~~~~~~~~~~~~PROLOG~~~~~~~~~~~

HONG KONG

23:46 HRS

Thursday, Early December

FOR a city that is so brightly lit, there were many dark and seedy places throughout the metropolis.

In one such obscure hole in the wall below a late-night noodle restaurant, a young tanned-skinned Asian man checked over his shoulder. Wearing black jeans, black leather jacket over a black hoodie, and sporting skateboarding sneakers, he fit right into the urban youth that passed him on the street. Pausing just above a set of stairs that led to a floor below the steam spewing windows of the shop, he gave one more glance to the public.

Degenerates. He thought. While he wore garb like them, spiked his hair in their fashion, he likened it to camouflage, using it to blend in and avoid detection by those who would like to get their hands on what he carried in the small of his back. Normally he preferred to wear the spartan and tactical attire of his adopted clan, but this particular job required a bit of intrigue, some subversion. Not because he was afraid of anyone who might dare put a knife in his face, but rather because he recognized the importance of his package.

But he wasn't here for any of them, he was here for the doctor. Turning away from the bustling night life, he adjusted the hood against the back of his neck to rise the cover a little more before he stepped quickly down the stairs.

At the bottom landing, where a thin puddle of scummy looking water occupied the right half, he stopped before a scarred metal door. Painted red and under a single light, it had all the atmosphere of a place that catered to the depraved and sordid desires of humanity. He stood eye level with the small sliding window and knocked.

A moment later, and the small rectangular slot was pulled back to reveal another set of steely eyes. For a few seconds the two men stared at each other, neither flinching from the stalemate. Finally, the man inside nodded, and the door budged at the sound of a heavy bar being moved aside.

The door opened before the younger man, and he crossed the threshold into a sparsely lit room of tobacco smoke and the sound of the local news on a radio. He spared the doorman a glance as he passed by him, a husky, older light-skinned Asian man of subtle muscle in black slacks and a grey tank top. Under his close cropped salt and pepper haircut he nodded in return, an old acquaintance.

The younger man continued on through, walking past a green table where four other men were playing cards, a recess in the wall where another slept with a old 30's gangster style hat pulled over his face, and a middle-aged Chinese woman in a suggestive version of a traditional Cheongsam dress.

He ignored them all as he entered a short hallway, the closed doors to other rooms on either side betrayed no hint of being occupied. Without hesitation he went to the one on his right, turned the knob, and pushed his way in.

Inside, there was a round wooden table, bare under the hanging light. A few other people hung back in the shadows, a woman, and two men, one of them very large and muscular.

"Tozawa." Spoke one of the men in greeting. Of Japanese and Thai parentage, 'Tozawa' was the only name he ever gave anyone to call him by. His mixed ethnicity had been a source of conflict during his youth, which had served to carve him into a detached personality. It was when he found meaning and purpose in Hong Kong that his disposition was channeled into something more significant.

"Chao." Tozawa returned with a slight nod as he approached the table but made no other move. Chao was another acquaintance he had met in Hong Kong a few times. He was Chinese, around the same age, and was notable for the long braid stemming from the back of his otherwise clean-shaven head. Something most did not so easily see, was the tribal dragon tattoo that covered his back. A mark of the dojo he had trained in for most of his life. Two years ago during a mission that required a bit of figurative and literal 'wet-work', Chao had shown him, and the men had bonded.

"Good to see you back in Hong Kong." Chao began in Cantonese with a small grin. "It would seem that the urban culture suits you." Stepping into the light, Tozawa could see that he was also dressed in civilians, cargo khakis with a denim blue button-up shirt.

"Not as much as you I think." Tozawa responded in kind, gesturing briefly to his friend. "Though I much prefer something more practical."

Chao nodded with a laughing grunt, thinking of the pride and discipline he felt while wearing their proper uniform.

"You have something?" he asked, expecting to be confirmed.

