Saitoh set the memo down, frowning slightly, recalling first the name, face and background of Takagi’s new secretary. He knew the woman, had met her a few times when he’d been over to Fujuta’s for a meeting and had watched her cry until her eyes were puffy and red at the family’s funeral. She was, he supposed, a capable if overly sentimental employee.
Saitoh glanced over at his secretary, who appeared to happily fiddling with yet another fountain pen and sourly wondered how much trouble he’d get in if he tried to swap secretaries with the attorney. (Hell, I’d be half tempted to let her keep the gun if she took this moron back with her…)
So, Takagi was coming to return the gun. He wondered if she’d have her regular issue side arm with her. (She better, or there will be hell to pay) While she’d dodged a bullet (several in fact) the day before, he knew all too well that luck generally didn’t last and that if the woman wanted to stay alive long enough to ever collect her pension, she was going to be more careful.
He frowned, took a deep breath of cigarette smoke, and exhaled slowly as an idea began to form. Several minutes passed, in which time he finished his cigarette, made a phone call and did some research on a certain grey eyed attorney.
It was immediately apparent that the woman was over-qualified for her position as an Assistant Prosecutor. Despite being relatively young, she was an experienced, successful attorney and had a highly commendable case record, with an impressive conviction rate. Saitoh noted that she’d taken on more than her fair share of corruption cases in Yokohama and surprisingly managed to win more than she lost, no small feat considering the rampant corruption that plagued every level of the New Meiji governmental bureaucracy.
The second issue that stood out was the fact that her brother, Takagi Morinosuki, the lead prosecutor for the National Department of Justice, had assigned his younger sister to her current position. While Saitoh frowned upon any sort of familial favoritism, he also frowned on the notion that her brother would put place her in an office that had the highest employee mortality and corruption rates in the country. He knew Morinosuki and had worked with the man on a couple of cases and up until this point, always assumed that the man had his head on straight. (The damn fool has thrown his sister to the wolves…) Saitoh had a pretty good idea about why this had occurred, but intended to verify his theory when Takagi stopped by.
He looked at her employee picture and compared it against his recollection of the woman from the day before. It didn’t do her justice, not by a long shot. The woman he’d protected and who had been protected by was intelligent, capable and surprisingly kind, a quality that was in very short supply. She was also tough, capable of sending a bullet into a man’s brain, and resourceful, using a blouse to tie a tourniquet around a severed artery.
The picture could also never hope to convey the sense of peace she carried within her or how soft her skin was. Waking on that floor, in her arms had been a life-altering experience. Saitoh stood up and walked over to the window in his office and looked outside at the sprawling, festering megapolis that he’d called home for most of his adult life. (Something occurred between us, some sort of recognition) While Saitoh wouldn’t go so far as to say he was a religious man, he did have a deep respect and awareness that his existence and the lives of those he cared for was more than the mere sum of this mortal life. He’d seen too much while serving his country to believe otherwise.
Part I
Saitoh glanced over at his secretary, who appeared to happily fiddling with yet another fountain pen and sourly wondered how much trouble he’d get in if he tried to swap secretaries with the attorney. (Hell, I’d be half tempted to let her keep the gun if she took this moron back with her…)
So, Takagi was coming to return the gun. He wondered if she’d have her regular issue side arm with her. (She better, or there will be hell to pay) While she’d dodged a bullet (several in fact) the day before, he knew all too well that luck generally didn’t last and that if the woman wanted to stay alive long enough to ever collect her pension, she was going to be more careful.
He frowned, took a deep breath of cigarette smoke, and exhaled slowly as an idea began to form. Several minutes passed, in which time he finished his cigarette, made a phone call and did some research on a certain grey eyed attorney.
It was immediately apparent that the woman was over-qualified for her position as an Assistant Prosecutor. Despite being relatively young, she was an experienced, successful attorney and had a highly commendable case record, with an impressive conviction rate. Saitoh noted that she’d taken on more than her fair share of corruption cases in Yokohama and surprisingly managed to win more than she lost, no small feat considering the rampant corruption that plagued every level of the New Meiji governmental
bureaucracy.
The second issue that stood out was the fact that her brother, Takagi Morinosuki, the lead prosecutor for the National Department of Justice, had assigned his younger sister to her current position. While Saitoh frowned upon any sort of familial favoritism, he also frowned on the notion that her brother would put place her in an office that had the highest employee mortality and corruption rates in the country. He knew Morinosuki and had worked with the man on a couple of cases and up until this point, always assumed that the man had his head on straight. (The damn fool has thrown his sister to the wolves…) Saitoh had a pretty good idea about why this had occurred, but intended to verify his theory when Takagi stopped by.
He looked at her employee picture and compared it against his recollection of the woman from the day before. It didn’t do her justice, not by a long shot. The woman he’d protected and who had been protected by was intelligent, capable and surprisingly kind, a quality that was in very short supply. She was also tough, capable of sending a bullet into a man’s brain, and resourceful, using a blouse to tie a tourniquet around a severed artery.
The picture could also never hope to convey the sense of peace she carried within her or how soft her skin was. Waking on that floor, in her arms had been a life-altering experience. Saitoh stood up and walked over to the window in his office and looked outside at the sprawling, festering megapolis that he’d called home for most of his adult life. (Something occurred between us, some sort of recognition) While Saitoh wouldn’t go so far as to say he was a religious man, he did have a deep respect and awareness that his existence and the lives of those he cared for was more than the mere sum of this mortal life. He’d seen too much while serving his country to believe otherwise.