| Digitalis [closed] | [Apr. 1st, 2008|03:11 am] |
Their mission was coming to an end faster than they were able to think of a viable plan to get the books out. Three days left, and the two agents had almost completed compiling the evidence against Yonaga and Fukuzawa. Sumire felt a little sorry for him. Soon, ANBU Sabotage groups would come for his building, ANBU assassins to take down each member of the board. In essence, not just burning and salting the ground, but pissing on it too.
Still, he would have visited the same horrors on her family, that some ninja had his. For a moment, Sumire thought of her sister's painted face contorted in agony, of the little Murakami children screaming for their mothers, and tightened her grip on her makeup brush. She couldn't, wouldn't allow that to happen. The sweet-tasting gloss was cold on her lips as it began to gel and harden. She wet her lips to reactivate the gel with another brush and started working again. Outside, the wind was making a marvellous fuss, she could hear the frenzied screech of metal on metal as the little sign for the motel battled hopelessly against the wind.
Tonight, she would be like a slow-moving poison in Yonaga's veins, undetectable and sublime. According to their data there was no other way. Oda would lift a key from the main secretary, be it through prestidigitation or seduction. After attaining the books and leaving their carefully crafted (and blank) decoys, they would flee the town. "Miwako" would have a terrible fight with Fukuzawa and quit the hostess club, causing a scene.
It wasn't a bad plan at all. |
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