Far beneath Tokyo's busy streets, in a concrete labyrinth known only to a select few, the safehouse war room hummed with a muted energy. The usual haze of cigarette smoke hung in the stale air, and paper coffee cups littered the long steel table at the center. The wall of monitors glowed with live feeds: emails scrolling, security cam footage from PSIA hallways, a map with blinking dots representing targets under watch. On one screen, Sako could be seen passed out in his living room, oblivious to the secret camera that Angel had patched into his smart TV. On another, an audio waveform pulsed with the snores of Chief Mori in his office – recorded by Kobeni's freshly planted boardroom bug. Every piece was in play.
Hiroshi stood at the head of the table, sleeves rolled up, tie discarded, a stern look of concentration on his youthful face. Dark crescents shadowed his eyes – none of them had slept more than a couple hours per night this week. But there was no time to rest yet. "Alright," he said quietly, yet everyone heard him in the stillness. "Let's go over what we have. We need to be absolutely sure."
Before anyone could begin, a gruff voice cut through the silence: "You have almost everything you need." All heads turned to the corner of the room, where a figure emerged from behind a filing cabinet, stepping into the light.
He was a man in his early sixties, clad in a rumpled charcoal suit that had clearly seen long years of service. His thick gray hair was combed back severely, and a faint scar ran from his temple to cheek. He carried himself with the weary authority of someone who had spent too many late nights poring over legal briefs and too many early mornings in courtrooms. This was Tachibana, the seasoned lawyer Makima had deployed to the team. With a decades-honed scowl and a perpetual slight stoop, he looked more like a cantankerous grandfather than a razor-sharp legal mind – until one met his eyes. They were hawkish and bright, flicking over the team with keen appraisal.
Denji, who had been leaning half-asleep against the wall, straightened up. "Jeez, old man, didn't your mother teach you not to lurk?" he blurted, rubbing his eyes. Power snickered, and even Aki hid a smirk behind his hand. They'd only met Tachibana the previous night, and his brusque manner had already rubbed Denji the wrong way.
Tachibana snorted, unfazed. "If you'd done your job to perfection, kid, I wouldn't need to lurk." He stepped up to the table, tossing a thick accordion folder onto it with a thump. "Makima sent me to make sure all this evidence you've collected doesn't fall apart the moment it sees the inside of a courtroom."
Kishibe uncrossed his arms, fixing his one good eye on the lawyer. "We appreciate your help, Tachibana-sensei," he said diplomatically, the honorific rolling off his tongue as a subtle reprimand to Denji's informal tone. "We all want airtight cases."
Tachibana grunted in acknowledgement. He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a pair of battered reading glasses, perching them on his nose. "Let's see what you've got so far," he said, voice gravelly from years of late-night cigars.
Hiroshi handed him a tablet with a summary of the compiled evidence. As Tachibana scrolled, his brow furrowed deeply. The team waited in tense silence. They all knew how much they had gathered, but also sensed what was coming – this man had a reputation for finding loopholes and weak links before the enemy could.
After a few minutes, Tachibana set the tablet down. He fixed the group with a hard stare. "Impressive spread. Bank transfers, illicit communications, even some confessions caught on tape." His gaze slid to Hiroshi and narrowed. "One such confession from a drunk Section Chief, if I read correctly."
Hiroshi inclined his head. "Yes. Chief Sako. He gave us confirmations of the chain of command and named other traitors."
The lawyer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "And did you Mirandize this Sako before he spilled his guts to his 'friend'?" he asked sarcastically.
Hiroshi stiffened. "It wasn't a formal interrogation. It was an undercover sting."
Tachibana held up a hand. "I know, I know. And frankly, I don't give a damn about his rights in this context. I only care how a judge will see it." He tapped the tablet screen where an audio file was listed – the Sako recording. "A defense attorney will say this was entrapment, coercion under intoxication, hearsay since it was to a third party, etcetera. That recording might not be admissible evidence at all."
Kobeni's face fell. "But… but it's true! He basically confessed to treason…"
Tachibana gave her a surprisingly gentle look. "Miss Higashiyama, we know it's true. But court isn't about truth alone, it's about proof that's legally clean. We have to be prepared to lose some pieces if they were obtained in… murky ways."
He turned to Madoka and Angel. "Your hacked email trove, for instance. Excellent intel. But the method? Unauthorized intrusion into communications – a defense lawyer will move to suppress that as an illegal search if we can't tie it to a proper warrant or an exigent circumstance exception."
Madoka adjusted his glasses nervously. "Makima will arrange retroactive warrants, won't she? National security and all?"
Tachibana shrugged. "She's pulled favors, but we can't count on judges rubber-stamping everything. Some of these judges are as compromised as the traitors. We do this by the book." He jabbed a finger at the printed screenshots of bank transfers spread on the table – courtesy of Aki and Madoka's data digs. "These bank records – did you obtain them through legal subpoena?"
Aki's jaw tightened. "We… acquired them through a backdoor in the banks' system. To map the flow quickly."
The lawyer nodded as if that was expected. "Alright. First thing – we'll need to secure official copies of those records through the Special Prosecutor's Office at the moment of the bust. I'll coordinate that – already have some friendly contacts there ready. But you must ensure the chain-of-custody is clear: that means the instant the raids happen, agents with proper authority should seize the original documents or servers with those records. These printouts won't cut it alone."
He scribbled a note on a pad: Subpoena banks – Shinomiya & Shijō accounts.
Aki nodded, taking his point. "Understood. We'll capture the servers and hard drives during the raid. And our bank contacts can be waiting with certified copies."
Tachibana allowed a hint of approval. "Good. Now, about the recorded calls…" He flipped to another section – Angel had logs of traitors' phone calls. "Please tell me you got a wiretap warrant for these?"
Angel spoke up, voice monotone but confident. "Makima authorized an internal security order. It's equivalent to a warrant under PSIA regs for counterintelligence."