Ikimashou!
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PROLOGUE: A Matter of Trust
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Annette stepped out of the subway entrance gasping for air. The recent push for elevators in train stations (thereby making them wheelchair-accessible) hadn\\\'t gotten around to the York Street stop, which meant anyone wanting to leave the station had better be in top physical condition. The curly-haired blonde looked at the last flight of stairs with disdain. “That\\\'s it! There\\\'s no way in hell they\\\'re making me come out here again!” Taking a few deep breaths, she stepped out of the nondescript building that served as the entrance, and headed down the sloped street. “It was a stupid idea to come all the way down here to begin with!” After a couple blocks, she found herself at a desolate intersection. There seemed to be abandoned warehouses on every corner, and not a person or a parked car to be seen. Annette\\\'s irritation began to morph into worry. She knew this wasn\\\'t the safest neighborhood in Brooklyn, but as the saying goes, \\\'you go where the story is.\\\' She checked her notepad to make sure she had the right address, turned a corner and headed towards her destination. “If I make it back alive, I\\\'m asking for double pay...or a transfer!”
The place wasn\\\'t hard to miss, given the large silver wrench bolted to the front side of the squat building. Above the wrench the words “GEAR WORKS” shone in all its metallic glory. “Could be worse...could have some severed heads or bloody chicken feet or whatever. Oh well, let\\\'s get this over with.” Annette stepped up to the large iron door and pushed the call button. A loud buzz echoed inside the building, giving the reporter the impression the place was much larger than it seemed. After a minute, she pressed the button again. Another buzz, followed by a loud bell.
A sharp crackle got Annette\\\'s attention. It came from a small speaker beside the door. “Excuse me, but do you realize what time it is? We do not accept customers without an appointment, and we certainly do not accept them after midnight.” The voice was firm and unwavering...and definitely female.
“Hmph!” The blonde took a step back, then glared at the speaker as if to intimidate it. “Hey! I didn\\\'t want to come out to this dump in the first place! You called me, remember? So can the attitude and let me in!”
A slight pause, then the speaker crackled to life once more. “My apologies, Miss Stanhope. Please come in.” This time the voice was softer, but just as direct. Again a bell sounded, followed by a different buzz.
“Thank you!” Annette said haughtily. A couple of clicks, and the large door swayed inward a little, allowing Annette access. “I guess that\\\'s my cue.” As she stepped in, the door slowly closed behind her, the locks tumbling into place. The petite reporter peered at the multiple locks, wondering if they were there to keep people out...or keep them in.
“Please use the door opposite the exit, Miss Stanhope, then have a seat. I will be with you in a moment.” The voice came from everywhere...or at least it seemed that way, as there were no visible speakers.
Annette loosened the sash on her overcoat and looked around for a moment. The parlor was surrounded in dark brown tones, the recessed lighting in the ceiling the only decoration. As she walked arcoss the room, a click sounded and another door opened. Annette approached the door warily, hoping whatever was on the other side was more inviting than this.
The next room was quite large and extremely well-lit. A row of pick-up trucks of various sizes lined the fromt of the room, most without tires or doors. A couple of forklifts sat idly in one corner of the room, while a large machine of some sort hummed in another. Not far from the door sat a small desk and two cushioned chairs, one on either side. Annette sat in one of the chairs as she scanned the assorted piles of paperwork scattered across the desk. Most seemed to be invoices of some kind, mixed with a few enveloped decorated with the same wrench logo she had seen outside the building. “Funny,” she mused, “no one said anything about this being a chop shop.”
“That\\\'s because it isn\\\'t.”
The voice was the same as before, but this time Annette thought it seemed to come from directly behind her. She practically jumped out of the chair and crumbled to the floor, letting out a shriek. “Wh-wh-where did you come from?”
The owner of the voice let out a laugh. “I\\\'m sorry. I walk quite softly, so people tend not to hear me coming. My apologies for...disrupting you.”
