Vol 2, Chapter 1: Making a Move
The United Nations Security Council chamber began to buzz to life as the holographic images of the representatives began to fill the chairs, the air felt heavy as each one sat in silence. The walls, lined with flags from around the world, appeared to bear witness to the destruction of the Canadian Embassy on Japanese soil and the first possibility of war in over two decades.
"According to these reports," began the Chinese representative, her voice cutting through the hush like a scalpel, "the technology we are discussing was developed by Tadashi and Mary Kobayashi. Where are these scientists now?"
"Missing," replied the US secretary of state, his words dropping like stones into the still waters of the chamber. "They haven't been seen in over a decade, and despite Japanese reports of extensive search efforts, there has been no progress in their case."
"Curious," interjected the German delegate, leaning back in his chair with an air of skepticism etched across his face. "How very convenient that the creators of such a controversial technology cannot be questioned."
A murmur of consent rippled through the room, the sentiment shared by many.
"Furthermore," ventured the representative from Belgium, her brow furrowed in concern, "who is responsible for the destruction of the Embassy? We have received many conflicting reports, including one of a possible terrorist cell that has gotten its hands on Mach technology. If this is true then any nation could be the next target,"
"We are looking into it," acknowledged the Head of the UN, his eyes scanning the room, capturing the attention of every delegate present. "Our analysis suggests that there were three separate factions at the embassy. We believe Canada also has access to Mach technology."
He paused, allowing the implication of his words to sink in, before continuing with a steady resolve.
"Japan is unlikely to surrender the Mach devices willingly but if we allow this to go any farther war could break out once more. Therefore, we have sanctioned a covert operation to enter Japanese territory and neutralize any active units."
Whispers of agreement circulated throughout the chamber, a consensus forming.
"Regarding Canada," piped up the UK representative, a note of urgency threading his query, "what measures are we taking to verify they have Machs?"
"Surveillance," stated the Head of the UN firmly. "We are monitoring them closely to gather evidence proving they possess Mach units of their own. It's plausible they managed to steal a device, which would explain the attack on their embassy soil."
"Should this be confirmed," he continued, his gaze locked with that of the UK delegate, "the task force will extend their mandate to include the destruction of any Mach in Canadian custody."
The declaration settled heavily upon the assembly, each member was acutely aware of the potential consequences. The balance of power was at stake, and their fragile peace accords were dangling by a thread, tethered to a task force that if found would certainly start a war.
A heavy downpour drowned the streets of Hiroshima, still managing to soak Kimiko as she huddled beneath her clear umbrella and waited for Osamu to emerge. The city was deathly quiet, as the scenes of the destruction of the embassy played on a loop on every available screen.
"Kimiko," Osamu's voice was low, as he stepped out of a nearby convenience store, "I've combed through Tadashi and Mary's financials—every account, untouched. Not a single yen moved since the date of the 'accident'. And Hiro... they haven't reached out, not even in secret."
Kimiko remained silent as she digested the new information, maybe Hiro's parents really did die in that lab accident years ago. Osamu ran a hand through his short hair. "It doesn't add up, Kimiko. There are no death certificates for either of them—it's like they just stopped existing.”
"How is that even possible," she asked, her eyes narrowing. "Hiro was told they died in a fire that broke out in their lab but the rest of the world was told they vanished. Can both stories be true?" Kimiko started to pace as she tried to piece it all together; she had to find the truth, for Hiro.
"Both stories make sense, telling the family they are dead ensures they don't go looking for them. Tell the world they are missing put the focus on them and not on the government's operations," Osamu suggested, his dark eyes scanning their surroundings for any sign of unwanted attention. "We need to find out where exactly their lab was. Maybe we can find some answers there."
"But how exactly do we do that," Kimiko replied with a frustrated sigh, her fingers curling into fists. "Their lab was a secret so it's not like we can just find it on a map. Even if we could find it—there is no way it isn't guarded. It would be the birthplace of Machs, and the government would never allow just anyone to wander in."
"Which means we need to plan our next moves carefully," Osamu mused, rubbing his chin as he contemplated their next steps, strategies unfolding like a map in his head. "We need to get someone on the inside. If we can do that, then they can find the location for us. I think I know exactly who we need to track down."
"And who exactly are you talking about?" Kimiko pulled her jacket tighter against the evening chill. "Please tell me you are not talking about Mach 2. That pilot clearly has a death wish and is very unstable. You saw what he did at the embassy."
"I saw him put his life on the line to save Hiro," Osamu stated, gazing past Kimiko and watching some men dash across the street. "They know each other and I am willing to bet he would be more than happy to help us if it meant helping Hiro."
"Would you stake your life on it?" Kimiko warned, her voice taking on a softer edge. "How can we even be certain that Mach 2 would have access to Japanese government files? For all we know the freak would kill us both before we got a word out."
