39

“You are a coward!” screamed Jack. “You have no honour!”

“It is unfortunate that you have to die,” said Fukushima, looking down at Laura while ignoring Jack. “You are a pretty lady.”

“You will go to jail for this,” she replied bitterly.

Fukushima smiled. “No, you do not understand. I have eight witnesses to say Corporal Taggart went berserk and killed you. It was only after the poor unfortunate Mister Lee tried to intervene and was also killed by Corporal Taggart that one of my men shot him.”

“Is that your way out?” yelled Jack. “You call that honour, killing a defenceless man?” he said, pointing at Lee’s decapitated body. “You would even attack a defenceless woman? Is this the samurai code of honour you profess to admire? You are truly the biggest coward I have ever seen,” he said, spitting in Fukushima’s direction. “If I had a sword you would turn and run like a little boy!”

The tendons in Fukushima’s neck grew taut and his face reddened. “You?” he shouted. “You dare to challenge me to fight to the death with these?” he added, brandishing the sword. “You are a fool!”

“Perhaps, but unlike you, I am not a coward. If I die, it will be with honour.”

Fukushima walked quickly over to Jack and said, “You will die. The both of you.”

Jack saw Fukushima’s arm twitch as he thrust out the samurai sword. He jerked his head back, but not fast enough. Fukushima sliced the end of Jack’s nostril faster than his reflexes could react.

“If I had wanted to take your entire nose off, I would have,” said Fukushima, sneering at Jack, who stood with blood running down across his lips and dripping off his chin.

“As I said,” replied Jack defiantly. “You are very brave against an unarmed man.”

“You know you could not possibly win,” said Fukushima. “If you continue to insult me like this, I might accept your challenge.”

“Are you sure you have the guts for that?”

Fukushima’s red face deepened to a purplish hue and he replied, “I will grant you your dying wish. Your death will be slow as I remove your less vital body parts one at a time. You saw the demonstration I did with the apples.”

“If I were an apple I would be truly afraid,” replied Jack. “It is a little different when you fight man to man. Of course, that is presuming you are a man.”

“Go ahead!” Fukushima yelled. “Get the other sword.”

“Should you die,” said Jack. “I would expect that your men would not kill us. That we would be free to go. It would be the honourable thing to do.”

Fukushima unexpectedly laughed and said, “I will tell my men that if you win the challenge, you are their new boss.”

Jack walked over to where Laura sat and said, “I know you disagree, but we will show them that we have honour. We may die, but they will never forget the courage we displayed.”

Laura swallowed. This is insane … What is he trying to tell me? To disagree? “Committing suicide is not courageous,” she said, with uncertainty. “You are wrong to do this.”

“You do not speak to me in such a manner!” said Jack, sounding angry. “You will show respect! If I lose, you will show respect to Fukushima-san!” he added, while reaching across the table and picking up a bottle of sake. “The Japanese think we have no honour? We will prove them wrong. Fukushima-san and I will bow to each other with respect. We will then retrieve our swords and fight to the death. If I die, it will be with honour. At that time —”

“We will die,” said Laura. She sounded matter-of-fact. It was not a plea for help. It was simply a statement of what she believed.

“Shut up and lower your face when I talk,” ordered Jack harshly.

Laura lowered her eyes as Jack raised the sake bottle high over her head. He looked around the room at everyone’s faces and shook the bottle to emphasize his point, before looking at Laura and saying, “When the battle is over, you will show respect and honour by pouring the winner a drink!”

Laura stared quietly down at the table. She heard Jack’s words, but only now became aware of what Jack would try to do. She slowly lifted her eyes toward Jack and asked. “After, do you want me to take them all out for dinner, too?”

Jack’s eyes revealed his thoughts to Laura. She understands … I wish I could hug her. Instead, he glared and said, “I do not believe it possible under the circumstances, but you could extend the invitation. It would show class. Now stand up! What is important is that you honour and obey my command.”

“Sounds like a wedding vow,” muttered Laura, slowly getting to her feet. “Except you forgot the bit about until death do us part. Or did you?”

Jack solemnly handed Laura the bottle before straightening his kimono and walking out to the middle of the room. Fukushima uttered a command in Japanese and one of the attendants retrieved the other samurai sword from its scabbard and held it with both palms facing up and his arms extended. Fukushima passed his sword to another attendant, who held it in the same fashion.

Fukushima paused to glare at Jack before walking briskly to the centre of the room to stand face to face.

