the curb, the door already held open by the driver. The younger man gracefully slipped into the car with the other two men quickly getting in as well. The doors had barely clunk shut when the car pulled away from the curb into traffic.

"So where are we off to, kyodai?" Katsuo grinned as he glanced over at Keitaro, who barely cracked a smile in response. Kyodai translated into big brother and was used by yakuza to respectfully refer to more senior non-oyabun members.

"The first family on the list." Keitaro handed over a piece of note paper with coded ideograms handwritten on it. Even the names of the families they were dealing with were considered sensitive since it could result in dishonor.

"This is the last group?" Katsuo asked, getting a nod in return. The previous day they has gone and visited three different families, to both let them know that the Roju no Kage knew about the various groups applying pressure against them, and would help protect against it… and to let them know the Roju would not look kindly on violations of the code of secrecy regarding the use of chi and ki publicly. Keitaro had left each family a card with his Akira alias and a phone number he could be reached at should they continue to have issues. Each family looked relieved at the offer; part of the problem had been that they had been struggling alone against the pressure and unfortunately the Roju was not obvious about what it did unless things started going wrong.

The quartet had gone through the first two families fairly quickly. Stopping for a quick lunch of ramen (and scaring the hell out of passerbys at the sight of four presumed yakuza in suits sitting at a counter slurping up noodles) they had gotten back in the car and driven toward their next destination. Traffic had delayed them to the point where Keitaro had the car stop two blocks away and got out along with Katsuo and one of the kobun; it was a five minute walk compared to spending twenty minutes in the car plus finding parking. The kobun in the car was instructed to keep driving around but to stay close to their location, coming to pick them up once Katsuo called on his mobile.

The trio now moved down the sidewalk, the crowds of pedestrians parting before them almost unconsciously. It was not that they were deliberately being intimidating, but the sight of three men dressed in tailored business suits with slicked back hair and dark glasses made their affiliations apparent. The fact that Keitaro was walking with Katsuo behind him and slightly to his left and the kobun behind him and to the right, essentially forming a zig-zag line that made it easier to move through the crowds.

The trio had been but two storefronts away from their destination when there was a screech of tires from the road. His head snapping to the side, Keitaro saw that two cheap sedans had halted in the wide boulevard and men in leather jackets were scrambling out of the vehicles, folding stock AK-47s and pistols in hand. Without saying a word the young man spun and grabbed his friend and the kobun by the shoulders and yanked them down to the ground, just as gunfire began to roar over their heads.

After scrambling behind the (barely adequate) cover of the medium truck, the trio had been surprised to hear return gunfire coming from the opposite direction on their exposed side. Katsuo and the kobun had been ready to scramble to different cover when Keitaro held them in place; he could tell that the second source of fire was not coming toward them but in fact concentrated on the first source, which was almost the definition for 'spray and pray'. Automatic fire with tracer rounds was going every which way beside the narrow storefront the gangsters were targeting, which by this time had all its windows blown out.

"How much longer do you think this will go on?" Katsuo asked. It had barely been one or two minutes but it had felt much longer.

"Not much. This is strictly amateur hour, those shooters have pretty much used up all their ammo," Keitaro replied. The shooters with the AKs were down to single shots by this point, including the occasional pistol shot. The opposing side was firing what sounded to be bolt-action rifles and were slower but much more accurate. Which resulted in the gangsters' current dilemma; the return fire had struck their engines and tires, disabling their vehicles and trapping them in place. Any attempt to move or run from their cover would see them driven back by opposing fire. "How long will it take Special Unit to respond?" asked Keitaro in turn, referring to the Japanese police version of SWAT.

"Realistically about half an hour," Katsuo replied. "Traffic cops and riot forces will barricade the streets for a two block radius, members of the anti-firearms squad will reinforce them to prevent a break-out." Traffic had stopped in the street, with abandoned cars scattered throughout. "Special Unit needs to assemble at the prefecture headquarters to grab their heavy gear and then roll-up on us in armored vehicles." The young oyabun then snorted. "Then Special Investigations will grab everyone and interview them. We're going to catch hell for this, even if we're not involved in the shootout the fact that we're Yakuza means they aren't going to be nice about it. In fact we should call our families and lawyers right now before they take us into custody, the cops are probably going to hold us incommunicado for a few days otherwise."

