OBpt1

Part One: Distant Callings

A moderate haze drifted across the docks of Tokyo harbor, late nights chill sending an eerie pallor through the surrounding piers and buildings. On this night, the Toysu Wharfs were found to be unusually active as a midsize cargo ship unloaded its contents onto the pier. The yellow-orange glow of lights cast the working crews shadows across the buildings creating a ghostly mural that seemed to act out the drama that was unfolding along the dock.

A crane�s engine whined loudly as a large white container was slowly lifted up from its resting place in the ship. All movement suddenly stopped as the workers paused to look up at it like it was some sort of holy object to worship.

Not holy, but not far from being considered as such, one pair of eyes widened slightly, lips stretching into a thin smile. He appeared to be young and of good build, although one could not judge age by looks nowadays. Dark hair swept lazily across his forehead, brows� twitching slightly with excitement and anticipation.

�Master,� whispered the low steady voice of Hiroki Motoabe.

The crane lifting the container maneuvered it over to the dock. Several stevedores and other workers hurried to catch the guide wires, shifting their mysterious cargo around as it was lowered to the concrete pier.

Hiroki shifted slightly, anxious to complete this part of the operation. All the new eras to be born, he thought, tonight we will begin another chapter of history on this bleak planet. The sound of a large van came from behind him and he turned around.

Coming to a stop close to where he stood, the van was shut down and several figures got out of the front. One of them, a taller man sporting long dark locks of shaggy hair, looked around. He spotted Motoabe and waved cheerfully.

�Hey Hiroki, I got our gifts for the man,� he called out in a rough voice.

�You don�t have to yell, Abe,� replied Hiroki. �I can hear just as well as you.�

Abe Nashimaru hitched up his black trenchcoat and quickly walked over. There was excitement in his eyes, the normally wild look accenting his slightly insane mentality.

�Is he�?�

�Almost,� Hiroki said nodding towards the container.

Abe clasped his hands together, rubbing them deviously. �Oh yeah! And I got some choice cuts too!�

Hiroki arched a brow. �Really?�

�Yep.� Pausing, Abe gave him a wry look before glancing up at the sky. �Wasn�t too much of a struggle,� he continued, stroking the hairs of goatee. �Couple of quick strikes and they went down like flies.�

�You were not seen I hope?�

�Come on, Hiroki. I�m cleaner than that.�

�Just like those two last week. Made the front page of the papers.�

Abe shrugged. �Ooops,� he said, although Hiroki could tell he did not mean it.

�How many did you get?�

�Five.�

�Young?�

�Like I said choice cuts.�

�Let�s see.�

Abe lead Hiroki around to the back of the van. He opened up the doors and turned on the light displaying five bodies on the floor. They were all bound and gagged, blindfolds across their faces struggling desperately to get free. Three men and two women, their pitiful moans rising up for help.

�Hm, not a bad catch, Abe.�

Grinning, Abe was pleased by the compliment. �You think the Master will like it?�

�No doubt, my friend,� replied Hiroki. �Now come, we must�.�

A loud crash cut the air. Both men rounded to see the workers scrambling towards the container sitting on the pier.

�You fools!� shouted Hiroki. �Be careful unless you want the Master�s wrath upon you!�

Abe growled low and both of them started towards the container, when a low laugh sounded out of the mist behind them. A dark figure slowly materializing out of the gloom, a figure that towered over both men as it drew closer.

�Master?� said Hiroki.

The laughter stopped and as the newcomer stepped out into the light, all those present knelt down on one knee.

Malenkov Rimialdi passed a commanding gaze over the people before him. One of the old bloods, he also hid his true age, draconian features hidden behind a thick well-groomed beard. His right hand held a martini glass, a dark liquid swirling around its sides. His sinister eyes narrowed slightly, a smile coming to his lips.

�Stand up, Hiroki,� he said, the thick Ukrainian accent heavy on his lips.

�Milord,� said Motoabe. �I feared for your safety.�

Malenkov laughed again. �Hiroki, Do you think I would stay in that accursed box knowing how things are handled nowadays?�

Hiroki motioned for the others to rise. �Of course not, Master.�

�Besides, I wanted to stretch my legs and get a look around. It has been a long time since I�ve been to the Orient.� He took a sip from the glass in his hand. �So, my young friend. How have you been doing?�

�Well, Milord. I have managed to establish myself a fine reputation in the community.�

�Oh? Doing what?�

�Photography, and I�m also opening up a nightclub.�

Rimialdi nodded, quite pleased by his prot�g�s accomplishments.

