THE RAZORBACK: ENFANTS PERDUS

Things I hate in this god forsaken world.
Gridlock traffic. People who compulsively scream like castrated dingoes and honk in gridlock traffic, expecting the bloody circulation of vehicles to be accelerated by the loud noise no doubt, hit and run drivers, and child pornographers, sex-traders, snuff movie makers etc... .
When I meet one of those fucking perverts I feel like making me own snuff films, kidnap one of those bastards, gut him, ever so tenderly, four hours and film it. Then I can watch it over and over again during one of those drab Saturday Nights when I'm stuck without a date. Which happens a lot.
Children, teenage girls mostly, had been going missing a lot the past few days. Enough to even alert the people involved in law enforcement, imagine that.
Cynical, me? Noooo, you think so?
Anyway, I hate sex perverts. I hate those who make money with sexual perversion. I have an urge to kill such people.
And since my Dayimo and father figure, Tetsuo, had allowed me to look into that matter, I had every intention of satisfying that urge very quickly. Oh, by the way, me name’s Josie. Aldridge. Born in the land down under. I’m assassin. In Japan. More on that later.
But first, food.
One of the very best restaurants in Osaka was run by Ms Mika Asakume. She looked like the typical delicate oriental flower: She’s about my age, 5'5-with high, high, heels-no more than 105, 110 pounds, long black hair, but always tied in a ponytail. She had opened it a few months ago, but it was already a very popular place. And she was one of the few Japanese
people I knew that didn't treat me like the outsider Aussie bitch that didn't belong in Osaka. For some reason, we had bonded somewhat, and while I wouldn’t call us soul sisters, we had become more than mere acquaintances.
As the evening went on, I noticed that she was concerned with something.
"What is wrong, Mika?" I asked her.
"Oh, nothing, just tired,” She answered.
"You lie very well, not well enough to fool me,”
She smiled, but very briefly. :"A girl that has been under my employ for only a month has been missing for two days. I fear that she's been. . ,”
"Oh, I'm sorry,”
She nodded. :"Thank you. I’m struggling with the idea to do something... I mean, I feel helpless, I've told police, but. . ,”
"It's all right, what else could you have done,”
I saw something in here eyes. For a millisecond they had become cold. Like a killer’s. I figured maybe she was just angry and really wanted some payback. Then, her perfect, delicate features became warm again,” You are right, Josie. What indeed. Enjoy your meal,”
And she gracefully walked away.
All right, then, this had become a bit more personal, I hadn’t needed more motivation to solve this thing, but it didn't hurt to have it. Someone I knew had been affected.
Since my experience in detective work was limited to Watching Columbo-you have not lived until you've seen Columbo dubbed in Japanese-or reruns of Moonlighting-Bruce Willis and the blonde woman who said she slept with Elvis are something as well, when dubbed-I did thing the only way I knew how, brutally. I went to strip bars, porno outlets and such places and said that I was looking for whoever was snatching the children.
I have done that two nights in a row. Of course, no one knew anything, and despite very sincere threats of bodily harm, I had obtained nothing. But that hadn't been my PRIMARY goal. I was merely doing like an old Japanese wisely dictated: “To flush out the snakes, one must beat the grass,” . So I whooped the shit out of the grass.
And on the third night, I got plenty of snakes.
As I was peacefully resting in my bed, a bloke crashed through my bedroom window. How rude. Such a lack of etiquette had earned him three of lovely throwing knives. Two in the chest, one in the throat.
Heavy footsteps in me living room. I rolled out of bed and went in my living room, thankful for having had the good sense to go in low, since the intruders-both of them-were armed with those nasty submachine guns-silenced MP-5-K HK’s-and had I been standing to my full 5'9, I would have been cut down.
Five blades flew out of my hands and two more would be assassins would go make hell a bit more crowded.
Though I do prefer my knives, I am a very practical girl, and I thought this time my 9mm Beretta 92FS would come in handy. And the sleek Ferrari-of-pistols filled my hand.
I stood right next to my door way as two more men rushed, guns blazing. Not very professional. They gave us hit-people a bad name acting like rejects from a Steven Seagal movie as they were-still, they were here to kill me, so I did sort of had to shoot them in the
back of the head once each.
