MEGATOKYO, JAPAN - MAY 2033

     He felt the Immortal approach long before he saw him, of course.  He
ducked into the alleyway behind Yoshi's Demise, took his katana out from
beneath his coat, and prepared for combat.  He could hear the sound of
several footsteps coming his way but thought nothing of it.  He thought of
nothing else but the coming battle.
     His opponent entered the alleyway.  Behind him were four large
human-shaped forms, though he couldn't tell if they were humans or boomers
in the gloom of the evening.
     "Well, O'Brien.  Here we are again," his opponent said.
     "Kowalski," Patrick said coldly.  "You _really_ haven't changed. You
couldn't take down an experienced Immortal fifty years ago, and you can't
take one down now.  You're still nothing but a little punk."
     "Maybe," Kowalski said.  "That's why I've found this loophole in the
Rules."
     It was then that Patrick made out their red eyes and the missing skin
on the cheek of one exposing the metal underneath.  They _were_ boomers,
though disguised as human.  They cocked their automatic weapons, and Patrick
saw no way out.  Perhaps if he talked to Kowalski long enough someone would
come out the service entrance of the bar, effectively stopping the duel.
_Think_, Irelander, he said to himself, _think_.
     "Are you _that_ much of a coward that you need boomers to fight your
battles?" he said.
     "Maybe.  Maybe not.  Maybe I just like hanging around with artificial
life.  Maybe I've got a social disease."
     "Why do _this_?"
     "Because there can be only One?  Because you were an arrogant son of a
bitch forty years ago and now it's payback?  Why don't you decide." 
     Kowalski signaled to the boomers.  They pointed their weapons at
Patrick and opened fire.  He felt his body get riddled with bullets, and he
collapsed in a bloody heap on the ground.  Kowalski signaled for the boomers
to stop, then walked over to him, his sword ready to deliver the fatal blow.
     Wonderful, Patrick thought.  Almost nine centuries of playing the game
by the Rules and with honor blown away by this.  By a two-bit punk who needs
_boomers_ to do his fighting for him, who I had the chance to kill forty
years ago and stupidly spared.  Well, it's been a fun ride.  Goodbye
Rebecca, I love you.   Goodbye Priss, I'm sorry I won't see you develop into
the great Immortal you'll become some day.
     Kowalski had his sword up, about to deliver the fatal blow, when they
both felt the presence of the third Immortal.  They looked around, but
before either saw the newcomer, the head of one of Kowalski's companions
exploded from a skillfully placed knuckle-bomb.  The boomer collapsed in a
pile of metal, plastic, synthetic skin, and fluids.
     "BACK OFF, ASSHOLE!!"
     Patrick glanced up in the direction of the fire escape railing to see
an obviously female figure clad in a blue hardsuit pointing her railgun
directly at Kowalski's head.  There was no doubt in Patrick's mind that
Priss could very easily kill Kowalski by shooting him with the railgun, then
knuckle-bombing his head before he even hit the ground.
     "I mean it, you son of a bitch," Priss said.  "Back off or you'll get
it before you even get his Quickening."
     "Reinforcements?" Kowalski said.  "Really, Irelander, you can't preach
to me about the Rules.  We'll meet again."  He ran off into the darkness,
his three remaining boomers following.
     Patrick leaned against the wall, gripping his chest.  Priss leapt off
of the railing, took her helmet off and knelt down beside him.  "Are you OK,
Teach?"
     "It's almost completely healed, and besides, no Immortal ever died of a
gunshot wound.  I'll live."
     "That bastard.  He's the one responsible for the other boomer related
beheadings.  Nene found out through some computer hacking and told me, so I
came here and..."
     Patrick sat up and back-handed Priss across the face.  
     "What the _hell_?"  She gripped her cheek.  "Have you gone _insane_?  I
just saved your life and _this_ is how you thank me?"
     "_That_ was for breaking the Rules.  _No_ two-on-one!  The Rules aren't
there for Priscilla Asagiri to ignore whenever it suits her!  How many times
do I have to tell you that?  Haven't you been listening to _anything_ I've
been saying?"
     "But..."
     "No buts."
