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Explanations and Explorations
Time: Late Afternoon - Early Evening
Location: New Meiji Department of Justice (Police Wing, Armory, Shooting Range)
Characters, NPC, Saitoh, Tokio
“YOU HAVE ACCESSED THE NEW MEIJI POLICE DEPARTMENT ANSWERING SYSTEM. PLEASE LISTEN TO THE FOLLOWING OPTIONS BEFORE MAKING YOUR SELECTION.”
Saitoh took an impatient drag on his cigarette and listened.
“TO CHANGE YOUR PERSONAL GREETING, PLEASE PRESS 1. TO LISTEN TO YOUR PERSONAL GREETING, PLEASE PRESS 2. TO FORWARD CALLS, PLEASE PRESS 3. TO ACCEPT FORWARDED CALLS, PLEASE PRESS 4. TO FORWARD A CALL TO A FORWARDED NUMBER, PLEASE PRESS 5.”
Saitoh swore, and tried to resist the urge to throw his office phone out the window, wishing that they would stop changing the options every few weeks.
“TO CHANGE YOUR RINGTONE, PLEASE PRESS 6, TO LISTEN TO AVAILABLE RING TONES, PLEASE PRESS 7. TO REQUEST A CUSTOM RING TONE FOR ALL FORWARDED CALLS PLEASE PRESS 8”
Exhaling smoke out of his nostrils in a murderous sounding snort, Saitoh slammed the phone down onto the charger with enough force that his terminal and desk shook.
“Yorimoto!”
Saitoh’s new secretary jumped in his seat, knocked over a picture of his mother and her passel of pugs, and then tried to give his commanding officer a smart, manly sort of salute. “Yes, Saitoh-sama!” Newly promoted from the office accounting pool, Yorimoto Katsume was a twitchy little ferret of a man, one whom Saitoh suspected had an unholy fixation with fountain pens. “How may I provide you with assistance, Sir!”
(Holy freaking hell…) Saitoh gave his newest secretary a long measured look. “What is the prompt on the automated phone system so I can listen to my messages?”
“That’s easy, Sir! It’s option 18. Would you like me to assist you in button pressing, Saitoh-sama?” Yorimoto said hopefully, eager to prove his worth.
“No.” Saitoh pinched the bridge of his narrow nose and prayed for patience, since his preferred course of action, that being strangling his secretary and shoving the body where the sun didn’t shine was generally speaking, frowned upon.
“Oh,” Yorimoto’s face fell. “Well, if you have any trouble, please know that you can safely rely on me to provide you with timely assistance.”
Saitoh pinched harder, reminding himself that slaying evil instantly was not applicable to the mentally deficient, no matter how annoying they might be, “I will keep that in mind.”
“Oh, and if you are wondering about that voicemail you received fifteen minutes ago, the transcript is on your desk.”
Saitoh glanced down at his desk and saw that there was in fact, a memo near his cigarette ash covered keyboard. (Unlike most people, he preferred typing rather than relying on voice recognition software) He frowned (due mostly to the smiley face stamp that was by Yorimoto’s name) and began reading.
MEMO:
To: Captain H. Saitoh
From: Office Secretary K. Yorimoto (recently promoted)
Subject: Voicemail from O. Murakami, DOJ (13:35:05)
Dear Captain Saitoh-sama,
Here is the transcript of a voicemail you received from one O. Murakami. Please review and let me know if you need any further assistance in this, or any other matter.
With the most profound respect that you could ever imagine,
K. Yorimoto ^__^
Start Message
“Hello, this is a message for Captain Saitoh-san. This is Oharu Murakami. I’m not sure if you remember me, but I was the secretary to the late Fujita Hiroshi? Yes, well… I am now working for Takagi Tokio, Assistant Prosecuting Attorney. She asked me to call and let you know that she will be stopping by your office to return an item that you lent her the other day and that you should anticipate her arrival no later than 15:30….
Saitoh-san, I heard about your injuries sustained in the line of duty. I hope that you will make a speedy recovery and that your boys, bless their hearts, are safe and well. If you have any questions, or can’t speak with Takagi-san during this time, please call me directly or send an email so that I can reschedule.
Warmest Regards,
O. Murakami”
End Message.
