Chapter 2 - Shadows in the Neon DistrictTokyo at 5:15 a.m. is a peculiar ghost town. The neon signs still pulse against the bruised purple dawn, but the streets belong to the sweepers, the stray cats, and the shadows.

I walked out of the luxury hotel barefoot, having grabbed a pair of cheap tourist slippers from the lobby's complimentary basket on my way out. My oversized silk bathrobe served as an impromptu coat against the crisp morning chill. I looked like a madwoman, but in a city of millions, a madwoman blends right in.

Three blocks away, tucked beneath an elevated rail line where the subway rumbled overhead, sat a nondescript, 24-hour pachinko parlor humming with hypnotic noise.

I bypassed the flashing lights and headed straight for the back maintenance corridor, sliding a heavy, ungreased metal door open with a practiced hip-check.

A man was sitting inside a cramped, smoke-filled office no larger than a walk-in closet, surrounded by old CRT monitors. He didn't look up as I entered. He just slid a cup of steaming black coffee across the cluttered desk.

"You're late, Ghost," a raspy voice murmured in fluent, accented English. "And you look like hell."

"Drop the dramatics, Kenji," I said, collapsing onto the plastic stool and sliding the tiny relay chip onto the center of his desk. "My digital footprint was wiped, my passport is flying over the Pacific, and my lovely in-laws think I'm currently huddled in a hotel room weeping into a pillow."

Kenji picked up the chip with a pair of fine tweezers, holding it up to the overhead desk lamp. A slow, shark-like grin spread across his scarred face.

"Julian and Evelyn?"

"The very same."

"They freezing you out?"

"They locked every door and threw away the key." I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the scarred wood. "I need a ghost identity, a back-door wire transfer from the Swiss reserves, and a ticket on the next private charter heading out of Narita before the ink on my canceled return ticket dries."

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Kenji set the tweezers down and let out a low whistle. "You realize what activating the Swiss reserves does, right? It pings the global financial grid. Julian's corporate security will trace the transaction signature in under twenty minutes."

"Let them try," I smiled, my eyes locking onto his. "By the time they trace it, I won't be a stranded housewife anymore. I’ll be the person conducting their corporate audit."