     "Geeze, I'm sorry.  I didn't think..."
     "That's right.  You didn't think."  Patrick sighed and stood.  He
picked up his sword and returned it to its place beneath his coat.  "You
have grown a lot since we first met, but you still don't think."
     Priss stood as well.  "Can I please say something?"
     Patrick nodded.
     "Why was it so wrong for me to come here tonight?  I mean, Kowalski's
breaking Rules left and right, so why are you expected to follow the Rules
to your death?"
     "Because they're all we really have.  Because without honor, what is
there?"
     "Well that's a God damn stupid reason, and believe it or not, the Rules
won't do you any good when you're dead.  You're such a good fighter that
you'll probably never be taken out by anyone who does play by the Rules, but
eventually you _will_ die.  You wanna know how?"
     "I'm sure you'll tell me."
     "Just like that.  Some punk will come along, cheat, and you'll be so
caught up in the God damned Rules that you'll surrender your head rather
than save your own life, and no one will be around to save your ass.  I
mean, you hold everyone else up to a standard of honor, that's _dead_ and
when someone violates it, you're helpless." 
     "Funny, that's almost the exact same thing I said to Ammamoto before he
died."
     "And how _did_ he die?"
     Patrick paused.  "A mortal and an Immortal were working together.  The
mortal shot him in the chest, then the Immortal took his head."
     "And you haven't learned _anything_ from that?  Methos was right.  You
really _are_ an old man."
     Patrick opened his mouth to respond, but instead changed the subject.
"We have to think of how we can take Kowalski out.  This has gone on long
enough."
     Priss smiled to herself, knowing she had hit a nerve, and hoping that
perhaps now he'd take the blinders off.  "I think we should play his game,
since yours doesn't work."
     "What do you mean?"
     "Well, the Knight Sabers can take care of the boomers."
     "Is that such a good idea?  If we drag them into this..."
     "What other choice do we have?  We don't want the AD Police involved
for obvious reasons, and _you_ sure as hell can't take on three boomers and
an Immortal on your own.  Besides, discretion is part of the Knight Sabers'
service."
     "Are you saying I should _hire_ you?"
     "Absolutely.  And Patrick..?"
     Patrick noticed Priss' sudden change in mood.  Although he hadn't known
her for long, he knew her well enough now, especially after the meeting in
Yokohama cemetery, to be able to tell that her use of his name instead of
"Teach" meant she was being deadly serious.  "Yes?"
     "Let me take Kowalski out."
     "How?  Remember what I said about your hardsuit."
     "I'll take it off before I fight him.  This means a _lot_ to me."
     There was no doubt in Patrick's mind that Priss could beat him. Dispite
her less-than stellar showing with Li Chin, she was already good.  Kowalski
wasn't any kind of fighter.  Her sparring with Methos in the time they were
apart had helped, and her extensive sword training over the last month,
coupled with her Knight Saber skills and raw natural fighting ability, would
make her one of the best in a very short time, so long as she kept her
fights clean.  "All right.  But if you try anything underhanded, I'm
stopping you."
     "Underhanded?"
     "Uh huh."
     "Teach, remember what I said yesterday, From now on, I'm gonna be one
of the good guys!"
     Patrick smiled.  "By the way, Priss, thanks for saving my life."

     Linna sat on the hood of her car hoping against hope that Priss had
gotten the message in time.  When a car pulled into the breakdown lane
behind hers, she stood up, smiling as the figure got out of the driver's side.
     Then she saw that it was Sylia and grimaced.
     "Do you need a ride?"
     "How did you find me?"
     "Priss, actually.  Can we talk?"
     Linna slid into the passenger seat.  "I guess so."
     Sylia got into the car and pulled it away from Linna's.  "I called Dr.
Raven.  He'll have a tow down here within an hour." 
     "Thanks."
     Both women rode in silence for the first few miles of the trip back to
the city.  Finally Linna couldn't take it anymore and said, "Priss told you
where I was?"
     "Yes.  She and I had a discussion."
     "About what?"
     "I think perhaps you and I should talk first.  I'm very aware that this
is the second time you've quit the Knight Sabers in as many weeks.  May I
ask why?"
