Date: Thu, 14 Jul 1994 00:35:00 EDT Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: "(Nancy Cleveland)" Subject: Aloha Part 5 (of 7) He turned the key in the lock, and stepped inside. Yomo was in the central living room, sitting on the floral couch, sipping champagne out of a delicate crystal glass. She smiled and patted the empty space next to her on the couch. "Duncan. Come over and celebrate with me." She put her glass down and poured another, for Duncan, then replaced the bottle in its bucket of ice. "Celebrating the sale?" Duncan moved to her side, and gave her a one armed hug, picking up the champagne with the other. < She certainly is huggable. She hasn't mentioned any date for her return ticket. Maybe she'd like to stay an extra day? > "Mm hmm." She looked into her glass, her lips drawn back in something more and something less than a smile. Duncan's antennae went up. This is not just a celebration of selling an antique sword. < She's too tense. She seems to be anticipating something. What? > He put down his glass, untouched, and took her hand lightly between his own. "Yomo, do you know who bought your katana?" He tried to make it casual. Her fingers twitched inside his hand, the underlying tension coming to the surface. With a visible effort, she relaxed. Her fingers played gently with his palm, tickling and teasing, promising later delights. Then she slid her hand free, and leaned back on the couch, looking at him, and somehow through him. "I didn't really pay much attention. Some man, someone I've never met before." She drawled the words, slowly, deliberately, as she slid her leg up, loosening one slim black high heeled pump, and revealing a flash of bare skin between her crumpled dress above the lacy black stocking's top. Duncan's eyes followed her hand as it moved up her leg, from ankle to knee, to thigh. She adjusted her stocking, and smoothed down the dress, but the image lingered of the black lace against creamy golden skin. Duncan cleared his throat, and tried again. "I wondered if you could find out his address for me. I'd like to get in touch with him." Yomo sat up, and leaned towards Duncan, staring intently into his eyes. "Why?" Alarm bells. < Why does she care? Tread carefully, now. > Duncan shrugged, smiled wistfully. "I'd just like to see the katana again. Maybe if he ever decided to sell, ask him to talk to me, first. I already regret not buying it." He picked up her hand and kissed the palm, nibbling at her thumb. "Just think, you could be even richer, and I could have made you so." She laughed, charmed. "Silly man, I don't need the money from that katana to be rich. And if you really want it, I can get it for you." She smiled and relaxed, letting her legs slide apart as she sank back against the couch, her dress hiking up and showing her stocking tops and that creamy inch of bare thigh. She reached down with her other hand, and trailed her fingers up Duncan's leg, curving in and resting them on the warm mound between his legs, cupping and cradling him. He shivered involuntarily, and she grinned, delighted. "How." He paused, took another breath. "How can you get it for me?" He moved her hand to her breast, and held it like a puppet's, circling her nipples with the palm. He felt her stiffening, as she arched her back and stretched, her pelvis moving against his in a most enticing way, her other hand a warm sweet sensation on his crotch. < Duty first, then pleasure. Stick to the objective. > "It will be back here tonight. You can buy it from me, then. Or maybe we can think of another trade." She twisted and slid her body against his, heat radiating from every point of contact. < Is she working with Kassmir? Why do I even care? What does that man matter, anyhow? One more life, more or less. < Darius said every life mattered. It does. He does. And there was something, something about him... > Duncan sighed and lifted himself off of Yomo, where she had pulled him onto the couch. "Yomo, how can you get it back? Is the buyer returning it?" A look of irritation crossed her face, then she smoothed it away and held her arms out to Duncan again. "Come back, sweet one. I'll explain everything later. Now is not the time." "Now is the time. Tell me." He leaned over her, speaking harshly. < No more playing around. A man's life is on the line. > She pouted, and crossed her arms over her chest. "It's nothing to do with you. The man who bought it is a paid assassin, a renegade who turned against his own people. They sent me to find him, and now someone else will kill him. He's killed dozens of people, now he will die, himself." She rolled her head and glanced at him, through her lashes. "So do you want to come here, or should I send out for a real man?" Duncan swung to his feet."You're working with Atatul?" "What does it matter to you? Why do you care? And how do you know him?" Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, and she sat up, her muscles coiled like a cat ready to spring. "I don't know this other man, but I do know Atatul. His reputation is brutal." "So? This means my job is done and I have more time to play," she smiled seductively."And you'll get your toy all the sooner." "Yomo, I can't let you do this. Tell me how to contact Raven." "This is getting boring. I expected you to be more mature about things." Yomo reached under one of the pillows on the couch." I'm really disappointed, Duncan, but I can't let you interfere." She pulled out a small black automatic gun, and pointed it at him. Duncan walked toward her, hands out. "Yomo, Yomo, think about what you're doing." "I have. I'm not just the messenger girl. That man killed my father and my brother. I found their bodies, held them while they turned cold and stiff in my hands. I was only 10. I have looked forward to Jonathan Raven's death for a very long time. And no one, no one, will get in my way now. " Duncan made a grab for the gun. She pulled the trigger. There was hardly any noise, just a flat, muffled pop. The bullet caught Duncan in the chest. It felt like a sledgehammer blow. He staggered back, his face twisted in pain. < It never gets any easier. It hurts. God, it hurts. > She shot again, and he collapsed to his knees, then folded over and sprawled on the floor. < I guess she is working with Atatul. Why do I have to find things out the hard way? > His consciousness faded to black. * * * * * Jonathan walked silently out of the hotel lobby, lost in thought. Jari trailed along at his side. "You really spent all that money for an old sword?" Jari sounded incredulous. "Now what do you have left to live on?" Jonathan stopped, squinting in the bright noonday sun. "Jari, you don't have to worry. I have plenty of money. Even after buying the katana. Trust me". < Take a breath. Calmly now. > He looked at the boy, gauging the moment. "Tell me about Hikari." The boy glanced up at him, shading his eyes with his hand against the light. "I'll go get him. I know where I can find him. I'll bring him back. But you have to let me do this myself. Alone.You have to trust me, too." Jonathan considered. He could follow the boy again, and maybe lose both of them, or he could trust him, and maybe lose them both, too. And maybe not. < Take a chance. Let him come to me, if he wants to. I've finished chasing phantoms. Sure. > He reached into his pocket. "Here's $20 for a cab, if you need one. You know how to get back." "Thanks." Jari took the bill and stuffed it into his swim trunks, then spun and dashed across the street. Jonathan stood and watched him jog down the sidewalk, weaving in and out among the pedestrians, until the boy turned and disappeared into the warren of alleys leading to the port. < He's made it clear that he doesn't want or need my company . If he comes back, or not, I'm still leaving, tomorrow. I have a lot to take care of, starting with that realtor. > He tipped the carhop, then put the Jeep into gear and punched in Information on his phone as he merged with the downtown traffic. Pulling his Jeep into the driveway, Jonathan could smell the barbecue smoke, and hear several women's excited laughter, coming from the side yard. < Ski must be throwing a party. Good idea, keep the place public and open. No one could try anything here, today. > Jonathan walked around the house, and paused to take in the scene. Ski was manning the grill, wearing a tall chef's hat and long, sauce-splattered apron. A pile.. < A pile? how many did I pay for? > ...of t-bone steaks sat next to him, marinating, while he turned another pair of sizzling steaks over the red hot coals. Three bikini-clad women hovered around him like butterflies in a garden, offering variously to help, to take a steak, and to take over the grill while he ate. "Nice party. Can I come too?" Jonathan smiled broadly and walked into the yard. Ski looked up and smiled back, his white toothed grin gleaming in his sunburned face. He'd even trimmed his beard to a grizzled stubble. "Jonathan, so glad you could make it. Girls, I'd like you to meet our host. Melanie, Suzanne, Katya." Each woman smiled and nodded at Jonathan in turn. Ski turned to the closest, a snub nosed blonde with a deep tan in a white string bikini. "Melanie, darling, be a dear and take over the grill for me. I have a few things to discuss with Jonathan." He handed over the tongs and a spare apron to the woman, then nodded towards the inside of the house. Jonathan followed him in, sliding the door closed behind him as he entered. "Nice hat. Are you making a fashion statement?" Jonathan's smile won a short answering one from Ski, who carefully took off the towering hat and placed it on the kitchen table. "I'll have you know this hat was passed down to me from a long line of traditional barbecue masters. Hereditary craft, requiring years of study to master it. My family...." "Are experts in the field," Jonathan laughed. "Yes, I can see that." Ski moved to the window and glanced towards the hedges lining the yard, then turned back to Jonathan. His smile was gone. "I swept the house. No bugs on the phone or walls. There were two peepers in the bushes, watching the beach and the street approaches. I took a bird walk with the girls and they cleared out. The girls didn't notice, but I did. One of them left this." He held out a crumpled scrap of paper. It was muddy, and the delicate rice paper was torn, the Japanese printing obscured in spots. Jonathan stared at it, then took it from Ski and tried to read the characters. "It looks like a candy wrapper. Rice candy. From Hokkaido." Ski looked at him, no expression on his face. "Do you have any friends in Hokkaido?" "No." < Damn, Too late. > "Ski, I'm planning on leaving tomorrow. I decided this morning to sell the house. That might not be soon enough, now. I think you and the girls had better leave. I'll handle things here." Ski started to protest, but Jonathan cut him off. "Right now, you need to get these women home. It's not safe here. Take them yourself and go. The Dragons left that wrapper as a warning. If they hadn't