I volunteer to help

You decide that maybe that kind of workload wouldn’t be so bad, so you step up and break away from the crowd. “I can volunteer for that.”

The man who had asked for a volunteer looked somewhat surprised. “Who are you?”

“Warren Visser,” you tell him. “I was the one McKinley recruited out of Montana.”

He shifts legs. “A contractor, huh? It seems like you contractors get a kick out doing the bodyguard gigs. You realize you can’t grope or harass any of the girls, right? Punishment is severe and will terminate your contract without payment.”

“I understand fully. I don’t intend to tarnish your outfits name or this particular branch. In fact, it’s why I’d like to do something outside of your main work. Keep professionals for the field and what not.”

The man smiles. A little praise and butt kissing can go a long way. As long as you pay the cards right, anyway. He looks back at the crowd you broke away from and finds McKinley. “Good pick!”

Now it’s you smiling. The man crosses his arm and. “I need at least one more.”

“I can do it,” a voice announces and a man breaks out from the crowd too. It’s Kenji. You suppose that makes sense. You haven’t seen many Japanese around here, he’s probably just eager to see someone else that’s from his homeland. “I’ll go with Warren.”

The officer laughs again. “Another contractor? Great. At least I know you, Kenji.”

Kenji smiles and bows his head. You can see that he’s still recovering too, so perhaps he’s just looking for a better job to relax from. “Why don’t you dress up and go over to the studio now? The team up there currently will get you caught up.”

“We’ll get right to it,” Kenji looks at you and tilts his head towards the front doors. “Let’s not keep anyone waiting.”

It sounds like the meeting continued, even though you and Kenji were both on your leave. You caught up with Kenji and asked what he knew about the Katana Arts Studio company. This question actually makes him laugh a little bit. He slows down and looks at you. A friendly smile is stretched ear-to-ear. “A friend of mine, his daughter was a dancer for the studio - it might be a long shot, but I’m hoping to see someone I know.”

“Might not be so far fetched.” You join him. “Katana Arts don’t leave the Californian coast often. I’ve never seen the shows, but I guess it’s pretty cool they are expanding this far. I wonder if they’re trying to get Russian contracts…?

“No, no. North American contracts aren’t something the Japanese want...The Zodiacs don’t usually deal with clean entertainment anyway, and the Russian government’s renewed attempts to get their ‘people’ out of Canada.”

You didn’t talk about politics. Usually, the worse the crime the better the business was. So, you suppose it actually didn’t really affect you. Nonetheless, you decided to humor Kenji. “I’m sure the Russians wouldn’t blame all of Japan for something the entertainment crew was doing…”

“Mm. Perhaps. I don’t know.” Kenji steps off the sidewalk, now heading towards the building that used to be a museum. “They might be just spoiling for a reason to go into Canada with their standard army.”

“Canada is more ripe than America right now, but if they move in, the Japanese are bound to make a move to preserve their trade in the east coast.”

Kenji reaches for the front door and pushes it open. A rush of warm air rushes out and brushes against you. The building was hot - much hotter than you thought it was going to be. You felt uncomfortable in your new uniform as soon as you walked in. There were 4 men in the lobby, dressed in suits without the blazer. They looked tired and a little run down, probably by the incredible heat within the building.

They all looked to be around the same age. Not young, not old, perhaps somewhere just under or just above being middle aged. One of them looked up and saw you - they snuffed out their cigarette and said something to the other three before her fixed his red tie and pushed away from the desk. “Finally, some new bodies to replace...two of us.”

He looked at the other three behind and opened his arms. “Well. I know one thing’s for sure. I’m not sticking around anymore. I’ve been here longer than all of you put together. Which one of you is staying?”

One raises his hand. A balding fellow that is wearing glasses. He looks slimy - an annoying looking douche. He adjusts his glasses and smirks before he gives a deep and exasperated sigh. “I guess I’ll stick around - make sure these two know what they are up to.”

The other, somewhat overweight, brushes back his hair. He doesn’t seem to be all that excited to be there anymore, but he volunteers, letting the last of the 4 to leave too. The heavier set man walks over to you and Kenji, offering his hand.

Look at this fucking geek. How’d he end up here? He shakes your hand and then Kenjis. “My name is Zuprik and over there is Mikka.”