     Linna shrugged.  She owed Sylia a lot, and if things were to ever get
back to the way they were, she at least owed it to her to tell her what was
on her mind.  "When Priss died, I felt as if we weren't given enough time to
mourn.  I would have done the same if it were Nene, or even Mackie.  You
weren't going to even give _yourself_ time to mourn."
     "In my own way," Sylia said, "I was."  She didn't mention how her
control broke down and reduced her to a sobbing little girl.  "But your
point is well taken."
     "Is it?  Sylia, this isn't an army battalion where there's hundreds of
men and women, and new soldiers are shipped in instantly to replace the dead
ones.  We're only four.  I know originally you didn't want us to be friends
outside of the organization, but..."
     "But dispite the original Knight Saber codes, you three have grown
quite fond of each other.  These things happen."  What Patrick said when
Priss first became Immortal, seemingly ages ago now, came back to her.  Some
of the best friendships ever forged happen in foxholes, a lot of the times
with people who have absolutely nothing in common, who wouldn't have even
thought of meeting each other in peacetime.  You really get to know a person
when you're facing death with them each day.
     Sylia had heard of "foxhole friendships" before Patrick had mentioned
it to her, of course, however she had never thought of the Knight Sabers
that way.  But if it wasn't a war they were fighting, then what was it?
There was little fundamental difference between four women in body armor
fighting back the encroachment of GENOM upon the world and four men in a
trench fighting back the encroaching enemy.  Only the hardware and tactics
had changed.  Nothing really important had.  It was still the human spirit
verses innumerable odds.
     "No Linna, it _is_ exactly like an army battalion.  Friendships forged
in battle are often the strongest.  You three will be friends long after the
Knight Sabers disband.  I was wrong, and I apologize."
     Linna didn't know what to think.  Sylia admitting she was wrong?  She
was at a loss for words.
     "Now," Sylia continued, "about that second time."
     Grateful to be back on more familiar footing, Linna said, "I didn't
think it was fair to fire Priss, that's all."
     "But Priss had taken a risk and..."
     "I know.  _Believe_ me, I wanted to fire Priss myself after that first
incident.  She was completely out of control, and seeming to fight her own
battle without regard for the rest of us.  I agree that any team is only as
strong as its weakest member, that's why Nene is responsible for our
defense, you for tactics, and Priss and I for the muscle.  It would be
foolish for Priss to do Nene's job, or Nene to do mine, or you to do Priss'.
You've put us where we're strongest.  And it's also true that we do best
what we like to do.  Priss _likes_ to attack head-on.  I _like_ to attack
with more finesse.  And that second incident, we had all fallen back into
our old routines."
     "But you forget that Priss took herself out of the routine."
     "No I hadn't forgotten that.  And thinking it over and going through
the scene in my head so _many_ times, I'm convinced that if I were the
Immortal, I would have done the same thing Priss did.  It was a simple gut
reflex.  Priss knew there was a good chance that boomer would have killed
Nene, but that if she got between them Nene would be safe.  And frankly,
Sylia, it makes _me_ feel a hell of a lot safer about this whole thing
knowing that no matter how much we get kicked around, no matter how bad the
damage, at least one of us will _always_ live to fight another day."
     "I see."  Sylia hadn't seen it that way.  All she saw was, like Linna
said, the tactics of the situation.  From the pure tactical standpoint,
Priss temporarily dying meant one less Knight Saber in a given incident.
One less Knight Saber meant their line was that much weaker.  She had seen
Priss saving Nene as a rash action only.  She hadn't looked at the emotions
behind it at all.  Once again, foxhole friendships.  Taking a bullet for
your buddy.  Saving your fellow soldiers' lives because it is within your
power to do so.  Protecting their lives with your own.  Priss knew deep in
her gut that the three of them may not have been there in time to save Nene,
and she reacted the way she _always_ reacted, not rash, but passionately,
emotionally, and with her entire being.  From the emotional standpoint,
Priss temporarily dying meant Nene survived that incident.  And perhaps that
was partly Priss' job now, a kind of guardian for the other Knight Sabers.
Insuring they _all_ live and grow stronger to fight another day. 
