Sisterhood.

The location was Tokyo. The room was bright and well lit which was unusual for the subject matter being discussed. - extortion, racketteering and murder. The people discussing these topics were also slightly unusual given the content of the conversations - all were women. At the head of the table sat a middle aged Japanese woman who was immaculately dressed in a designer label woman’s business suit from a western fashion house. Despite her age she was often mistaken for a woman ten years younger. She spoke softly but with an air of authority which held the entire ensemble in her thrall. The words were Japanese which added a resonant ring to the proceedings.

"And finally Michiko we come to your local difficulty" the woman said sweetly to a younger woman who fidgeted uncomfortablly in her chair.

Michiko Tatewaki bowed her head whilst she spoke. "Madam. I had no way of knowing that the police were so aware of our operations. And, as for American police officer, I had him interrogated as soon as I heard he was in Japan. Another few minutes and the problem would have been dealt with.

The woman in the business suit smiled benignly. "Nevertheless an important arm of our operation has been compromised and you were responsible for ensuring that it wasn’t. I am very sorry Michiko but you know our rules".

Michiko bowed her head further. "Please Madam. I have served you faithfully for nearly four years and it has been my only mistake". She started to sob softly to herself.

The woman in the smart business suit stood, stretched out her arm and gently raised Michiko’s head. "Do not weep. Do not show weakness. Die with honour". She nodded to another woman seated next to the unfortunate Michiko.

Miho Ishida looked at the woman sat next to her. She had always liked Michiko but now she had the opportunity of progressing in the organisation known as ‘The Sisterhood Yakuza’. The gun was concealed in a purse she had brought to the meeting. She opened the catch on the purse and removed her favoured black automatic . She moved the gun so that it was resting against Michiko’s temple. The older woman nodded and Miho Ishida pulled the trigger. Michiko slumped lifeless on to the table.

The middle aged woman sat down again and addressed the meeting. "You all know the price of failure. You all have your orders. Please carry them out with speed and thoroughness". The other women began scurrying from the room. The middle aged woman turned to Miho Ishida "Not you . You are now my Number Two. We have more things to discuss including the recruitment of some new operatives. But first deal with that mess on the table".

"Yes Madam" said Miho Ishida.

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The man in the bedroom was a bit too portly for the red silk pajamas he was squeezed in to. He lay on the bed with two thoughts pre-occupying him The first was the dumb Japanese broad who’d marched into his club a few days earlier demanding a cut of his takings. Hell, didn’t these people know who he was. Carlo Panelli, one of the big time hoods in the city of Los Angeles. He took money not gave it away. If he hadn’t found it so funny she’d have left in a coffin he thought to himself.

His second thought was of the pleasures which lay ahead that evening. The hooker he’d hired hadn’t come cheap but at the same time he had quite unusual tastes in women and this one just fitted the bill - blonde, long legged, wearing a tight black leather dress and kitted out in his own favourite accessories of black gloves and.thigh length boots. The phone next to the bed rang and he picked it up.

"Yeah" he grunted.

"Exclusive Escorts here. I don’t know how to tell you this but I’ve just had a phone call from the police. The woman you asked for has been found dead. Shot. I’m sorry Mr. Panelli I’ll see if we can find someone else who meets your tastes".

"What are you talking about? She’s right....". He saw the woman standing in the doorway. She was still dressed the way he demanded but now, held in her gloved right hand, was a large silvery gun with a heavy duty silencer attached to the barrel.

‘"Put the phone down" she said icily.

He hesitated slightly. PFFT, a bullet slammed into the wall behind him. Now he complied without hesitation.

"Good" she said. "You were very rude to some friends of mine. I’m here to show you some respect".

"Listen, I’ll have...".

PFFT. The gun spat again and a red bloodstain appeared on Carlo Panelli’s red silk pajamas. He choked and wheezed as he fought for his breath. "Don’t bother" said the woman "we’ll deal with your sucessor". The woman moved closer the gun held tightly in her petite gloved hands. PFFT, PFFT.