.
no subject
“Moron,” Saitoh flicked the man on his mostly bald head, disrupting the carefully choreographed comb-over. “Takagi has been vaccinated for rabies, she’ll be fine.” He glanced over at the attorney with a sardonic grin, enjoying the banter almost as much as he'd enjoyed hearing her laugh.
“As for the armor,” All signs of sarcasm instantly vanished. “It served its purpose, as will the replacements that we’re here for.” He motioned for Takagi to follow him into what could only adequately be described as a large rectangular bunker with a long hallway dividing the room into two sections.
On one side were rows and rows of shelved weapons, most of them fully automatic, lining the concrete walls and steel storage racks, all locked up behind thick metal cages. The other section held the ammunition, a morbid mixture of high velocity and energy rounds of varying caliber, tasers, stunners, and personal explosive devices (PED’s) that either contained charges, nerve agents or were filled with shrapnel that would, depending on which PED you used, stun, cripple or kill their target.
“Some new side arms, I suspect will also be in order,” Saitoh took his larger gun out of the holster and extended it for Minato to inspect. It was burnt, cracked, the LED display flickering occasionally, “Preferably something that can punch through poly-kevlar body armor.”
“That’s military issue only.” Minato argued as he took the weapon and began fussing over it, as a mother might over a child with a skinned knee.
“Not anymore,” Saitoh said grimly, glancing over at Takagi. She’d shot a man wearing the armor they were discussing, “Takagi-san can also verify this. It’s on the streets and will soon saturate the black market.”
He frowned, thinking of how much more dangerous it was going to be for his officers. “We’re going to have to upgrade, and soon if we wish to maintain any sort of advantage over these assholes.”
“You’re already outgunned, Captain,” Minato said peevishly as he walked over to the table and set the damaged gun down. “All the weaponry and training in the world can’t compete against meta-amphetamines. Sooner or later you’ll be coming in here for a shot of this, and an injection of that.”
“The hell I will,” Saitoh sneered, his expression becoming dangerous. This was a long-standing argument, one that both men vehemently disagreed on.
“The day that drugs become standard issue for our officers…”
“Is coming sooner than you think, Hajime,” Minato said almost regretfully as he opened a trunk and took out what appeared to be a large gun metal grey flak jacket and examined it carefully, then tossed it to Saitoh, who caught it with one hand. “Until then, hopefully, this will keep your stubborn ass alive for a few more days. I'd hate not having someone to argue with."
"He took out a smaller jacket and offered it to Takagi. “Don’t blame me if the size is wrong. He called in your measurements and the specs for your armor. Top of the line, from top to bottom. You sure she needs this?"
“It will fit,” Saitoh muttered as he pulled unbuckled his gun holster, set it on a shelf and then slid off his shoulder holster. He knew exactly what her measurements were, knew them as well as he knew his own body.
Saitoh looked over at Takagi and something akin to sorrow registered in his gaze. Never again would she be able to casually dress, without thought to form and function. She was delicate and slender, her body suited to wearing an elegant kimono rather than military grade body armor. And while Saitoh was not a man who bleated and bitched about how unfair life was, in this instant and in regards to this woman, a part of him wished that the world they lived was a more peaceable one.
"I think Takagi-san will agree that this is an unfortunate necessity," was all he could manage. (It will keep her alive) Hell, at this point, if he could convince the women to go about town wearing a tank, he'd go for it, if it would keep her safe from harm.
"Beats getting blown in half by an energy round, don't you think?" Minato groused.
"Aa," Saitoh nodded, and took off badge, hand restraints, and other items an officer was wont to carry on their person.
“Well, don’t just stand there looking at me. Strip and get that armor on.” Minato groused.
“What?” Saitoh, who had already unbuttoned his shirt and was in the process of shrugging out of it, grimacing as the medi-bands pulled at his half healed skin, looked over at the armory master as if he man had gone off the subterranean deep end.
And then it hit him. He realized that Minato had not been addressing him, but rather the woman he’d brought with him.
Oh. Shit.
Saitoh stopped taking of his shirt and for a moment, seemed at a complete loss as to how best proceed.
For an officer, changing armor was commonplace, regardless of gender. He’d stripped in front of Watanabe and his other female officers more times than he could count and had until this moment, thought nothing of it.
(She’s not an officer, fuckwit…) he glanced around the armory, wondering if there was a place she could change privately. An idea formed, one that he tenaciously latched onto.
“Perhaps Takagi-san can use your office to change?” He looked over at the woman, his expression apologetic.