The Lost Scroll of Fudo Shin (7 page)

We have a problem.

Jimmy sighed.  You mean I have a problem, don't you?  After all, you're just a voice in my head.

The man who just boarded is an assassin.  

Jimmy frowned.  How do you know that?

Did you see his clothes?

Yeah, they were dark.  What about them?

And what about the shoes he wore?

I didn't notice.

In time you will see everything.  You must always see everything without giving the impression that you are looking.  Do you understand?

Yes.

He will not try to kill you while the plane is in the air.  But once it lands, you will be in grave danger.

Great.  Jimmy could already feel the ache in his stomach starting up again.  If this kept up, he was going to have an ulcer before he was fifteen.

Calm yourself.  Once we land, you will get off the plane and head for the exit.  Move quickly.  

Jimmy took a deep breath and exhaled it.  If he couldn't do anything about the assassin right now, then he supposed there was no sense spending the entire flight worrying about it.

The jet pushed back from the gate and Jimmy felt it lurch before finally rolling out on the runway.  They slowly made their way to the end of the runway, turning this way and that before finally getting into preflight position.

The engine whine cranked higher and higher and Jimmy felt like they might explode but then the plane lurched forward.  Jimmy looked out of the window and saw the runway flashing by faster and faster.

And then the nose of the plane lifted off the tarmac and the roar of the wheels on the ground vanished.  Jimmy looked down and saw the ground falling away from them faster until they were into the clouds.

He leaned back, aware then that he’d stopped breathing during take-off.  He took another deep breath and exhaled it.  

He had no idea why so many people seemed to want to hurt him.

But somehow, he was off on his own adventure.  Despite the close calls, he was actually having a lot of fun.

He only hoped it wouldn’t end too soon.

Especially if that assassin on the plane got his hands on Jimmy.

Chapter Six

Jimmy felt himself being nudged awake by one of the flight attendants.  He opened his eyes, unaware that he’d fallen asleep.  “What time is it?’

“After five, sir.  We’re making our initial descent into Los Angeles.”  She smiled.  “Can I get you something to drink, sir?”

Jimmy almost winced at being called “sir,” but figured it came with the first class ticket.  “Can I get a Pepsi?”

“Certainly.”  She left and returned a minute later with an ice-cold can of Pepsi.  She cracked it and poured it over ice in a cup.

“You can leave the can,” said Jimmy.  “I’m pretty thirsty.”

She nodded and then left.  Jimmy glanced back at the curtain; the assassin would be back there somewhere, no doubt planning his next move.  Jimmy leaned back and tried to concentrate on drinking his soda.  He was going to have to run off the plane and then try to lose the guy somewhere in the airport.  But how would he do that?  He didn't know this airport or where the exits were or any of the-

Relax.

He frowned.  Easier said than done.

Count your breaths.  Inhale through your nose and exhale through your mouth.  Start at one and count up to ten before once again starting at one.

Jimmy forced himself to do as the voice said and when he reached the tenth breath, he actually felt calmer.  

Thanks.

It is natural to feel this way prior to combat.  You must learn to deal with the effects of such encounters such that they do not interfere with your focus.  Counting your breath is one way to do this.

Jimmy leaned back.  He could feel the plane descending now.  He glanced out of the window and saw the clouds parting.  Beneath him, he could make out ocean and land as the plane navigated closer to Los Angeles.  Buildings rose up to greet them as they flew lower and lower.  And when Jimmy felt he vague lurch and heard the dull whine, he knew the landing gear had just come down.

He felt nervous all of a sudden.  He remembered this was his first fight and now he was about to experience his first plane landing.  He peered out of the window, nervous and excited at the same time.

The ground came toward them.  Jimmy could see the tarmac now and other planes jockeying for position to take off.  The plane banked and came in for its final approach.  Jimmy imagined the co-pilot ticking off the altitude: 1000 feet, eight hundred, six hundred, five hundred, four hundred, three hundred, two hundred, one hundred, fifty feet…twenty feet…

BUMP…

They were down.  Jimmy leaned back in his seat as the gravity pushed him back and then as the pilot applied the brakes, the plane slowed and he felt himself leaning forward again.