�Excellent. It will be perfect for our new beginnings.�

Motoabe smiled. �Yes, Master. I am sure you are famished so�.�

�We have brought you a feast, Master Rimialdi!� Abe blurted out.

Slowly, Malenkov�s eyes drifted over to the intrusive Abe. He arched a brow, and cut his eyes back to Hiroki.

�My assistant, Abe Nashimaru,� Hiroki coldly said. �And as I was just about to say, we have brought you fresh chattel to feed upon.�

At the suggestion of eating, a fire could be seen in Rimialdi�s eyes. �Show me,� he commanded.

The entourage returned to the rear of the van and its helpless victims inside. Hiroki could see the Old Blood�s chest heaving with an animalistic beat. His nostrils flared as he drew in the scent of fear and flesh.

�Yes,� he said with a long breath. �I can taste their blood now.�

Renewed moans and struggles began as the five heard the deadly threat from their unknown captors. Rimialdi�s dark laugh only increased their fears.

�They struggle well, but for naught.�

Malenkov handed the glass to Abe, slowly pushing the overzealous man back behind him. He leaned in, running a hand over exposed arms and legs, testing muscles, licking their salty sweat from the tips of his fingers.

�An excellent catch,� he said, drawing back.

�Yes it is, Master,� replied Hiroki.

Reaching in, Motoabe grabbed one of the females and pulled her out. She whined loudly, body thrashing about trying to undo the ropes binding her limbs. Gently, he began stroking her hair, shushing her into silence. With a light tug, the blindfold came off and the startled girl gasped looking frantically around.

�Pretty thing,� said Hiroki, stroking her chin.

�I see you have not lost your taste for the younger sins of the flesh,� commented Rimialdi.

�I like her,� answered Hiroki. �That is, with the Master�s permission.�

�Take her. There is more than enough here for me.�

The young woman�s eyes darted back and forth between the two. She stopped, looking up at Motoabe and he smiled, exposing a set of sharp canine teeth. The gag in her mouth muffled her scream.

�There, there,� said Hiroki, drawing her to his chest. �Hush. I will not hurt you.�

Rimialdi chuckled lightly. �Now then. Where are my new lodgings, and what is the current awareness of the chattel in Japan, Hiroki?�

�The populace is slightly aware of us, Master,� answered Motoabe. �In fact, vampirism seems to be an �in� thing with some of the newer generations.�

�Slaves?�

�In abundance.�

�Outstanding. Where are we going?�

�Too my new studio. I had it laid out with your needs in mind, Master.�

Rimialdi paused to eye his soon to be victims again.

�We will go then. I want to rest.�

�Will you be feasting, Master?�

The Old Blood merely smiled as he climbed into the van. Hiroki understood and instructed Abe to drive him to his new home. As the van sped away, Hiroki looked back down at the woman in his arms. Lifting her up, he made a slicing motion across her ankles and the ropes fell away.

�Come,� he said, draping an arm around her shoulders guiding her along. �Let us discuss your opportunity for extended life��

* * * * *

New York City, East side;

The rumbles from another train passed through the massive walls of the terminal blockhouse, but Dr. Karen Jenson barely paused from her work, quite used to the noise. She sat peering through a high-powered microscope occasionally reaching over to pick up a tube or some other object from the table.

Karen�s ebony skin tone and alluring features fit more of a fashion model than that of a medical professional, in particularly a virologist; whose main works kept her away from the normal life she sometimes missed. After the Deacon Frost incident, she dedicated herself to finding a complete cure to what was known in folklore as �vampirism�, an anomaly or craving fro the taste of human blood. She knew better though and though further research she managed to develop a cure for the virus that caused the mutation.

Or so she thought.

Apparently her vaccine, just like Whistler�s, could only suppress it. There came several opportunities to administer the drug to captured victims, but it was found that the virus could mutate and overcome the effects of her serum.

And so she continued the research, working daily at the hospital, then half the evenings on this. Karen knew though that her research was very important, and if she could find a way to neutralize the mutations, it would be a big step in wining this silent war raging throughout the world.

But that was only part of the reason why she continued to work so hard.

Drawing back, Karen let out a sigh and passed a frustrated hand though her hair. The strain on her eyes was starting a headache and she decided to take a break and relax for a moment. She looked around in search of her companion and protector, but he was nowhere too be found amid the equipment and machinery.