     Linna broke into Sylia's thoughts.  "And do you _really_ know what
she's going through?"
     "What do you mean?"
     "Did she tell you?  About the... _price_ of Immortality?"
     Sylia nodded.  "Having to fight, literally, the battle between good and
evil, being awarded all the power of all the Immortals, and determine
Mankind's destiny forever."
     "It's just too much, especially after all she's been through.  Living
forever is humanity's dream.  But at that high a price, no thanks.  I do not
envy her one bit."
     "Linna, I want to thank you."
     "For what?"
     "For forcing me to think.  I reinstated Priss this afternoon, but was
still uneasy about it.  You made me look at her situation in a different
light.  For what she's being thrust into, I'd say she's holding up extremely
well.  She has a lot on her shoulders right now, and I think she needs her
friends, _all_ of us, more than ever."
     "I agree."
     "Are you still out of the Knight Sabers?"
     Linna smiled.  "No.  If you promise that things will be like they were,
I won't quit."
     Sylia was serious.  "Things will _never_ be the same.  But I think
they'll be better than they have been lately."

     "Come in."
     Kowalski entered his office and bowed.
     "What have you to report?  I hope O'Brien is dead."
     "N-no."
     "I hope there is a _very_ good reason for this delay."
     "Asagiri showed up in her hardsuit and destroyed one of the boomers."
     "The element of surprise is gone now, Kowalski.  O'Brien will be
prepared for you, and he'll probably have the Knight Sabers with him.  I
knew this day would come."  He pressed a button on his desk.
     "Yes sir?" came a female voice.
     "Come into my office."
     A few seconds later, Annie Devlin entered.  "Sir?"
     "Show Matilda to Kowalski."
     "Matilda?  But sir, Matilda is so secret that only you, the scientist
working on it, and I know about it.  Are you sure you want _him_ to have
access to it?"
     "It is time to use it."
     Annie nodded.  "Very well, sir.  Come on, Kowalski."
     He watched the two Immortals leave his office.  This was bad.  Kowalski
was not much of a swordsman, and the only way to defeat the combination of
O'Brien _and_ the Knight Sabers was to reveal Matilda and entrust it to
Kowalski.  It was risky, true, but he didn't rise to the position of
chairman of the most powerful political and economic entity the world had
ever seen by playing it safe. 
     Quincy got up from behind his desk and walked over to the windows that
overlooked the city he owned in a world he possessed.  Up until now, all had
fallen into place so neatly that this fiasco actually took him by surprise.
But no matter, Matilda would enable Kowalski to deal with the Knight Sabers
first and O'Brien second.  But Madigan was right to question the wisdom of
giving it to Kowalski.  Putting aside her contempt for him and her annoyance
at his insistence on calling her by her original name, Annie Devlin, making
Matilda public was risky at best and disastrous at worst.  Should Kowalski
fail, he would publicly disown all knowledge of his actions and would state
that he was working on his own.  GENOM's hands must be kept clean. 

     They descended deep into the bowels of the GENOM tower, into a
little-used laboratory floor in one of the multiple basement levels.  Annie
slid her ID card through a reader and directed Kowalski to follow.  "What
you're about see here is top secret.  Should this leak to the press _I'll_
take your fool head."  
     They entered a small laboratory.  There was a short, round
scientist-type hovering over something in a case.  He looked up.  "Oh, Miss
Madigan.  The Chairman told me you were coming.  I can't tell you how
excited I am to unveil Matilda."
     "Don't bother with the small-talk, Dr. Kawachi.  Let's just have a look
at it.  _He's_ going to use it."  She pointed at Kowalski.
     "Right."  Kawachi stepped away from the case.  "Meet Matilda."
     "It's a hardsuit!" Kowalski said, stunned.  It was yellow, as sleek as
the Knight Sabers models, and from what he could see, was outfitted with at
least a knuckle-bomber and railgun, most likely a lot more as well.
     "That's right," Kawachi said.  "Matilda is the code name of GENOM's
top-secret hardsuit project."
     "But I thought GENOM stopped research on hardsuits years ago." 
