Date:         Thu, 5 Jan 1995 01:02:09 -0500
Reply-To:     NancySSCH@AOL.COM
Sender:       Highlander TV show stories <HLFIC-L@PSUVM.PSU.EDU>
From:         "N.L. Cleveland" <NancySSCH@AOL.COM>
Subject:      Final repost Aloha Ch 1.p50-56

Aloha c 1994 N.L. Cleveland  Ch 1 p 50-56

<Perhaps I can get his address from Yomo. Call him, warn him. Kassmir won't
dare try anything here, not unless he sees  no other way. With me out of the
picture, he'll relax and take his time. >

Duncan headed back to his rooms, stopping at the registration desk to inquire
if Yomo had checked out. Not yet. She must be upstairs.
- - - - -

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 trailed up her leg, from ankle to knee, to thigh. She
adjusted her stocking, and smoothed down the dress, but the image lingered in
his mind 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, sat up 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 hand gun, and pointed it at him.
Duncan stepped toward her, hands out, cursing himself inside for not having
seen, having anticipated this. "Yomo, Yomo, think about what you're doing."

"I have. I'm not just the messenger girl." Her voice vibrated with suppressed
passion, fury, triumph. " 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. " She looked at him, her
smooth face contorted in anger, still beautful, but the rock hard core of her
soul in the open 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 felt the second bullet strike him, next to the first,
as he collapsed to his knees, then folded over and sprawled on the floor. His
lungs would  not work. His heart was still and silent in his hollow chest.
 The pain was easing now, falling away from him.  <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 tropical 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 voices mingling with 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. <He must
be serious about one of these ladies.>

"Jonathan, so glad you could make it. Girls, I'd like you to meet our host.
Melody, Suzanne, Katya." Each woman smiled and nodded at Jonathan in turn.
Ski turned to the closest, a snub nosed blonde with a deep tan wearing a well
filled white string bikini. "Melody, 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 unfolded a spare apron for the woman, with a
flourish, 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 chef's 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." Ski puffed out his chest in a parody of family
pride, and winked at Jonathan."It's a 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. He felt disaster
closing in, now. "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 smiled back, without mirth, concern in his eyes. "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 knelt at his battered metal storage chest and  took out his Black
Dragon katana. The sword he had weilded in his vengance agasint the clan. 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 outside, to his
meditation  place above the beach, and sat, cross legged, his eyes closed to
the setting sun, listening to the soothing sounds of the surf, the gulls, the
breeze, smelling the mingled scents of salt spray and flowers, relaxed and
alert, the katana resting in its sheath at his side. He waited. Feeling the
unseen menace moving closer. Preparing for it's coming.

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 here. 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 quick series of
moves took him around the kitchen and across the hallway, ready to strike, or
defend against a hidden trap. <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 weapon 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?"

Jonathan 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? >
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