wanted you to, you never would have known they were there. If you don't leave, now, they will try to kill you and them too." "And what are you going to be doing, while I'm playing escort service?" Jonathan turned and paced the room. "Tomorrow, it should be over, whatever happens. I want you to come back and stay here until the house is sold. I've already listed it with Aloha Realty." He rummaged on top of the refrigerator, pulled down a ring of keys, tossed it to Ski. "Here are the spare keys." "You need help.Back up." Jonathan shook his head. "I can handle them, on their terms. They want to make this a fight of honor. Ritual combat. If you stay, all rules are off. And I can't protect you and keep an eye out for them, too. Please, go. Don't try to come back. They'll never let you through. I'll call you later. After." Ski pulled out a .44 magnum from one of the apron's voluminous pockets, and laid it on the counter top. "Here, at least take this." Jonathan grinned. "How many do you have in there?" Ski grinned back. "More than enough. This is a spare. Fully loaded. Keep it." Jonathan picked up the gun, hefting its weight in his hand. "Thanks, Ski. I appreciate it. And everything else." He pulled out a kitchen drawer and laid the gun in, on top of some place mats and candles. "You'd better go now." Ski held out his hand. "I'll be seeing you, old buddy." Jonathan took it. They stood for a moment, looking at one another's face. "I'll be seeing you, too." Jonathan broke the grip, then smiled and punched Ski lightly on the shoulder. "Trust me." Jonathan watched as Ski pulled his big sky blue convertible out the drive, the girls waving cheerfully and blowing kisses as they left. Ski had offered a boat ride and Jonathan had pleaded indigestion. The marinading steaks had gone with the car, and now only a few paper plates and half empty beer bottles remained of the impromptu picnic. Jonathan moved across the yard and picked up the remnants, tossing the glass into his recycling bin, and the rest into the trash. < This must be over before Jari gets back. I don't want him and Hikari walking into a trap. How do I lure them in? Be visible, and alone. > Jonathan kneeled at his storage chest and took out his Black Dragon katana. The last time he had used it, was to battle the Dragons who had chased him down in Hawaii. He had been waiting, wondering ever since when more would come. < Now they have. Am I ready? > He unwrapped the sheathed blade from its dark silk covering and held it, briefly, then laid it across his bed. He changed into black silk pants, and slipped the loose black kimono over his shoulders. He walked to his meditation place, and sat, cross legged, his eyes closed to the setting sun, listening to the soothing sounds of the surf, the gulls, the breeze, relaxed and alert, the sheathed blade at his side. He waited. The sun had almost set, leaving a red glow across the horizon. Everything was bathed in soft pink light. Jonathan opened his eyes. Someone was coming. A car's tires crunched on the shell covered driveway. A car door opened, then slammed shut. A second door followed. He stood, picking up the katana in one fluid motion, unsheathing it and holding it ready. The doorbell rang. It was a door light, actually, from out here. It blinked on and off, a small green light on the wall of his house, facing the sea. < Who the hell was coming here tonight? > Jonathan moved quickly across the lawn. Not quite running. He slid through the open door to his house, the katana still in his hand. A defensive kata took him around the kitchen and across the hallway. No one. No attack. He looked at the front door. A woman's shape was visible through the glass side panels. A tall woman, with a long, slender box. < The katana. Of course. But the Dragons are here. They must be connected. > Jonathan put his katana down on the side table and opened the door. "Are you Jonathan Raven?" She was Asian, but her English was flawless. Her face and figure, equally so. Every curve was shown to advantage by her skin tight, black silk dress. Her eyes were hidden by sunglasses. < Sunglasses? At night? > Her body almost hummed with tension, as she stood on his doorstep, tapping the toe of her high black pump. "Yes. And you?" He blocked the door, looking past her into the darkening yard. < Was there someone else? Yes, another car. A man's shadow on the lawn. > "I'm Yomoko Toma. I have a delivery for you. From the auction. May I come in?" Raven remained in the doorway. "Who is your friend" She turned. "I came alone." The man stepped into the light. From the auction today. Kassmir. < So. > The unseen menace coiled around his head, focusing for the first time. < Him? > "I just had to see that katana again. Yomo didn't want me to tag along, but I followed her here. I hope this is a good time?" Kassmir smiled urbanely, and moved towards the door. Jonathan stepped aside this time and let them both enter. Jonathan picked up his katana and brought it with him to the living room. Kassmir raised his eyebrows in silent inquiry. Jonathan ignored him. Yomo had laid the leather case on the coffee table. Beside it was a release form, certifying delivery. "If you would show me a photo identification, please, then sign the form." Her tone was level, even, but underneath, he could sense she was keeping tremendous emotion in check. "I'd like to see the merchandise first, if you don't mind." Was she just a messenger, or was she with Kassmir? And where were the Black Dragons? She knelt and opened