"Yes, I have some experience with that." Keitaro ignored the way Katsuo blinked questioningly as he turned and peered around the corner of the truck. All he could see was the various abandoned vehicles and a thickening band of smoke. But now that the sounds of gunfire had gone down, he was able to hear a thin whistling shriek and a sharp chemical smell that after a moment he was able to identify. "Katsuo, get ready to grab your man and run, I'm smelling and hearing a propane leak."

"Kuso, really?" Katsuo looked at him wide-eyed behind his dark glasses as Keitaro took another quick glance. Now that he knew what to look for, the young man found the source; a heavy open bed truck twenty meters away in the middle of the street with the windows shot up and the door hanging open, the driver apparently having run away. The whistling sound was coming from the bed of the truck, where there was a large compressed natural gas tank against the cab that was apparently the vehicle's fuel source. What caused Keitaro's heart to sink was that there was black smoke coming from under the truck, indicating the vehicle was on fire. As he watched there was a loud pop and the shrieking sound increased, even as a large plume of fire formed at the tank.

"The safety valve just popped, that plume is going to overheat the tank and cook it off, get ready to go!" Keitaro shouted. The three men got up on their feet in a crouched position and were about to run when they heard something that caused them to freeze in place.

"Mama! Mama!"

Katsuo Kobayashi, in spite of being fairly senior in his group's hierarchy, did not have any real combat experience. A lot of this had to do with the fact that he had taken the 'easier' route in joining his yakuza family by the fact that his father was the oyabun rather than being recruited from a bosozoku street gang, which at the minimum had experience fighting other gangs. While he had joined as a lowly shatei (little brother) at age 16, he had been given a crash course on life in the shadow world. He had been promoted to kyodai (big brother) by age 18 and given charge of his own group of shatei to go and make money for the family. He had concentrated on the non-violent side of things such as credit card fraud, counterfeit consumer goods and later on land speculation and wound up making quite a bit.

But the one thing that had not been different between him and any other soldier picked from the streets was the kendo and bare hand sparing sessions that everyone took part in. It did not matter if one was a white belt or a dan ranking, a snot-nosed punk or the oyabun's son, everyone fought. It did not matter if the living tar was being beaten from you, you fought and fought and fought until the older brother acting as the fight judge called a halt. And as his father's son, he had fought and been beaten by damn near every man in his family's group until he finally worked himself up to a second dan ranking and been able to, if not defeat his opponents at least hold them off. One reason for this was to earn everyone's respect, but more importantly it was to get the fighters to learn how to think and operate under combat stress. But facing off against the biggest most experienced street enforcer in his family did not scare as much as Keitaro Urashima did right now.

Upon hearing the screams the trio's heads all turned to look at the source; a car that was five meters away from the burning truck. The vehicle had rear-ended another car and stopped in place. The front windshield had taken several bullet strikes making it opaque, but the side windows facing them were still intact. One of them was partially wound down, which is why they were able to hear the cries, which sounded like a young child.

Katsuo had barely gotten his eyes fixed on the open window when three things happened in rapid sequence. First there was an immense blast of heat, as thought someone had thrown open the door to a furnace, causing the paint on the truck next to them to blister and start to smoke. Katsuo had involuntarily thrown himself back landing on his butt when the second thing happened; the temperature around them dropped precipitously, going from the high 30s to below zero centigrade in less than five seconds, causing the sheet metal fender next to them to shriek and buckle. The third thing was what frightened the young yakuza the most; Keitaro's face, even under his dark shades, had gotten horrifyingly blank as he stared in the direction of the screaming.

"Keitaro! Keitaro!" Katsuo's thoughts were racing as he realized what was about to happen. "They are in the line of fire!" The stricken car was in between the gang shooters' vehicle and the shot-up store front, tracer rounds still flickering around it. "We are in public, YOU CAN'T BLOW COVER!" Katsuo shouted. There would be hell to pay with the Kage no Roju if the person who was supposed to protect the secrets of chi and ki did something spectacular out in the open.