With three throwing knives in one hand, and the Beretta in my other one, I leapt and ducked as I went in the hallway right my apartment.
As expected, there were more. There must have been a quantity discount on these assholes.
One in front of me, one behind. The one behind me took my three blades in the throat, while the other one took two perfectly placed 9mm slugs in he heart.
Then I stopped to think. The whole reason I had beaten the grass and shake the snakes away was so I could have one ALIVE to give me information. Aww, shit. I had killed them all.
Then, gunshots that sounded like the apocalypse, came from the back, the alley where my emergency exits leads to.
Not aimed at me. Which was always good. Leading the way with my nine, I went towards my emergency exit. On the way, screeching tires and then a crashing car. Someone
was being killed. Who? Why?
One my emergency stairs, I saw four bodies, more sub gun armed punks, with very big holed blasted into them. Who had done that favor?
And I saw the crashed car, unless my eyes had deceived me there were ARROWS sticking out of the windshield. ARROWS.
So, Dirty Harry and Robin Hood had come to save my lovely Aussie ass. But-
Hands the size of grizzly paws grabbed me from above-I lived on the top floor apartment, so the grabber was on the roof-grabbing me by the coat and LIFTING me
like I was a toddler, then one hand let go and swatted my Beretta away and I was held in a bear hug, from behind, several inches of the ground by someone big.
Then I was facing a slight, but graceful figure, in a skin tight black out fit, complete with ninja hood, crisscrossing-crossing swords on her back, and holding a bow.
"Stop struggling, Josephine,” the ninja said “You are among friends, now,” And she pulled off her hood.
And If you have guessed it was Mika ASAKUME, Miss delicate oriental flower, mild mannered restaurant owner, you win a new kitchen set.
"Mika! Then tell your big friend to let me go! "
"Forgive me, Miss Aldridge,” A deep, Barry White deep, voice said as the huge arms let go. He’d spoken in flawless Japanese, but still sounded gaijin.
"Oh, my,” I said as I turned around.
"Josephine Aldridge, meet Luther Jones,”
Reports put this man at 6'5" inches tall and 260 pounds. They were not exaggerating. Nearly Jet-black skin. He was dressed in black combat fatigues, and was wearing a long black shin-length leather coat over them. He and very little hair on his head, and was clean shaven. And, I dare say, for a gigantic killing machine, not bad looking.
Seemed I had found my Dirty Harry and Robin Hood.
I wasn't done being shocked. Mika dropped her bow and leapt in Jones arms and laid the biggest, wettest, longest kiss I have seen in a while. And he returned it in full. When they separated:
"I have missed you, love,” She said.
"I have missed you as well, Mika,” Luther said.
Okay, this time your friendly neighbourhood Razorback really needed someone to explain what a delicate ninja-assassin/restaurant owner, and the baddest SOB in the free world were doing making out on her rooftop.

Two.

Since we were all three sort of guilty of holding illegal weapons and of multiple homicides and such things, we decided to leave hastily, to a loft apartment, where Luther Jones had set up shop.
So, it turned out that Mika has been a lethal ninja all her life, or almost, and she had been so to avenge her parents, murdered by Yakuza when she was a child. They had done so, because they refused to sell the restaurant to them so they could make it a brothel and
a casino. So she spent years training in Ninjitsu and she had started exacting revenge in those who had killed her parents. Her payback campaign started in Hawaii and that where she's met Mr. Jones, who was there to kill himself some Yakuza gangsters as well.
They had come back to Japan to finish the job and that part of the story I knew, since crime lords had begin dropping like teenage girls at an N'Sync concert. They have become allies and lovers, but had to separate once Luther left Japan to carry on his war back home in the states.
Mika reopened her parents restaurant and put her vendetta behind and has lived peacefully ever since. Until that girl from her restaurant had been kidnapped. And apparently, the news made it to the US since the Dark Reaper had shown up as well. And both have heard about me rousting the sex traders to investigate this. And knew someone would come after me.
And guess what, Luther has managed to keep one of the blokes alive and had dragged him over to his H. Q. to squeeze for info. Homicidal and thoughtful. I can see why Mika liked him so.
