[Thomas Caine #1] Tokyo Black (24 page)

She gripped the sheet next to her in her slender fingers. “Now Naka-san is dead,” Hitomi said through her tears. “I have no more money, no passport. There’s nowhere left to run. Bobu will find me.”

“We’re not running,” Caine snarled. “We have something these men want. That means we have leverage.”

Hitomi shook her head. Her eyes were wide with fear. “Leverage? Are you crazy? Does the rat have leverage over the tiger just because the tiger wants his meat?”

Caine stood up. “Sometimes it’s not about who has the biggest teeth, Hitomi. It’s about who goes for the throat first.”

“Where is the drive now?” Mariko asked.

Hitomi wiped the tears from her face. “It’s at the Hotel Riverside, in Asakusa. It’s a capsule hotel. I left the drive in a locker there.”

“Then that’s where we’re going,” Caine said. “Hitomi, you’d better get dressed.”

The girl nodded and padded back to the bathroom. When the door clicked shut, Mariko turned to Caine.

“What are you going to do?” She asked.

“I was just hired to find her. I never got any instructions beyond that.”

“And now?”

“I have no idea. But judging by the people who are after it, whatever is on that hard drive must be dangerous. I’d feel better if it was in our hands.”

“I’d feel better if it was in my hands,” Mariko said. “I’m still not sure what your involvement is here.”

Caine nodded. “Yeah, I’ll let you know when I figure that out myself.” He pulled out his cellphone and dialed another number.

“What are you doing?” Mariko asked.

“Calling for backup.” He turned away from her as a voice on the other end of the line picked up. “It’s me. I need to speak with Yoshizawa-san. Tell him I need a favor.”

Kenji Yoshizawa whistled a catchy k-pop tune as he walked through the Roppongi warehouse. He felt a strange current in the air, a nervous energy. The yakuza thugs scattered around the large room puffed away on their cigarettes, and spoke in hushed and hurried tones. They watched him pass with hard, silent stares, then returned to their conversations. His father’s men were on edge…. Something was happening.

He shook his head as he watched the old man in the blue windbreaker shake food into the plastic pools covering the floor. The koi farm was one of many investments he’d advised his father to dump. As usual, Yoshizawa-san refused to listen to him. Kenji could show him charts and graphs all day. He could show the business’s lack of profits, the rising cost of supplies and real estate, and a million other statistics. If his father wanted a business location to conduct his yakuza meetings, why not at least make it a successful business?

But his father would ignore the charts, the graphs, and Kenji’s statistics. Instead, he would rattle on about old stories or superstitions. Like the legend of the koi who, after a hundred years, managed to swim up a waterfall and through the dragon gate, despite mocking demons impeding its progress. The ancient gods were so impressed, they transformed the koi into a powerful dragon with gleaming gold scales.

Kenji knew there were no gods handing out dragon-hood, in Japan or anywhere else. Those who craved power were not rewarded for hard work or perseverance or swimming up waterfalls. Power belonged to those who were smart, strong, and ruthless enough to take what they wanted, no matter the risks.

Tonight, he promised himself, he would take what he wanted. No charts, no graphs … things would be different this time. Tonight his father would listen to reason. He would make him listen. The family’s future was at stake. And this time, it would take more than handguns and cheap suits to secure their future.

Kenji approached the old man who sang to his fish in a quiet, gentle voice. He vaguely remembered coming to the warehouse as a child, and seeing the same old man, singing the same old song, as he sprinkled food into the water. He realized he had no idea what the man’s name was.

“Hey, does that song really work?” Kenji asked. “Does it make the fish grow bigger?”

The old man gave him a thin smile. “Oh, I don’t know,” he croaked. “Who can say? They’re just fish, after all.”

Kenji laughed. “Then why do you sing to them? Do they like it?”

The old man shrugged. “I like it. And they don’t seem to mind. You see that one there, the blue one?” The man pointed to a stunning blue-and-white koi was swimming in tight circles, away from the other fish. Its scales looked like trails of sapphires and diamonds sparking in the water.

“What’s so special about that one?”

