2013.08.17 - Mousetrap, Part 3

It hasn't been that long since Mister Cheng went down with his private jet out in an empty Ohio field. In fact, Domino's willing to bet that it's been just the right amount of time before she kicks off the final phase of her plan which came together in all of thirty seconds after Kurt had bamfed himself inside of that doomed airliner.

It doesn't have to involve Kurt, and yet... He crossed a line that day. A very firm line that he had set for himself many years ago. It was because of her that he crossed that line. Now her plan takes him into consideration (partly because she doesn't feel like flying all the way out to Japan and back for a three hour operation.) The trick here is to include him without including him. Just enough for him to feel that he's there for her should she need the assistance without knowing what it is that she's about to get herself in the middle of.

Once they've made a several teleport hop all the way out to Japan she makes her first play of several tonight, shedding the familiar weight of her trench and setting it aside. She happens to know of a place not too far away that will serve as a temporary landing point for them both, too.

"Here's the deal," she starts in, unholstering a Thompson Center single shot pistol from her thigh and breaking open the action. Inside is a single 5.56 NATO round, the tip colored red. "Flareguns are too obvious, people only carry them if they're planning on needing help. I won't ask much more of you at this point but if you see this thing hitting the sky straight up, that's your cue to come in and get me the hell outta Dodge."

The simplified pistol is locked closed and reholstered as she continues, "I'm hoping it won't be necessary. I'm only here to share some words. But, better safe than sorry. Can you do this for me?"

Days and nights since that day. Since -that- argument.

For some strange reason, Kurt feels closer and more estranged from his friend since. The little things. Time.. everything takes time to process since he's revealed that he, indeed, is capable of the biggest mortal sin. Mitigated only by the fact that Cheng was a bad man. Does that make him a hypocrite?

Not something Kurt really wants to linger upon. This trip, however, is chock full of things to remind him of that action. But! The one thing he's wanted for some time does come to pass.

Domino asking for his presence to finish up this Japan trip.

"So, it's several bamfs out and over the Pacific, landing once on dry land on some nice, tropical islands before the next leg of the trip.

Finally, as the pair finally land, and get themselves situated, it's evening. Kurt's time of the day!

Now, the blue bamfer is plastered against a wall, hands and feet easily sticking him there, his tail set out to the side. "Ja," he repeats. "If I see it, to bamf in und come get you." He pauses, and cants his head, those featureless golden eyes watching her as he asks, "Sharing some words. Is that a euphemism, liebling, for 'I'm going to try not to kill everyone, but no promises'?"

Domino pauses for a moment while getting all of her gear situated. It would appear that she's traveling a little lighter than usual, mostly in that she doesn't have anything obviously explosive strapped about her person this time. Pale blue eyes meet glowing yellow eyes, her expression momentarily blank. "No, I mean really just talk to them. If they want to take it as an act of war then they'd best be prepared to drag a lot of their buddies off the front line, but I'm hoping not to pull a single trigger. If I do then the situation is beyond hope."

With that said she quickly inclines her head a few degrees, that spiky mop of hair briefly rearranging itself atop her head. It's both an acknowledgement and a goodbye rolled into one. "Eyes on the northeastern sky, about two klicks out. Tracer or phone, I'll contact you soon."

(Well, there's that piece of business sorted out. Now things get interesting.)

The lone albino travels by foot, keeping to the shadows for cover without the benefit of her coat for concealment. It's taken a little work on her end, pulling strings, calling in favors, the usual song and dance. Fortunately, she happens to know some people that are even less interested in there being a war between factions across international lines. All it required was finding the right people to lean on, just enough, to get her answer.

That's why she's out here, wandering into a small mountainous village in a secluded corner of Japan. That's why she takes slow and deliberate steps with her hands kept open and held out slightly to her sides. She's walking right into the middle of The Hand's territory.

They would see her before she sees them.

Kurt watches her, studies her before he nods his head slowly. "I could still-" but nope. He's given his marching orders, as it were, and it's time for the blue bamfer to head to the roof and act as a sentry, protecting his friend. "Promise me you will call if you are truly in danger, liebling," is spoken at her back. He doesn't expect a response, however.

Bamf!

To the rooftops.

