A well-dressed Japanese man whose smile resembled a shark's and whose eyes did not hide the fact that he was nothing more than a thug dressed up in a three-piece suit waited patiently in the reception area of Caroline Granger's office. He'd been told at least a dozen times in the hour and a half that he'd been waiting that Ms Granger was a very busy woman and without an appointment, he would most likely not be able to see her.

His command of English wasn't the best but he knew when a pretty girl was giving him the brush off, and his mood had slowly soured as he waited. Finally, after waiting for two hours to see the head of the GrangerGuild Conglomerate, he stood angrily and thrust the letter written by his oyabun at the girl who'd barred Ms Granger's door to him. "Give this to Granger leader," he growled in broken English, and stalked off, leaving the uncomfortably well-appointed offices behind him and returning to the Organisation's headquarters in Dockside.

Should Ms Granger ever receive the letter, it would read:

Ms Caroline Granger, CEO GrangerGuild Conglomerate:

My name is Mitsugu Ryu and I am the head of a charitable organisation, headquartered in Kyoto, Japan. Recently, my associates have learned of a plot to interrupt GrangerGuild productions, hurt your employees and even hijack shipments. We are prepared to offer our services in order to protect GrangerGuild from this threat. In exchange for a monthly stipend, we will ensure that your employees are safe from harm, your deliveries reach their destinations intact, and your facilities are free from sabotage.

I would like to call on you at your offices soon. Please courteously reply to this letter and inform me of a convenient time for us to meet. Remember, this threat is real and I would hate to see such a profitable business such as the GrangerGuild Conglomerate fall into ruin because you did not act right away.

Sincerely, 貢龍 Mitsugu Ryu

GrangerGuild Dyeing Workshop, Seven Crossings, Rhy'Din. 07:35 RST.

"Oh, wait, hey ..." The voice called out from across the street, familiar enough that Gwen laughed and drew to a halt in her struggle with the door to the main workshop. "Let me get that for you."

Jorgi, the foreman of the workshop, appeared over her shoulder, reaching to heave the heavy door open and stand aside to let Gwen negotiate the threshold with her wheelchair. As ever, Mr Squiggles - the rescued spider monkey Dominic had insisted was a gift for her - was perched on the disabled woman's shoulder, offering his own form of advice in little chittering protests each time the chair lurched or stuck in place.

"Thanks, Jorgi," Gwen smiled up at one of the many men and women she worked with on a daily basis. "Bit early for you to be out and about, isn't it' I thought you had a nice warm fella to keep you in bed."

Jorgi's weathered face split into an evil grin as he shook his head, moving to walk alongside Gwen's chair, further into the workshop. "I''m working, Mrs Granger," he said innocently. "If I stayed for a lie-in, I would definitely be late."

Gwen chuckled, shaking her head. "Oh, the joys of an abandoned sex life," she grinned, swatting at the man as he obviously realised just what he'd said and to whom. "Oh, don't get your panties twisted, Jorgi. Just because I'm in a chair, that's no reason to think that I don't jump Dom's bones whenever I can."

"Ah, see, I wondered why even when he's home we don't see him out much," Jorgi snorted with laughter, leaning his hip against one of the many worktables. "So why are we here so early?"

Gwen snorted with laughter. "I have no idea why you're here, but I'm here to get an eyes on the new batik."

As Jorgi nodded, very aware of how important it was that the new batiks came out well, a number of things happened all at once. A staccato blast of sound penetrated the quiet workshop; the glass in the windows shattered, the wood and wattle splintering as bullets slammed into it; across the span of the worktables, employees fell, many of them bleeding from severe wounds, screams filling the disturbed quiet of the workshop.

Without thinking, Jorgi lurched forward on top of Gwen, knocking both woman and wheelchair sideways onto the floor as he crouched over them. Beyond the window, he just caught a glimpse of a car speeding past, indistinct figures leaning back inside.

"What the hell -?" He shifted, looking down at Gwen in concern. "Are you okay?"

Shaken but unharmed, Gwen nodded hurriedly. "I'm fine," she assured him. "What happened?"

Without answering, Jorgi lurched to his feet, accelerating toward the doorway. He wanted to at least get a registration plate number off the bastards who did this; he doubted they'd be polite enough to stop and get out of the car so he could beat them all to crap. Skidding out onto the street, he stared after the rapidly disappearing vehicle, throwing up his hands in frustration.

"Bastards!" was yelled impotently after them as the car wheeled around the far corner and out of sight. Sighing, dangerously oblivious to everything but his own fury, Jorgi turned back toward the workshop. He never saw the second car coming.

Clipped and thrown into the gutter, broken bone showing through the skin of his leg and blood pouring out frighteningly fast, he stared into space, dazed and shocked. Unfamiliar voices were shouting in a language he didn't recognise, a fast series of words that sounded angry and hurried over what sounded like bottles breaking, thrown somewhere.

He turned his head toward the workshop, watching helplessly as men ran from the building, leaving all those inside still screaming in fear and pain. One flicked a lighter open, lit it, threw it in through the shattered window ....and a white ball of fire exploded from inside the workshop, sending debris flying in all directions. The men scrambled back into their car and drove off, leaving behind them nothing but chaos, pain ....and death.

Friday, 17th June.