�Eric?� called Karen. There came no answer and she stood up from the stool. �I know that man can hear me,� she muttered lightly to herself as she walked towards the next aisle. �He can hear three times better than�.�

�In here, Karen,� called a deep, somewhat hoarse voice from one of the rooms ahead.

She peered in and found it dimly lit by the glow from the large screen television across the room. In a large cushioned chair with his back too her sat a muscular black man dressed in dark clothes, sporting a crew cut style haircut, combat boots and breastplate body armor. His gaze was locked on the events playing across the screen; gloved hands clasped together tapping his chin in an unconscious rhythm.

�Oh, I see we�re going out?� said Karen.

�I was,� replied Eric Blade.

�What stopped you?�

Blade stopped tapping his chin pointing both index fingers at the television. She looked at it, noticing that the sound had been turned down almost to nothing then at him, smirking.

�I don�t see how you can see anything wearing those thick sunglasses. In a dark room no less.�

Slowly, Eric reached up and pulled the shades off then gave her a shrewd smile.

�I�m half vampire, remember?� he replied.

Karen laughed. �So what�s so good that Eric Blade has put a hold on his nightly activities?�

Blade turned the volume back up so she could hear the newscaster.

[--apparently the four college students had been forcibly taken, bound, then attacked by a large wolf or dog.]

�Oh my goodness,� gasped Karen.

�Sound familiar?� asked Blade.

�Where is this?�

�Japan. Tokyo to be exact.�

Karen sat down on one of the armrest, stunned by the news. �Four. This is horrible.�

�There�s more,� continued Blade, nodding at the screen.

[The current death toll has risen to ten now with the recent additions. Tokyo Police have issued a warning to all colleges and schools throughout the city to be on the lookout for any unusual signs of the animal. Police units are working with the Animal Control division in a search for the elusive creature. Additionally, it is recommended that citizens of Tokyo clear the streets between the hours of ten p.m. to six a.m.]

Blade turned the volume back down. He waited for Karen�s shock to pass before speaking.

�It�s a vampire,� he said to her.

�Obviously, and very hungry I must add.�

�Hm. Maybe I should reword my last comment. It is vampires.�

Karen leaned back eyeing him for a moment. Without a word Blade got up and went over to the table near the television and picked up several newspaper clippings. He handed them to her, and Karen began leafing through them.

�A couple in Hibiya Park, one man near the east docks of Yokohama.� She read through a few more before looking up. �Eric, there are more that just ten victims here.�

�Yeah, and that bothers me too. This new attack though, this is interesting.�

�Why?�

�Four victims? Normally vampires needs but one to sedate their lust for a few days.�

Karen thought about that. �You�re right. Unless our vampires had not had a decent, and I hate too put it this way, meal in some time.�

�Someone who came into the country� an Old Blood?�

The suggestion raised their brows, dreading the thought of another original vampire running rampant in the bowels of a mega-metropolis like Tokyo. It could be a disaster akin to a major earthquake only with more far-reaching results.

�Do you have any current updates on the major Old Bloods loose in the world?� asked Blade.

�We can look,� answered Karen.

The only good thing that resulted from the termination of Deacon Frost and his nefarious cult was the massive worldwide database linked to his computers. Karen, through several personal channels, managed to acquire the hardrives and from them led Blade to the known stomping grounds of the vampire underworld. The pair soon found themselves staring at a computer monitor, Karen typing several queries into the database.

In moments the information they requested came up on the screen.

�Let�s see here,� said Karen while reading the display. �Frost eliminated most of the upper state Trues, so that cuts them out of the loop.�

�What about Asia?� asked Blade.

The displays scrolled up.

�A few. Mostly up in the northern chain. Hokkaido mainly. Maintaining their status quo as per the treaty.�

That part rankled Blade�s nerves. The secret treaty was much of a rumor until the New York True Blood Sect had been brought down. It irked him that government politicians would strike deals with vampires, allowing them certain freedoms in exchange for controlled spread of the vampire community. Those that went against it were swiftly eliminated, by their own or by other means. He swore that once the last vampire had been eliminated, these so-called officials would be rooted out and exposed.

�Blade,� Karen�s voice said, breaking him from his thoughts.

�Yes?�

�You�re not listening to me.�

�Oh. Sorry.�

Karen smiled lightly as she went back to the information.

�Now it appears that the Asian vampires have not broken territories. The Western European sect is still in place. Central America is quiet, although they did loose one true not too long ago.�

�Really. Who killed him?�

�Suicide. No known reason why.�

�Heh, heh, must�a heard I was coming to town.�

�Jokes?� questioned Karen, eyeing him with a humorous gaze.