The mountain village is like stepping back into time. One would almost expect ricshaws and donkey carts rather than beat-up, early model cars. The villagers, who are very much like peasants in modern clothes, are mostly indoors, though some are out and hanging wash in the night's air.

Crickets chirp. Frogs sing the song of love.

And human eyes are upon her.

It does take a little time. Could be because word travels slowly (Nah!) but could also be that technique of always letting the opposition know that their business isn't necessarily as high on their list as perhaps it is for them.

Contact is made, however, in the form of two Japanese men in dark business suits; something in direct conflict with the 'traditional-looking' surroundings. They walk down the road, dark, almond eyes cast out before them, and their gazes are locked upon the albino. Soon enough, they stop in their tracks. Each puts a hand up; a signal to have her stop in her tracks before she got any farther? Closer?

"We know who you are."

No poisoned arrows in the back. No katanas in the ribs. So far, so good. Domino knows she's far from alone out here, however. The back of her shoulders is alight, every nerve in her body a livewire barely restrained. She's at the far end of more sights than she'll ever know. Her power wants to take over, to drive her straight into the flux. This entire situation remains a hair trigger's pull away from turning into an all-out disaster.

Now is not the time to lose her cool or have second thoughts.

When the hand comes up from the direction of the other two she halts in her next step, hands carefully drifting back to her sides. Nothing to see here, just a friendly conversation out in the street.

"I am fairly unique in that regard," she replies as though it were of no consequence at all. "Though, I'm willing to bet that you have no idea why I'm here. Give me five minutes and we'll all have a more prosperous evening."

Or so she hopes. Here's the next big gamble of the evening.

Nope. No poisoned darts. No swords to the ribs. No one lining up a shot from a couple of miles aw-- oh, maybe that is the case!

A conversation in the street is safe. And in this little village where families have lived for generations? There is really noplace safer. For either camp.

"We heard the news." How could word not have travelled? "And we reject the idea that you are now the voice for China."

The silent Japanese man chimes in, "But thank you for handing it over to us. We have begun to move our business concerns. Shanghai is fascinating."

"It goes a little further than that," Domino continues while the odds of her success are subconsciously recalculated. (Just how much do these guys already know? Hell, I had better not have waited too long on making my move.)

"I never was the voice of China. I was a pawn to another man's game, one that intended to use me in order to ignite a war between the Triads and the Hand. This isn't a role I want to play, and I'm pretty sure that the rest of you don't fancy having another bloodbath on your hands." (Hopefully that part's true. Now to ramp it up another notch.)

"There is no honor in what this man was trying to accomplish. I'm here to clear my name and to give you the name of the one that is behind it all."

If nothing else can be said for the men, they are willing to listen. Their feelings on the matter, however, is hard to see thanks to the shadows of the night, and the inscrutibility of the Asian businessman. Oh.. and their general scorn for anyone female.

The first that spoke now chuckles, and shows some measure of emotion. Amusement. "Of course you were. Cheng was good, but he was stupid. The moment he placed personal in front of business was the beginning of the end." Inclining his head, that smile remains, but it's almost a mocking one. "And like all good emotional men, a woman brought him down."

The pair pause in their words as business of the evening is conducted down past another corner. A young couple out, sneaking as if no one in the world can see them, and they are completely alone in the world.. their eyes only for each other. The second man turns his head to watch, and dark eyes narrow for a moment before his attention returns. "We were to understand you were a gift as the beginning of negotiation." In case Cheng didn't fill her in.

'Negotiation' is such a polite word.

"You are correct, however. The easier the transition of power, the better it is for everyone concerned."

Though, the potential of a name of one deeper in the Triad organization? Or in Cheng's? It's a carrot dangled.. and the pair look to each other, conversing rapidly in Japanese as if the albino has no concept of their words. (Who knows?)

Finally, after a moment's discussion, a decision seems to be raised. "You will come with us. In the interest of the peaceful mission you say you are on, you will not mind setting your weapons outside our rooms."

Not really waiting for a response of either 'yes' or 'no', the pair turn about, separate, and wait for Domino's presence between them, serving as escort.

(Shit, they know about Cheng. Shit, he had to drop the gender card. Shit, he had been planning to hand me over to these guys? There go my odds.)