"You make a good point," he countered, a wry smile touching his lips. "But the way the military avoided shooting directly at Mach 2 leads me to believe they want him alive. They certainly were not giving Hiro the same treatment."
"Seems like a stretch," Kimiko said, tilting her head. She wanted to help Hiro, to prove she was sorry for getting caught, for forcing him to fight at the embassy. But she wasn't sure she could really trust the man who worked for the same people who had locked her up in the first place.
"It's all we have," Osamu whispered. He could see the hesitation behind her eyes, he had seen it before, this allience was new and it was clear he would need to do more to build her trust.
"Look, I have been doing this for a long time," Osamu started looking into Kimiko's eyes. "You don't have to trust me, but you do have to understand that in order for this to work we will have to rely on each other, there is no other way around it."
Kimiko's gaze locked onto his, steady and unwavering. "Then let's find Mach 2," she affirmed, reaching out her hand for him to shake. Before he could she pulled back slightly. "I am doing this for my friend. If it ever comes down to you or Hiro, I'm going to choose Hiro."
"I wouldn't expect anything less from you," Osamu said, taking her hand, he gave it a firm shake before letting go.
"There is one more thing we should look into," Kimiko swallowed, her mind wandering back to Yutaka. "There's this guy, Yutaka. He is how I got my Mach; He gave Hiro his as well. Yutaka has access to Mach technology and I don't know how he got it." Her eyes flickered as she pondered out loud. "It's possible he has more,"
Osamu's jaw clenched at the mention of this new piece to the puzzle. "I'll do a deep dive into this Yutaka, do you have a last name?" he asked, needing a little more to identify him.
Kimiko thought back to her conversation with Hiro about Yutaka, hoping to recall any mention of a last name. "I'm sorry I don't think he mentioned it," she confessed. "But Yutaka was covered in burn scars, scars like those would need serious medical attention."
"Well that's something," Osamu said, looking down at the ripples of the raindrops in the puddle as if the answers were going to bubble up to the surface. "I'll establish and cover and start looking through hospital records, but it will take time to find him."
"And what about me?" Kimiko asked, she knew they would have to part ways soon. "I'm only seventeen, I don't exactly have the funds to just disappear until needed."
Osamu's lips curled into a half-smile, Kimiko was clearly new to this. "I've thought of that," he said, placing a thin cybernetic phone in her hand. "It is connected to one of my offshore accounts, money will be the least of your worries, just don't go buying anything that would make you stick out, remember the Canadians know who you are."
"How could I forget," Kimiko said, plucking the device from Osamu's hand and sliding it into her pocket. "I take it this is where we part ways?"
"You'd be correct." Osamu moved toward the train station, pausing only to cast a final glance at Kimiko. "Keep that phone close, expect a call soon."
"Will do." Kimiko nodded, as she started to walk in the opposite direction. "It's been real."
As Osamu stepped onto the platform, his mind went back to all the unanswered questions they had. He knew the history of the Machs was a secret, but did the Japanese government kill to keep it? Who was Yutaka in all this and why did he hand over such dangerous weapons to teenagers? And how long would it be before his own government discovered he was running an operation of his own behind their backs?
The cool metal of the balcony railing bit into Prime Minister Mamoru's clenched hands as he stared out over Tokyo's sprawling cityscape, the smoke still rising from where the Canadian Embassy once stood. As a whole the mission hadn't been a total failure, Canada had also suffered a loss in the battle.
"Look at the mess you made Masato," Mamoru muttered, the name leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. It was Masato's carelessness with pilot selection that led to the Mach program being exposed. "When we find you," he growled, recalling the five missing Machs he was sure were in Masato's possession, he would be sure to make an example of him.
"Sir?" His aide's voice was tentative, breaking through Mamoru's thoughts.
"Any word from the UN?" Mamoru didn't look away from the skyline, his eyes scanning for invisible threats.
"Nothing yet," the aide replied, shuffling nervously. "It's been silent since your report."
Mamoru turned slowly, his glare settling on the young man. "Silent," he repeated acidly. "No they have already been talking, they are just keeping us in the dark."
"Perhaps they just need more time to deliberate—" the aide started, but Mamoru cut him off with a sharp wave.
"Deliberate? Or conspire?" His gaze shifted back to the horizon, where nothing but silence filled the void. "We have only three Machs left. Three," he whispered, more to himself than to his aide. "Canada still outnumbers us and if the other nation joins them in a war well..."
In his mind, the calculation of odds and strategies tangled together in maddening confusion. All he knew was he needed to clean up this mess and build some connections with other dignitaries if the country was going to survive this.