They slowed and then taxied over to the gate.  Jimmy exhaled.

Time to go.

He stood and grabbed his backpack from the overhead compartment.  As he did so, he could see the curtains separating first class from the rest of the plane part as a flight attendant came through.  In that brief moment, he caught the hard face of the assassin sitting several rows back staring right at him.

He knows, thought Jimmy.  He knows I know him.

Yes.  You will have to leave the airport quickly.

Jimmy smirked.  Tell me something I don't know.  He ducked up the aisle and smiled at the flight attendant before exiting the plane.  As soon as his feet touched the interior of the terminal, he fast-walked toward the baggage claim area.

He passed a throng of people clamoring for someone from Jimmy's flight.  he resisted the urge to look back and see if the assassin was on to him or not.

And then he felt the familiar urge in his bladder.

Oh no.

He veered toward the rest room.

Why are you deviating from the direction you should be heading?

Bathroom, thought Jimmy.  Gotta use the can.

This is not a good idea.

“It was the Pepsi I had on the plane," Jimmy said quietly.  "Went right through me.”

You had better hurry.

Jimmy limped over and pushed his way inside.  The bank of urinals stood nearby and he leaned the hanbo against the tiled wall.  He heard a whistle and saw a janitor enter pushing a bucket and mop over toward the sink area.

Jimmy relaxed and relived himself quickly.  He zipped up and flushed, limping over to the sinks.

“Got yourself an injury there, buddy?”

He looked up.  The janitor stood with both of his hand on the mop handle.  Jimmy shrugged.  “Yeah, hurt it playing basketball.”

“That’s too bad.”

Jimmy ran his hands under the faucet and felt the water hit them a moment later.  He glanced up but the janitor was still watching him.

“Can I help you?”

The janitor smiled.  “I’m just here to clean things up.  Take out the trash and all.  Don’t mind me.”

Jimmy grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and nodded.  “Okay, cool.”

Movement out of the corner of his eye made him flinch and in that second, the end of the mop handle shot right past his face and stabbed into the mirror, shattering the glass.  If Jimmy hadn’t moved, his head would have been stuck to the wall.

With a roar, the janitor yanked the spear out of the mirror and faced Jimmy again.  “Give it up, kid.  You’re finished.”  The sharpened tip of the spear glinted under the fluorescent lights.

He’s going to impale me on that thing, thought Jimmy.  He backed up away from the janitor and felt the edge of the sink behind him.  The hanbo!  He grabbed for it.

The janitor stabbed in again with the spear and Jimmy moved, arcing the hanbo overhead and then down onto the spear shaft.  With a crash, the hanbo broke the shaft in two.  Without stopping, Jimmy flipped it back up into the janitor’s face.

He heard a crack as the wood impacted the bridge of the janitor’s nose.  Blood shot out and the janitor dropped to the floor unconscious, crashing into the bucket of dirty water.  It spilled everywhere, mixing with the blood.

Jimmy leaped over the water and blood and grabbed at the door.  He had to get out of there before someone else came in.

But as he hauled the door open, he felt himself being pushed back inside as someone pushed their way in.

He saw the face.

That hard face.

No.

The assassin grinned but there was no mirth in his eyes.  And Jimmy saw that he quickly surmised the situation and then edged closer to Jimmy.

"I'll make it quick, kid, I promise."

Jimmy held his hanbo out in front of him.  The assassin eyed it.

"You know how to use that thing?"

Jimmy shrugged.  "Ask your friend."

The assassin grinned.  "He's not my friend.  I don't have any friends."

"Probably because you kill them all."

The assassin chuckled.  "Funny, kid."  And then he moved so fast that Jimmy barely had time to react before the assassin's foot slammed into Jimmy's lower leg, sending a thunderbolt of pain lancing through him.

"There, now at least you'll be more convincing with that cane."

Jimmy leaned on the hanbo, trying to steady himself.  The assassin circled him slowly.  Jimmy prayed someone else would come into the restroom.  Anyone.  Just enough to distract the assassin.

Watch his eyes.

