Smooth Operator.

19. The White Death

CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE WHITE DEATH

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THEY SAY THE WHITE DEATH WAITS FOR YOU, SURROUNDED BY HIS ARMY OF ASSASSINS, KILLERS FROM ALL CONTINENTS. They were all trained by the best, and have killed their way up the ranks to The White Death's very own protection squad and military. They say The White Death is the most dangerous man in all of the crime underworld. But they have never met Shigery Kimura.

"I'll head for the back, and stop as many as I can," Yuichi announced, pressing the last piece of duct tape down against the shaft of his do-it-yourself sword.

Lemon nodded, loading his gun with the lone bullets he had remaining in his pocket. "I'll go to the driver car and get us the fuck out of here."

He overlooked the others – Ladybug, Tangerine, and Estela – and nodded over at The Ladybug. "What are you gonna do, Joburg?"

Ladybug stood from his seat at the back of the car, producing a silver briefcase from underneath the table. "I'm gonna buy us some time."

The aching speed of the Shinkansen slowed as the train pulled into Kyoto Station. Behind the station, the sun glowed gold, hit by the Midas touch. The entire platform had been filled out by men, dressed in suits and a black gargoyle mask to cover their faces, and in-between all of them, sat at the bench right in the middle, was their leader, the one and only White Death.

Finally, the train came to a complete stop, the gold sunrise beaming down on such a gruesome situation.

Whilst everybody else went off to do their self-proclaimed jobs, Black Cat and Tangerine stuck together. Lemon, as mentioned before, had sauntered off to the front of the train, to the driver car, and had placed his still-recovering brother under the lady's care.

Here, in the Momomon carriage, they stood, backs flat against the Momonga mural by one end, hidden in the shadow where the sun didn't shine, guns loaded in their grip, ready to either kill or go down fighting.

Above them, the ceiling creaked. Footsteps pattered along the iron material of the roof; The White Death's henchmen. He must be on board.

Tangerine and Black Cat shared a glance, a silent acknowledgement to proceed with courage and power, no matter how beaten-up they'd gotten during the tedious hours leading up to now.

Black Cat peered out the window at the platform, where The White Death's men began to file into the train, big shiny guns at the ready. She looked down at the Betetta in her grip. Her Beretta. It hadn't ever let her down. Yet.

"They're getting on," she whispered over to Tangerine, who stood on the other side of the door way.

His jaw clenched in reply, and his chest heaved a great sigh.

After everything he'd been through – he and his brother, always together – he would not die at this. Yes, The White Death was a dangerous, scary man, but Tangerine was crafty, quick on his feet. Although he didn't own anywhere near the same authority as the Russian cartel leader, Tangerine was true to himself, and knew he could trust the two people closest to him without any doubt; his brother, and himself.

BOOM!

White hot fire erupted from the Kyoto platform, heat spraying the side of the train; its strength sending a ripple throughout the Shinkansen as bodies went flying into its side and through the open doors.