Hollywood After Dark Ch. 07

Yoshio approached the steel door entrance to the building and waited for me as I picked my jaw up from the ground, following him to it. He punched a quick code of symbols into a keypad by the door and it opened with a hydraulic sound. Soft light beckoned from inside and as he stepped into it, I too felt myself drawn inside by it's presence.

Once inside, the building resembled nothing more than a regular office building lobby, something that I had seen plenty of during my days as a delivery man but I noticed that the large plate glass windows allowed me to see everything outside but that the people passing by couldn't see in here at all. Though I wondered what this would be like during the day, I didn't have too long to ponder it before Yoshio again continued further into it, heading towards an elevator.

I followed him, still amazed at the architecture. Even though I spoke nor could read any Japanese, the odd sculpture in the middle of the room seemed to convey the general idea of where I was and who was here. A black mass of tightly twisted wiring wrapped around a silver pole with a blinking red light at the top, I vaguely recognized it as the logo of something, some movie or TV show I had seen. As I stepped into the elevator, I puzzled over where I had seen it.

A short, bored looking teenage doorman for the elevator pulled a lever and the doors in front of us closed. Without noticing it hardly at all, we began to climb upward smoothly towards the summit of the building, the soft hum of muzak coming through the speakers and the dead silent elevator moving along at what had to be a tremendous rate. I turned to Yoshio, who was busy staring straight ahead, to ask us where we were.

"What is this place?" I said, my voice soft in the enclosed area. Yoshio smiled politely, his eyes closing a bit.

"Kyokota Corporation, Japan's largest talent and production firms,"

The name sounded familiar, but from the way that Yoshio seemed to drift off when he said the name, I decided not to press the issue. I would know soon enough.

After a few minutes, the elevator came to a soft, cushiony halt and the kid manning the controls opened the door. Before me lay a marbled floor, the walls to the side of it made up of what appeared to be some sort of gray sheet rock. As I stepped out of the elevator, Yoshio right behind me, I peered closer at the wall. Taking a step towards it, the closer I got to it the higher the opacity of it increased. This was bizarre. My curiosity took over and as I approached it, I could suddenly see out into a room full of desks, all vacant given the late hour. Stepping backwards again, the visibility through it decreased again into the same boring gray color the further I got from it. When I was back in the middle of the room, amazed at what I had just seen, I turned to see that Yoshio had stopped and was watching me with a grin.

"A new technology we are developing. Very top secret and not out on the market for years still. But don't worry, everyone reacts that same way," he said. "Come, Mr. Kyokota is waiting,"

I hesitated for a moment before following Yoshio again. Whatever this place was, it was like something out of a movie - or 'Alice in Wonderland' even. Curiouser and curiouser.

We continued down the hall and towards a small red door in the middle of a black wall. Around the door were cameras mounted on the wall, whose small blinking lights gave off little light in the otherwise dimly lit corridor. As Yoshio punched in another code, the cameras disengaged themselves from the wall and floated down towards us, hovering on what appeared to be little turbines at their base. They came down to eye level and I could hear the whirring of their engines as they studied me. I didn't dare move, somehow afraid that this whole surreal experience was going to end badly. But just as quickly as they descended, they glided back over to the wall and scurried up to their perch.

The door opened and Yoshio stopped, motioning for me to go in. I looked at him hesitantly - so far, due to either the lack of sleep I had or the entire experience of this neo-Tokyo world, but continuing on by myself seemed a bizarre thing to do. My thoughts drifted to Katherine and I remembered my goal here - stop Antamount. Taking a deep breath, I ducked my head down and walked into the office.

Inside, it was a splash of red. The maroon plush carpet covered the room, leading to some slightly red tinted walls, where two bright white halogen bulbs burned on either side of a massive plate glass window. In front of the window was a black metallic desk, all sorts of wires and cords hanging off the back of it for TV monitors, computer screens and the like. Seated at the desk was a 40s looking man, his hair silver streaked along the sides, the glasses on his eyes giving off a slight glare from the screen so that I couldn't see his eyes immediately. He didn't seem to notice my presence at first and as I stood around looking at the room - sparsely decorated, a few pieces of expensive looking art on the walls not withstanding - he finally stopped typing at his keyboard and looked up at me.

