Russell Brooks - Pandora's Succession

“Does this remind you of your high school years?”

Fox stared at the crowd. “It sure does. I never had to wait in lines though, since I always knew someone on the inside. It’s always helped, just like it’s helped Hashimoto having you on the inside.”

When the limousine stopped, a bouncer, the size of an NFL linebacker, opened the door, and Tanaka’s two henchmen gestured for Fox to exit.

“No, after you,” Fox said to the ninjas. The two men forced him out, causing him to nearly stumble and fall. The two motorcyclists, who had accosted Fox earlier, had parked on the sidewalk close by, away from the crowd.

Tanaka was the last to get out of the car and the same bouncer closed the door. He looked at the two motorcyclists and waved them off. They both responded by revving up their engines and speeding away. Tanaka then straightened his tie as he looked at Fox.

“It’s not a good idea to disobey Hashimoto’s ninjas, especially since they’ll kill on a command from an authoritative figure.”

“Well, since it’s only you, I guess I have nothing to worry about.”

Tanaka laughed once again.

Another bouncer unclipped the velvet rope to allow the four of them to pass through. As expected, the people closest to the front of the line yelled in protest and Fox gladly waved back to them. They walked up a set of stairs and were met by another bouncer who opened the door for them.

Fox noticed that all the bouncers had similar physiques. Steroids…could they be more obvious? They were almost cartoonish with their oversized upper bodies and stout lower bodies, sort of like the bulldog from Looney Toons. Fox forgot the character’s name. Hector, possibly.

The foyer, circular and painted, lit in fluorescent red, ringed the actual dancehall. A clever feature was the smell of cherries, and it made him thirsty. With the massive crowd outside, Fox knew the bartenders would have their pockets overflowing with tips by early morning.

The inner circular wall was covered in mirrors and had four entrances to the main dance floor, all equidistant from each other. Each dancehall entrance had two rows of thick, black-leather curtains that acted as a sound barrier to keep the music inside.

Tanaka turned to Fox. “We should hurry. The young people will be streaming in any moment now.” Tanaka led the way to the glass-enclosed elevator, which was on the outer circular wall of the foyer.

Along the walls, were small artificial palm trees in large ceramic pots, filled with sand. Fox dropped down and pretended to tie his shoe. As expected, Tanaka’s henchmen grabbed him from behind and pulled him up. However, Fox pretended to stumble and caught the edge of one of the pots with both hands. Again, Tanaka’s men were too occupied pulling Fox up onto his feet to notice him dipping a hand into the sand and then dropping some of it into his pants pocket. He could’ve flung it in the eyes of Tanaka’s men right now, however he wanted to meet Hashimoto, and letting Tanaka lead him was the easiest way to do so.

Once they got in, they rode the cylindrical elevator up all five stories. They exited the elevator into an area that was similar to the street-level foyer, except the walls were fluorescent green and actually emitted a strong lime scent. A powerful blast of House Music overwhelmed them when Tanaka pulled open the second leather curtain of the doorway.

This floor of the dance club was empty, and it resembled a cylindrical-shaped prison with fluorescent surroundings. The fifth floor was fluorescent green, the fourth floor was yellow, the third was blue, and the second, purple, then the bottom floor was red.

From where he was, he saw that each floor was ring shaped with the exception of the bottom floor and that there were bars that surrounded the inner ring. Then there was the most spectacular feature. Five cage-dancers, three young men and two women, each dressed in fluorescent red, purple, blue, yellow, and green bodysuits. As they danced, their individual cages were randomly lowered and raised in the open space of the cylinder.

Fox walked on with the others as he observed the surroundings. A front for recruits, no doubt. According to what he knew, Hashimoto was recruiting people in the age group he saw lined up outside. It didn’t matter what happened behind the scenes at this nightclub, but Hashimoto had no right to be around anyone this age. And if things went Fox’s way, he’d burn the place to the ground.

Fox saw an area separated by a glass enclosure. Even the inner ring of that section had its bars replaced by glass. Tanaka opened the glass door, and when it closed behind all of them, the loud music was left behind as well.

Tanaka stepped aside and gestured to the others to walk past him. “Ah, much better, much quieter, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Actually, I liked it out there. I was about to have a John Travolta moment.”

For the first time, Fox noticed that Tanaka didn’t laugh. Obviously he didn’t seem to understand the joke.

Unlike the dance floor outside, this room was a cocktail lounge complete with booths and round tables with a glass vase and candle on each. All of the tables were empty, except for the last table where Fox saw the silhouette of a person. The person sat alone, facing away from them.

Fox squinted as he tried to discern the shadowy figure. “So, you’ve brought me to meet Hashimoto personally.”

Tanaka laughed again, and Fox rolled his eyes. “Hashimoto? That’s not Hashimoto.”

Fox took a second look at the person, but still couldn’t identify who it was. Of course, Katori told me that Hashimoto reported to someone else.

“I thought I told you to watch your back, Fox,” said the silhouetted figure.

Fox stopped where he was. Hold on, I know that voice.

The two guards were close to Fox as he was made to stand about eight to ten meters away from the booth, where he finally saw the woman, confirming his guess.

“Surprised?”

He was surprised, and Fox’s blank stare probably didn’t hide it. “I thought I’d learned everything tonight, until now.”

Dr. Tabitha Marx took a sip of what Fox thought to be a Black Russian. “There’s a lot that we need to talk about.”

“Really, where would you like to start? Do you want to talk about how you managed to recruit Japanese secret agents into your organization? Or would you rather talk about your acts of treason and how many years back they go?”

Marx relaxed into the cushiony seat and took another sip. “The recruitment process wasn’t much trouble. We help people see things as they are. Once they see the alternative that we offer, they’re practically on hands and knees begging to join. It might surprise you to know how resourceful I really am. Given the right moment, I could even recruit you.”

Fox smirked as he nodded. “Is that right?”

“Oh, I know so. Would you rather hear it from Tanaka instead? Or would you prefer to hear it from the police commissioner?”

Fox lost his smirk once he heard this.

Tabitha’s smile grew as she saw his expression change. “By the way, the word on the street is that you’re a murderer. A vicious assassin, I might add. Five, no, in fact nine men in total this evening. All of them believed to be of Russian origin and one of them Japanese, all ambushed and slaughtered. I’m impressed.”

“You would be. And I’ll bet that my fingerprints magically appeared all over the victims and the murder weapons that were conveniently left at the scene of the crime.”

“Correction. Scenes of the crimes.”

Fox chuckled and turned to Tanaka. “So are you going to offer me more sake, then lift my prints from the oshokos to frame me for another murder? Or do you have enough?”

Tanaka laughed.