The War of Wind and Moon (Season One)

Chapter Four

It was 1:55 pm in Nagoya, Japan but the local clock on the wall of the communications room of Kazemoto Security's International Headquarters wasn't the one that Ryosuke Kazemoto and his staff were watching. In a darkened room usually loud with the clacking of dozens of mechanical keyboards, the Hunt-data co-ordinators sat silent but ready. In Texas it was five minutes to midnight – five minutes until the State executed Rodney Ellison Bates. There would be no stopping it. The usual not-for-profits had made their submissions for the sentence to be commuted to life but all had failed. Ryosuke pushed his hands through is hair and silently cursed those who thought killing murderers like Bates ended their evil.

Two minutes to midnight, Texas time. Bates had refused all spiritual or psychological guidance and the Gossips the five families had bound to him had not witnessed any sign of repentance. Not that repentance would have made much of a difference to his karma. To be capable of inflicting such pain on fellow beings and to enjoy it pointed to disconnection that was almost complete – which was also the reason he'd been so difficult to track down, even with all the supernatural resources at Kazemoto's disposal.

One minute to midnight. Under the row of world clocks across the far wall, the giant screen flickered and switched to a countdown from the proprietary, secure app developed for just this purpose. In the jail in Texas, Sister Agnes was there to witness the execution and would use the app on her smart watch to surreptitiously report to Ryosuke's team as it progressed.

"Everyone ready?" Ryosuke asked, more as something to do, rather than from any doubt. Most of the staff spoke Japanese but less than half were native to Japan so at critical moments instructions were given in English.

Midnight. The screen turned red and the message from Sister Agnes flashed across it in large white letters:

Administered.

The red message also popped up on all 45 computer monitors, giving the darkened room a red glow as they waited for the next alert. From first injection to death took on average eight and a half minutes but it could take less or many more. The first injection was supposed to make the prisoner unconscious and pain-free as the other drugs ended their lives, but it didn't always work. Often their last minutes were excruciating and filled with anger that had a profound effect on the prisoner's karma and, in turn, their next life.

The room cooled from red, to yellow as, in Texas, Sister Agnes tapped the amber button on her end of the app. The message flashed on screen:

Physical Death.

"Wait for it." Ryosuke warned as desk chairs rolled forward and hands hovered over keyboards.

Green light flooded the room. On screen the single word:

Ascension.

Bates soul had left its body and disappeared into the astral plane.

Keys were already clacking as Ryosuke called out, "Okay boys and girls, you know the drill. Let's see if we can identify him while he's young – maybe before he starts on puppies this time."

"So we've got six years then?" Joerg, the Senior Hunt Co-ordinator quipped from his station, but there was no lightness in his voice, it wasn't a joke.

"Five years is our record. Let's see if we can break it. I'll be upstairs. Ganbatte!"

A ripple of head-bows and a sharp "Hai, Kazemoto-sama!" in unison responded to the Japanese word that had no real English equivalent. Ganbatte meant 'do your best' and was used as most English speakers might use "good luck" but luck was far too contrary a force to rely upon at a time like this.

Two floors up, the elevator doors opened on to the Aviary. Flooded with sunlight through its glass walls and roof, it was the opposite of the dim communications room, below. Ryosuke slipped on his sunglasses as he crossed the vast, white marble floor to the central platform from which the Senior Wranglers supervised. For today's operation, his sister Akiko was at the helm herself. He took the spiral stairs two at a time and emerged in the middle of the platform which itself echoed the octagonal shape of the room. From here, the 360 degree view 50 floors above Nagoya still took his breath away. Mind you, Ryosuke's view was particularly spectacular, adorned as it was by the shimmering, glistening bodies of thousands of Gossips. Like all Kazemotos raised at the family compound just outside of the city, Ryosuke was super-vigilant.