The old man smiled again. “The colors … the blue and white. He is you, the son. The red koi are the mothers. And the black ones are the fathers. Blue koi represent the role of sons.”

“Why is he swimming all alone?”

Frowning, he leaned in closer. “That’s a good question, young man. Perhaps his parents were removed from this pool. Maybe they were sold.”

Kenji smiled. “Well, at least this place makes some money then. Later, old man.”

As he strutted away from the pool, the old man watched him go, then looked back at the blue koi. The fish continued lapping its small section of water. The man frowned again, shook his head, and resumed his singing.

Kenji made his way to the dark back room. The two beefy men guarding his father’s office nodded and moved aside to let him pass. The heavy metal door clanked and clattered as it rolled up into the ceiling. Kenji nodded to the men and continued into the dark corridor that lay beyond. He heard the door lower behind him, hitting the concrete floor with a clang that echoed through the air.

Up ahead, a single dim light gleamed through an open doorway. He could hear his father’s short, muted sentences. He rounded the corner and entered the dim office. Isato sat behind his desk in the far corner of the room. He was on the phone, his mouth set in its usual impatient scowl.

Kenji grabbed a chair from the center of the room. It was the same chair Waters had been sitting in only a few days earlier … the beginning of the recent insanity. He dragged it in front of his Isato’s desk and waited for his father to finish his conversation. The single light swayed overhead.

“
Hai
… Yes, I understand. Very well. I will welcome having you in my debt for a change. When this is over, you and I will have a long discussion about your involvement with this family.” He slammed the phone down and looked up at Kenji over the rim of his glasses.

“Kenji, welcome. I didn’t realize we were meeting this evening. It’s a bit late to go over finances, isn’t it?”

Kenji leaned forward in his chair. “That was Waters-san, wasn’t it?”

Isato took off his glasses and began to clean them with a cloth he pulled from his suit pocket. “Yes, although Koichi tells me that’s not his real name. I assumed as much.”

“His name is Thomas Caine, Dad. Did you know he was working for the American CIA the last time he was here?”

Isato slipped his glasses back on. “And how would you know that?”

“You may not realize it, but I do my part to take care of this family as well. I’m not just an accountant.”

Isato dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Bah, I keep telling you, leave the yakuza stuff to Koichi and the others. You’re more useful to me in the board room than the streets.”

“Where is Caine now?” Kenji asked.

“That’s not your concern,” Isato said. “Now, do you want to go over numbers or not?”

“Come on, I owe the guy. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

Isato looked at him long and hard. His beady black eyes seemed to look through Kenji’s face, into the dark space behind him. For the first time in his life, Kenji got a sense of how his father’s enemies and underlings might feel, faced with that penetrating stare.

“Kenji,” Isato said, “you don’t get to be my age in this business without learning how to spot a lie. Now what is this all about?”

 Kenji sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Jeez, Dad, it would just be nice if, for once, you could at least act like you trust me. I was helping him earlier tonight. Koichi and I took him to see Mr. Naka. Or at least what was left of him.”

Isato slammed his fist down on his desk and cursed in Japanese. “Dammit, Kenji! I told you to stay away from him! Koichi knew about this?”

“Take it easy, man. You’ll give yourself an aneurism. I just gave him a ride; that’s all. You may be the oyabun, but I’m the oyabun’s son…. Koichi has to respect me, too, right?”

“Kenji, it’s not about respect. I want to keep you away from all of this. You spend your days in meetings and office buildings and coffee shops. You have fancy cars, expensive clothes, beautiful girls. Why on earth do you want to waste your time in a barren, boring, dark, cold warehouse like this? This isn’t your world. You don’t belong here.”

Kenji nodded. His face looked pale in the harsh light. “You don’t think I belong here, I know. Ever since that night, you’ve done everything in your power to keep me away. But this … this warehouse, the men outside, your two-bit scams and pachinko halls and massage parlors … this is everything in this world that you love. And you keep me away from it. Separate. Because you don’t think I’m good enough.”

Isato shook his head. “No, Kenji, it’s because I want you to be better than this.”

“I’m your son,” Kenji said. “This is your life, and I’m not a part of it.”

