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TOKYO, JAPAN -- APRIL 13
Noon-Thirty
Brian

"Red couch. Come with me."

I could've killed Nick. He grinned, winked, gave me a thumbs-up, and watched as I got hauled out of the room. I wondered if he'd ever thought these guys were involved in robots or if he'd just been looking to get laid after all the tension with Leggy Lennon or what.

I couldn't believe Nick had dragged me - me, Brian Littrell - to a freaking Japanese harem.

For a tiny little Japnese man with only half his fingers, he was amazingly strong. I stumbled into the room as he guided me by my elbow. Sure enough, there was, indeed, a red couch. And a stage with a pole, much like the last room we were in. And sitting on the stage was a girl - also similar to the last room, except she was the palest white I've ever seen, like she'd been deprived of sunlight for a few months, the color Leighanne's legs get in the winter. She was wearing lingerie with little pink flowers all over it. Her brown hair was in a pony tail.

She looked up, her eyes wide and frightened as the door crashed open, and scrambled to her feet.

"You supposed to be ready," snapped the man, and he started to stride over towards her, angry. She flinched away and ducked behind the pole, as though to separate them.

An extraordinary thing happened at that moment - a phrase went through my head, a phrase which I never would have voluntarily thought in any place other than at a Japanese harem.

What Would Nick Do?

"Excuse me," I stammered, allowing my Kentucky accent to shimmer though, "But I believe my - my friend, he - he um - he paid for me to have time t-t-touching her, not - not you?" The Japanese guy stopped mid-step and the girl lowered to a crouch behind the pole. He turned to look at me. "I-I like'em shy," I said, and I forced myself to wink.

Mafioso grumbled and turned away from the girl, who remained in her crouched position, her hands clutching the pole, hiding most of her face behind her, peeking around it, and stumbled toward the door. "One hour," he muttered, and closed the door behind him.

Hopefully, he wouldn't catch Nick.

Thankfully, he wasn't in here anymore.

"Oh thank God," I muttered and lowered myself onto the couch.

The girl sighed resignedly and stood up. She slithered around the pole and reached behind her for the clasp of her bra. "What would you like?" she asked in a shaking voice.

"Keep your brrr-- brrr--- thingy on, for one," I said, covering my eyes as she slid it off. "And maybe add some more clothes while you're at it?"

"You don't want me to dance for you?" she asked, her voice incredulous.

"I'm a married man, thank you," I said.

I waited for what seemed an appropriate amount of time before I opened my eyes again. She was in a robe now - similar to a kimono, I guess. She held it shut with tiny fists. She'd resumed sitting on the edge of the stage. "Why are you here, then," she asked, "If not for the sex?"

"I'm --" I hesitated. "I'm an investigator," I answered.

Her eyes widened. "Oh my God, you're rescuing me."

"Huh?"

"Did my daddy send you?" Tears filled her eyes. "We were on vacation, at Fiji, and --"

Maybe Nick and I were hacks at the investigation thing and all, but we'd managed to stumble into what was an apparent sex-trafficking headquarters. I swallowed. This was bad. This was very bad.

"I--" She leaped from the stage and ran over and attached her arms around my neck, crying into my suit jacket. "I.... uhhhh...."

Suddenly, there was gunfire in the hallway.

"Shit," I muttered. I stood up. "I - um..." I looked her over, "Okay. Let's - you - you come with me, and we'll - we're gonna get you out of here." I reached for the gun in my holster. My hand was shaking as I held it out in front of me.

The girl clutched my shoulder.

"My name is Br-- Kyle Sheppard," I told her.

"Lucy," she said, "I'm Lucy McCartney."

I nodded. "Okay." Together we stepped forward and I pulled the door opened and poked my head out into absolute chaos.

Nick was running towards me down the hall, arm's aloft, shrieking. "I DIDN'T MEAN TO SHOOT IT!" he screamed as he went by, "HOLY SHIT!"


**********


Nick

"Where you go, handsome?"

The girl stopped twirling and looked at me. I glanced towards the door.

"I er, need to use the john."

She looked at me confused. I realized that she probably didn't know the slang.

"Bathroom? Toilet? Washroom?"

"Black door."

"Thanks."

As I closed the door and stood in the hallway, I was reminded of my initial impression of the corridor. I felt like I was on Sesame Street. I could hear voices coming from the Red Door. I could almost hear the second hand clicking. I bypassed the black door and headed off towards a part of the warehouse I hadn't yet seen.

I kept close to the wall, my eyes darting left and right. I kept my hand on the handle of my gun.

It looked like the warehouse was home for a whole jack of trades. Dead fish swung from hooks in one part of the warehouse. I spotted bins of truffles next to crates filled with white powder. It didn't take a genius to figure out what all that could have been.

A large hulking shape in a far corner made me slow down. I thought my nose detected a hint of blood over the smell of fish guts. I crept forward. I heard a moan.

"AJ?" I whispered. "AJ, it's Nick."

I glanced down and saw that the floor had turned noticeably darker. Even though it looked black, I had a feeling it was just the way the blood had turned when it hit air. I had to force myself not to faint.

"AJ?"

I was close now. In hearing range. The huddled mass on the floor looked up.

Unless AJ was Japanese, this wasn't our guy. He was holding his hands. The tips of three of his fingers had been cut off. The slash on his forehead didn't look great either. The dude started screaming at the top of his lungs in Japanese.

Shit.

"WHY YOU HERE?!"

I whirled around. Our couch 'friend' had snuck up behind me. I felt the blood drain from my face.

"I was...looking for...the bathroom?"

He wasn't buying it. He pointed at me.

"I KNEW SOMETHING FISHY!"

"Yeah, those!" I yelled back, pointing at the swinging ceiling fish.

He didn't get the irony of it. All of a sudden he broke into a war cry. From his waistband he yanked out a huge ass sword. I jumped back as he sliced the air.

"STOP! JUST LET ME KNOW WHERE AJ IS!" I screamed.

Slice.

"WHO?"

"AJ MCLEAN!"

Slash.

"WHY HE BE HERE? HE PAY UP LONG TIME AGO!"

Double slice.

I was performing something akin to the Mexican Hat Dance. By the time I processed the information and realized we had just infiltrated the place for nothing, I was sweating like a pig. Anger and desperation kicked in. Forgetting Brian's warning, I yanked out my gun and held it up.

"FREEZE!"

The dude didn't freeze. If anything, it made him madder. He crouched down and charged at me. Panicked, I yanked down on the release and squeezed the trigger.

"BANG!"

The bullet richocheted off the sword and clipped my shoulder. I did what any mature, fake-copy who had just got shot would do.

I stuck the gun back in my belt, turned, ran, and screamed at the top of my lungs. Somehow my mom's only good advice about keeping whatever's bleeding above your head jumped into my brain. I threw my arms up in the air.

It was mayhem. The door to the red room flew open. Brian had a cute, albeit pale, girl by the arm. I'm sure my eyes must have been wild with panic. I waved with my good arm.

"I DIDN'T MEAN TO SHOOT IT!"

"HOLY SHIT! THE DUDES GOT A KAMIKAZE SWORD!!! RUN!!!!"