the case, lifted out the velvet wrapped bundle and loosened the cloth. The ancient scabbard lay inside. Jonathan moved forward, and drew the blade. He held it next to his own. The same pattern. The same design. But the balance was different. He dropped the tip, and swung it lightly up again.The legends were true. This blade is like something alive. < It almost defies gravity. This is truly the one. > Carefully, he laid the ancient katana down again. He stepped to a side cabinet and pulled out his current passport, turned and handed it to Yomo. "This should be sufficient." She glanced at it, looked at his face, and nodded briefly. "Please sign the forms." She held out a pen, and returned his passport. Jonathnan brushed her hand in passing, and she snatched hers away as if she'd been burned. < Interesting. > Kassmir was wandering around the room, looking at his art, his ceramics, as if calculating their worth. < Inventorying my life. How dare he. > Jonathan tamped down a surge of rage, took the pen and scribbled his name. $600,000. < Was it worth it? Yes. Now lets' see what I have to do to keep it. > "Here." Yomo took the form, carefully avoiding any more hand contact, folded it and placed it in her shoulder bag. She tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder, then stood, looking at him. Assessing him. Waiting. < For what? > "I'm sorry. I can't ask you to stay. I'm expecting...company. Perhaps another time, Atatul?" Jonathan moved to the door, ushering them out. Yomo followed him, silently. Kassmir lingered by the far wall, inspecting a brush work scroll by Mokoto. He turned and smiled again at Jonathan. < A shark looking at dinner. > The image flashed through Jonathan's mind, unbidden. He felt the sense of menace focus and stir. < Here? Now? > Yomo stepped out the door. Kassmir walked past Jonathan and closed the door behind her, then turned back to him, still smiling. < Here it comes. > Jonathan tensed, bending his knees slightly, centering his balance. He was aware of every object in the room, its location, his distance from it. "I have a message for you." Kassmir moved back into the room, to the table, Jonathnan warily followed, every sense alert. "The Black Dragons asked me to deliver it." Jonathan reached for his katana on the side board, his movement quick and precise. Kassmir picked up Matogawa's katana, pulled it out of the sheath in a quick motion, twisted and slashed at Jonathan's face. Jonathan ducked and blocked the attack, the two katanas ringing as they met. Kassmir slashed twice, up and down, then again, and Jonathan parried, barely stopping his attack this time. The ancient katana flickered in Kassmir's hands and reached out past Jonathan's guard, stroking his chest with its cool steel embrace. Frozen flame ripped across his skin. He could feel the soft velvet warmth of blood slipping down his chest, and his kimono stuck and flapped heavily as he moved. The pain was distant, not a part of him, yet. < Now, this is the only chance. > Jonathan leaned in under Kassmir's overextended reach, and felt metal strike bone as he thrust his blade forward. The shock traveled up his arm, jarring him to the teeth. Kassmir doubled over, gasping. Jonathan's katana protruded from his chest. Kassmir's hands clutched instinctively at it, tugging uselessly. "You *are* good. My compliments." Kassmir's smile spasmed. He sighed, and slid sideways to the floor. He lay huddled there, the katana still in his chest, his eyes staring fixed and unblinking at the wall. Jonathan slumped against the couch, panting for breath, the band of fire across his chest burning, making it hard to breathe deeply. He looked around. Blood was everywhere, streaking the wall, smeared on the couch, puddling on the floor under Kassmir. He peered down at his own chest. The slash was messy, long and deep. It would need stitches. Later. It was too soon to tell how bad the damage was. He closed his eyes for a second, summoning strength, then moved stiffly towards Kassmir's body and dragged the katana out. It wasn't easy. The katana had stuck to bone. Jonathan paused for breath when he finished, fighting a wave of dizziness. < Great. Now I've got a dead body, and Jari showing up any time. What's next, hot shot? Maybe I can call Ski to help me do a burial at sea? > He knelt over Kassmir's body, searching the pockets from some identification. There was a wallet, well stuffed with cash and credit cards, the standard drivers license, a library card, membership in some private clubs, nothing more. No clue to how he came to represent the Black Dragons. < Now, all I have to do is get back up. > A flash of metal caught his eye, at the edge of the gaping cut in Kassmir's chest. Jonathan ran his fingers along the ragged tear in the suit's fabric. He felt a resistance. He looked closer. A wire? The katana had sliced it neatly across. His fingers traced its path back to a small flat battery pack, taped to Kassmir's stomach. He unbuttoned the jacket, fumbling with the buttons in his hurry. There. A miniature transistor. Kassmir was wearing a radio transmitter? Who was listening? And where are they? A slight noise. Jonathan looked up. Jari, and another boy, stood at the kitchen entryway. They were frozen in shock, their mouths open in surprise. Jari held Jonathan's spare back door key in his hand. < He must have taken it off the ring. Smart kid. > Jonathan looked closer, harder, at the second boy. =========================================================================