His icy gaze flickering toward him, Katsuo almost felt his heart stop when he felt the other man's eyes on him before he looked back at the car. Moving deliberately, Keitaro pulled his grey scarf up from around his neck to where the upper edge was just above the tip of his nose before taking one of the loose ends and pulled on it, tightening the material before tossing the end over his shoulder; combined with the dark Wayfarer shades he was wearing, his face was now almost completely concealed. Keitaro then with a deliberate pace started walking toward the shot-up car.

"Kuso!" Watching as his companion literally walked into the fire, Katsuo frantically searched his coat pockets before he found what he was looking for. Pulling the white surgical mask over his face he turned to look at his kobun who was looking back at him with wide eyes. "Mask up if you have it, call the driver and tell him to get ready for a flying pick up! Look around for an escape route and set it up, go high if you have to!" The kobun was a chi user, which gave him a few more options than most people. Hearing the man reply with a 'hai!' to his orders the young oyabun went racing after his friend.

"What are you doing out here, Katsuo?" Keitaro did not turn to look at him, but he spoke as the other man caught up with him.

"Trying to keep you from doing something really stupid!" Katsuo snarled. "I can't let you do this crazy shit alone, I'd lose enormous face!" The two men were walking at slow speed for some reason, already half across the boulevard and approaching the car. The wind was picking up, causing the ends of Keitaro's scarf to flutter.

"Well then stay right next to me, I can't protect you much otherwise," replied Keitaro. The young mob boss was about to ask how he was going to do that when he saw a green tracer round scream past his head only twenty centimeters away and to Katsuo's shock barely yet visibly arc around him. The next moment found him literally pressing his shoulder against Keitaro's, all while rounds continued flying past them in both directions, the fire behind them concentrating on the gang shooters in front of them who were still shooting wildly.

Even at a slow rate the two men finally made it to the driver side of the car. Through the closed windows they could see an unconscious adult behind the steering wheel and a crying toddler in a child seat in the back passenger side seat. Crouching as much as he could without being obvious about it, Katsuo yanked at the two sets of door handles while Keitaro stood beside him looking unconcerned at the angry bee sounds of bullets zipping past him. "They're both locked! What now!?"

The oyabun barely had time to move back before Keitaro pulled his arm back and launched a palm strike, shattering the driver's side window. Some softer taps cleared the broken glass from the door before he reached in and after some groping around found the proper button and unlocked all the doors. Katsuo immediately opened the rear door and slid into the seat, coming face-to-face with a now wide-eyed toddler.

"Hey there nechan, no need to cry. Oniisan is here to help you." Katsuo gave his best smile before he realized he had the white surgical mask on, which was probably freaking the little girl out. Fumbling for a moment he removed the mask and smiled again, which this time worked. "What's your name, nechan?

"Karen. Where's Mama?" The sniffling child asked. The girl who looked to three to four years old was wearing a pink jacket and green pants, her black hair tied up and back in twin stand-out pig-tails on the top and back of her head.

"Kyodai is looking at her right now," Katsuo assured her before looking toward the front seat. "Bosu, how's it going?"

"Airbag knocked her out," came Keitaro's laconic reply. "There's some small cuts on her face from her broken glasses, but her heart rate and breathing are steady." He reached over and unlatched the seat belt. "We don't have much time left to get them out." Indeed, the shrieking sound of the leaking propane tank outside was getting louder.

Katsuo looked around futilely for the belt release, but had little success in finding it among the various straps holding the child seat in place. "Kuso, this damn thing is more complicated than shibari!"

"Oniisan shouldn't use bad words," the little girl said. Surprised, Katsuo glanced up to see the serious look on the child's face.

"Yeah, probably." Katsuo looked around for a few moments more before speaking again. "Kyodai, you have a knife on you? I think I have to cut these straps loose." Yakuza normally did not carry any type of weapon unless combat was imminent due to the hassle the police would give them.

"Lean back." Following the order, Katsuo and the little girl's eyes widened when Keitaro reached over the seat and flicked his hand a few centimeters from the child seat. With a pop and a hiss his flattened hand appeared blurred before he finally touched the seat and ran the edge of his fingers across it. The nylon belts instantly parted and a deep gouge formed on the hard plastic and fabric.

"Wind blade!" Katsuo whispered in his mind, stunned at the sight. A high level wind elemental chi technique, it was borderline ki since it physically manifested. It was also a feared close combat technique since the 'sharpness' of the 'blade' could be adjusted; at high intensity a presumably empty hand would cut like a katana wielded by a master swordsman.