Annette gathered her composure and then took a minute to see who it was that frightened her. The first thing she saw was a pair of black slippers on some pretty small, black-stockinged feet. They were attached to a pair of calves that Annette wish she had, as they seemed to belong to a dancer. The rest of the body was, to the reporter\\\'s dismay, covered in a long white lab coat, which was crowned by probably the prettiest head Annette had ever seen. The other woman\\\'s face was almost triangular, a small chin tapering up and out to hold full lips, high cheekbones and an emerald-green, almond-shaped left eye. The face was striking enough, but the hair that surrounded it was eye-catching in it\\\'s own right. It was a dazzling array of patched colors; brown, black, grey and an odd shade of orange-red amid a sea of snow white. It was fluffed, almost \\\'80s-style, and hung well past the woman\\\'s shoulders. She had a long white bang which covered her right eye, which Annette wondered was a beautiful as the left one.
The woman stuck out a small, delicate hand. “Please, let me help you...unless you plan to conduct your interview from the floor. Trust me, these chairs are much more comfortable.” She grasped Annette\\\'s hand and gently lifted her to her feet.
The blonde let out a half-embarrassed “thank you”, but she never let her gaze leave the other woman\\\'s face. “You\\\'re...you\\\'re Miss Attaturk?”
“That\\\'s Dr. Attaturk, but you can call me Naya. If we\\\'re going to do this, we might as well be as comfortable with each other as possible, right?” Her lips curled into a smile, which brought more color to Annette\\\'s face than the reported could fight down.
“Uh...yeah, right. Comfortable.” Something about the womam set off an alarm deep in the recesses of Annette\\\'s mind, but she wasn\\\'t listening to that at all. She was too busy enjoying the feel of Naya\\\'s warm hand in hers, and basking in the warmer smile the other woman was offering. Suddenly the other woman let Annette\\\'s hand go, and reallity slowly crept back to her mind. She had a job to do, not someone to pick up. “So...uh...why did you choose me to do this interview? I mean, there\\\'s so many others out there...Pulizer Prize-winning journalists you could have related your story to. Why me?”
“To be honest, I like your work.”
That response brought Annette\\\'s eyebrows so high they almost reached her hairline. “What? I\\\'ve only been writing for the Courier for a little over a year. What could you possibly have seen that you liked?”
“Your honesty. That, and your sense of loyalty.” Naya waved to one of the chairs and waited for Annette to have a seat. She then walked around the desk and took a seat of her own. “I read your piece on the backdoor deals that resulted in the creation of Brooklyn Bridge Park. I must say you ruffled a few feathers there, but the end result was that the park remained public instead of being private, and a few heads got to roll in the process. The thing that impressed me most is that you never gave up your sources. For a budding journalist such as yourself, that was a very dangerous thing to do.”
“But that\\\'s the first thing I learned when I broke in the business—never give up your sources!” Annette\\\'s proud delivery made Naya\\\'s smile evolve into a toothy grin.
“Remind me to thank your professor, or editor...or whoever taught you that! It\\\'s not just that; I can tell by your writing style that you\\\'re curious...you like to find the answer to questions that no one wants to ask, or just takes for granted.” Naya paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. “So, I know I can trust you to keep my identity a secret, and to let the world know what has happened to me. I did have reservations about bringing you into this—I\\\'m sure you have your own life to lead, with your own concerns and someone to love or who loves you...”
Annette\\\'s heart jumped at the utterance of that last sentence. True, she had her own life, but it was a solitary one, mostly spent chasing down leads that rarely turned into anything resembling the park scandal. “It\\\'s okay, really,” she said nervously. “I\\\'ve been looking for someone—er, something like this for awhile, so don\\\'t worry.”
Naya giggled a bit at the little slip. “I don\\\'t want to disrupt your life, but I have a good feeling about you.” She eyed Annette up and down, then nodded. “Yes, yes...a good feeling indeed. So, shall we get started?”
“Just a moment...” Annette reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a microrecorder, along with a few blank cassettes. “I\\\'m not sure how long this will take, so I want to be prepared.”
“Good idea,” Naya agreed, “as this will indeed take some time. Tell me, Annette...do you know what is located at the corner of John Street and Adams Street?”
“Wait...let me guess: the burial place of John Adams?”
Naya laughed. “Nice comeback, but you\\\'re incorrect. There is an electrical power plant on one corner...or at least, that is what you\\\'re supposed to see there.”
“So you\\\'re saying that it\\\'s something else entirely...but I have seen it. Definitely looks like one. Even has that weird electrical vibe coming from it.”
