Chapter Three: American Partnership

"Alright, so you'll meet me at the harbor in two days?"

"Yes, we will."

Kenji sighed, relieved that he contacted these arms dealers. He suddenly remembered an important thing.

"Are you both going to be there?" Kenji asked, his practice of English not going unused and his inability to understand one of the men not being forgotten.

"Yes, but do not worry," the man with a heavy accent said. "Jacob will not be speaking much, and if he does, I will translate for you."

"Very good," Kenji said in his native Japanese before returning to English. "How will you be getting here?"

"A, uh-"

"I and I be arrivin' on a speedboat, ya'know," the man named Jacob interjected over the phone.

"Yes, speedboat," the more easily-understood man repeated. "Wait, Jacob, a speedboat?"

"Isn't your operation on the eastern American coast?" Kenji asked. The other man made an affirmative noise. "Speedboats would be impractical, then.

"We made a partnership with some sort of arms dealing guy out on the western coast. He's supposedly a former military pilot or something, so we're actually flying out to get a speedboat in Japan, and our friend is going to airdrop the cargo." The man, whose name was still unknown to Kenji, inhaled nervously. "Honestly, the guy is kind of a nut. He sounds Canadian, but it's hard to tell these American accents apart."

"I'd have to say that a nut sounds like someone I could trust in this situation," Kenji replied.

"No, Jacob, I don't want any of your weed. I tell you time and time again, but you keep trying to give me some." Kenji heard a door being opened and then closed before the man started to speak again. "Anyway, friend, it sounds like you have quite an issue if you need this many guns. Such weapons were illegal in your country, no?"

Kenji nodded as he paced back and forth through his apartment, looking at the M1911A1 on the table. "They are, but what I'm up against requires them."

"Now I'm interested in what you need them for." The man laughed before suddenly stopping. "No cousin, stop calling just to try to get me to go to bowling. Fuck."

Kenji's interest got piqued. "Bowling? Is that what you said?"

"Yes," the arms dealer sighed.

"Aw, I fucking love bowling!" Kenji wanted to meet this guy's cousin.

"Oh no," the man, who Kenji had safely assumed wasn't American, grunted. He seemed to disprove of the idea.

Kenji was confused about his contact's apprehension with the idea, but he pushed the confusion aside with a shake of his head.

"Anyway, let me get this straight," Kenji started. "You and that Jacob guy are flying out to Japan tonight?"

"It's not night here, but yes."

Kenji nodded, though it was obviously unnoticed. He predicted the actions of the men somewhat correctly. "After you land, you're going to get hold of a speedboat and drive it offshore?"

"Yes," the man said. "Then, we will retrieve the cargo from our Canadian friend and bring it ashore."

To Kenji, everything sounded like it would go off without a hitch. "Sounds good. See you in a couple days, then."

"Later on," the man said before hanging up.

Kenji tossed the phone on his sofa before slumping down into it. He was lucky that those guys from the United States were doing a gun running deal for the Yakuza, else he wouldn't have been able to get an order in.

"Fuck," Kenji sighed as he wiped nonexistent sweat off his brow and reached for the bottle of whiskey that was on his table. It had been a week since the middle school had been blown to fuck all, and Kenji was playing it safe. As far as he knew, he was still anonymous to the diary holders he saw at the bombing, as well as the other seven.

Kenji trailed the middle schoolers, First and the Pink-Haired Bitch, a few days prior. He was able to locate them thanks to the psycho girl's hair. They were at an amusement park for some reason, but Kenji had kept his distance and maintained a nonchalant appearance.

The whiskey bottle was already opened and Kenji raised the bottle to his lips. The liquid gold that was the product of Jack Daniels slid down Kenji's throat, and he slumped his head on the back of the sofa after removing the bottle.

Fuck, he thought. I know those four... that terrorist, the cop, and the two fourteen-year olds, but I don't know anyone else...

Kenji downed another dose of his medicine in an attempt to think. All of the firepower he requested would be for naught if he couldn't identify anyone else.

That's what I'll do. I'll go scout out some... Ah, fuck, how am I gonna do that? Look for dumbasses on their phones? That's every-fucking-body!

He set the bottle down and went into the bathroom, deciding to get some sleep while sober. He brushed his teeth and spat the saliva-toothpaste mix out into the sink. Kenji then rinsed his mouth and left the bathroom, making his way to the bed.

"How the fuck did I get into this situation?" Kenji asked himself as he flopped into the bed. The question had been asked countless times, but it always felt like it needed to be asked again and again to Kenji.