"Lets go lets go lets go," Keitaro muttered as he drew his arm back and started pulling the unconscious woman from the driver's seat.

"Come on Karen-chan, time to go." Katsuo reached over and pulled the toddler from the child seat and out of the car, joining Keitaro who was on one knee arranging the woman for carry. His long coat had been unbuttoned and pulled around her head and legs as much as possible as protection, flapping in the increasing winds.

"Shatei," Katsuo looked up at the command voice used by the younger man. "Carry the girl straight up and down in front of you, and stay right in front of me as close as you can. Don't run, walk the same pace as before, and don't get ahead of me, understand?" He could feel the other man's eyes boring in on him even through his dark glasses.

"Hai, I understand." Given what Keitaro had apparently done on their walk to the car and inside of it, Katsuo had an inkling on what he was going to do now. He just hoped it would not be put to the test. Reaching over he hooked his mask over his face again and brought the trembling child up against him, ready to pick her up and stand.

Keitaro had the unconscious mother in his arms in the princess carry position. Moving his arms forward slightly, Katsuo saw him perform a few hand signs before pulling his arms back, taking a firm grip on the woman and standing. Katsuo did the same with the little girl, trying not to flinch as a rifle bullet hissed past him from the gang shooters position. Return fire from the storefront immediately drove the gang members down.

"Ready… march." Keitaro stepped up behind Katsuo and they began to walk away from the car and toward the truck they had previously been hiding at the same soul-eating pace, wind and smoke circling around them. Only now they could see the horrified looks on the faces of various police and other uniformed people behind cover who were frantically gesturing for them to hurry. They could also see what looked to be a news cameraman and reporter next to the police filming the action.

"Steady… steady…" Keitaro murmured before switching to another language he did not recognize, softly muttering what sounded like a chant or prayer. It was all Katsuo could do to not break into a run, but his faith in his friend kept him at the same slow pace.

They were halfway across the street when the propane tank on the burning truck fifteen meters behind them finally blew.

Technically speaking a BLEVE (boiling liquid expanding vapor explosion) occurs when a container containing a pressurized liquid above its boiling point ruptures. An interesting fact about liquids was that under pressure it would not convert to gaseous form, so long as the container was strong enough to contain it. But if the physical pressure was too high or the container failed due to high temperatures from a fire, the liquid inside would flash-convert into gaseous form and extremely rapidly expand… to the point where a shockwave would form and blast damage result, depending on the volume of liquid converting to gas.

The liquid did not have to be flammable; water heaters and boilers can rupture when safety devices fail. Water can be heated to over 200 degrees centigrade, twice it's normal boiling point, and still be in liquid form while still contained in a pressurized container at 250 PSI, over 15 times normal atmospheric pressure. However if the vessel fails and the liquid flashes to gas, it would require 1600 times more volume space to reach atmospheric equilibrium.

BLEVEs were classified as one of two types; flammable and non-flammable. Flammable incidents had both the pressure expansion/explosion and the ignition of the gas and/or liquid, which can massively multiple the effect due to secondary explosions, sometimes forming into a fuel-air explosion on par with a tactical nuclear weapon. Non-flammable incidents usually had only the single explosion and shockwave, however liquids with a low freezing point such as liquid nitrogen or hydrogen can result in frostbite or freeze damage or in asphyxiation due to the gas replacing breathable air in a confined area.

The tank ruptured in the opposite direction from where they were traveling and did not immediately result in a secondary ignition and explosion. That was the good news. However the 300 PSI tank was half full when it finally let go, spraying freezing propane liquid and vapor far and wide.

The four of them had reached the halfway point of the street when Katsuo heard a loud metallic creaking and tearing sound above the scream of the escaping propane. He did not have time to think on what that meant when Keitaro shouted 'DOWN!' and the two men immediately dropped to one knee, clutching their precious cargo tight against them as the wind suddenly howled around them in a tight whirlwind. They still staggered and almost were thrown to the ground as the shockwave from the exploding tank smashed into the cyclone of wind surrounding them.