For a moment, confusion washed over his face, probably wondering what I was doing there. With a nervous smile he stood from his desk and walked over to me. He was much taller than I expected, maybe 5'10 or so and decidedly shorter than most other Japanese people I had seen. Standing in front of me, he bowed slightly, which I returned per the custom.

"You Mr. Hilt?" he said, his English broken and heavily accented.

"Yes sir I am. Are you Mr. Yasuo Kyokota?"

"Indeed I am," he said, bowing his head at me again slightly. "Please, have a seat,"

I stood there stupidly for a moment, wondering where he expected me to sit. Suddenly though, Kyokota gave three rapid claps of his hands and a small panel slid open in the carpet. Silently, a silver chair with long metallic legs began to raise up out of the panel until it finally stopped, at a perfect height for the desk. Approaching it with that same sense of caution, I sat down on it's hard, metal backed surface.

"Mr. Hilt, you come here to help us, yes?"

"I believe so sir. I was told to come here and meet you and," I said but he politely cut me off with a wave of his hand.

"Mr. Hilt, it is not needed for you to tell me why you came," he said. "It is only important that you are here. Did you encounter any difficulties on flight?"

I shifted a bit in my seat. This thing was not made for someone of my size. "Well Mr. Kyokota, when I was at the airport I was almost stopped by two men who I believe worked for Antamount,"

He raised an eyebrow. "Almost detained? I'm sorry, what does that mean?"

"It means that they almost stopped me from coming,"

"Ah, I see. Hmmm, this very troubling indeed. This means that Willis knows that something is going on,"

"With all due respect sir, he has known a lot of things are going on for a while. That's why I came here, hoping to stop him,"

"And come you did. Very honorable Mr. Hilt. Now, allow me to explain my situation to you. Before I begin though, I must say that I am being a rude host. Would you care for something to drink?"

"No thank you," I said, my tone of voice implying that I was anxious to hear him get started.

"Very well then, allow me to begin," he said. "When my father started this company, he had only a video camera on loan from the bank and one actress, my mother. Slowly though, after rounding investors and selling his newly created shows to networks here in Japan, he began to become more financially stable and able to take on more projects. I will not bore you with the complete intricate details but 30 years after it's founding, Kyokota Corporation became one of Japan's largest companies, employing around 15,000 people. We are no Sony to be sure, but we have a large chunk of the market. Naturally, my father looked to expand the market and shopped overseas about 10 years ago for a company to help with distribution of our films and shows. He found Antamount, who was a rising studio at the time, similar to how Kyokota Corporation had been only a few years before,"

"So he joined up with them," I asked, speaking when he paused. He smiled politely at me, but I could tell there was more.

"Yes. My father was a very trusting man and some might say that he was - what is the word in English? Naive? Foolish? - when it came to selecting business partners. Though he reached a sound financial agreement with Antamount, over time he began to have less and less say in matters of the partnership, cowing instead to the fast talk of executives at Antamount. He also began to find it harder and harder to reach Wilton Willis, whom I have fond memories of spending holidays and vacations with. Frustrated by what was going on, my father threatened to end all ties between the two companies if his stature was not improved,"

"And did they?"

"They did, although in hindsight it would be what you would call a token gesture. In Japan, the appearance of someone and the way they are presented in society is paramount over everything else. The most poor beggar even knows this, seeing shame in panhandling and asking for money. When my father was installed on Antamount's board of directors, he hoped that he would be able to save face for himself, my family and the stock holders of Kyokota. Mr. Willis became more accessible to my father and soon they were friends again. But a few months back, there was a bitter dispute between the two, the nature of which I still am not able to find out. When my father was flying back to Japan, his plane went down in the sea, killing everyone on board, including my father,"

Yasuo paused for a moment, his mouth trying to form words as he wiped a tear away from his eye, catching it just before it rolled down his cheek. Composing himself, Kyokota stared at me hard.

