Masayoshi Shido ruling over Japan. A horrifying prospect, yet one Akira can imagine all too well. Would that have been better or worse, I wonder? If he had more power and more subordinates, but I had somewhere to run?

"Not yet," he admits reluctantly. "It took weeks of convincing to bring my Akechi around to the fact he was being used, and my career didn't help my credibility much. By the time he finally decided I was right, it was too late to do much more than escape alive."

A gunbarrel glints in his memory, and the ghost of a rope wraps around his neck. Akira grimaces and pushes those thoughts aside.

"I've taken out the worst of Shido's officers, and Akechi detonated his ship in port. He's been weakened, certainly. But until I put a bullet through his benighted, hairless skull, he's not fucking weakened enough." Akira spits the words like venom, bitter and full of disgust. "I'd fight every devil in Hell to reach him there, if I must."