The sun was shining. Caroline felt that was highly inappropriate. The weather should have shown a little respect for Dominic's grief as they gathered to say goodbye to his wife. The chapel had been full of people; family and friends, and a vast number of security guards, just in case. It made her feel ashamed of her surprise at the number of people who showed up. She should have known how well liked Gwen had been, how many would miss her in the days and weeks to come.

Yet even now, standing before the Granger Mausoleum, listening to the priest commit her cousin's wife to eternal rest, she couldn't keep her mind on the solemn occasion. Her thoughts turned constantly to the attack that had killed so many, to the investigation which had so far given them nothing to work with, to the fire she'd lit up the arses of the mages in R&D. Now more than ever, the Grangers and the Guild needed the safety net those men and women were working on.

She was angry, raging, furious, with herself and with the people who had attacked her own. This Mitsugu Ryu, whoever he was, was going to pay for what he had done to them. Never before had she wanted revenge with such a cold spirit. Even Anubis Karos had never earned her blind hatred in this manner. But Anubis Karos had not killed dozens of innocent people, just to make a point.

Her attention was caught by a small group of men standing off to one side, detached from the larger group of mourners. Their stance was respectful, yet they each wore brightly coloured suits, and their eyes were, for the most part, trained on her. And they were all of Earth Asian origin. There was only one explanation for who they were, and why they were here.

Caroline's eyes narrowed in mute fury. How dare they' How dare they have the nerve to come here, to the funeral of one of their victims" Did they really think that this was going to work, that she would capitulate to their demands just because they offered a silent threat at a vulnerable hour"

Leaving her cousins to stay beside Dom, she stepped backward, out of their line of sight, and lifted her hand to her mouth, speaking quietly into the little communicator that had been carefully inserted into her watch. It offered her a direct link to her personal bodyguards' earpieces, a way of telling them that she needed them on the occasions when they had to let her out of their sight.

"Don't make a scene," she instructed softly. "When the group breaks up, just make sure none of those bastards get past the boundary of Maple Grove. They are not welcome to the wake."

A small affirmative nod, imperceptible if you were not looking for it, was offered to her in return, and she stepped back to her cousins. Her eyes did not flicker toward the brightly-colored group again.

So they thought they could intimidate her, did they' Whoever they were, this group of racketeers was about to find out that Caroline Granger could be as hard as diamond when the occasion called for it.

She hadn't even been aware of the older man's presence, much less his approach, until confronted with a wall of black-suited backs, shielding her and every other Granger in the cemetary from the eyes of those who had harmed them. There really was something very undignified about having to rise onto your toes to peer over the shoulder of a bodyguard, just to see who was talking to you.

Her eyes, already rimmed with red and dark with grief, hardened as her gaze fell on wakagashira. He was stone-still, his irreverent companions gathering behind him at various levels of aggressive belligerence. But there was something there that stayed her from simply turning away, dismissing them from her mind. Perhaps a peaceful solution could be reached, after all.

With a gentle touch on Wilbert's arm, she eased herself forward between the wall of bodies to stand open before the older man, ignoring his companions as her security closed ranks behind her. If this was not handled well, there would be more grief to spread through the city.

"It should never have happened," she said coldly, addressing her words to the wakagashira and no other. "Forgive me if I do not consider it appropriate that men involved with those who killed my people took it upon themselves to come to a family funeral."

She studied him carefully even as she spoke. The words had needed to be said. It was now his choice whether this would dissolve into unnecessary violence, or remain civil.

Caroline could not believe what she was hearing. Fury rose in her like an avenging Valkyrie, lending a strength to her voice that would not otherwise have been there.

"Excuse me" You have the gall to stand there and tell me that if your guys had had this Ryu-san's blessings to kill my people, my cousin's wife, then it would have been all fine and dandy' You're asking for peace when you declared war on me and mine" And don't even get me started on trying to butter up the bereaved with a present!"

Ignoring the restraining cough uttered by Wilbert, Caroline glowered at Kōtetsu, all but glowing with rage and grief. Her hands clenched - how dearly she would like to plant a smacker on this smug arsehole's jaw.

"You and your precious Ryu-san have shown your colors," she spat venomously. "You're nothing but petty criminals; you'll try to intimidate and blackmail, and when that doesn't work, you don't give a rat's a** about killing innocent people. My people. You're not here to honor anything but your own inflated ego; if you cared at all about the pain you've inflicted, you wouldn't dare to show your face to me. Or bring your gimps to desecrate a sacred place with their bloodied hands."

Quite how they'd managed it, Caroline didn't really know, but somehow she found herself behind a wall of dark-suited bodies, her security zealously pushing her behind them and out of harm's way. And still, she wouldn't stop, tears running down her cheeks now even as she raged.

"How dare you talk about honor? There's nothing honorable in what you did to my people. There's nothing honorable in frightening honest businessmen into raising their prices, holding the lives of their families and friends over their heads. You want a war, huh' Well, you've got one. And you have no idea what you're getting yourselves into!"

Any moment now, violence was going to ensue, it was almost certain. And yet, the GrangerGuild bodyguards and security were making no move to start it. They simply stood, impassive, silent, protecting the stragglers who had attended the funeral from the tense eagerness for blood that radiated from the kyodai.

"Rhy'Din's more than capable of taking care of you and yours," Caroline growled from behind the wall of bodies, even as certain family members made a concerted effort to pull her away, to stop her from venting her anger and frustration on the visible enemy. "You won this round, sure. Forty-seven lives, just to make a point. I'll see you dead before you hurt any more of mine!"