distance, took one look at the gray matter and blood splattering the heating unit in front of the window, and turned the upraised gun to the door.
She picked up the phone left-handed, but before she dialed she looked at her daughter. She spoke in Japanese to avoid any confusion. "Get in bed, keep your hands in sight. The police will be here soon, they will have guns and will be brash and loud in the American fashion. You must not make sudden movements. Understand?"
"Yes, Mother."
Sakura ran her hand over her daughter's head, clumsy with the phone. "Are you all right, my Kazuko?"
"Yes, Mother. They scared me, but I will recover."
"Good."
She dialed 9-1-1 and sat in the guest chair, pistol still in hand.
Hospital security broke into the ward three minutes later. She set down the pistol, pushed it out of arm's reach, and spoke to them around the corner. Eventually a black-haired kid in a uniform too large and too wrinkled drew up the courage to step into the room.
Fingers laced on top of her head, she explained the situation twice, and twice again for the police. They arrested her pending an investigation, but cuffed her out of her daughter's sight, a courtesy Sakura admired and appreciated.
Given one phone call, she dialed Janet LaLonde.
* * *
Matt gripped the armrest and looked at white nothing out the window, his stomach unable to settle in the incredible turbulence. The sixty-seater bucked in the driving winds, and the little girl right behind him shrieked in terror, a continuous keening that made the difficult landing downright intolerable.
Her scream took him back to the Atlanta rooftop, as Bravo Squad slaughtered one another with ruthless efficiency in response to the banshee's wail. Sakura had been right, of course. Nobody believed the report she'd kicked upstairs, that they'd defeated a supernatural threat by giving a mummy a jacket, and a possessed girl three states away had woken up in response.
The terrified shrieking intensified as they slid down the runway, the sloppiest landing he'd ever experienced. He turned on his phone before the seatbelt light clicked off, eyes on the screen to keep from glaring at the still-hysterical child. A message popped up from Janet.
Sakura's in jail. 101 4 th Street. Kazuko's okay.
Might be an ambush. Call me.
He pulled her up and hit "Send," then shuffled down the aisle with the sweating, praying, grateful throng. Janet briefed him on the situation: all signs pointed to self-defense, and the Olmsted County Sherriff's office would remand Sakura to his custody as a courtesy to the Department of Homeland Security, but as a foreign national she couldn't leave the country and would have to surrender her passport until they completed the investigation.
"So what's this about an ambush?" he asked.
"Sakura said one of the dead guys mentioned you."
"All right. I'll plan accordingly."
Matt picked up his bags and glanced up at the TV hanging from the baggage claim ceiling. The polar vortex covered half the country, with blizzard warnings from the Dakotas to the Carolinas. The boards next to the TV showed flight after flight changed to "Canceled."
"Not like we're going anywhere anyway."
* * *
Marie rolled her eyes. "You're babbling, Steve. Calm down and try again."
Breathless, Steve Palermo gasped into the phone. "They're dead. Ona, Sam, and Dave. Total freaking disaster, man. Bitch just went psycho on them, desperado-style."
"Did they get her daughter?"
Steve didn't reply. Big K held out his hand for the phone. His soft chocolate eyes flashed in anger as she turned away from him and asked again.
"Steve, stay with me here. Did they get her daughter?"
"No, man. She's okay, I mean fucked with cancer and all, but she's okay."
She reiterated for Big K's benefit. "So Ona, Sam, and Dave are dead, and both Kazuko Sakura and Isuji Sakura are still alive. Could you have fucked this up any worse?"
"I wasn't even there. I was the fucking
She picked up the phone left-handed, but before she dialed she looked at her daughter. She spoke in Japanese to avoid any confusion. "Get in bed, keep your hands in sight. The police will be here soon, they will have guns and will be brash and loud in the American fashion. You must not make sudden movements. Understand?"
"Yes, Mother."
Sakura ran her hand over her daughter's head, clumsy with the phone. "Are you all right, my Kazuko?"
"Yes, Mother. They scared me, but I will recover."
"Good."
She dialed 9-1-1 and sat in the guest chair, pistol still in hand.
Hospital security broke into the ward three minutes later. She set down the pistol, pushed it out of arm's reach, and spoke to them around the corner. Eventually a black-haired kid in a uniform too large and too wrinkled drew up the courage to step into the room.
Fingers laced on top of her head, she explained the situation twice, and twice again for the police. They arrested her pending an investigation, but cuffed her out of her daughter's sight, a courtesy Sakura admired and appreciated.
Given one phone call, she dialed Janet LaLonde.
* * *
Matt gripped the armrest and looked at white nothing out the window, his stomach unable to settle in the incredible turbulence. The sixty-seater bucked in the driving winds, and the little girl right behind him shrieked in terror, a continuous keening that made the difficult landing downright intolerable.
Her scream took him back to the Atlanta rooftop, as Bravo Squad slaughtered one another with ruthless efficiency in response to the banshee's wail. Sakura had been right, of course. Nobody believed the report she'd kicked upstairs, that they'd defeated a supernatural threat by giving a mummy a jacket, and a possessed girl three states away had woken up in response.
The terrified shrieking intensified as they slid down the runway, the sloppiest landing he'd ever experienced. He turned on his phone before the seatbelt light clicked off, eyes on the screen to keep from glaring at the still-hysterical child. A message popped up from Janet.
Sakura's in jail. 101 4 th Street. Kazuko's okay.
Might be an ambush. Call me.
He pulled her up and hit "Send," then shuffled down the aisle with the sweating, praying, grateful throng. Janet briefed him on the situation: all signs pointed to self-defense, and the Olmsted County Sherriff's office would remand Sakura to his custody as a courtesy to the Department of Homeland Security, but as a foreign national she couldn't leave the country and would have to surrender her passport until they completed the investigation.
"So what's this about an ambush?" he asked.
"Sakura said one of the dead guys mentioned you."
"All right. I'll plan accordingly."
Matt picked up his bags and glanced up at the TV hanging from the baggage claim ceiling. The polar vortex covered half the country, with blizzard warnings from the Dakotas to the Carolinas. The boards next to the TV showed flight after flight changed to "Canceled."
"Not like we're going anywhere anyway."
* * *
Marie rolled her eyes. "You're babbling, Steve. Calm down and try again."
Breathless, Steve Palermo gasped into the phone. "They're dead. Ona, Sam, and Dave. Total freaking disaster, man. Bitch just went psycho on them, desperado-style."
"Did they get her daughter?"
Steve didn't reply. Big K held out his hand for the phone. His soft chocolate eyes flashed in anger as she turned away from him and asked again.
"Steve, stay with me here. Did they get her daughter?"
"No, man. She's okay, I mean fucked with cancer and all, but she's okay."
She reiterated for Big K's benefit. "So Ona, Sam, and Dave are dead, and both Kazuko Sakura and Isuji Sakura are still alive. Could you have fucked this up any worse?"
"I wasn't even there. I was the fucking
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