"Get the Chinese ambassador on the line," Mamoru commanded, his voice steady and eerily calm. "Tell them we would like to offer them a defense contract."
"Right away, Prime Minister," the aide said before disappearing inside.
Alone again, Mamoru leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cold metal. No one knew how many Machs they had left, and he could use that to his advantage. If some of the other countries believed he could over them a piece of the Mach project then just maybe he could buy himself some more time.
Halfway across the world, Kenneth Stark stood rigidly under the gray sky of a Canadian morning, the somber notes of a bugle cutting through the crisp air as Diaki's casket was lowered into the ground. Diaki's family watched teary-eyed as he gifted them the flag, I reminder he died serving his country.
"Damn it all," he muttered under his breath, as he made it back to his car, Diaki was more loyal than most.
"Sir?" his driver looked back at him in the rearview mirror, his expression solemn.
"Take me back to the office," Stark said without turning. "I have some unfinished business to attend to."
"Yes, sir," the driver replied. "Shall I let them know you are on your way?"
"No need," Stark said, a wry smile touching his lips. "I would prefer some peace and quiet at this time."
He let the thought hang in the air, as they pulled away from the cemetery. He considered their next move as they glided through the city, even though they identified the rogues nothing had really changed.
"Two wild cards," he whispered, almost admiringly. "But wild cards can be... dealt with."
"Sir?" The driver looked puzzled.
"Never mind," Stark waved dismissively. "I'm thinking out loud. Link me to Ward."
"Understood, sir."
Stark waited until the holographic version of Patrick Ward filled the seat next to him, the light of the projector catching the small dust particles in the air. Hiro and Kimiko were never recovered from the rubble of the embassy. They somehow escaped trained operatives and vanished without a trace, he knew he couldn't let that go.
"Patrick," Stark said firmly. "I have a new assignment for you. I assume our safe house is up at running by now?"
"Yes, sir."
"Perfect," Stark said, his eyes narrowed in contemplation. "Japan will be busy trying to deflect the accusations leveled against them by the rest of the world to worry about us. I want you to track down Hiro and Kimiko and I want the name of the person who let them out. Understood?" Stark ordered.
"Of course sir," Ward gave a small salute. "We will find out exactly how they escaped our custody and any co-conspirators will be punished."
"Excellent," Stark smiled to himself, the game wasn't over yet.
The once luxurious apartment was in shambles, anything that connected Yutaka or Hiro to it was smoldering on the balcony. Hiro's hands moved quickly as he packed the only bag he would be allowed to take with him. Stuffed clothes and old photos into the bag only pausing for a moment when he discovers a still-wrapped candy from Kimiko's birthday gift to him.
"Are you ready?" Yutaka asked, popping his head into the room. "We need to get out of the city as soon as possible."
"Right, I'm ready," Hiro replied, stuffing the small hard candy deep into his bag. He zipped up his pack and walked toward Yutaka. "So Toyone, huh? Why there?"
"My father came from there," Yutaka said, a wistful smile on his lips. "Quiet. Secluded. The perfect place to lay low for a while."
"But the city is on lockdown, how are we supposed to get through a checkpoint?" Hiro worried, his eyes glancing out the window at the flashing lights in the distance.
"And what about Uncle Goro..." Hiro started, his voice trailing off as he grappled with the implications. "What if—"
"Goro will be fine," Yutaka interjected firmly, placing a hand on Hiro's shoulder. "You just focus on staying alive."
They descended the stairs to Yutaka's car, the car humming to life after scanning his thumbprint. Hiro tossed his bag into the back seat before climbing into the passenger side. They drove out of the building and toward the nearest bridge only to discover the barricades had been raised.
"Damn," Hiro cursed under his breath, peering out the window at the raised steel walls.
"Looks like we won't be crossing today," Yutaka muttered, pulling the car to the side of the street to think. His eyes met Hiro's, a silent conversation passing between them.
"The red light district?" Hiro suggested, the place filled with people who mind their own business and don't ask questions.
"Red light district," Yutaka confirmed, typing the directions in the vehicle's GPS.
As the car came to life one more time to drive them to their new destination, Hiro could feel the wall closing in on him. He felt like they could be caught at any moment and he would wind up in one of those terrible interrogation rooms again.
"We will make it out of here," Yutaka whispered, noticing Hiro's expression.
"Will we though? They know what I look like now," Hiro shot back, staring blankly ahead of them.
"They know nothing," Yutaka said. "If they did then you would have never made it out of Tokyo. This lockdown is just standard procedure for any terrorist event."
"Right, that makes sense."
"We'll find a hotel and regroup," Yutaka said, pointing to a dingy sign for a love hotel, "There are ways out of this city that even the government doesn't know about."
"Right someone here will know something," Hiro said, painting on a fake smile. "We'll find a way out."