Jasmine and Angel spent the next few weeks training together. Jeremiah had asked Jasmine to bring the younger girl up to speed to take on duties as a Kitsune. The younger girl trained with both her new simulacrum and separately with her new prosthetics.

The training was exhausting, but varied. She learned with climbing tools and small melee weapons during the first week. The next week had to do with burglary tools and small explosives. Their relationship became closer over time. Always eager to please, Angel always listened carefully to any instructions Jasmine gave. The older girl enjoyed the experience of teaching such an eager and talented pupil. She had always wanted a little sister, and this one was cuter than she could have hoped for.

Angel was just rappelling down from the climbing wall one afternoon for fun, using her prosthetics, when she stopped to consider. “All of this training and practice is fun, but what are we getting ready for?”

“Grandfather has some missions in mind for you as a kitsune. He didn’t say, but I think I will be supervising your first mission. After that, we can really dig into our training!” Jasmine replied.

“Now that you have had a little break, show me your kata. Start with the first, and move through the first ten. Tomorrow, we start on the advanced katas. At least once a day, we will work on your fighting skills with just your hands. The morning sessions will be with your actual body with your prosthetics. In the evenings, we will do an hour of the same training with your simulacrum. We have two more weeks of training before we will be starting your duties.”

“Fantastic! It sounds like so much fun! My broth… the guy I was working for was mean. He never let me rest very much. He also never got me a new leg or arm!” she giggled as she landed gently on her toes and did a little spinning dance. “I love this new life. I feel like I was in the grave before you and Pop came into my world!”

“I think it was you who came into our world! We just captured you and used our cruel methods to bend you to our will!”

“Fudge and chocolate ice cream are such cruel torture!” Angel said with a poorly faked look of dismay as she put the back of her left hand against her brow in a pose she had seen used in dramas. 

With her head back and her eyes closed, Angel was an easy target for the thrown towel Jasmine pegged her in the face with.

The rest of the day was a string of practices and exercises.

---===+++===---

Angel sat across from Jeremiah for dinner. The delicious smelling beef stroganoff and steamed vegetables were placed on the plates. Jasmine was, again, out with Johnny Black. Neither person at the table was the least bit in doubt about what was going on.

“Angel, how is you training? I hope your niece has not been too hard on you…” Jeremiah asked without looking up, but the girl could see the wry smile he was failing to hide.

“I love working with Jaz. She lets me use my new parts some of the time and the sim’ suit the rest of the time,” Angel blushed hard after saying this. “You have no idea how great it is to get out of that tank!”

Jeremiah rubbed his hairless head with his hand as a pensive expression replaced the indulgent smile. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“What do you mean? You may look like you are thirty, but you move like a much younger man.”

“I see. So, you think I’m that young? How was my son in his fifties then?” he asked with a sly smile as he continued to massage his bare scalp. “I was in my eighties when I was diagnosed with cancer. It was stage four and inoperable.”

“That’s not possible! How could you have been that sick? You would be dead.”

He looked the girl in her eyes, one original and one as new as her freedom. “I was on my deathbed. Grey tried to ease my pain with an overdose of painkillers. It was just our luck, he had gotten some of the first tainted loads of drugs.”

“What are you saying, Pop?” Her curiosity knew no bounds now.

“It took a while, since whoever tainted the drugs was probably still trying to improve the mutagen. I was enveloped in a cocoon. Grey would not let anyone interfere, so I stayed in the protective shell for a week. The IV lines were still connected to me, so my son kept the bags filled. When I cracked out of the cocoon, I had no hair and looked thirty. That was five years ago. I have survived six lethal attacks and have healed faster from each one.”

“So, you’re like me?” was all the amazed girl could say.

“In many ways. My son built me a new identity as the next in line to take over his organization. It was a source of great amusement that I was to inherit the organization I had passed on to Grey years before.” His wry smile at saying this was poor camouflage for the pain she could still see in his face.

In an effort to distract him from his own discomfort, she asked, “Tell me more about this organization. After all, I am going to have to work for it soon.” 

“We started in the 1920s,” he began. He was glad for the chance to talk about something other than his son. “Organized crime had been on the rise for a long time. The authorities in multiple countries were outsmarted and had fewer resources than the different groups. Really, it went much further back. History is full of illicit groups taking advantage of the poor underclasses while catering to the rich and powerful. Our founder saw an opportunity to turn that greed into a weapon to use against itself. They pay us to kill people from rival groups and steal from them. That way, we can limit their power. We use the resources they give to us to protect the innocents that they take advantage of.”

Angel pondered this, “So, like Robin Hood with a katana? How does that translate to running a cathouse?”

Jeremiah barked a harsh laugh, “Ha! Interesting word choice. When I stepped in here, the place was run by some people who kept a bunch of girls on drugs and in fear of violence. The girls were no better than slaves who made money for abusive and evil men. Those men are no longer available for comment… I have gotten the girls therapy. The medical needs of each one have been addressed as well. The ones who stayed are working for themselves. I keep the building in good shape and take care of its physical needs. They set the rules for what they will do for money and who they choose to have as clients. The people who work there are rebuilding their lives. I am just giving them a place to do it and some advice.

“The reason that we met was a conflict with a client who would not follow my rules. He was abusive to the people in White Jasmine and would not correct his behavior.”

“Was that what you were talking to that Russian guy about?” Angel asked with wide eyes.

Jeremiah had a sad look on his face as he answered, “Yes. I fear I lost my temper about what happened with Grey. Those men will not repeat their mistakes. Ivan will make better choices. I plan to help him enter into a similar approach with his own business.”

“Why didn’t you just wipe them out, Pop?” she asked incredulously.

Jeremiah looked into her eyes again. “How would I make a deal with a dead man? When Ivan’s uncle had his grandfather and father killed, I was in talks with them to make the same kind of deal. It was right after I made my ‘recovery’. This is just my way of finishing the job.

“Besides, if the person who owns the house next to mine has a tree that grows out of control and a large limb is going to fall on my house, should I set fire to the tree and the house? Or is it better to help him trim the tree?

“I have helped to save his house and tree. I will help him keep the tree healthy and safe. If that tree bears fruit, then both families can share in the bounty of the shared good fortune.”

With a faraway look, Angel responded after a pause, “I see. So cruelty is only to be used in absolute need and kindness is always the goal.”

“Exactly! Now, I think we both need a big dose of fudge, don’t you?” he said with deadly seriousness. They spent the next hour stuffing themselves on ice cream and fudge.

---===+++===---

The following day, Jasmine started training with a huge grin. “I have our assignment! There is a hostage situation that will be happening tomorrow. Our job will be to spoil the plan.”

“What?” Angel replied.

“We have reliable intel that there is a group planning to grab the son of a rich man and hold him hostage. They are not planning to release the kid, though. Their plan is to deliver the body. The motive, according to our source, is a deal that went sour because of the kid’s father.

“Angie, this is a high-priority job. If the kidnappers can be captured without risking innocent lives, we should. If it they come close to killing anyone, they are to be terminated. If you aren’t sure, terminate. We are dealing with killers. There is no middle ground on this mission. Are we clear?”

“Understood. What are the callsigns for this mission?” asked the girl as she stood straighter.

“I will be Nightshade. You will be Novice.”

“Jasmine Nightshade, it sounds like a pretty poison!” Angel said with a giggle.

“You know that’s a potato vine, right?”