Scouring the city hadn't brought up any results the day prior, not even on his fancy-schmancy, future-predicting phone.

"Piece of shit," Kenji had said when relevant predictions had failed to appear.

Unlike Kenji, the waters of the Pacific Ocean seemed calm, despite the storm system that was due to move in. Nothing like a typhoon, but it was still something that could unsettle the water.

Kenji kept pulling his phone out and checking the time, anxiously awaiting his contacts. He had been at the harbor for a while, in a less frequented location. There was a white van near him, but it was empty and unlocked, so he took shelter inside it. He had parked a car not too far away, but the van was closer to the ocean.

Twenty minutes passed and Kenji finally saw a speck on the horizon that was growing larger with each passing second.

"Must be them," Kenji said as he got out and stretched.

He lethargically made his way to the jetty, and five minutes later, the boat was less than a hundred yards away.

There were two men inside the boat: a tall man with short hair and stubble, and another who was dark-skinned with dreadlocks and some sort of cigar in his mouth.

The boat pulled up to the jetty and Kenji was able to see the crates of weapons on it. He wasn't sure if dropping them into the ocean and then retrieving them was such a great idea, especially if water got into the guns.

The taller man stood out of the driver's seat and nodded to Kenji. "Are you Kenji Setou?" Kenji nodded. "Okay, good. I'm Niko and this is Jacob." Niko motioned to the man with dreadlocks.

Jacob nodded to Kenji as well. "Wha'gwan?"

Kenji was confused and turned to Niko. "What did he say?"

Niko nodded, as if he just remembered that Kenji had trouble understanding Jacob before. "He asked, 'what's going on?'"

"Oh," was Kenji's masterful response. "Waiting, I guess," he told Jacob.

Jacob nodded and started speaking in a language that Kenji couldn't understand. Niko informed Kenji that Jacob was just telling him to help them unload the merchandise from the boat and load it into the white van that Kenji sat in earlier.

Jacob put out his cigar or whatever and stood up. He walked to one of the crates on the boat, with Niko following suit. Kenji decided to jump in and help heave the first crate onto to jetty, walking to it and grabbing hold of it with the two arms smugglers.

"Shit, this is heavy," Kenji gasped in his native tongue when they picked the crate up.

The other two paid him no mind and seemed to not share his opinion. Though they didn't speak his language, Kenji was able to infer as much because there was a lack of strained expression on their faces.

The three men managed to get their feet onto the jetty and continued to the van, Kenji's muscles straining the whole time. After clearing the stairs and having Kenji open the van's back doors, Niko and Jacob then set the crate next to the van.

"Shit," Kenji gasped in English.

"Are you tired, friend?" Niko asked with a slight chuckle.

Kenji nodded, though he didn't want to admit it. "Just how many guns are in these crates?"

"A lot," Niko replied. "Assault rifles, military-grade snipers, and so on. Ammunition is also packed in there."

"Christ." Kenji gasped for air again and shook his arms. "I guess we should get the rest up here, then?"

Niko nodded. "Yes, we should."

The three men continued the process a few more times, a total of four crates being lugged off the boat.

Once they were finished, Kenji nearly collapsed onto the cement. He hadn't lifted things so heavy before, but he felt a twinge of pride at his ability to get the job finished.

"Alright," Niko said, pulling out a piece of paper. "You want your order, am I right?"

All Kenji was able to do was nod listen as Niko read the list.

"You ordered: an M4A1 with an ACOG scope, a laser sight, and a detachable suppressor; an MP5 SMG, also with a suppressor and laser sight; a DSR-1 sniper rifle which is also suppressed; a Remington 870 Tactical shotgun with an extended tube..."

Niko went on to list several more guns, all of which Kenji ordered. Niko also listed a large amount of various ammunition, which was also on Kenji's Christmas list.

Once Niko finished, his eyebrow's were cocked pretty high.

"Koji kurac?" Niko said, in a language Kenji didn't understand. "Are you planning a hostile takeover of Japan?" he added in English.

Kenji shook his head and started to think of a way to avoid further questioning. Explaining the whole survival game shit wouldn't be easy, and Kenji still blamed the feminists.

"Whatever," Niko said, shrugging. "Do you have a car?"

Kenji nodded and pointed to the mid-90's Honda Accord in the distance. Niko looked at the list and then the Accord several times, his face twisted into a look of confusion.

"There is no way you are serious."

Kenji nodded. "I'm completely fucking serious."

Niko shrugged and started to pry open one of the crates. "Whatever."

Jacob, who started smoking again, gave Niko a confused look. "Wha'gwan, me breda? Wha' I and I gon' do?"

