Navigating the Storm

I keep my weapon clasped close to my breast, at the ready.

The late afternoon sun beats down intensely on my head as I crouch behind the large rock. It is unseasonably warm for October, especially for Northern Edo in the foothills of Mizueyama. These hills usually cool early in the fall, but not this year. I feel sweat accumulate in my short curls and on my brow as I press myself against the cool stone and listen carefully, knowing my fully armed assailants are circling on the far side of the boulder. I can hear them jabbering back and forth with each other in their own language. They are armed as well, and they’re gunning for me, but I’m ready to fight back.

Just take your time, Kat Wallace. There are only two of them. You can wait until they are distracted. I take a deep breath and start to move but freeze as I hear a yell in the distance. Dammit. It’s their leader. She is particularly shrewd and will organize the attack. I rethink my strategy. Three armed and now organized opponents. There’s no way I’m getting out of here without taking some fire. Suddenly there is palpable silence. They are closing in. It’s time for me to move.

I leap around my rocky refuge, aim my weapon, and begin to fire as I yell, “Avast, me hearties! Dead men tell no tales!” I hear their cries go up, and then I am hit, once, twice. They continue to fire, and I know I am done for. But I won’t go alone. I fall to the ground and wait, panting, my finger on the trigger. As they approach, I push onto my elbow, point my rifle, and begin to empty its contents onto them.

My shots are, even now, accurate, and I hear screams from my attackers, but they, too, are unrelenting, and I find I am hit again and again.

“Mama! You are getting my hair all wet!” Grey shrieks at me through her giggles.

Kik and Mac throw their water pistols aside and simply jump on me, cackling with toddler chuckles. “We got you! We got you!” I am soaked through, but it feels good in the heat.

“Yeah, you did.” I wipe a wet curl from my face. “But then you approached while I still had ammo, so I got you!” We are all talking and laughing at once.

Grey turns and puts her little five-year-old hands on her hips as she castigates her just-barely two-year-old brothers. “Told you! We are supposed to wait a safe distance.” I smile as she repeats the lessons I have taught her.

The boys, one sturdy with brown curls and green eyes and one slighter with straight dark hair and eyes to match, though, are joyously wet and muddy and don’t listen to their sister’s scolding. They suddenly see their grandmother, Takai’s mother, who had brought Grey over to the park from school, and they run toward her for a hug. She’s going to hate getting all that mess on her. I hop up and scoop Grey into my arms, kissing the dark brown waves of her hair that are now dripping with water as I move to run interference for Yumiko.

“Thanks for bringing Grey over.” I smile at the stern, unyielding face. My rough and rowdy play with the kids has never impressed her. Too fucking bad. We have fun. “Boys, don’t get mud on your grandmother.” I provide lip service for them to behave, but in reality, I kinda like seeing them fluster her and mess up her impeccable self. She has never warmed to me, and the events last month in Bosch have made her even colder still.

She breathes a disapproving inhale through her nose. “Is this really an appropriate way for you to play with my grandchildren? They aren’t pirates, you know. The boys are far too small for such roughhousing, and I really think Grey should stop this brawling and start something more suitable for a young lady, like ikebana.” She looks disapprovingly at the children. Grey has climbed down from my arms, and she and the boys are now engaged in finding rocks to throw into the creek on the way home.

Yumiko has never disguised her dislike for all things Bosch. I usually try to defuse things, but today I decide to poke the bear. “Grey’s a bit young for ikebana now. But there’s no reason she can’t be a flower-arranging pirate someday. And the boys started roughhousing in the womb. They’ll make fine Bosch-doan pirates.” I wait for this comment and my portmanteau to land and am rewarded with the gratifying look of disgust that crosses Yumiko’s features. “Boys, give your grandmother a quick kiss. We need to go get dinner ready. And remember, Papa will be home tomorrow.” Black-haired Kik and blond-brown Mac begin to clap and chant, “Papa comes home!” as they smear two muddy kisses on Yumiko’s cheeks. “Do you want to join us, Yumiko?” I offer as graciously as possible. Please say no.

“I cannot. I have important work that I need to accomplish.” She draws herself up as she mentions her work. Edoan diplomats, such as my in-laws and husband, are proud to the point of hubris about their profession. But I also think she is giving me a dig as I cannot do the work I love. Not for a whole year. Not until my banishment from Bosch is over.