“You have honour,” conceded Fukushima, “but your barbarian tongue will also be taught respect before I let you die.”

Jack stared back in silence before bowing deeply, as did Fukushima.

A quick upward thrust of Jack’s hand and a flash of metal alerted everyone that something was amiss. It takes two seconds for the body to respond to a given stimulus. By then, Fukushima’s terrified scream filled the room, as Jack, using a dinner fork with both outer prongs bent down, pierced his eye socket with the two inner prongs, popping his eyeball out like a plump grape.

Fukushima tried to leap back, but Jack’s other hand held the back of his head as he rotated the fork, before moving and wrapping his arm around Fukushima’s throat from behind, while his other hand positioned the bloody fork close to Fukushima’s other eye.

Laura was the first to react. She had seen Jack take her fork a moment before while the others were looking at the bottle of sake being waved above her head. She now turned and smashed the end of the bottle on the table.

Sayomi’s reflexes responded at this moment, jumping and throwing a side-kick aimed at Jack’s temple. Her mind was focused, blocking out the sound of chaos around her as her body moved to deliver the fatal blow.

It was not until the broken end of a sake bottle rammed deep, twisting into her face that Sayomi’s brain connected the reason why Laura smashed the bottle when Fukushima first screamed.

Sayomi’s kick flailed in the air as she felt Laura’s arm around her throat from behind as they fell to the floor. Laura quickly rolled over on her back, using Sayomi’s body on top of her for cover.

Sayomi struggled and felt the sharp edges of the broken bottle on her mouth and nose. She tried to grab at the bottle with her fingers but Laura twisted it deeper into her already shredded lips and broken teeth.

“Don’t try it, karate girl,” warned Laura. “Or this older woman will show you something you don’t want to learn.”

Da Khlot, along with the others, pointed their guns toward Jack, who was hunched low over Fukushima. Sayomi was not their concern.

“Back off!” yelled Jack, over Fukushima’s screaming, “Or I pop his other eye and ram this fork through his brain!”

Fukushima raised his hand to cup his eyeball dangling from his eye socket.

“Put your hand down,” warned Jack, “or I’ll shish kabob your eyeball and your brain!”

Fukushima lowered his hand and Da Khlot stared at the eyeball dangling and swaying across Fukushima’s cheek. He saw the desperate and determined look on Jack’s face as their eyes met and Jack started to twist the fork into the corner of Fukushima’s remaining eye.

“Okay, stop,” yelled Da Khlot, before turning to the others and shouting a command in Japanese. Some of the men hesitantly lowered their guns, while two didn’t. Da Khlot yelled again and the remaining two immediately obeyed.

“He won’t die from what I’ve done,” said Jack.

“I know that,” replied Da Khlot in a monotone voice. “Let him go and it will be easier on you.”

“Like hell I will!” yelled Jack. “All of you get the fuck out of here! Now! Close the door behind you!”

Da Khlot shook his head so Jack put more pressure on Fukushima’s eye.

“Do what he says!” spluttered Fukushima.

The men quickly filed out of the room as the sound of Sayomi’s crying and babbling became louder.

“Let her go, too, Laura,” said Jack.

Sayomi ran for the door with her bloody hands covering her face.

“Remember,” yelled Laura, “youth, vitality, and speed are no match for wisdom, experience, and treachery!”

Jack, in shock, stared briefly at Laura. Make sure I never piss a woman off about her age.

As soon as the three of them were alone, Jack told Laura to get his phone and call for help.

Laura connected with Rose and yelled, “Help — Jack, behind you!”

Jack spun around and saw he had moved dangerously close to the back wall. Da Khlot’s shadow faded from view on the other side as Jack quickly backed toward the centre of the room.

“Rose, we need help,” yelled Laura. “Tell them we’re in the banquet room. Main level.”

“Leave the phone on, put it on the table, and grab a sword,” said Jack. “Crouch down close to the door. If someone comes in, do what you can to take them down and grab their gun.”

“You are a barbarian,” sputtered Fukushima. “You have no honour.”

“Guess you’re right,” replied Jack.

“You will die!” seethed Fukushima, as his pain was transgressed by rage. “The both of you will die.”

“We all will someday,” replied Jack. “You first, I bet.”

“You are Canadian police officers,” said Fukushima. “You should not even be here.”

“You had Lee murder a Canadian citizen,” replied Jack, “who, for your information, was an honourable man. Gives us plenty of reason.”