Tozawa hesitated to answer, "Is that the Doctor?" Pointing to the woman, he could now tell that she was white, at least in her fifties, and wearing white jeans with a yellow jacket.

"It is." Chao affirmed, glancing back to her for a moment. "Did you manage to find what she was looking for?"

While he didn't know or trust the two strangers in the room, Tozawa trusted Chao. Reaching around to the small of his back, he pulled out a large orange envelope, roughly an inch and a half thick. He placed it on the table gently, as if its contents were fragile. Producing a pocket knife from the cuff of his sleeve, he sliced open the end and extracted a translucent rectangular case.

At the sight of the object, the woman at last came forward, her eyes locked on the case. She placed her hands on the table as she continued to stare, leaning her head to hover above.

Tozawa tilted his head upon seeing the woman's face, and he stifled a gasp when he realized he recognized her.

"I know you." he said in English with no small trace of reverence. "You're the doctor who hired us?"

Lifting her face to meet his, her expression remained neutral.

"Yeah, Dr. Quinn Darien, that's me. Tell me how you got this."

Tozawa was taken aback. This woman was a legend to many, an icon. The fact that his group had been on assignment for her, and that he had been the one to carry it out and meet her overwhelmed him.

"We found it where you suggested, in a deep cavern on Okinawa."

Quinn nodded silently, looking back down to the object, marveling at the patch of yellowed parchment contained therein.

Chao could not help but ask: "Why did you request our help in acquiring this artifact, Dr. Darien? couldn't you have gotten it yourself?"

She straightened her back with a muffled groan, and gave her company a wry face.

"Not without attracting too much attention to myself. That island is crawling with Kaiju devotees as it is, they would have swarmed me like flies on crap. Plus, I am getting a little old to go spelunking."

Darien reached out to touch the case with her right fingers, "Not to mention the fact that I'm not the only one who'd like to get their hands on this, I just happen to be one of the goof guys."

Tozawa narrowed his eyes in contempt. "You speak of the Red Bamboo?"

"Yup." Darien said bringing the encasement up to her face for closer inspection. "My sources tell me they've got people on the ground hunting for this. So I needed people who could do this quietly, and without knee problems. People I knew I could trust."

"Then you have chosen wisely." Chao said with pride. "You know that we are honored to offer you any assistance."

She gave him a smirk, "If there's one thing to be said about you Battra disciples, you're integrity is second to none."

As followers of the Dark Brother, Battra disciples swore to a strict code of honor. While Mothra's followers produced peace in the sunlight, they served justice in the shadows. Being ardent warriors for the health and welfare of the planet, it often required some very blunt and swift measures.

"May I ask why this is so important?" Tozawa probed. "What did you want with it?"

Looking over the protected document, she fixed it with an eager grin.

"It's important because it's the only map of it's kind, absolutely invaluable. And I want it because my life's work is the Kaiju, and this little paper is the key to an unimaginable jackpot of Kaiju knowledge.

Tozawa took a step forward, his movement matched by the tall man, who closed in on Dr. Darien's hip. The man gave Tozawa a stern look, warning him not to get too close. Wearing black cargo pants, a button-up black shirt, and sunglasses, he cut an imposing figure.

"Easy James." She told her companion, "These are the good guys."

The man gave a discontented sigh. "Well ya dragged me all this way, I figured I'd get to scowl at somebody." His voice was heavy and gruff, with an American Southern accent.

"Nevermind him." Quinn said with a wave of her hand, "He's not used to dealing with people."

"You called it a map." Chao said, now looking to it with newly earned attentiveness. "What is it a map to?"

She held the case up to the light so that everybody could see. On the map was an archaic depiction of the coastlines of Europe, Africa, North and South America. With another one down at the bottom, Antarctica, where featured a few landmarks, and a notated blot.

"This gentlemen," She began, the burgeoning anticipation of an explorer in her voice.

"This is a map to Urth."