He was hung upside down, from the ceiling, unconscious. Luther solved that with a bucket of ice water. And with the scariest voice I have ever heard-still Barry White, with a Hannibal Lector edge to it, without the accent, just the tone:
"You will die. That is a certainty. Whether that death is quick or slow, is up to you,”
The punk could not have been more than 20. One of those motorcycle riding thugs. Used to mugging and stealing cars, maybe a couple of homicides. No Chow Yun-Fat hard-boiled killer there. No legit yakuza as well.
But he tried to act tough. And clammed. Mika pulled out a long katana. And was wearing the most wicked, evil smile I had ever seen. The tip of her sword went under the man's chin-or over, since he was upside down. And slid across his chest, and up to his
family heritage.
"This man tried to kill you, Josie,” She said,” How about I give you his testicles as a souvenir?"
"Sure. I'll just empty a jar of baby food for them,” I answered. Neither us was joking, nor bluffing.
And wouldn't you know it. The punk sang like a bird. But he hadn't said much. He had no juicy leads, just that the leader of his gang took the job from some big shot honcho. Maybe a yakuza. That was all he knew.
Not much, but better than nothing. Luther snapped the punks neck like a twig and cut his body down.
"I'll get rid of this,” He said,” I'll be back shortly,”
Mika went over to kiss him,” Don't be long, love,”
We smiled and walked, carrying the corpse like a rag doll.
They were really cute together. If you took away all the vengeful, psychotic murdering aspects of their personalities. But, who the hell was I to talk?
"You guys are in love, aren't you?" I asked.
"I guess so,” She said,” We are kindred spirits. Perhaps even soul mates. And he is such a good lover,” She said with a malicious smile.
"Really? How do you mean?"
"He gives everything in the act. Everything. Himself. His body and soul. He has so few opportunities to give love, or even friendship. When he does, he gives everything he has. And he's not as rough as you'd think. He's very attentive. Very caring. He whispers soft, beautiful things... and when his hard mask finally breaks, and you see him, HIM. Not the
warrior or the killer, but him, the man... he's so vulnerable... so absolutely beautiful. And I am fortunate enough to be one of the few women he's made love to,”
"Wow,”
"And you Josie? Have you ever known love?"
I shut my eyes.
"Yes. Once,” I said quietly.
"Oh... I didn't meant to. . ,”
"It's okay,”
And I told her. I told her about the bigots who'd killed my boyfriend back home, because of land disputes and bigotry. My love was an aboriginal boy. And the whole story, about how I grew up on the streets... about how most of my sexual experiences were actually not sexual at all-rape is
not sex. And how I got recruited by a Yakuza lord. Mika looked sad. And related immediately, having had some of the same losses. And maybe it was the stress of the past few hours-people HAD tried to kill me-and the tension, and the fatigue, and thinking of all that again, but I had begun crying softly. And Mika held me, Mika, 7 inches shorter and 30 pounds lighter than me, holding me like a big sister. And
stroking my hair.
It felt good to cry. To be Josie. And not Razor. And to have a shoulder to cry on. Even in font of My Dayimo, I felt had to be strong and hard. Now, I didn't have to.
Then, she got up and made us both some chicken soup-stuff works better than Prozac, I tell you. Mika could be as warm and considerate as she could be deadly.
Luther came back. He had some blood on his clothes.
"Love. . ,” Mika said.
"You okay, big man?" I asked.
"Hm? Oh. It's not my blood,” Luther said,” I spoke to the biker leader gang. Some of his cohorts... objected to my presence,”
"Oh" Mika and I said in unison. Osaka would be short a few bikers for a while.
"What have you found out, Luther?" I asked.
"Whoever hired them, it wasn't a yakuza operation, according to him. The guy he spoke to was a middleman, he was fronting for someone. That was all he knew,”
"You have a description?" Mika asked.
"Yes. A very detailed one at that,” Jones said. And smiled. He had quite a handsome smile. Mika smiled as well. And he went to fetch Mika papers and pencils.
And Luther dictated every single detail, without hesitation. It would seem the big guy had a way with making people talk. Whoever had given him such details really had given all he could. And Mika was drawing, and had come up with several very detailed pictures of a man, apparently in his forties.