     "That," Annie said, "was before the Knight Sabers.  Granted, the
Chairman sees their actions as non-threatening, but work on Matilda began so
that in the event they _did_ become a threat, we could deal with them
swiftly and on their own level."
     "That's where Mason failed," Kawachi said.
     Annie nodded.  "If Mason had come to me when the Knight Sabers decided
to confront him, I would have given him Matilda, and at least he would have
had a chance.  After his death last year, we accelerated Matilda's
development.  Dr. Kawachi, we need to outfit it with a vibro-blade, and he
needs a softsuit." 
     " I've got a general softsuit that I began designing from Kowalski's
personnel records.  Once I take his measurements, I can finish it. The
Chairman already called and told me Kowalski would be taking this out for
headhunting."
     Annie nodded again.  "But you didn't hear that from me _or_ the
Chairman.  Our names _have_ to be kept out of this."

     Methos watched the goings-on from his monitor, thanking the stars that
his position in GENOM had rated him a high security clearance.  Quincy saw
Adam Pierson as a weakling and a coward, someone who'd _never_ betray him,
and thus tossed him scraps like a dog.  Scraps such as enough of a security
clearance to grant him access to almost every part of the GENOM tower.  And
he was partly right.  Methos was an extremely careful survivor, who knew
when to fight and when to give in.  But Quincy did not know that Methos
rarely *gave up*.  Through his security clearance, he had obtained floor
plans for each level of the Tower.  Several basement levels were labeled
"restricted" so, using a skill taught to him by an Immortal named Amanda, he
managed to gain himself access and installed unseen and unknown surveillance
gear in each of these areas.  GENOM's security was extremely tight, but as
with any large organization, there were holes, small ones, but there
nonetheless.  You just had to look for them.  One didn't live for over five
thousand years without picking up a trick or two along the way.  One of
these small unknown holes had enabled him to secretly monitor and record the
entire exchange between Kowalski and Annie "Kate Madigan" Devlin in the
secret laboratory.  He coded everything onto a disk, stuck it in his pocket,
and left for the day.  Tomorrow would be interesting, to say the least. 

     "Leon, phone for you."
     "If it's a guy I'm busy.  It's too early in the morning for this."
     "He says it's important.  Says its about the headhunter."
     Leon glanced at Daily and across the squad room at Todo.  Todo got up
and walked over to Leon's desk.  He pulled up a chair and sat at the edge of
the desk between the two partners.  "Even after we gave Upstairs the name,
today they told us Kowalski was untouchable.  They said that because Smythe
fell behind a car and we didn't actually _see_ Kowalski behead him, we don't
have enough proof to arrest him.  Be very, _very_ careful about this, Leon." 
     "Gotcha."  Leon picked up the phone.  "Inspector McNichol."
     An electronically altered voice said, "Do you want enough evidence to
arrest Kowalski?"
     "Who is this?"
     "Your benefactor.  You shot me in the leg, remember?"
     Leon snapped to Daily.  Daily understood the signal to place a trace on
the call.  He got up and ran over to Nene's desk.  Her fingers flew over her
keyboard in an effort to trace the call. 
     "Yeah," Leon said.  It was an absolute must to keep the subject on the
phone until Nene was done.  "So, how is the leg?"
     "I'll live."
     "You've got something for me?"
     "Meet me in the fault near the edge of the old main highway at 7:46
tonight.  Alone."
     "7:46?  Isn't that an odd time?"
     "Do you want the information or not?"
     "That depends.  That last piece..."
     "Just be there."
     "GOT IT!" came Nene's voice.  She immediately placed the call to the
regular police to grab the caller.
     "Damn," Leon said.  "He hung up."  He walked over to Nene's desk.
"Where was he?"
     "A pay phone downtown.  Regular police are there now..."  She paused
and listened to the voices in her headset.  "OH!  They missed him!  No one's
at the pay phone."
     "What're you gonna do?" Daily said.
     "What he said.  Go into the fault at 7:46 and see if he's for real.  In
the meantime, Nene, tell the regular police to see if he left anything."

     The informant was too good.  Nothing, not even a stray fingerprint, had
been left behind.  So Leon and Daily fell back onto their original plan.