"Mr. Hilt, I know that my father did not die in a plane accident as the newspapers would have us believe. I am confident that Wilton Willis had something to do with my father's death and my first act as CEO of Kyokota Corporation is to prove that and punish him for this. He has brought great disgrace to my family and especially to my father's spirit. I always advised my father to sever ties with Antamount but he did not take my heed in time. I fear that his memory and his reputation here in Japan as a kind, gentle leader will be forever tarnished if there is not repercussions for his death," he said in a whispered voice, the hatred coming from within him barely contained.

I paused for a moment, trying to find the best tact to take with him. "How do I fit into this?"

"You Mr. Hilt, are an important part in this picture," Kyokota said, his eyes clearing of tears as he got down to business. "I spoke with Charlie on the phone a few months ago and he was supposed to come and work things out with me but it seems at the last minute that he was delayed, so he advised me to help you,"

"Yes sir, he did. I am not sure where Charlie is right now but I am not too hopeful about his situation," I said. Yasuo raised his eyebrows at me and I proceeded to recount my experience at the airport and what Charlie had said to me before I left LA, which now seemed like a lifetime ago.

Kyokota sighed. "We must assume then, that Charlie is no longer a usable ally,"

I was growing a little uncomfortable with the language that Kyokota had started to use, so keeping my gaze directly against his own, I lowered my voice to a rather icy, determined tone.

"I'm not sure where you are leading with all of this Mr. Kyokota, but I am not a violent man. If you want to extract your revenge on Antamount through violence, then I want no part of it,"

He stared at me hard for a second, pondering what I just said. Leaning forward at his desk, his glasses sliding down his nose slightly, he matched my stare.

"Mr. Hilt, to imply that I would like to enforce physical vengeance is an absurdity, one that quite frankly offers me a great deal of insult. I too am a peaceful man, one who is at peace with his world and his life. I would not dare risk my chance at eternal harmony and peace by doing damage to another in this life. What I am proposing is far more civilized, far more painful than physical pain itself. And that is what aspect I want you to be involved with, should you consider it,"

"I'm not quite following you," I said.

"Like many American business men, we Japanese know that far more damage may be done with the stroke of a pen in a boardroom than with the sharp edge of a katana in a back alley. We need information, incriminating documents more specifically, that can be used to cause embarrassment and shame upon Antamount and Wilton Willis in particular. I am willing to offer you the complete services of Kyokota Corporation to do this, and will put you in contact with someone who could help," Kyokota said, his tone more casual now as he dealt in the world of business.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Kyokota continued on. He reached for a piece of paper and began to scribble down something on it. Stopping midway, he realized that he had written it in Japanese rather than English and, being more methodical now, wrote the same instructions in very labored and neat English. When he finished, he slid the paper across the desk to me.

"This is the address of Mr. Lipsky, one of Antamount's former accountants and advisors. He too shares our disgust with them, but for a number of different reasons. He will be able to guide you in finding what we need to continue on. Assuming you are still interested of course," Kyokota said, a slight smile on his face.

I took the paper from the desk and studied it, thinking hard. It was a Miami, Florida address. That meant more globe hopping and less time to spend with Katherine, protecting her. I stared at the paper hard, thinking about my options.

Kyokota picked up on this and stood from his desk, a much smaller man than I had first imagined. He rapped his knuckles on the desk as he looked around the room absently.

"You of course do not have to answer now. Feel free to take some time and enjoy your stay in Japan. I will arrange with Yoshio to put you up in one of Tokyo's finest hotels for the duration of your visit, which may be as long as you want. When you are ready to return to America, regardless of your decision, I will allow you the use of Kyokota Corporation's private jet. If that is satisfactory to you, of course,"

I sat pondering my decision. The risks could be huge; even if I wasn't killing anyone, I was still likely to be guilty of breaking & entering, trespassing and God knew what else. But Kyokota seemed to be the best way to keep things going in this quest for justice, and with his entire corporation's wealth and power at my disposal, the opportunity seemed like too good of one to pass up.

"Yes, that is satisfactory. I believe that I will take you up on your offer Mr. Kyokota, regardless of the risks. And let me just say that I appreciate your kindness in me towards my stay,"

"But of course," he said. "Now, before I call Yoshio, let me make another phone call. There is another American here in Tokyo for a visit, an actress, whom you might feel more comfortable spending some time with,"

My ears perked up at this, but then I remembered the same ordeal that actresses had been put in by Antamount, how they had used the "casting couch" against women. Kyokota must have picked up on my apprehension, because he smiled at me in an act of reassurance.

