A Clean Kill in Tokyo

to take it.”
    “Maybe it wasn’t up to you,” he said. “Maybe whoever hired you on this one told you to retrieve it. I know you’re not in the habit of asking a lot of questions about these assignments.”
    “And have I ever been in the habit of being an errand boy on these jobs? Retrieving requested items?”
    He crossed his arms and looked at me. “Not that I know of.”
    “Then it sounds like you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
    “You did him, Rain. You were the last one with him. You have to understand, it doesn’t look good.”
    “My reputation will have to suffer.”
    He looked at me for a moment, massaging his chin. “You know the Agency is the least of your worries among the people who are trying to get the disk back.”
    “What people?”
    “Who do you think? The people who it implicates. The politicians, the yakuza, the muscle behind the whole Japanese power structure.”
    I considered for a moment, then said, “How did you find out about me? About me in Japan?”
    He shook his head. “Sorry, that would fall under sources and methods again, nothing I can discuss here. But I’ll tell you what.” He leaned forward again. “Come on in, and we can talk about anything you want.”
    It was such a non sequitur I thought I had heard wrong. “Did you say ‘Come on in?’”
    “Yes, I did. If you look at your situation, you’ll see you need our help.”
    “I didn’t know you were such a humanitarian, Holtzer.”
    “Cut the shit, Rain. We’re not doing this for humanity. We want your cooperation. Either you’ve got that disk, or because you were hunting Kawamura, you’ve got information that might help us find it. We’ll help you in exchange. It’s as simple as that.”
    But I knew these people, and I knew Holtzer. Nothing was ever simple with them—and the simpler it looked, the harder they were about to nail you.
    “I’m in an uncomfortable spot,” I said. “No sense denying it. Maybe I’ve got to trust someone. But it’s not going to be you.”
    “Look, if this is about the war, you’re being ridiculous. It was a long time ago. This is another time, another place.”
    “But the people are the same.”
    He waved his hand as though he was trying to dispel an offensive odor. “It doesn’t matter what you think of me, Rain. Because this isn’t about us. The situation is what matters, and the situation is this: The police want you. The LDP wants you. The yakuza wants you. And they’re going to find you because your cover is fucking blown. Now let us help you.”
    What to do. Take him out right here? That would lead to retribution, which, given my current circumstances, was something I would have preferred to avoid.
    The car behind us made a right. I glanced back and saw the car that was following it, a black sedan with three or four Japanese in it, slow down instead of taking up the space that had developed. Not an effective strategy for driving in Tokyo traffic.
    I waited until we were almost at the next light, then told the driver to make a left. He just had time to brake and make the turn. The sedan changed lanes with us.
    I told the driver I was mistaken, that he should get back on Meiji-dori. He looked back at me, clearly annoyed, wondering what the hell this was all about.
    The sedan stayed with us as we made the turns.
    Oh, shit.
    “You bring some people with you, Holtzer? I thought I told you to come alone.”
    “They’re here to bring you inside. For your protection.”
    “Fine, they can follow us back to the embassy,” I said, suddenly scared and trying to think of a way out.
    “I’m not going to have some cab drive the two of us into the embassy compound together. It’s enough of a breach of security I’ve met with you at all. They’ll bring you in. It’s safer.”
    How could they have followed him? Even if he were wearing a transmitter in a body cavity, they couldn’t have pinpointed the location in this traffic.
    Then I realized. They had played me beautifully. They knew when “Lincoln” called that I was going to demand an immediate meeting. They didn’t know where, but they had people mobile and ready to move the second they found out the place. They had twenty minutes to get to Shinjuku, and they could stay close enough to react to what they heard through the transmitter without my seeing them. Holtzer must have given them the name of the cab company, the car’s description, the license-plate number, and updated them about its progress