They scouted the fault area a full hour before the meeting.  The fault had
formed only recently, by geological standards.  It opened up during the
Earthquake and ran from the bay through the center of old Tokyo.  At its
edges were old, twisted buildings and broken roadways.  The old main highway
had collapsed into it at one edge leaving a cliff of roadway and cabling.
However, with the lack of usable land area, many big companies had chosen to
put their factories and dumping grounds inside of it.  Leon didn't think
that was a very wise idea.
     Daily drove the car off of the Gulfway off-ramp and into the fault.
Leon opened the passenger door and got out.  "If I'm not back in fifteen
minutes, I'm not coming back.  Don't bother looking for me, 'cause I'm sure
you'll _never_ find me."
     "Gotcha."
     Leon closed the door and checked his gun, making sure it was fully
loaded, before proceeding.  He held it at his side, rather than
re-holstering it.  If this man was actually dangerous, or if this was a
trap, he wanted to be prepared.  He checked his watch.
     7:44.
     It would take him approximately two minutes to reach the ruins of the
old main highway.  Perfect.

     7:46.
     "That's far enough," came a British-accented voice.  
     Leon pointed his gun in the direction of the voice and saw a man
wearing a trench coat standing in the shadows.  Aside from the trench coat
and that his voice was male and British, Leon couldn't make any other
details out.
     "I thought it was odd that you wanted to meet at such a weird time
until I checked the almanac for today," Leon said.  "7:46 is the time when
exactly half of the fault would be submerged in shadows, yet the other half
would still be lit by the sun."
     "I can see you, but you can't see me.  Don't worry about how the tape
you're making is coming out.  It won't.  I'm jamming your signals to your
partner, not only for my safety, but for yours as well.  If anyone overheard
our conversation, both our lives would end about thirty seconds after
leaving this place."
     "I see.  Who are you?"
     "That's not important.  Behind the pylon to your left is another video
disk."
     Leon, not taking his eyes nor his gun off of the shadowed figure, edged
over to the twisted pylon.  He found the disk and picked it up.  "What's on
here?  Soaps?  No, lemme guess again.  Bad American sitcoms.  No?  Some
classic Captain Harlock?"
     "Look, I know that the last thing I gave you wasn't much..." 
     "No, it was _more_ than enough under normal circumstances..."
     "But these aren't normal circumstances.  Maybe you won't change the
world overnight, but at least you can keep an eye on some of the major players."
     Leon looked at the disk.  "So what is on here?"
     "A conversation that implicates three higher-ups in the GENOM
organization in the boomer headhunter team murders."
     "GENOM?"  Leon wasn't really surprised to find out that GENOM was
behind it all.  It made a hell of a lot more sense then it did ten seconds
ago.  "Who are the higher-ups?"
     "An aide named Stephen Kowalski, head of security Kate Madigan, and
Chairman Quincy himself."
     "This goes _that_ far?"
     "I'm afraid so."
     The sun was setting steadily now.  Leon's side of the fault was
beginning to succumb to the encroaching shadows.  But the shadows in his
brain, in the whole investigation, were dissipating.  
     Things were getting interesting.
     "I've already said too much," the figure said.  "But there's an address
on that disk.  I wouldn't put it past GENOM to have your apartment building
bugged, and I'm almost positive that the AD Police building is bugged as
well.  Go to the address and ask for a man named Dawson.  Show him the
symbol drawn on the disk and he'll help you.  Be sure you go alone, not even
with your partner."  He turned. 
     "Wait!"
     But the figure had already left.

     "Are you Dawson?"
     "Who wants to know?"
     Leon flashed his badge.  "Inspector Leon McNichol, AD Police.  An
informant of mine told me you could help us with this."  He showed him the
disk with the curious symbol drawn on it.
     Joe Dawson adjusted his glasses and stared at the Watcher seal drawn on
the label of the disk.  "Sweet Jesus.  Who gave you this?" 
     "I told you, an informant.  I can't give away his identity, and if you
help us, you'll have the same protection as him."
     "I have a good idea who it was.  Come inside."  Joe stood aside and let
Leon in.  Inviting the AD Police into MegaTokyo Watcher Headquarters wasn't
the best idea in the world, but he really didn't have any choice in the
matter.  Methos had obviously sent Leon.