Isato shook his head. “I don’t have time for this right now. I promised Waters-san … Caine, as you say … that I would send him assistance. Koichi’s wounds are not as bad as I feared, but he’s still not up to a fight, which means I need to find someone else I can trust.”

 “You still haven’t answered my question. Where the hell are they going? Maybe I can help.”

“You’ve done quite enough. They’re going to the capsule hotel in Asakusa. This girl he’s been searching for, whoever she is, left something valuable there. Why this is my concern, I have no idea.”

Kenji leaned back and smiled. “You’re right. It’s not your concern. You’ve done enough.”

Isato shook his head. “Kenji, you may understand numbers and finances better than I ever will. But in my business, those things are nothing next to honor. I cannot buy my men’s respect with money—not any kind of loyalty that matters, at any rate. I have to earn it by my actions. Part of that is keeping my word. Paying back my obligations.”

Kenji nodded. “Okay, let’s say you’re right. You have an obligation to Caine, but you also have an obligation to this family. A greater obligation, wouldn’t you say?”

Isato stared at Kenji again, his dark eyes squinting. He said nothing.

“Listen to me,” Kenji said. “Trust me now. Do not call in your men. Do not help Caine. You’ve done enough. Trust me, and this family will prosper beyond your wildest dreams.”

“What are you talking about?” Isato asked. “What have you done?”

“I did what you do. I have insured this family’s success. In my own way.”

Isato reached out and began dialing the phone on his desk. “Kenji, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I suspect we will have a long conversation about it shortly. But, for now, I gave my word. I intend to keep it.”

Kenji gave his father a cold smile. He pulled a sleek, black pistol from his jacket and aimed it at Isato’s head. The old man looked up and found himself staring into the dark, circular barrel of the gun. If he was afraid, he didn’t show it. His expression remained blank and smooth as slate. Inscrutable.

“Father,” Kenji said. “Put down that phone. Now.”

Isato did not put down the phone. “What do you think you are doing?”

“I’m making this family rich. You put me in charge of your finances, remember? And like you said, I know numbers. I just put in a short order for all your China-based investments. In less than twenty-four hours, if everything goes according to plan, this family will have made hundreds of millions of dollars.”

“According to whose plan? Yours?”

“Does it matter? I’m telling you, I will make our family richer and more powerful than you could in a lifetime of this yakuza bullshit! Now, for once, would you please just listen to me!”

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Isato said in a low voice. “You have been working with Tokyo Black, with Bobu Shimizu. Do you realize who this man is? What he almost did to you and this family?”

“I work for Arinori Kusaka. Bobu is just another crazy gangster with something to prove. Once we no longer need him and his followers, we’ll eliminate him. Tokyo Black will scatter, and the Yoshizawa family will be rich enough and powerful enough to stomp out the remains of the Shimizu clan. Dad, just listen to me, this will work. I will give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

Isato shook his head. “No. Not like this. I’m sorry, Son.”

Kenji laughed. “Sorry.” He lowered the gun and stood up, pacing back and forth in front of his father’s desk. “What are you sorry about, Dad? For letting me be raised by nannies and girlfriends and aunts? For shipping me off to America the second I turned sixteen? For making me an accountant and giving my legacy away to Koichi, or one of these other apes you’ve got working for you?”

 “Yes, Kenji, I am sorry for all that. And I am sorry I failed you as a father. If you think I would work with the man who almost murdered my own son … or these terrorists who have turned their backs on their family and traditions … if you think I would do that for any amount of money, then I have taught you nothing about what it means to be a man. You know nothing about honor. And you know nothing about me.” Isato put the phone to his ear and finished dialing the number.

Kenji stared at him for a second, his eyes wide with surprise. For a split-second, he realized that he had been wrong. Nothing had changed. His father still hadn’t listened to him, would never listen to him. Everything he had worked for, all his hopes of proving his worth and earning his family’s respect, were about to vanish with a single phone call.

He blinked, and the corner of his mouth twitched. He snapped the gun back up and aimed it at his father.

Then he pulled the trigger.

Kenji’s ears were still ringing from the gunshot. He felt disoriented, dizzy…. The smell of smoke, blood, and gunpowder turned his stomach.