“All by design, I assure you. I used to work there, so I can say with absolute certainty that it\\\'s anything but a power plant.”
Annette\\\'s interest was piqued. “So what is it, then? A covert spy headquarters? A base for a terrorist cell? An evil villain\\\'s secret lair?”
Naya set her head on her folded hands and watched as Annette\\\'s mind stewed over the countless possibilities. When she got her fill of fun, she tilted her head to the side. “Would you believe a secret government laboratory working on experiments involving human/animal hybrids with the desired result being a race of super-warriors specially designed to fight the war against terrorism?”
“Uh...no?”
The dumbfounded look Annette wore on her face, coupled with her glazed-over blue eyes, led Naya to take a different tack. “Hmmm...it appears I\\\'ve broken your mind. Let\\\'s try something else. I\\\'m sure this will convince you.” She rose from the chair and moved closer to Annette. As she drew her face closer to the reporter\\\'s, she lifted the white veil of hair that draped over her right eye.
The daze Annette was in was over and done at that moment, for what she saw needed her full attention to process.
“What...what happened to you?”
Behind the shaft of hair, a swath of pitch-black skin surrounded an almond-shaped eye. Unlike Naya\\\'s left eye, this one was gold in color. The pupil was slit, hiding a deeper gold iris behind it.
“It\\\'s...it\\\'s almost like a cat\\\'s eye...”
“No,” Naya corrected, “it IS a cat\\\'s eye.” She squatted down in front of Annette, her fists balled and placed flat in the space on the floor between her legs. “I am putting us both at risk at what I am about to do, so be prepared to run if I tell you to, okay?”
“But...” One stern stare from Naya erased any questions from Annette\\\'s mind. “Okay. Just don\\\'t try to kill me.”
“I will be the least of your problems.” Naya let out a deep sigh, and concentrated. In a moment she disappeared, the lab coat falling to the floor. “Could you remove the coat from the floor, please? I just had it cleaned, and the dry cleaners charges a fortune.”
Annette was sure she heard Naya\\\'s voice, but she wasn\\\'t sure where it came from.
“Lift the coat, please! It would be quite embarrassing to be caught like this!”
The reporter\\\'s eyes returned to the rumpled coat lying on the floor. “I\\\'m...I\\\'m sorry!” She tried to gather the coat up quickly.
“No! Just pick it up by the collar! Otherwise you\\\'ll probably suffocate me!”
“Oh...right!” She wasn\\\'t sure how this made a difference, but Annette did as she was told. As she lifted the coat off of the floor, a soft thud sounded.
“Ah, that\\\'s better. Now, just drape the coat over your chair and follow me. We need to be out of here within the next two minutes or the Chimera will come after us.”
The fact that the beautiful woman Annette was interviewing just disappeared into thin air was enough to temporarily shut her mind down. The fact that a calico cat just told her that her life was in iminent danger put her at a high risk for serious brain damage.
- - - - -
“We got something!”
A burly man in a dark suit lifted his head from the pile of paperwork on his desk at the sound of the message coming through the speakers. “Where is it located?”
“Not far from here, sir. About three blocks away. There\\\'s no civilians on the streets at the moment...shall I send the Chimera?”
The man thought for a moment. “What\\\'s the local police situation in the area?”
“There seems to be a patrol car at the Sands Street ramp of the Brooklyn Bridge. It\\\'s within earshot of high-damage action, sir.”
“Hmmm...send the Chimera, but order it not to do any damage. I want the target returned alive and in one piece. Am I clear?”
“Understood, sir! Chimera deployment in sixty seconds!”
“Keep me appraised of the situation...and let me know immediately when the target is secured and back at base.”
“Yes, sir!”
The speaker went silent. The man behind the desk, however, was anything but. “Damn her! She\\\'s toying with us! She could\\\'ve gone anywhere in the city—hell, anywhere in the world! What the hell is she up to?” The man looked at the open folder on top of his desk, where a picture of Naya lay face up. “I don\\\'t know what your game is, but I\\\'ll make sure you\\\'ll use up all nine of your lives before you get the better of me!”
- - - - -
“You wouldn\\\'t happen to have a car, would you?”