Domino doesn't have any idea what's being said when they switch languages. It's perhaps for the better as she needs time to think, and to think quickly. Xao Cheng was the name that she had to offer. They already know about him. She has no fallback plan other than to shoot first and ditch this place faster than a bad habit.

She's in too far to back out now. There's still a chance that she can pull a miracle out of this impending disaster. One in a million odds are her specialty, after all. When their 'offer' is given she lifts her head slightly, knowing without a doubt that this is going to get a lot more ugly before it gets any better.

"Of course."

(X-Gene, don't fail me now.)

Of course.

Two fateful words. As the trio walk, then, it's another couple of blocks that are travelled, over a hill, just stopping before the dale- and there certainly is no river to pass over. Small talk isn't truly necessary, but it's the best way to gain information. Particularly when reasons and meanings are couched in casual words.

Or not so casual.

"We've been watching this little play, you know. Watching and waiting, wondering who was going to come out on top. I'm sad that I lost a great deal of money over it. Airplane crashing wasn't on the list. Gunshot to the head. Knife. Even poison."

Ah well. At least he's in good humour over it?

Stopping at a door, the other of her escorts turns about to look at their 'guest', and waits only a couple of heartbeats before he makes his request official, in the form of a single word. "Guns."

"I'm just a woman. I had to improvise."

If these guys think they're going to get anything more than sarcasm out of Domino then they obviously don't know who they're dealing with.

What passes for smalltalk does nothing to put her nerves at ease. This was supposed to be a simple op, in and out and back in time for coffee. There's barely anything to go wrong, she deliberately kept it nice and simple.

Not that she didn't have some exit strategies in place. Kurt isn't the only path of retreat she left for herself. Much like laying her guns out upon the table her OCD side loves to have a hand in her professional work. Plan A all the way through Plan Q. She has exits, she knows where to go for weapons, where to go to disappear, where to avoid, where to dive for cover against long range attacks. She's mapped out as much of the topography as she could get her hands on.

The only thing that happened to get glossed over is what she has to offer. When it comes down to it, there's only so much for her to work with. There is no giant list full of useful scraps of data that she could run down until something happened to stick.

There's only three options. Cheng's off the board. Fury's still in the game. It would serve that ornery old bastard right for dragging her into that mess in China to begin with.

On the outside she remains perfectly stoic, though every word that happens to be shared is remembered. Such as that one simple instruction. One word, four letters.

Guns.

Three pistols end up on the table, perfectly organized to within half a millimeter of where she'd like them to be.

They never said anything about knives.

Of course, assumptions are made. Cheng must have taken her weapons away. After all, who doesn't know Domino to be good with her guns?

Perhaps someone has done their job too, because as she lays her guns down on the table, one of the men reaches out to move them from the position in which they're put. It could be they're trying to put her on edge, or it could be that the chances were good that she'd lay them in the position most useful to her to take them should she try for them.

Once that's done, shoes are removed, and Domino is led into an interior room that is laid out in warm reds and vibrant golds. Wood cuttings line the wall, and off towards the end, there's a ricepaper wall with shadowed figures just beyond.

"Mister Himura will be out."

The pair now stand to the side.. and before too long, the door to the rice-paper 'room' is opened, and a young woman comes out wearing a traditional kimono, and sets a tray of tea down upon a very low table. Serving the steaming liquid into two tiny cups, she retires to a side of the room opposite the suited businessmen, and kneels down, hands upon her lap. Shortly after, it must be the 'man of the house' as it were, that comes out silently. He's in a red silk robe, and a pair of socks that are split toe- tabi socks. Pausing at the table, he gestures towards the setting to Domino in silent invitation.

"I understand that you were to be a gift, and you arrive her under your own power now. Does this mean you are in agreement with what your former master had in mind?"

They touched Domino's guns. Of course they had to mess with her guns. Bastards. She does her best not to let it bother her (it is only a slight case of OCD, after all!) and keep her head in the game.

Now she's also without her boots. No way she's leaving without her guns and her boots.

How quickly things can change, a simple meeting in the streets having evolved to the point where she's now in the belly of the beast. Without explosives. However, it's that slight delay where she has a chance to reorganize her thoughts and work things out one step at a time. She needs to offer these guys something useful. Something they can work with. Fury's too big of a target, they would laugh at her and the discussion would be over, leaving her closed in with nowhere to go.