Katsuo clutched the now wailing toddler against him as he felt Keitaro and the woman pressed up against his back. Wide-eyed, he watched as a grayish-white cloud of vapor rapidly rolled over them but was kept away from the four of them by the spinning winds. A moment later everything turned orange-red as the vapor ignited with a thunderous roar… but the vapor around them stayed unburned for some reason. After a moment Katsuo realized why; the speed of the wind around them was keeping the vapor too thin to ignite.

After an unknown number of seconds seeing and hearing the ravening flames fighting against the howling winds to consume them, Katsuo felt a nudge against his back and felt Keitaro stand up. Following suit, the mob boss felt another nudge against him and still wrapped by the roaring whirlwind began to slowly walk through the burning vapor and black smoke, Keitaro and the unconscious woman literally pressed up against his back. Only now that they were so close together Katsuo could hear through the roar of the winds around them that Keitaro was singing in that unknown language.

A few seconds later the four of them emerged from the vapor cloud to see a scene straight from Hell. Liquid propane had sprayed in a ten meter radius from the burning truck and then caught fire. The truck was now a melting wreckage, the car they had rescued the mother and child from was now completely engulfed in flame along with some others and parts of the street had melting asphalt from the fire. The truck they had been hiding behind earlier was burning merrily while the cars that been the gang members' cover had miraculously missed being engulfed either by the explosion or fire.

Katsuo and the little girl looked around with wide eyes as the whirlwind around them blew away the smoke that had been covering the street. Behind them the fire from the exploded tank was dying down now that most of its fuel had been consumed. Seeing that most of the fire danger had passed Keitaro wound down his singing, the last few notes a change of tone, one that was noticeably of thanks. A few moments later the wind died down, leaving the crackle of flames the only sound.

Keitaro nudged Katsuo and the pair started walking again, this time to a group of cars that looked undamaged. By now heads were popping out from cover, the people looking awestruck at their survival. At first it was one or two at a time; but by the time they got behind the cars there were twenty people staring at them silently, including a news cameraman who was filming everything and a female reporter who was muttering softly to herself, the only person speaking.

Stopping in a mini plaza on the other side of a sidewalk Keitaro dropped to his knees and carefully laid the woman on the grass. Checking her pulse and respiration again, he could see that it was still regular, if a little on the low end. Katsuo dropped down to one knee beside them, the little girl wriggling free and crawling on top on the unconscious female, hugging her and crying 'Mama, Mama,' repeatedly.

Keitaro looked up from the heart-wrenching scene to see that everyone was still staring at them and not doing anything else. Coming up to one knee, he asked in a hoarse voice, "Is there a medic here? We need a medic..." Seeing no one react, he stood up and in a voice pitched to carry shouted "MEDIC! MEDIC UP THIS LOCATION!" The tactic worked; ten seconds later a man and a woman in Fire Service blue jumpsuits with white reflective stripes came running up carrying bulging nylon medical bags. They immediately dropped next to the woman, and after gently pulling the crying toddler off started examining her. "What happened to her?" The older male medic asked brusquely as the younger female one fitted an oxygen mask on her.

"Car crash, airbag knocked her out," Keitaro said shortly. "Seat belt was fastened, no other visible injuries besides the cuts on her face. Heart rate and breathing low normal." He was now standing behind Katsuo, who was holding the toddler again while still on one knee. "The little girl was in a child seat and sustained no visible injuries."

"Car crash?" The medic asked incredulously. "And you moved them?" It was a general rule of thumb not to move car crash victims without medical assistance in case of neck or spine injuries.

"Her car was shot up, presumably she panicked and crashed." Keitaro paused for a moment. "And the car is currently on fire."

Almost against his will, the medic glanced over at where said car was now becoming a sticky melty pile of plastic and metal before looking back again. "Yes I can see that." Visible deciding there was nothing to gain by asking more questions, the medic went back to work.

"Patient's pupils are blown and uneven, no bleeding or bruising around the eyes or ears," the female medic reported. "She's responding to light in her eyes and to pain stimulus but she's not reacting otherwise. It's probably just a mild concussion, the CT scan at the hospital will confirm it."

"Are there any other casualties?" Both medics looked up at Keitaro's question. They hesitated for a long moment before one of them answered.