* * *

“Mother, you’ve made your feelings about Kat very clear for years.” Takai frowned at the older woman sitting in the chair across from him. Her shoulder-length, deep brown, almost black hair was pulled back in a tidy ponytail with a thick fringe of hair cut into neat bangs that accentuated her dark eyes. She wore a very proper, yet very fashionable, Edoan tunic with a high neck and full sleeves in a deep marmalade color, highly appropriate for the season. She had small and elegant gold earrings that complemented the gold chain around her neck. Takai shook his head. “But she’s my wife, and she’s the mother of my children: your grandchildren. You must accept that she is here to stay.”

“My son, Kat Wallace is a pirate. You can’t trust pirates. They refuse to even be part of the FA. How do you even know if you and the children are safe with her? Takai...” And here Yumiko Shima leaned forward meaningfully. “She killed her own father!” This she said in a loud whisper that was almost a hiss.

Yumiko had made this statement in much the same way almost every time she had seen Takai since he, the pirate, and the children had returned from Bosch a few weeks earlier. Now her son stood and looked balefully down at Yumiko. “Enough.” His handsome face, so like his father’s, was stern. “I don’t pretend to fully understand why she did what she did, but I know our children are safe and well and loved when they’re with Kat.”

Yumiko’s lips pressed together and formed a straight line. She audibly breathed a puff of air through her nose as she glanced down and away from Takai. It was the expression she always took on when she knew she had lost an argument. She paused for only a moment then stood, quietly turned, and picked up the light knit throw from the side of the chair, carefully shaking it out. She folded it neatly, putting it in its place on the chair back. “I expect you are right about the children. They’ll be fine.” Yumiko kept her back to Takai as she continued. “But dear, what do you expect her to do when she invariably discovers your assignations while away on diplomatic missions? What do you think a pirate would do?” She turned her head and smiled a small, knowing smile at her son, watching his deep brown eyes that had just a hint of laugh lines in their corners as he took in her words.

“What? Mother, I don’t have any idea what you are talking about.” Takai’s eyes went wide ever so briefly, and he nervously brushed at his hairline near his ear with his right hand. Yumiko kept her expression unchanged, but inside, she gave a laugh. She knew she had been correct. After all, she knew her son best. She knew all his tells when he lied, whether it was about a broken plate when he was a child or his adult penchant for romancing the loveliest woman in the room, wherever that room was. She had thought about this behavior extensively and had decided that Takai would never be settled until he found a woman very much like her. She would see to it he did just that.

“Takai, dear, the diplomatic corps of New Earth is not large, and while we keep confidential those things we must in our work, what happens at events never stays quiet for long.” She turned and put a hand on her son’s arm and looked at his face with its strong jaw, arched cheekbones, and bronze complexion. “My boy, I do not fault you at all. You are far too handsome, intelligent, and charming to not attract lovely women. But I do worry about your safety if your pirate wife becomes aware of certain events.”

Takai looked at his mother. She could see him appraising the situation by the way his eyes studied her. “I think it best...” He paused and glanced involuntarily over his shoulder. “…that information stays private. Though Kat would not behave recklessly.” She saw his eyebrows drop briefly, and she knew she had planted a seed of doubt. Good.

She squeezed his arm. “Well, you know best, certainly. And I would never intentionally say anything.” She let the word “intentionally” hang in the air for the briefest moment. Then she moved her hand from his arm and began maneuvering about the room, straightening the living area that was already neat and tidy. Then, almost as an afterthought, “Oh, I wanted to ask you if you could talk with your wife about Aika Grey coming over on Tuesdays after school. I believe she is the right age for me to instruct her in ikebana. But her mother seemed reluctant when I brought it up.”

Takai closed his eyes and sighed. “Yes, Mother. I will see to it. Expect her next Tuesday.” He walked over and leaned toward her as she proffered her cheek for a small goodbye kiss.

“Wonderful. Have a safe walk home.” She raised a hand in farewell as her son opened the door and stepped out into the October sunshine. Then she paused as she watched him walk down the path to the road. Walking home to that cabin. There were so many isolated areas on that path. Her brain started to whir. She hadn’t had enough information the last time. This time she would ask an Edoan to handle it. They would not fail the way the outsiders had back when Aika Grey was an infant.

* * *

Takai walked along the road from his parents’ home that meandered through the village. Just like always, he felt like he would never measure up to his mother’s expectations. It was amazing that she could make him, a grown man, a trained FA officer, a diplomat, a scholar, a family man, feel like a naughty child. He sulked a bit over the injustice of it and toyed with a few conversations in his head that he knew he would never actually have the nerve to have with Mother. That was one of the things he admired about his wife. She had backbone and didn’t hesitate to say what she thought.