As a prize.

When Himura arrives and gestures her toward the table she shifts onto her legs easily enough, though trying to retain any amount of grace quickly becomes much more difficult when he speaks.

"I call no one master," she says in a soft but cold tone. "Xao Cheng thought he could control me. Now he's dead, incinerated to ash, his legacy left to wither away without him. I'd happily burn the rest of it if I ever felt the need. Don't get your hopes up, I'm not a gift. This meeting is strictly business. You get a name, I get to walk, no more stepping on toes."

When Himura sits down, the pair in the business suits watch Domino carefully as to what she does. Her words are of no concern to them now. It's the tell-tale flicker of muscle. The twitch. The glances around that may be happening as orientation is gained.

Which way is out?

Best route of escape?

Every mercenary worth their weight in contract price has an exit strategy. And every place of negotiation is always slanted towards those that have deigned to hear the other party out.

Those unreadable, dark eyes watch his guest for a moment before he quirks a smile, a soft laugh following. Again, he inclines his head, gesturing towards the tea that is set upon the table as silent encouragement.

"A name," is repeated. "The next leader of the pathetic little group that will soon welcome us with open arms? Or perhaps one that would still be less than welcoming when we show up at their doorstep?"

Yeah... The tea. Dom's not feeling a whole lot of trust toward this guy or his operation, though given that it is The Hand she could take the gamble that if they really wanted her knocked out or dead they wouldn't go to the trouble of spiking the tea. Not for little old her. Not for a woman. Would they ever be able to live with themselves if they took the easy way out against the fairer of sexes?

On the other hand, teacups are wonderfully frangible. Add to that a cup of steaming hot liquid and she's got herself two weapons in one.

Time to gamble.

The smile that passes across those inky black lips is one of idle amusement. It's also the first hint of emotion which she's shown since setting foot inside of this village. "Do you really think I would have come all the way out here to offer you worthless scraps in trade? That sounds like a wonderful way to waste everyone's time."

There's one teacup, comfortably filled with steaming hot drink.

"Even Cheng answered to another. He didn't like to show it but his strings had been pulled by another for some time now. If anyone else tried to come for him he would see it miles away. But with me..." she trails off as the corner of her mouth hooks upward a little further.

"I have my ways. You'll never get another shot like this one."

"Domino, you could have come out here with friends watching where you come, ready to strike at a pre-arranged time," Himura chides gently, as if reminding a child of a basic lesson. "If you do, they're quite well hidden, I'll grant you." Not a word, nary a report about any incursions. If the albino mercenary has anyone 'on the outside', they're unaware of it.

Which makes them feel as if they yet have a little more power in this game.

"I don't know what you would do. Waste my time, leave once you've seen the interior of buildings... who knows what lies in that pale head of yours. What I do know is this," and Himura leans over as if ready to impart the secret of the world, his voice canting lower. "If you are wasting my time, my agreement with Cheng holds. And we still take over China. We just have a little more fun doing it."

Straightening in his lean, the man looks pleased with himself, and picks up his tea to take a sip. "Who did Cheng answer to?"

With that theory laid out Domino flat-out laughs. "What on Earth would I stand to gain by taking on the Hand? I'm a merc. I like it that way. The less we brush shoulders with one another the better. It's only because of that idiot Cheng that I got pulled into this mess."

(Gees, and people accuse me of being obsessive.)

"Alright, maybe I would waste your time, but I wouldn't waste my own. And in case you haven't noticed, these walls are literally made out of paper. Getting a floorplan by going inside would most definitely be a waste of my time. We're in the twenty-first century here."

It's as Dom's motioning around to the room they now occupy that she happens to look past a window, catching sight of a pair of narrowed yellow eyes from the shadows.

(Oh, you sneaky little blue bastard...)

There'll be time to verbally tear his head off (okay, bad choice of words there, Dom,) later. Right now, Kurt's inability to follow simple instruction has become her gain. Funny how these things all work out.

"Does that mean we have a deal?" she challenges with a slight grin yet in place. She's gone from having nothing to a winning hand. She doesn't have to play this one with care any longer. The cup gets settled into her lap as she leans closer in turn, asking "Can you only imagine what it must be like to someone who has all of the answers before anyone else?"

Here's the pieces, all lined up. Now all they need...