“Mikka” waltzed over, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Let me give you gentlemen a tour of the building…”

You could immediately tell this was gonna lack the adrenaline your usual workload gave you as a regular contractor. Mikka took to a hallway, which was still very hot. He gestures to a door. “Before you go any further, you’re gonna need to put on something more appropriate and red. The preferred suits are inside. They’re not tailored to you specifically, but they’ll have to do until we can get someone to get you fitted for one.”

“And our weaponry?” You ask.

“Fuckin’ light. Leave everything and exchange what you got.” Zuprik says.

You did as you were told. You stripped out of your heavier equipment and put on a three-piece suit and a crimson tie. You tried to wear the dark black blazer along with the rest of the suit, but the heatwave that enveloped you made it nearly impossible to bear. You stepped out of the dressing room and found Kenji waiting. Just like you, he ditched the blazed and just rolled up the sleeves on the white blouse. His inked arms were covered fairly well before, but now that he’s in a stabilized condition and cleaned up, you can see that the designs of his tattoos are much more elegant than you had previously thought.

He hands you a pistol, which is completely black, strangely light, and blocky - as well as a holster. “Standard issue for inside security. Everyone has one - they’re Austrian.”

“Kinda feels like a toy,” you say. “And it’s kinda...ugly.”

“Function over form.” Kenji replies.

Once you are suited and armed, you meet the original two members of the squad you are relieving. Mikka and Zuprik were talking amongst each other and were in a private conversation when you walked out. Mikka shut his mouth, but something was bothering Zuprik.

United, the four of you exchange pleasantries - learning as much about each other as you can before you make it to a flight of stairs. They twisted for at least 2 levels, where the temperatures finally dropped...somewhat. At the final step was another small hallway which was well-lit and had a couple of display cases featuring some pictures and record players from the 1980’s....Maybe even earlier? You weren’t exactly caught up with the latest/oldest technologies, so passing these didn’t gather too much attention. Once you reach the double doors, both of the original members push them open, revealing a rather small stadium with chairs pulled out and facing the stage; it was also far from empty.

It seemed like all the dancers were in the room too. The heat that had been affecting you, was also inflicting them. They must’ve given up practicing, because all they were doing was drinking, smoking, and talking. They also aren’t dressed in anything besides their undergarments and stockings. They glare at all of 4 as you march down between the aisles. When you are closer to them, you see that their makeup is smudged and sloppy. You tried to fight your thoughts, but you were sure these were prostitutes and not professional dancers.

Everyone besides Kenji was sweating considerably. While you descended the steps, you finally asked why the hell it was so hot in here.

Their glares continued. Their lips puckered. Their eyes narrowed. Disgust washed over them. It was clear they were angry. Not at you personally, but they were furious with the situation.

“This is where the dancers are, ah, girls and men alike- it’s usually louder in here, and um, busier too. But, with the furnace going up, it’s kinda preventing them to do what they’re here to do.” Mikka says, slouching up to one of the chairs.

“Right. So, what is our actual job then?”

“No one fucks with the Japanese.” Zuprik says flatly. “This job is almost pointless.”

Mikka looks around and sighs, shaking his head. “We can hardly even talk to the girls - they’re all out of our league. Unless they have the desire to leave and explore, they basically sleep, eat, practice, and then perform. It’s a routine kind of thing.”

Kenji is silent, so you ask another question. “What are we on the lookout for?”

“No one fucks with the Japanese,” Zuprik repeats. “This job IS pointless.”

You’re about to ask something else, which you thought was going to shed some more light on the situation, but a couple of men come up and reach for Mikka and Zuprik. “We need you guys to go to the market with us. We gotta grab some new parts to fix the furnace.”

Mikka looks at you and Kenji. “Why not ask them to go with you? The new guys would love to learn about that part of the job.”

One of the men gives him a strange look. Mikka sighs. “Okay. Fine. Kenji, Warren, you stick around and...talk to each other I guess.”

Kenji’s attention vanished as soon as you stepped into the room. He started to gingerly suck dry on a cigarette. His sharp, brown stare swept across the room, darting to each other dancers carefully as though he was looking for someone.

If anyone came in looking less-than-desirable, they’d stick out like a sore-thumb. Everyone here looked miserable, sure, but if someone came in here looking for trouble they’d probably get noticed by the dancers before you noticed them. You sit on a chair, prompting Kenji to do the same. His eyes finally land on you and he blinks. He stuffs his hand into his pocket and he pulls out a lighter, but he doesn’t offer any subject of conversation.

The girls are still watching you, making you feel self-conscious. You haven’t seen Akiko anywhere, which was part of the reason why you volunteered to come here.