"Wow,” I said,” I wish I could draw like that,”
"She's multitalented,” Jones said. And smiled. I didn't figure him for the sort that smiled often. I guess Mika had that effect on him.
"I'll talk to my contacts and see what I can come up with,” I said,” It's late, but I have cop friends who work the graveyard shift. Maybe they can come up with something,”
It looked like we where getting somewhere after all. I had no idea where though. And I would soon find out.

Three.

So, I left the two lovebirds alone. And went to work. Times like these, I felt more like a P. I. than anything else. So, I went and asked around. I’m several precincts across town. And looked through books and books of mug shots and computer files. Nothing. The man was a bloody ghost. Or he was actually a law abiding citizen. Which would explain why he would hire a biker gang to kill people looking into kidnappings. Of course.
So, nothing has come up with that.
I did something I probably shouldn't have. I went back my old place to pick a few things Ammunition for my Beretta, another spare Beretta, spare clothes and of course, extra knives. A girl has to have the right accessories at all times. Of course, I slipped by the police still present at my place, what do you take me for.
Using all of the tricks I knew, I made sure nobody had followed me, and went back to the loft, hoping not to interrupt a romantic interlude between Luther and Mika.
"Josephine,” Mika said, her smile as bright as sunshine. She was drying herself with a towel. The reason I'm not mentioning a robe or a towel around her chest is because she was naked. She had an absolutely flawless body. And moved with absolute grace and ease,” Have you found anything,”
"No. Nobody has heard of this bloke,” I said,” He's not in the books,”
Luther came out of a room. He seemed freshly bathed as well. He was fully dressed though. Unfortunately. Black combat boots, pants and a black T-shirt. Both freshly bathed. "What have you naughty kids done while I was out there chasing leads?" I said.
Mika laughed. Luther grinned. While putting holsters. A shoulder one for twin 45 acp Glock 21s. A hip one for that monster 50AE Desert Eagle. Two more Glocks behind his back. Spare magazines in pockets and pouches. Also, I noticed a table covered with all
sorts of guns and ammo.
"All right,” Luther said,” I suggest we rest now. We'll continue tomorrow,”
"You are not dressed to sleep, Luther,” I noted.
"Yes, I am,” He said.
"Oh,” I said.
Meanwhile, Mika was making herself marginally more decent in a black sports bra and panties. Luther sat down in a chair, facing the windows. Mika went over to him.
"Will you be coming to bed, love?" she asked.
"Later, Mika,” She bent down and kissed him. And as she left, she stroked his face, gently, slowly. And he kissed her had as it slid away.
"Good night, Josephine,” She said.
"Good night. Thanks for saving my but earlier tonight,”
Mika just smiled as she gilded to her bedroom.
Luther pulled out the two pistols behind his back and held them.
"How can you rest and be tense?" I asked.
"I'm not tense, I'm ready,” He answered.
"You seem happy with her,” I said.
He said nothing. And sighed softly.
"You'll leave her again, won't you?" I asked.
Still silence.
"Because you have to go back to the states and keep waging your war. And not be attached to anyone. Because you can't afford to. For them and for you,”
Silence. He wasn't ignoring me. In a way, he was answering.
"I can understand that. A heavy price to pay. But you are lucky to have someone like that. You should cherish that and what you have together. You are good for her. And she's good for you. I can tell,”
He just sat there, brooding. He agreed with what I was saying. But for some reason, he would disregard it all, and sacrifice his feelings. And his happiness.
"Josie,” He said.
"Yeah?" I said.
"Has anyone followed you?" he asked, getting up. Putting his guns in the small of his back. He picked up an M-16/M-203 combo, with a 100 round drum mag.
"I-I was careful,” I said. But, I wasn't so sure, suddenly.
"Catch,” He said tossing me an HK MP-5 subgun. And a bandolier of magazines.
"Mika! "Luther shouted. Slinging a USAS 12-gauge shotgun on a shoulder.
"Nobody has followed me. I know it! " I said.
"You would have spotted cops, or thugs. Or professionals. But not these,” Luther said.