“In this city? Are you kidding?” Annette replied, trying her best to keep up with the cat. “I keep my Metrocard with me everywhere I go!”
“It\\\'s just as well...you\\\'d probably be run to the side of the road or something. Besides, there should be more than enough people for them not to do anyhting serious.”
Naya led Annette to the back of the building, just as a loud thumping sound had come from around the corner. “Time to move! We\\\'ll take the subway. I have someplace we can hide until I can return to human form.”
“What was that noise? Is that\\\'s what\\\'s after us?”
“I\\\'m afraid so, but let\\\'s not wait here and serve it tea and cookies...” The pair made their way as quietly as they can away from the building and towards the station, staying in shadows as often as they could. Just as they thought the thumping noise had stopped, it started again; this time it wasn\\\'t banging against a door, it was stomping along a side street.
Annette stopped for a moment. “You think it knows we left?”
“It does now,” Naya groaned. She lifted a paw to point down the street, where a large body was moving its way clumsily along the cobblestones. “Shhh...” Naya ran off towards the station, Annette following as close as she could.
The beast followed its quarry out from under the Manhattan Bridge and onto Sands Street, where some early-morning traffic was approaching.
Ah, a break! “Annette...quick, get across the street!” Naya waited until the other woman was clear, then ran out into the oncoming traffic.
“Naya!!! What the hell!?!?!” The blonde screamed as car after car swerved or braked to keep from hitting the calico.
While Naya was busy dodging traffic, the beast that pursued her stopped in its tracks, then hugged a nearby wall. Soon it\\\'s color went from a deep black to practically transparent, matching its surroundings exactly...as long as it stood perfectly still.
The second she couldn\\\'t see the beast anymore, Naya ran back to Annette, then the pair headed for the train station. The sound of the police siren caught Annette\\\'s attention before she could scold the cat.
“Is that your cat, Miss?”
“No, officer,” the reporter said anxiously. “It...it just likes to follow me, I guess.”
“Maybe you should take it home. Don\\\'t know why it ran out in traffic like that...maybe it wants to test the whole \\\'nine lives\\\' theory, huh?”
Annette tried to match the cop\\\'s chuckle, but she really wanted to get away from him...and fast. “Yeah, cats are kinda crazy, huh? Well, we\\\'d better go. There\\\'s no telling what she\\\'ll do next!”
“You have a good night, ma\\\'am.” The officer waved and returned to his car.
“You too, officer.”
Naya watched as the car backed into its customary spot, then joined Annette at the entrance of the subway. “I resent being called \\\'crazy\\\', you know!”
“What else would you call that stunt you just pulled? You could\\\'ve gotten killed!”
“True, but that would\\\'ve been better than being caught by the Chimera.”
“Are you sure it won\\\'t follow us down here?” Annette wondered.
“Not a chance,” Naya answered. “They won\\\'t risk using that where people can see it. Too many questions to answer.” The cat strolled under the turnstile as Annette swiped her card and went through as well.
“Maybe it would be best if I carried you. Animals running loose in the subways is kinda frowned upon...unless you\\\'re a rat.”
Naya thought about it, started to protest, then thought better of it. She hopped up on the top of the housing of the escalator. “I guess you\\\'re right. Besides, I could use a little pampering after that little bit of exercise.”
Annette rubbed the cat\\\'s head a bit before picking her up. She opened up her coat and cradled the cat inside, allowing Naya to stick her head out.
“Mmmm...the only way to travel!” Naya said with a purr. “If you don\\\'t mind my saying so, your chest is quite comfortable.”
Annette wanted to say something, but the blood flow to her head put too much pressure on her brain to respond.
- - - - -
“Target has gone underground, sir. She\\\'s taken the subway.”
That bit of news didn\\\'t make the burly man any happier. “What about the Chimera? Has it been recovered?”
“Yes sir. We had to wait while the locals settled a traffic matter. Might I suggest we send the Control Squad instead?”
The man cringed. The Control Squad was indeed efficient, but they had no regard for secrecy. Aquiring their target at any cost was their claim to fame, regardless of the collateral damage they caused along the way.
“We might have to, unfortunately.” Another long sigh. “Check the transit security cameras. She has to get out of there somehow.”
“On it, sir.”
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End of Prologue
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