Takai smiled to himself as he thought of the first time he had seen Kat: That fire and the devil-may-care attitude intrigued him then. It still did. He believed she could do anything. He had seen her work as a pirate, and he had wanted her ferociously. It still stood as one of his greatest achievements that he had made her his own. While he hadn’t originally intended to procreate, the children he and Kat had brought forth were the lights of his life, and he was careful to curb his expectations for them. He knew how distressing that could be. And Kat was an astounding mother. She was gentle and kind with the children and encouraged them to explore the world while creating a safe home for them to return to.

He thought of his mother’s comments on his behavior while on diplomatic missions. He shrugged. He had always appreciated beautiful women, and beautiful women seemed to be drawn to him. Ever since secondary school, he had enjoyed acquiring them into a collection. In his mind, his women were part of a carefully arranged bouquet, each a flower in it, unique and exquisite.

Kat was now the center of his bouquet and always would be. A sturdy perennial that he now compared all other flowers to. He had so hoped he had successfully transplanted her to Edo. Before the old man had convinced her to do the unthinkable, she had seemed happy and settled in their cabin. They had even talked occasionally about another child. The only silver lining Takai had seen to Kat’s role in the old Master Commander’s death was that she would be banished. Bosch would be off the table forever. But the eleventh-hour testimony of the doctor changed that, and the Kat who had returned to Edo was different: unsettled and eager to step back into her pirate life.

It had taken him quite some time to convince Kat that they should marry. He had attempted in the first year of his marriage to be monogamous, but it was not his way. Of course, he sought other women out when Kat was unavailable due to pregnancy and child-rearing. And of course, he collected many diplomatic blossoms during his travels. How could he be expected not to? He had even tried to be honest, making a suggestion once to Kat that he might be interested in seeing other women. He thought about how fierce she had become then, her eyes flashing as she ferociously forbade even the idea. Then he smiled when he recalled their lovemaking after he had made the suggestion. Perhaps he should bring the idea up again. He paused and considered, his mother’s words echoing in his ears. Kat would never harm him. Would she?

* * *

Jiro’s comm rattled in his pocket, and he surreptitiously pulled it out and glanced at the screen. He smiled to himself and looked at the men sitting around the table in the small restaurant snacking on gyoza and edamame and talking business. He addressed the older man at the head of the table. “Tsukasa-san, if you will excuse me. This is a comm I need to take.”

Kenichi Tsukasa, a strongly built man in his sixties with deep black hair set off with the occasional silver strands, cut conservatively, nodded at the dark, tousled-haired man some thirty years his junior and went back to speaking to the man on his left. Tsukasa-san was the head of the Koshijiya-rengo, the current dominant yakuza family in Edo. Jiro was a kobun. He was not a foot soldier, but neither was he really an executive. Too many not-old-enough-to-die waka gashira stood in his way. As Jiro stepped toward the door, he did not see the small nod that Tsukasa, who in his view was getting old and making poor judgments, gave to Riki, a large, impressive bodyguard.

Jiro walked down the narrow street, which really was more of an alley, lined with shops and tiny restaurants with paper lanterns strung high up, zigzagging back and forth across the street. Of average build in Edo and with a rather plain face, he was a man who could blend in. People didn’t notice him. Until it was too late. He pressed the comm to his ear. “Yes, ma’am. I understand the assignment. Have you sent the funds to the account number I gave you?” He listened to the woman as she affirmed the transfer and then reviewed, again, the details. “Yes, ma’am. It will look like a robbery.” He listened again and rolled his eyes. “I understand. Please be assured I am skilled in this.” Jiro nodded as he listened. This woman obviously did not know Jiro’s skill set as she continued to warn him about the target’s abilities. “Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate the details you have given. The task will be completed by next week.” He smiled. “Good day to you.” He ended the comm with the woman and decided to follow up on a different job, placing another comm. He listened to the distant buzzing sound.

“Abernathy Enterprises, how may I direct your comm?” A pleasant, Western voice finally stopped the buzzing.

“I am Jiro Yamagata. I was asked to contact Mr. Abernathy’s office by—”

“One moment please,” the pleasant voice cut him off, and he frowned. “I’ll transfer you.”

A different tone sounded this time, definitely more pleasant than the standard one. “Mr. Yamagata, it’s Casey Sutton, Mr. Abernathy’s assistant. I believe we spoke a few days ago.”

Jiro cringed at the FA-style honorific. How can Abernathy’s people not even attempt to be respectful of Edonese customs? But then he considered the markers to be made and the influence the relationship would bring if he could nurture it and set his pride aside. “Yes, Mr. Sutton. I am available for the job you and I discussed. As it turns out, I will be in the general area you had mentioned in the next few days.”