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The woman the others simply called Madam and Miho Ishida were alone in the office. Miho Ishida bowed her head respectfully as she spoke to her boss. "I have news to report. Our new American operative has dealt with the problem in Los Angeles. We should have no more trouble from there".

"Good, you have done well. That just leaves the fools who are holding out here. I want our best people to deal with the situation here do you understand?".

"Megumi,Kazumi and Kristy?" asked Miho Ishida.

"Megumi,Kazumi and Kristy" the middle aged woman replied. "And don’t forget I deal with the Clan Head.

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It was highly unusual for somebody who was not Japanese to work for the Yakuza. Jimmy Chang was one of these ambiguities. He’d worked his way up from the bottom. From foot soldier to running the nightclubs in downtown Tokyo. He had done well and he was still only twenty seven.

Kristy had also done well for herself and like Chang she too was Chinese. She’d progressed from foot soldier to one of the Sisterhood Yakuza’s top assasins. She had positioned herself on a low level rooftop just opposite Chang’s appartment block. She knew he was a habit of creature so when he left the building at nine thirty with his two bodyguards she was waiting. One final check through the sighting scope of the high powered rifle confirmed his identity. The first shot killed the first bodyguard instantly. The second was just reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket when her second shot felled him also. Jimmy Chang had just started to run for his life when her third shot hit him in the back and threw him to the ground. For a moment he lay there fearing paralysis. However Kristy had no intention of leaving the situation as it was. She concentrated as she sighted on him with slightly more precision. Once again the report of the rifle echoed around the street and Jimmy Chang’s head disintegrated into a mass of blood and hair. "Good shot" she thought to herself.

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Around the same time Ita Mitsuru was jogging in a park, it helped to clear his head. He couldn’t fail to notice the woman walking ahead of him towards the park’s exit gates. Dressed in finest motorcycle leathers and with fine chisled features she looked the epitome of youthful, modern Japanese womanhood. A Yamaha motorbike, which was presumably hers, stood parked just outside the gates. As he jogged past her he turned and shouted a greeting. She reciprocated with a warm smile and feeling happy with himself he continued his jog. Her hand reached into the waistband of her black leather trousers and pulled out a heavy black automatic. She adopted a shooting stance. Slightly crouching and the gun held firmly in a double handed grip. BANG. BANG. BANG. Three bullets in the back. She threw the gun to the ground, ran to the Yamaha and dissappeared into Tokyo’s teeming traffic. Kazumi had completed her deadly work.

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Nakai Shingo also followed a set routine. Today was a Wednesday which meant he was in his private room of a traditional Japanese Geiko House being served with a light breakfast. He sat cross legged on the floor deep in meditation and thought. There was a ruffle as the bamboo curtain opened and a petite woman dressed in traditional Geiko attire appeared. The white silk kimono hid almost all of her body except for her head. The strong white make up was not mandated at this early hour of the day and the full features of her pert beautiful face were visible. In her hands was a food tray. He could see the steam from the small dumplings he had asked for and the Bento box which contained the rest of his order. The woman bowed and he nodded his assent that he was ready to eat. The woman moved forward and opened the box. Her small hand reached inside. When it returned to view it was holding a small nickel plated pistol with a small cylindrical silencer.

"No, no don’t" he yelled.

The woman bowed again but the aim of the pistol never wavered. PFFT. A bullet struck him in the chest and he fell to the floor. The man struggled towards the door. The woman circled in front of him to block his exit. She lowered the gun gracefully, this time aiming directly at his head. PFFT, PFFT, PFFT. She looked at the blood stained kimino, cursed and began to unravel it from her. body Underneath she was wearing a black mini skirt. She pushed the gun into the waistband of the skirt and exited hastily out of the back of the house.

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Katori Takuya had heard the news of what had happened to his business associates later that day. He was in shock. Three of his most trusted and experienced lieutenants had been killed. He pondered. Who would dare do this? Who would have the audacity? At this moment his whole organisation was in tatters, ripe for a takeover by a rival clan. His whole life was falling apart. Who would be next? Him, his wife? "My God, I haven’t warned my wife" he thought. He ran to the phone and jabbed frantically at the number pad. The phone rang. Four times, six times, eight times. "Oh my God, she’s already dead" he thought. After the tenth ring she finally answered.