"Martin Dumas."

..Is a little push.

(Let's see you predict this one, Frenchie.)

It is true. Kurt simply couldn't stand it any longer. And rather than leave a trail of brimstone, the fuzzy elf did the next best thing. He went from rooftop to rooftop, landing quietly, easily, and cloaked completely in the dark of shadows. He could lay odds that she never heard him land upon the roof of the house in which she's a guest. He knows for damned sure that the 'bad guys' didn't or there would be problems.

Even the sniper that has exits covered hasn't seen him.

Kurt really is good at the things he does. (Of course, he's of the opinion that he's the best!)

Those glowing, amber eyes are open just a fraction, and it serves only as a message. Fading back fully into the shadows, nothing can detect him. Unless he wants it to.

Himura studies the albino merc for a few seemingly endless heartbeats before he swallows his tea, sipping it gracefully, allowing the gesture of the drinking serve as cover for his surprised internal reaction. Finally, he sets the small china cup down, and his brows rise. "You can leave in peace, and you will be unhindered by my group for the name," he repeats the terms before he inclines his head. "Yes." Beat. "Only if it checks out."

Though now, the soft voices gain a little more urgency, and the next question asked is answered with a quizzical expression, though thoughtful at the same time.

It's the name that gives him pause.

"Dumas.."

Does the man know him? Himura rolls the name around before he twists about, his rapidfire Japanese coming once again.. only this time, that name can most certainly be discerned within it. Turning back around, there is a tight smile, "Now, if you do not mind, stay and be my guest. I'm certain your stay here will be comfortable."

(Sigh. And he had been so good about following orders before... That's now a 1 in 12 shot. Way to go, Bamfus.)

The rapid-fire Japanese is lost to her, as always. The end result seems to work out in her favor, though. Or..does it. No, it can never be this easy. Dom would like to think that it could be, maybe just this once, but there's more happening than she's able to see. It can't be this easy. This isn't the conclusion, it's the calm before the storm.

"It's been cozy so far, but as you can imagine I'm a very busy woman. The name will check out. And, hey, if it doesn't I'm sure your boys will be able to find me. They're ninjas, they're good at that sort of thing. Now, all I had asked for was five minutes and I'm sure those have all been used up and then some so I'll get out of your hair and leave you all to enjoy your evening."

She'll just wait to see if he's going to let her go willingly or not before abandoning that teacup. (Go ahead. Try to stop me. There's more than one way to end this here and now, Himura.)

Itching.. Kurt is itching to do -something-, anything. He's even lined up what it is he -can- do to make a point that looks aren't always deceiving when it comes to him. Most of the time, they are... but only when on the 'right' side of the matter, as it were. His tail swishes silently, waiting for that hint that all hell (as it were) is going to break loose.

He'll show them Hell.

Himura's attention comes back around to Domino, but his hand rises with his empty cup. Immediately, the young woman gains her feet slowly and gracefully, ready to attend to the cup and pour another cup of tea, should it be desired.

This gives the Hand's leadership a chance to consider. The albino isn't hard to find, truth be told. Where could she hide from them? Himura's gaze lingers on the dotted merc before he inclines his head. "I will allow your departure." His tones go from the almost genial to the dark and warning in a second's notice. "Know this, however. We will find you should you prove false. And we will enjoy the hunt. But. We'll enjoy the kill even more."

There's perhaps a note of finality when Domino's cup is replaced upon the table, a soft resonance of fine China along with a delicate touch.

Exit strategy A it is.

The guards behind her. Himura before her. Kurt outside the window. Teacup. Throwing knives. She had the entire room mapped out, countless probabilities factored in. Angle of approach, line of retreat, best measure of attack, countermeasures, how many feet separated her from her gear. All she needed was for Himura to say the wrong thing and there would be two dead guards, one host with a scalded face, and very likely an unexpected house fire that no amount of water would be able to extinguish. She did have a tracer round close at hand within a house made of wood and paper, after all.

"Not half as much as I will," she replies while rising back to her feet. "You kids have a good evening, now."

Boots. Guns. Door. She has zero doubt that Kurt will be beside her in fifteen seconds or less. From there they can both get the heck out of this country.

Then she can rag on him for ignoring orders.

After that she'll buy the first round of drinks.