"A couple of minor injuries from car crashes," the female medic responded. "An older man had what looks to be a minor heart attack from the shock and the stress." The medic paused and then spoke again. "And a young woman was hit in the leg by one of the stray bullets, nicking her femoral artery. An off-duty nurse and medics were able to get to and treat her before bleeding out completely, but they are behind cover in the line of fire and can't move her. They are waiting for one of the police armored cars to arrive to get her out."

"How bad is that last woman?" Keitaro's voice was getting flatter.

"Critical," the medic admitted. "The wound required a tourniquet and the artery being clamped. She's on IV saline, but if she's delayed too long getting to the hospital she may lose the leg."

"I see." Anything else that Keitaro would have said was drowned out by the crack of rifle fire. He stayed standing as everyone else flattened themselves to the ground, the little girl getting free from Katsuo and crawling over to her mother, whimpering all the while. Seeing that she was relatively safe and not interfering the medics let her be.

Walking over to a car parked by the curb, Keitaro saw that there were tracers coming again from behind the gang shooters' car, and some more slow fire from the targeted storefront still holding them in place. He would have thought they had run out of ammo by this point, but he was apparently mistaken.

"Baka get down, you'll get shot!" The older male medic snarled as he hugged the ground .

"You never hear the round that gets you," Keitaro replied absently. "If you hear the crack of the bullet it's already gone past." He then looked over to Katsuo and spoke. "Shatei, stay here," his words and tone an absolute command.

"Kyodai, what the hell are you doing?!" It was all Katsuo could do to not call Keitaro by his real name.

"Finishing this fight," answered Keitaro shortly. Stepping off the curb, he walked out from behind the cars, the bottom of his long dress coat and the ends of the knit scarf still wrapped around his face flapping in the increasing wind, the frustrated shout of "Goddamnit Akira!" coming from behind him as he began to slowly walk across the open road toward the gang members' cars.

(cue the first two minutes of the Tool song Eulogy, and turn it up loud)

A/N: I'm not going to say that I've taken too long in posting, everyone knows that. It's been six months since my last post, and short of a lapse into melancholy again there is no real excuse for it. I can blame work troubles, working overtime, switching to a new computer and writer's block, but it comes down be me buckling down to do it.

Once I finally got to writing (I have a bad case of general weariness and Attention Deficit… Oh Shiny!) I hit 6k words on this chapter last weekend. I decided to cut it off there rather than risk taking gods knows how long to write the upcoming fight and the aftermath. Besides, I have to do some internet research on the weapons that are going to be used, one of which you normally don't see much of outside of martial art flicks. And the fight is going to be brutal.

As to the music in this chapter, look up the Tool song Eulogy on YouTube and play the first 2:08 (the melody/non-lyric part) while imagining Keitaro doing an Unflinching Slow Walk toward the shooters while green tracers flicker around him…

Speaking of music, I don't think I've mentioned it but I've started listening to the Swedish power metal rock band Sabaton, whose themes are about war, historical battles and acts of heroism. What's funny is that I got into them by watching Girls und Panzer AMVs on YouTube. I came across an AMV using their song Art of War, then one using Ghost Division. Besides, where else are you going to find a song about the Normandy invasion (Primo Victoria) or the WWII Soviet counter-attack against the Germans (Panzerkampf)? These are the kind of songs you can imagine either modern day Vikings or Klingons singing, which is better than most rock tripe out there.

This chapter's winner for the Most Unusual Place Reading My Story Award (ha! It's only been six months since the last one…) is South Africa for multiple months of appearing on the stats page. The runner up is Zaire, even though it's probably one guy/gal reading my story.

My thanks to AZ MII and PCH for their beta skills… And my sincere appreciation goes to Ted Hsu, who keeps sending encouraging reviews to make sure I know there are people out there are enjoying and awaiting my writings. Hey man, get a FFN account so I can PM reply to your messages. I'm always looking for a good beta reader and correspondent. *hint hint* And to answer your question, the IRS and state tax board usually ends up owing me money, not the other way around (although not as much this year due to the tax law changes *sad*).

As of 11Apr19 this story has 459K Words, 996K Views (so close to 1 million views!), 1091 Reviews, 1615 Favorites and 1450 Story Alerts.

Thanks again to all my loyal readers (and all the new ones too!). *victory sign*