Jimmy forced himself to stare at the assassin's eyes and caught the flicker of movement a split-second before he threw a punch at Jimmy's head.  

Jimmy ducked and flipped the tip of the hanbo into the assassin's crotch.  He grunted and bent over, but recovered quick, trying to tackle Jimmy and drive him to the ground.

Jimmy leapt back and away, slamming the middle of the hanbo down on the assassin's skull as he did so.  The assassin slumped to the floor and groaned.  When he looked back up at Jimmy, there was a seething fury in his face.  He scrambled to his feet but then slipped on the blood-slicked floor.

As he fell, Jimmy stabbed the tip of the hanbo directly between the assassin's eyes and saw the killer go unconscious, falling on top of the fake janitor.

Get out now.

Jimmy didn't need to be told twice.  He yanked the door open, but as much as he wanted to run away from the bathroom, he forced himself to limp away with the hanbo.  It wasn't so tough to fake it now that the assassin had kicked him so hard.  His leg truly ached. He felt sick again and he wasn’t sure if he could keep from puking.

Count your breaths...

While he did, Jimmy heard an overhead PA system chime on.  And then he heard the strangest sound of all.  "Attention passengers, will Terrence Livingston please go to the nearest white courtesy telephone?  You have a phone call."

Jimmy paused and then glanced around.  Who would be paging him?

Vanessa?

That beautiful Asian girl?

In the next instant, he frowned.  Something wasn't right.  Why would they page him to a phone where anyone could see him?  He hadn't known her for very long, but he felt pretty sure Vanessa would never compromise his security like that.  Unless...

"Come with me."

The voice was low and next to his ear.  Jimmy turned slowly.  Had the assassin already recovered?

But the face in front of him was one he didn't recognize.  The man looked like an insurance salesman.  Just a plain drab suit and glasses.  He was balding and had a slight paunch.   

"Who are you?"

"Vanessa sent me.  Come with me and do it quickly."

Jimmy followed the man down the escalator nearby. The airport seemed less busy than the one they’d left a few hours before, but as they came downstairs, Jimmy could see more crowds.  The man nodded to the right and they blended with a group of tourists long enough to get close to the airport exit.  Then they ducked through the automatic doors and were outside on a ramp leading to the parking lot.

The man glanced around them and up.  “No cameras here.  Let’s hustle.”

“Run, Jimmy.”

They broke for the parking area.  As they entered the dimly lit environs, Jimmy looked around them.  Any one of the parked cars could hold more teams of killers intent on finishing him off.

“Over here.”  

Jimmy glanced at the man and saw he was jogging toward a cluster of cars in the area marked long-term parking.

“Don’t tell me,” he said.

"Tell you what?"

Jimmy pointed at the cars.  "You're going to give me a ride?"

The man shook his head.  "Are you kidding?  I've got to go back and clean up the mess you made in the bathroom."  he pointed.  "We're in an area that isn't covered by too many cameras, so we've got a moment to talk."

"About?"

The man pulled out a map and unfolded it.  "Where you're going next.  You need to get to the Port of Los Angeles.  Look here."

Jimmy saw what looked like a subway map.  "Trains?"

"Light rail," the man nodded.  "You're taking the green line to Wilmington Station.  Once there, you change and get on the blue line, heading south toward Long Beach.  Get off at Pacific Station."  He refolded the map.  "You got money?"

Jimmy nodded.  "Yeah."

"Good."  The man turned and started to walk away.  

"Wait," said Jimmy.  "Where's the station?"

The man pointed back the way they'd come.  "Inside the main terminal you'll see signs."  He glanced at his watch.  "You'd better hustle, you've got a train to catch."

Chapter Seven

Jimmy found his way into the Los Angeles County Metro Transit Authority station at LAX and amid hundreds of travelers, managed to make his way onto the green line running east toward Norwalk.  As he entered the light rail car, he sighed.  At least it would be tough for anyone to tail him in this much of a crowd.

He frowned.  Then again, it would be tough for him to make out anyone suspicious, there were so many people standing near him.  The thought that any one of them could potentially be an attacker made his stomach hurt and his heart pound.