"Who? How did you spot-"
"Reflection of the moonlight. Not a scope. Or else the shooting would have started,”
Mika came out, in her undies, her swords criss-crossing on her back. With several pouches.
"What is it?" Mika asked.
"Trouble,” Luther said.
Mika unsheathed her swords. And in the dead of night, I thought I heard-
"Footsteps on the roof,” Mika said.
"But nobody followed me,” I said.
"If you didn't see them, and they haven't started shooting. That can only mean-"Luther said.
Then figures, about a dozen of them crashed through the windows. No wonder I hadn't spotted them.
NINJA.
"Down! "Luther said as he armed his grenade launcher and fired a grenade at the cluster of the ninja squad. It went off like thunder inside. I didn't see how many died, because the skylight was crashed and the were pouring in. I fired upwards. Feeling the hammering of the buzz gun against me. I HATED these, but against these kinds of odds, I would make an exception. Some of the ninja assassins were hitting the ground, dead on impact. The Sentencer was cutting lose with his rifle.
Mika, she had a hands on approach to all this. She leapt at the ninja who had survived my fire, her steel cutting through fabric, flesh and bone, lobbing off limbs and heads. More were coming through the skylight. It was like a human tidal wave. A swarm.
Soon, I was empty, no time to reload, I grabbed by twin Berettas. I will spare you another John Woo reference. I was pretty bloody fast, for a non ninja and I was taking them down, scoring, row or three hits per ninja and so was Luther and Mika was hacking them up, a human meat grinder. Her swords moving as fast as helicopter rotors almost, blocking other swords, disembowelling, decapitating, dismembering.
I could hear the boom-boom-boom of Luther's auto shotgun, blasting more of them into hamburger. But more were coming in, through the skylight, the windows... There was no stopping the invasion.
Soon, I was of bullets for the Beretta. Down to my favourite tools, now. And blades flew out of my hands by the handful.
Everything was blood and guts and rage, I had never seen death and slaughter at this scale, the bodies were piling up, like I had never seen. This was carnage. This was genocide.
This is what I was born for. To hunt. To kill. A wildcat, unleashed at last, no restraint. Years of rage exploding. The ninja were wearing the faces of those who had killed my loved ones at home. And I would kill them all. Bastards. BASTARDS.
"BAASTAAAAARDS! "I bellowed as my righteous fury was annihilating these evil fuckers. Fuck Xena. I was the big, bad motherfucking Warrior Princess.
My scream must have inspired Mika. She was letting out some blood curling "Hiyas! ". Luther, still shooting, but down his Glocks though, looked like he was doing his taxes. Like he did this all the time. Which he probably did. He moved, leapt, rolled dodged like a man half his size. He was magnificent in combat.
When I was out of knives, I grabbed some of the dead men's shuriken and used it on them, moving, never giving them a steady target.
Somewhere amidst the insanity, I could hear Luther's big 50 blasting away. Mika was still grinding meat. When I saw her, she was in a sword fight with five ninja at once, blocking each and every strike. And soon, killing them all.
Then Luther was out of ammo. But I saw him pick up TWO of the dead men's katanas and he started the meat grinding as well. He was as good and as fast as Mika. Blocking, striking, chopping. Ha. Blade was a BITCH. A PUSSY! GO LUTHER!
I was still throwing shuriken. Throwing shiny pointy things was an art And I was fuckng Michael Angelo and the other Ninja Turtles.
And then, it was over.
We were walking on top of heaps of corpses. And it was over. I'm sorry, folks, couldn't count who many there were. It was more than a shitload, I'll tell you that much.
We all stood, panting, bleeding, or covered with blood. And victorious.
Luther threw his swords. And said.
"Somebody REALLY does not want us to look into the kidnappings,”
"It would seem so, love,” Mika said.
"Sorry, guys,” I said.
"These were ninja,” Mika said,” Trained to be as quiet as smoke, and become shadows. Nobody could have seen them,”
"We should move our base of operations, and figure out our next move there,” Luther said.
"You're right,” I said,” My next moves will washing off the blood and sleeping. And figuring out a why to find the fucker that sent these fuckers and fucking feed him his own fucking privates,”
"Well put,” Luther said.