"Listen, do exactly what I say. We are in great danger. Pack your belongings and wait for me in the house. I’ll be there in half an hour".

"But...".

"Don’t argue. Just do as I say. I love you. I could never bear for anything to happen to you. Just do exactly what I say. Don’t open the door to anyone. Please. Promise. Don’t open the door to anyone except me".

"All right but.."

"I am coming over right now. Just stay put".

He slammed down the phone and quickly opened the drawer to his desk. His automatic was secreted inside. He removed it, checked it for bullets and put it into his jacket. Within minutes he was driving through Tokyo’s city centre towards his home. At the traffic lights a Yamaha motor cycle pulled alongside. He could just distinguish a feminine form beneath the tight fitting leather clothing and crash helmet and in his mind he pictured what had happened to his trusted lieutenant Ita Matsuru. Whether she was one of the mystery assassins or whether she wasn't he was takeing no chances. The lights changed and he drove off furiously.

When he got to the house he was happy to see the outward signs of normality. He opened the front door and entered the vast hall. He rushed upstairs to the main bedroom. He pulled the gun from his jacket fearing the worst. To his relief his wife was sitting at the dressing table applying some make up.

"Thank God" he said.

She saw the gun in his hand and looked worried. Despite fifteen years of marriage he had never really explained what he did for a living, just that his fortune came from high powered business deals. Well that was almost true. What was undoubtably true was that he loved his wife very much, a feeling as strong now as when he had first met her.

There was a knock at the front door.

"Stay here" he urged.

"Katori what’s happening? We must answer it. It’s proably Yukio, we arranged to go shopping this afternoon".

Katori Takuya looked at his wife. So innocent, so trusting. Still so beautiful.

"No, it is best that we don’t" he said.

"But Yukio.."

"All right. I’ll see if it’s her. But even if it is we are still leaving here. Understand?"

His wife frowned. He fingered the safety catch of the gun to the off position and crept downstairs. The front door was a solidly built wooden door and would give no indication who was present either side. Fortunately he had the advantage of a built in spy hole. He flipped open the cover and looked outside. He could see a young woman. Certainly not Yukio.

"Put down your gun and open the door Katori".

He turned. His wife was standing a few feet from him at the base of the stairs. A large automatic held in her grip.

"I said put down your gun and open the door" his wife said. Her automatic inched upwards into alignment with his heart.

More in shock than in fear he did what he was told. He unlocked the bolt on the heavy wooden door tna a young woman entered.

"Hello Miho Ishida"

"Hello Madam" the young woman said duitifully

His wife looked at him sorrowfully, the gun still held tightly in the palm of her hand. "I’m sorry Katori. You have your secrets and I have mine. Tomorrow your entire organisation will belong to me.".

"What about me?" he said simply. "I love you".

"I know. That is why you get a last cigarette. Me. Take it or leave it".

He stammered "No matter what happens you will always be special to me. I’ll take it".

The young woman picked up the gun he had discarded and the three of them went upstairs. His wife led him into the bedroom whilst the other woman locked the door and stood guard outside. Inside the room were just him and his wife. She smiled and beckoned him to her. This afternoon would be his last and he was being allowed to spend it with the woman he loved and who was about to extinguish his life.

He made love to his wife as often and as strongly as his body allowed. Two hours? Three hours of sheer ecstasy? He had lost all track of time. Exhausted by his exertions he finally sank into a troublesome slumber. His wife pulled on her nightgown and knocked on the door. The door unlocked and Katori Takuya entered the room. Katori Takuya’s wife nodded sorrowfully at her husband lying in the bed and left the room. Miho approached the bed, the black automatic held proficiently in her hand. She raised the barrel of the gun in line with the man’s outline beneath the bed clothes.

Outside the room the woman heard four shots and she choked back a pang of remorse and regret. The door opened and Miho Ishida came out. "It is done Madam".

The woman smiled. "Well done but hurry. Business is business and we still have work to do" she said simply.