Niko popped the top off of the crate. "We're going to get our Japanese friend here his order and load it into his car."

Jacob nodded and said something, which Kenji didn't understand. The lack of a translation gave him the impression that it wasn't important.

Niko pulled Kenji's ordered equipment out of the crate and set the tools inside of the van. A dozen guns and countless boxes of ammunition littered the back of the van once Niko was finished.

"Give us the money, then pull your car up," Niko said, wiping some sweat off of his forehead.

Kenji pulled his wallet out and gave Niko the money, some of which Niko gave back.

"For helping us unload this cargo," the arms dealer said.

Kenji wasn't going to complain about getting a discount, so he just nodded and jogged back to the Honda. He opened the door and slid into the driver's seat, then turned the key. The engine rumbled to life and Kenji pushed the pedal down, driving the car next to the van. He popped the trunk and got out of the car.

Niko and Jacob were already carrying the guns to the trunk, carefully placing them inside. Kenji opened one of the rear doors and joined in on the moving of the firearms. He took an ammo box and put it in the back seat of the car, which the other two men began doing once the all of the guns were loaded.

After several trips, Kenji closed the car's trunk and back doors, running his hand through his dampened hair. The humidity didn't help the fact that he was sweating.

Kenji then helped Niko and Jacob load the crates into the van, and once that was done, the two walked to the front of the van, Niko on the driver's side.

"Thanks for the help and for your business," Niko said. "Whatever you're doing, I wish you luck."

Kenji nodded. "Thanks," he said.

"If you ever need anything else, just give us a call." Niko cracked his neck and sighed. "I did want to get out of this, though."

Kenji felt a little curious. "Get out of what?"

Niko shook his head. "Nothing. Jus-"

"Niko, me breda! I and I goin' or wha'?" Jacob interjected from within the van.

"Yeah, yeah, Jacob. We are." He nodded to Kenji once more. "Later on."

Kenji nodded in reply as Niko climbed into the van and closed the door. "Later on."

The van's engine roared to life and the vehicle lurched forward and kept going. Kenji spun around and walked to the Accord. He hopped into the driver's seat and started the engine, a sense of security coming over him.

Maybe this is why Americans feel so safe.

A car pulled up to the sidewalk, early morning dew collected on its fenders. The radio was playing at a really low volume, music from an English-speaking band barely audible.

The car's engine went silent and the lights dimmed. The Sakurami City Police Station was fairly big, but there was one reason Kenji was outside of the station at such an early hour: Keigo Kurusu, Chief Inspector of the SCPD.

After unloading the guns he had smuggled in from the United States, Kenji had some free time and decided to find pictures of officers from the SCPD, since one was present at the middle school bombing. Not even an hour into his search, Kenji had found a picture of an officer who was identical to the one at the middle school. After some more searching, he learned of his identity, which brought Kenji to the exterior of the Police Station.

Kenji grabbed his phone and gave it a look. The only thing of interest was the date, May 5th. Kenji sighed and set it back on the passenger's seat.

Kenji's main objective was to take out the pink-haired girl, since she was definitely a threat. Assuming that the cop had formed some sort of alliance with the fourteen year-olds, Kenji decided that following Kurusu would lead him to either her or the whiner that was First, both even.

Kenji knew he was going to have to be patient, since Kurusu hadn't left the building. He also knew that he would need to remain anonymous, so doing a drive-by or frontal assault was impractical. For that, Kenji brought the DSR-1, having decided that it would be best to be at a distance when he domed one of them.

Shoot first, feel guilty later, Kenji thought before mentally slapping himself. What the fuck am I gonna feel guilty about? That bitch is probably a feminist hellbent on taking over Japan! She might even be Chinese!

A sigh escaped Kenji's lips and he checked his thigh, making sure the M1911A1 was still holstered. Comforted by the pistol's presence, Kenji leaned back into the seat and waited.

This might take a while...

AN: The GTA references felt oddly necessary. I may even make Niko a recurring character. I don't know why I did it, but I did.

The amount of guns Kenji has are both necessary and unnecessary. The amount of money he has is indeterminate, as is where he gets all of that money.

This chapter was, and was intended to be, largely uneventful. The next chapter will be somewhat more eventful.

If you read my other fics, I don't know when I'll do the next chapter for GitS, but I've had ideas for the next chapter of ADD. I probably won't work on that just yet because of some VN work I have to do and my computer started screwing up. Also, I typed this chapter entirely on my iPod.

Props to Clarky19 for one hell of a win Friday night (high school football), and props to everyone who reads this! As usual, review and all that fun shit.