The Last Assassin
would be complimentary.
'When?' Big Liu asked.
Yamaoto smiled. 'Whenever would be convenient for you. But I would propose that sooner is better.'
'Saturday,' Big Liu said, after a moment. 'Busy before then.'
Yamaoto shrugged. Maybe Big Liu really was busy for the next three days. Maybe he was just trying not to seem too eager, to maintain the appearance of control. Yamaoto didn't particularly care. The main thing was that he was coming. If they sat down together, Yamaoto was confident they could work out what had happened, then settle this in a reasonable way.
'Saturday, then,' Yamaoto said. 'I'll arrange a suite for you at the Grand Hyatt.'
'Good,' Big Liu responded, and Yamaoto could feel his eagerness. 'Thank you. Yamaoto good man. Good friend.'
Yamaoto detested these sorts of false protestations of friendship between business partners who would as happily kill each other if that's where the profit lay, but sometimes they were called for. 'Yes, and so is Big Liu,' he said. 'I'll leave it to Mr Kuro to sort out the details, and will look forward to seeing you on Saturday.'
Yamaoto clicked off and handed the phone back to Kuro. And suddenly, for the first time since the sumos had told him their story, his mind flashed on a possible explanation:
John Rain.
He paused to consider, but then dismissed the thought. How would Rain get access to the particulars of the Wajima meeting? The man was formidable, but he wasn't supernatural. The more likely explanation was the simpler one: a turncoat, either in Yamaoto's organization or Big Liu's, working with people outside, and motivated by nothing more complicated than greed.
Besides, Rain was still in hiding. There had been no sign of him in New York, where Big Liu's people were watching Midori and her child and where Yamaoto expected Rain would resurface if he resurfaced at all.
Now that he thought of it, though, he realized Chan in New York was overdue to call him. Ordinarily the man checked in at least once a week to update him on the New York surveillance operation, but now Yamaoto realized he hadn't heard from Chan in, what… eight days? Nine?
Chan had been late once before, but Yamaoto had told Big Liu about it and there hadn't been a problem since. He imagined Chan didn't like reporting to a Japanese, but that's what he was getting paid for, and Yamaoto was irritated that the man was being lazy and disrespectful again.
If Big Liu had still been on the phone, Yamaoto would have mentioned it to him. But there had been more pressing things on his mind just then. Well, it wasn't a material thing, just an annoyance. If Chan had anything to report, presumably he would have done so. Yamaoto would mention it to Big Liu when they met on Saturday. They'd straighten it out then.
He heard Kuro saying,
'Kumicho,'
and realized the man had been trying to get his attention.
'Yes,' Yamaoto said, looking at him.
'Shall I… shall I have them taken away?'
Kito and Sanada. It was a shame he had needed to dispatch them. Most likely they were guilty only of incompetence, not of betrayal. They had come to him hoping for mercy, and look what he had been forced to do instead.
'Yes, take care of it,' he said to Kuro, with a dismissive wave.
He walked out to the club entrance and signaled to his bodyguard, who was waiting inside. The man went out and checked the street, then returned and escorted Yamaoto to the Mercedes, waiting with its back door open just in front of the entrance.
On the ride home, Yamaoto thought about what he was going to do next. One thing he knew for sure. Whoever was behind what happened in Wajima wasn't going to go quickly, like Kito and Sanada. No. This one would suffer before he died.
25
W e met Kanezaki that night at a coffeehouse in Roppongi. We watched from the van to make sure he was alone, then followed him in. Dox carried the duffel bag with the gear Kanezaki had lent us.
Kanezaki had his back to the wall and saw us when we came in. If he was surprised to see us together, he didn't show it. Good for him.
We sat down. Kanezaki smiled and said, 'Yeah, I had a feeling.'
Dox grinned. 'How've you been, Tom?'
'Not bad. You?'
'Ah, you know. Staying busy. Keeping the world safe for democracy, that kind of thing.'
'I'm afraid to ask what that's been entailing.'
'Hell, you know most of it.'
'And what I don't know isn't going to hurt me, is that right?'
'Look,' I said, 'we just wanted to return your toys. Thanks for lending them to us.'
He
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