�I have some humor in me.�

�Anyway,� continued Karen. �Eastern Europe, cradle of vampires, seems to be silent as�.�

The sudden pause meant trouble to Blade. �What is it?� he asked.

�Hmm, seems that we have a drifter here.�

�Name.�

A file was quickly called up.

�Malenkov Rimialdi, an old true from the Romanian-Ukrainian border. Last marker on him is Vladivostok.�

They gazed upon the dim image on the screen; Blade narrowing his eyes as he studied what features that were distinguishable.

�Age?�

�By date, very old,� answered Karen. �Notes here say he might have links to Dracula himself.�

The mere mention of the grand vampire himself marked that much more urgency of the situation to Blade. He frowned as his mind ran dark scenarios through his head.

�What the hell is a Eastern European Vampire doing in Japan of all places?� he wondered.

�Apparently he�s made this trek before, Eric,� said Karen. She pointed to a paragraph on the screen.

�Damn.�

Karen smiled lightly. �He must have a thing for Oriental blood.�

�That�s not funny, Karen,� replied Blade. �If this joker is left to his own devices, Japan is in serious trouble.�

�Then why don�t we let the Old Bloods there take care of him? If it�s him.�

�What do you mean �if�?�

She shook her head slowly while recalling up the dates and times of Rimialdi�s last sightings. �He still had a long way to go to reach Japan. Let�s rule out flying due to customs inspections and scanners. Barring daylight time, it would have taken him at least a month undercover to travel that distance.�

�So?�

Karen turned around on the stool. �The attacks are only two days apart average, longer than a month.�

Blade sneered, shaking his head in frustration.

�Another cult,� he finally said, slamming a fist hard into the palm of his hand.

�And if Rimialdi is heading them up, we are going to have our hands full tracking him down,� finished Karen.

Silently, Blade walked over to the window and looked out across the skyline. He knew there was only one thing for him to do, and the dangers that accompanied it were staked heavily against him. It would take some time, not too mention careful work, hunting down this Old Blood. Odds never were ever in his favor, but Eric Blade always found a way to tip them around.

�My hands are going to be full, yes Karen,� he said.

Karen eyed him catching the change. �What do you mean just you?� she asked.

�I want you to stay here and continue working on that serum.�

�But I think you�re going too�.�

�No.� said Blade firmly. He turned, pulling his shades off so she could see the seriousness in his eyes. �I need you to work on that cure. It is much to important for all of us.�

That did not sit well with Karen. �Eric Blade. Storming off to Japan into god only knows what kind of mess alone is pure suicide. You barely survived our last big encounter, remember?�

�I remember. But now you are close. It�d be a shame if you ended up getting killed before completing your work, now wouldn�t it?�

Something pulled at Karen�s emotions, a cold feeling that foretold trouble lurking in the wings. She walked over and quietly placed her arms around Eric, holding him tight. He stood speechless, surprised by her warmth, by the need in him to return the feelings he knew burned in his heart. Now was not the time though. There was a war to be won.

�Eric, please�.�

�Karen, that cure is important. I need you here.�

Karen looked up, a shimmer of tears building in her eyes. Eric smiled. Gently, he rubbed her chin bringing a smile to her face.

�I�ll be alright. Now you be strong for me, okay?�

She nodded, giving him another firm hug before drawing back.

�I guess I better make arrangements for your trip.�

�Yeah. While you�re doing that, I�m going to pack and make sure all of my credentials are in order. Going to be hard sneaking any hardware past customs without the proper papers.�

Karen laughed, shaking her head as she headed for the door.

�What�s so funny?� he asked.

�Jokes. I never thought I�d ever hear them from you,� she replied.

Karen left the room, leaving Blade alone with his thoughts. He pondered the job at hand, eyes cutting back over to the monitor and the information on it. Fighting new bloods was one thing, fighting old bloods was another. This would certainly bring on the wrath from them world wide, but if Rimialdi was up to no good, then he had to be stopped.

Flexing his hands, Blade left to prepare himself for the trip ahead�

* * * * *

Phoenix, Arizona;

Sorrow loves a dark place�

Yeah, yeah, that seems to be my current life style. All dark, all sorrow.

All death.

The dim form of a lithe, well-toned woman slowly sat up on the porch swing, rustling the dried crust of sleep from her eyes. She sighed thinking again about all of the past deeds in her life, brushing a strand of her short blonde hair back into place. The trail of blood and death left in her wake that extended all the way from Hollywood to Central America.