     Leon looked about at the dozens of people bustling about at computers,
carrying printouts, and transporting stacks of books.  That was what
impressed him the most, all the old books.  Hundreds of them on shelves,
with people, and on desks.  
     Joe ushered him into a small room at the end of the main area and
handed the disk to a red-haired girl seated at a computer desk.  "Let's take
a look at this, Nene."
     "_Nene_?!" Leon exclaimed.
     Nene whirled around in her chair and her eyes locked with Leon's.
"L... Leon.  What are you doing here?"
     "I could ask you the same question."
     "Nene is doing research for us," Joe said.  "She needed a little extra
cash."
     "I've heard that excuse before.  I've _used_ that excuse before.  What
is this place?"
     "That's not something you need to know, at least not officially.  Not
even GENOM knows about us."
     "Which is why my informant said I'd be safe here."
     "Right."
     Leon still couldn't get over the fact that Nene was here, amongst all
this secrecy.  Still, he concentrated on the job at hand.  "Let's see what's
on there."
     "OK," Nene said.  She popped the disk in, started her player software,
and clicked on the "play" button.  The conversation between Annie Devlin,
Kowalski and Dr. Kawachi re-played itself on Nene's computer screen. 
     Devlin's presence wasn't lost on Joe Dawson, nor the fact that she was
referred to as "Madigan."  She had disappeared in the 90's and it was
generally assumed that she had died.  Apparently she had lived and rose to
the position of GENOM's head of security.  Perfect job for a former
terrorist.   
     Leon watched as well, knowing two of the three players almost
personally.  He'd had run-ins with Madigan in the past, and Kowalski's face
was now permanently etched into his mind.  The doctor, he didn't know.   
     The doctor said, "The Chairman already called and told me Kowalski
would be taking this out for headhunting."
     Madigan nodded.  "But you didn't hear that from me _or_ the Chairman.
Our names have to be kept out of this."
     The disk ended.  Nene was silent.  Joe ejected it saying, "Why don't I
hold on to this.  You've got a real hot item here, and I'd hate to see it
cause your death."
     Leon didn't know what to think.  This had gotten way too big way too
fast.  It had always been suspected that certain deaths had been ordered by
Chairman Quincy or his immediate underlings, yet there had never been any
absolute proof to bring him in.  Well, here was all the proof he needed, and
he hated it to be let out of his sight.  But what could he really do?  GENOM
had tentacles all over Megatokyo, and the informant had driven home how
unsafe his own home probably was.  He didn't instinctively trust Dawson, or
anyone unknown for that matter.  But Nene was here, and he did trust her.
She'd never involve herself with a pro-GENOM organization.  His only other
option was to risk being gunned down in the street and have the disk taken
from his dead body.  While heroic, it was also foolish.  He nodded.  "Keep it."
     "We'll use Nene as our contact," Dawson said.  "As far as I'm
concerned, you were never here."
     Leon nodded.  "Agreed."

     After Joe ushered Leon out, he went back into Nene's little office.
"Sorry.  I didn't realize you knew him."
     "That's OK."
     He picked up the disk and looked at it again.  "God damn."
     "What?"
     "Do you know what this means?  Quincy _must_ be an Immortal.  Why else
would he be ordering beheadings?"
     "And giving Kowalski a hardsuit to go headhunting... somehow he knows
the Knight Sabers' identities."
     Joe nodded.  "Asagiri will be the next target, obviously.  Damn." 
     "Joe we _have_ to do something."
     "We can't interfere in an Immortal battle, Nene.  You know that."
     "But we can't just let them get away with this.  They _have_ to be
stopped!"  Nene wanted to tell Sylia about all this, but that would mean
telling her, Linna, and Priss about her status with the Watchers.  It would
also mean telling Joe about her membership in the Knight Sabers.  But what
was more important, her secrets or all their lives? 
     But Joe placed a calming hand on her shoulder.  "I have an idea."  He
picked up the phone on Nene's desk and hit the intercom button.  "Get me Fargo."

(continued…)
(c) 1997 Mabnesswords