"Do not worry Mr. Hilt. She is here on her own free will, and is not obligated or tied down by anything related to me," Kyokota said.

"Who is it?" I asked, now relieved that I wouldn't be going through the same ordeal again.

"The star of the show 'Dark Angel' over in America. She is here to promote it's initial run here in Japan. Her name is Jessica something. Jessica..."

"Alba," I said, finishing my sentence. Even though I knew that she wouldn't know me from Adam, my heart still raced like a little boy, at the possibility of meeting her.

"Yes, that's it. I will call her and see if she would like to meet you. I believe she is doing a press junket right now,"

I sat in the chair while Kyokota picked up the phone, dialing quickly as he held the small black receiver to his ear. He lifted it to his mouth and began to speak rapidly and smoothly in Japanese, asking questions it seemed and then waiting for a response before asking another. I heard "Jessica Alba" in there a few times, but for the most part it was gibberish to me. After a two or three minute conversation, he hung up the phone politely.

"She will meet you across town at the bar near her hotel in a few minutes," Kyokota said, smiling. "And in your absence, I will lay the ground work for you to become involved in helping us. Please call Yoshio tonight and he will provide you with a hotel to stay at,"

I rose from the chair, sensing the meeting was over. Kyokota also stood up.

"Thank you for your help Mr. Kyokota. I hope that we can achieve our goal," I said sincerely, shaking his hand firmly.

"As do I Mr. Hilt...Alex," he replied, bowing slightly. "It has been an honor working with a man as committed as yourself,"

I felt a swell of pride at this compliment, but I couldn't think of a proper response, so I simply smiled at him. I turned from the desk and walked towards the door, the hydraulics of it rising up before I even got there.

Downstairs there was a car waiting for me, similar to the one I had arrived from the airport in. The driver, who didn't seem to really understand English, only figured out where to take me after I repeated the name of the bar - Kitsune - several times to him. He nodded in acknowledgement and we were off.

A fog had descended on Tokyo in the time I was inside the office with Kyokota. The bright, white halogen street lamps glowed with weird auras around them as the moisture in the air rolled around cars and people moving down the side walk. One could get lost in the city, swallowed up by the fog. I was feeling lost myself, physically and mentally exhausted yet somehow finding the strength to want to go meet with Jessica, my body now in a zone of non-tiredness.

The ride was shorter than I thought, probably because traffic had thinned; all the people out now were kids in their souped up racers and girls standing outside of clubs, arguing with the bouncer as they tried to get in. When the car pulled up to the curb in front of a brightly lit bar with only a few people lingering outside, I wondered if this was the place.

Stepping out of the car, I noticed immediately that it was. Off to my right was a small group of photographers, reloading film and chatting amongst themselves as they talked about shots. Paparazzi. They must have known that Jessica was inside, but I guess the owner of the bar wouldn't let them in. Good for him.

I opened the door to the entrance of the bar. Unlike every other bar that I had been to in the States, this one was a completely unique experience. The walls glowed with bright neon tubing, a small stage off to the corner set up for dancing Go-Go girls, who were happily gyrating to the beat of some European techno song. Off in another corner was a slightly larger stage, this one occupied by Japanese business men who were drunkenly belting out the lyrics to "I Love Rock & Roll", slurring the words with their alcohol and spotty English. As my eyes adjusted to the light of the room, I scanned for Jessica. I finally spotted her, sipping a martini at a side table by herself. Walking over to her, I drank in the way she looked.

She rose from her seat to greet me, clearly glad to see another American here in Japan. She had her slightly curly brown hair pulled back in a loose ponytail behind her head, held in place with a dark green scrunchie. She had dressed casually, wearing a pair of low cut, hip hugging jeans and a t-shirt that read "Made in the USA" across her rather ample chest. I felt slightly dizzy - maybe from the intoxicating sight of her, maybe from my exhaustion - as she smiled at me. She was a bit taller than I expected, around the height of most of the Japanese people in the place. It must have not been hard for her to spot me then, given how much I towered over the rest of the population.