Grace Kimball gazed up at the starry skies wishing that time could be rewound like so many videos she�d ever seen. Her troubled past continued to haunt her, people killed by her mere presence, dark faces that accused her of murder, of unfounded emotions and guilt.

And of betrayal.

Sometimes she thought it would be better for everyone if she just stayed up and watch the sunrise. A painful, yet clean and final solution especially when you were a vampire. However; there were also people who needed her alive. Not because of her affliction, but for protection against incorrigibles both Vampories and living. There were evil people who would stop at nothing to destroy the research being conducted in the underground laboratory below this house.

�Grace?� called a gentlemanly voice from the doorway.

She looked back a bit, hearing the screen door open, footsteps moving up beside the swing.

�Grace why are you here in the darkness?� said the man.

Grace looked up at Judson Land, her mentor and now close friend. The darkness did little too obscure his features; stout barrel chest and hawk like chin giving him an imposing impression. However, he gave her a gentle smile that went against all that.

�I�m enjoying the starlight, Judson,� she answered him, gazing back out at the horizon.

Land knew well why she chose to be out here, and it wasn�t about stargazing. He sat down and draped an arm around her.

�Grace, you know lying to me is useless,� he said.

She smirked. �You�re not going to lecture me again are you?�

�Should I, or do you want to talk about it?�

Damn his common sense, thought Grace. She was silent then a tear slowly started running down one cheek.

�It is Gregory, is it not?� he asked.

�That� that and other things.�

Judson smiled again. He hugged her and she did not resist feeling the need for comfort in her cold world. Grace trembled feeling alone and afraid.

�You must let your past rest, Grace,� said Judson.

His gentle tone settled her and she looked up. �I miss him, Judson. I really do miss him.�

�It was not your fault that Gregory died the way he did.�

Grace pushed herself away and stood up. She went over to the railing and leaned up against one of the post. Judson allowed her time to think, and then she said in a low voice, �It was my fault. Everything is my fault.�

�No, don�t say that.�

Grace rounded on him. �What else can I say, Judson? Oh, it wasn�t my fault Greg fell in love with me! No, it wasn�t my fault that he wanted to be like us? Or, or, should I blame him for allowing me to turn him, huh?�

Land started to answer, but Grace turned her back on him again. �No,� she said sadly. �I caused all those things. My Godfather, he was a result of me. Greg� Greg and his� his child another byproduct of my stupidity.�

The last few months had been hard on her, Judson could see. Even after destroying all trace of their existence at the Yuma research facility, the dark memories lurked still in her mind. He wondered how long Grace could hold on to her sanity.

By the looks of things not much longer.

�Grace,� he said moving up behind her. �Let us not�.�

�I want to die.�

That stunned Land, but he hid his reaction. �You don�t mean that?�

�I do.�

�So you want Gregory�s death to be all for nothing?�

Grace turned. �What?�

�Do you think he would want you to just give up?�

She shrugged, �I wouldn�t know what Greg would have wanted from me,� she replied.

Judson allowed a few minutes of silence to pass between them before standing up. Grace did not want to confront him again, and turned away leaning up against the post. He smiled, reflecting upon the woman and all of the innocence he saw in her. Grace Kimball was merely a child compared to him, a youngster still trying too find herself in this; a new strange world.

Well he knew what she destined for, and it was now time to refocus her efforts and renew her purpose in this life.

�Grace, you are wrong about Gregory. He would not have allowed you too give up. He knew you were having a hard time adapting to you current condition, and he also knew what difficulties were ahead when he became one of us.� Land moved closer, gently rubbing her shoulders. �I also know that he loved you very much, and that he wanted the both of you to live together for as long as it would have been possible.�

�Oh great, that really helps,� commented Grace with a deep sigh.

�No� don�t you see?� said Judson. He turned her around, staring deep into her eyes. �Gregory knew you were different, special, someone who cared about more than just hunting down the next meal.�

Grace frowned. �What are you talking about, Judson?�

�Come,� said Judson, motioning for her to follow him. �We must go back down to the laboratory.�

�What�s there?�

�You will see.�

Grace followed Judson back inside. They went down into his converted basement where more of her newly found friends gathered around a computer monitor. Doctor Jeremy Standish sat in the middle chair; a thin, wiry man, bald on top, his body hunched low in the seat. Beside him sat Tracy Kurtz, plain-Jane associate and fellow doctor in the research of the Vampories virus spreading silently through the population of mankind.