“You are here because of him?” replied Fukushima in disbelief. “He was nobody! Why does it matter about him?”

“Nobody?” said Jack harshly. “Do not use that word! He was somebody! Somebody’s son. He was a friend of my wife and was a much better human being than you could ever —-”

The sound of a police siren pierced the air from down the hill, bringing an epiphany of shouts and yelling from outside the banquet room. Shadows from a group of men appeared through the rice-paper walls and doors on the opposite side of the room from where Jack stood hunched over Fukushima.

Da Khlot crouched and waited behind the wall separating him by slightly over an arm’s length from where Jack held Fukushima inside the room. He used his cellphone to whisper an order to his men.

Jack saw the doors slide open a crack and automatically reefed Fukushima backward when he saw a glimpse of a pistol as a man peeked through. Laura crouched to one side, out of sight, holding the samurai sword at the ready.

“Close it!” screamed Jack. “Or fuck-you-shima dies!”

Fukushima felt the two prongs from the fork on the outer corner of his eye socket slide over the last bump of bone as it began to travel inside his eye socket. His command screamed in Japanese caused the doors to slide shut again.

Da Khlot caught a glimmer of Jack’s larger figure draped over Fukushima, but it faded from view again. He could hear the words clearly through the walls as the men argued.

“I want you to know something, Jack Taggart,” said Fukushima. “I gave the command to my men. Whoever fills the honour of killing you will be greatly rewarded. If you do not have the honour to die tonight, you should know that whatever family you have — mother, father, wife, or children — they will be found and take your place.”

“Is that why Lee was so loyal?” asked Jack. “Is that what you call honour and loyalty? You pompous ass! You are not only a disgrace to the Japanese people; you are a disgrace to the human race.”

“Who are you to say that?” replied Fukushima. “A lowly policeman. A servant for the people. You are nobody.”

“I told you not to use that word,” said Jack, angrily.

Da Khlot knew that a bullet in Jack may penetrate through to Fukushima, but he had no such worry about the knife he held in his hand. The only worry was the element of surprise. If Jack would move closer, it would be easy to stab through the rice-paper wall and penetrate the top of the spinal cord, paralyzing Jack before he could react and plunge the fork deep into his master’s brain.

If that opportunity presented itself, he would bust through the wall simultaneously while carrying out the second penetration, plunging the knife into the side of Jack’s neck. He would grab his falling body by the hair with one hand and use his other hand to slash through to the front of Jack’s throat, severing his jugular in an outward motion from behind. Death would be unavoidable and would take place within a few gurgling seconds as he lay on the floor while his brain tried to comprehend.

When the others opened the doors for a peek, Da Khlot almost had that chance. If his men yelled and rattled the doors again, it might give him the opportunity. The police vocally announced their arrival into the main entrance of the building. He had little time.

Da Khlot whispered once more into his cellphone before putting it down. Seconds later, the walls shook from hands slapping and banging on the walls and doors on the far side of the room. Sounds and vibrations made by men running and commands being screamed by the police added to the din.

Da Khlot saw his chance when Jack’s towering shadow came into view, brushing his back against the wall in front of him. He did not give Jack the opportunity to move away. He lunged forward, his knife making a crisp sound as the tip sliced through the rice paper and deep into Jack’s neck.

Da Khot heard the sound of the vertebrae as he twisted the knife before withdrawing it. The head nodded and rolled to one side and the body went limp as Da Khlot smashed through the wall, grabbing Jack by the hair while stabbing deep into the side of his neck and slashing outwards, severing the jugular. His momentum caused all three men to fall to the floor.

Screaming from across the room announced the arrival of a squad of police officers. Da Khlot looked at Jack’s face … awash in blood. It was the first time Da Khlot had truly smiled since he was eleven years old.

He obeyed the police command to drop his knife and stand with his hands in the air. He was not concerned. The Shaman will look after me. Everything would be okay. He is, after all, The Shaman.

It was not until Jack stood up that Da Khlot stepped back in horror. He stared down at The Shaman, who lay gasping and gurgling as his severed jugular sprayed blood onto Da Khlot’s pant legs.

Da Khlot’s brain tried to unscramble the unfathomable. It … it is not possible! The Westerner’s shadow … I saw it. Da Khlot trembled as he stared down at his master, whose twitching lips and one bulging eye expressed a silent terror as he died.