�What�s on?� joked Grace.

Standish chuckled lightly, but his gaze remained locked on the monitor. �Not the Late Show. This is something much more serious than that.�

Grace peered over his shoulder. On the screen was the electronic version of the L.A. Times. The articles on it scrolled slowly up as the two doctors read.

�Hmm,� sounded Standish. �Tracy, this appears to be another case of vampories run amok.�

�Looks that way, Stan,� replied Tracy. She leaned closer to the screen, adjusting her glasses. �A serial killer on the loose like that is not normal.�

�What are you two talking about?� asked Grace.

�We�re talking about a series of murders in Tokyo, Grace,� said Standish.

�Judson brought this to our attention after seeing it on the news,� added Tracy.

Still lost, Grace began reading the article. Slowly her expression shifted into shock as she read the details of the crime. A cold feeling rushed through her and she drew back letting out a long huff.

�Are you sure this was done by a vampire?� she finally asked them.

Standish shrugged, getting up from his chair. �Throats slashed, maybe not, but having all of their blood drained from their body sure does raise a flag in my mind.�

�It might be a cult.�

�Maybe,� replied Standish.

�It�s not the first one either,� said Judson.

He pulled out some newspapers from atop one of the cabinets and handed them too her. Grace quickly flipped through the marked articles, and then looked up. �This vampire has been on a rampage, hasn�t he?�

�He, she, we don�t know,� said Standish.

�But we think it�s a mixture of both,� Tracy said.

�Huh?�

Tracy told Grace to open up the article from two weeks ago. �Notice the report on that one,� she explained. �Several bite marks, and all along the major arteries.�

That made Grace grimace. She closed the paper and set it aside. �Okay, I�ll ask the next obvious question. Why, and what does this have to do with us?�

�We�re curious,� answered Standish. �More so, a bit afraid.�

�Afraid, Doc? After all you�ve seen, you�re afraid?�

A serious look appeared on the doctor�s face. �Grace, I�m not afraid for myself, but more so for the entire population of Japan.�

�Meaning?�

�Meaning,� said Judson. �It appears our Asian vampire brethren are planning something big, Grace. These killings, there is no set pattern except for one, and that is all the victims are not being allowed to turn. All of the blood is being drained from their bodies.�

That was true. Grace did not like the sound of this one bit. If the vampires in Tokyo were gathering blood, the question now was why, and who was heading this new movement? Surly the police would be able to discover them, but unless they knew how to destroy vampires their efforts would be wasted.

She suddenly smiled, casting a knowing glare upon Judson. �Is this what you meant by my being �different�?�

Judson shrugged. �You, Grace Kimball, are slated for grander things in life.�

�Oh stop it. You make me sound like a superhero.�

�Well, I think you are,� said Tracy.

�So what do you say, kid?� asked Standish.

�What? Me go over there and root this out?�

�You are a detective.�

�I was a detective.�

An uncomfortable silence passed.

�Grace,� Tracy suddenly said. �I don�t know about you, but if the vampires in Japan are planning some kind of uprising, I think somebody should go over and at best talk some sense into them.�

�And if talking does not work?�

�That�s why we think you�re the best person for the job, Grace,� answered Standish. �Sorry.�

Grace smirked turning away from them. As she thought about it, her eyes locked back down on the stack of papers lying on the counter top. Sure, innocent people are being slaughtered, vampires running amok across one of the largest metropolises in Asia. Somebody has to stop them�

�So how do I get over to Tokyo?� she asked.

�I have connections, Grace,� said Judson. �Everything will be taken care of.�

�And once I get there?�

�Do what you do best.�

Kimball laughed. �Odd way of putting it, Judson.�

She paused thinking about the events again. �When do I go?�

�Tomorrow night,� said Standish.

�You guys had this all planned out from the beginning.�

�Kind�of.�

�Sneaky, doc, very sneaky. Well I better go and gather up what I�ll need.�

Tracy suddenly called tossing her a thick book. Grace read the cover and frowned.

� �How to Speak Japanese�?�

�You�re going to have to talk to somebody over there, aren�t you?�

�Good thinking, Tracy. I�ll absorb this on the way over� however that may be.�

Judson placed a confiding arm around her shoulders again. �Have no fear, Grace Kimball. How does it go? You�re in good hands with Judson Land,� he said with a laugh.

�I�ll believe that when I reach Japan,� she replied as they walked back up the steps�

ONI�S BLOOD

Part One: Distant Callings