The Last Assassin

were on the brink, and if Yamaoto and Big Liu failed to reach some understanding tonight, the meeting could end in a war. Delilah glanced across the room and saw the other two in the opposite corner, where they would have a different angle on the principals and a clear field of fire.
    As Kyoko and Delilah neared the table, Big Liu stood and smiled. Damn, the man was eager.
    'Gentlemen,' Kyoko said. 'This is Laure. She came tonight only to interview for a position, but is so flattered by your kind attention that she would be pleased to join you for a drink.'
    'Yes, please,' Big Liu said, shaking Delilah's hand a little too vigorously. He turned to his associate and spoke a few words in Chinese. The man slid out, expressionless, and sat down with the adjacent bodyguards. Well, Big Liu's priorities were certainly clear.
    Big Liu turned his attention back to Delilah. 'I am Liu,' he said, shaking her hand again. 'But please, call me Big Liu.'
    'Yes, Big Liu,' Delilah replied, the Parisian accent thick.
'Enchantée.'
    'Ah, you are French,' Big Liu said.
    'Yes, French. My English… please pardon, I am still learning…'
    'So am I!' Big Liu exclaimed with a florid wave of his hands, then laughed as though this was the funniest thing in the world.
    Delilah turned to Yamaoto and Kuro. They both bowed their heads in welcome. Delilah reached for Yamaoto's hand. 'You are… Mr Yamaoto?' she said.
    'Yamaoto,' he said, shaking her hand perfunctorily. She sensed he was tolerating her presence simply to indulge Big Liu. And, presumably, to distract him.
    Delilah turned to Kuro and extended her hand. 'And you, Mr Kuro?'
    '
Hai
,' he said, shaking her hand.
    'Thank you, inviting me at your table,' she said, for Rain and Dox's benefit.
    'Please, please,' Big Liu said, gesturing to the bench. Delilah slid in, across from Kuro and diagonal to Yamaoto, and Big Liu sat down next to her.
    Kyoko bowed and left them. Delilah smiled and thought,
Here we go.

37

    L istening to Delilah's progress inside the club, I was both pleased and concerned. Pleased that things had turned out so that she was in a position to report precisely on Yamaoto's position. But concerned that she was closer than was ideal. Certainly she had lost some freedom of maneuver. Sure, she could excuse herself to use the restroom, but what if something held her up on the way? Or if, when she went to do it, Big Liu decided to tag along so he could speak to her privately, make a pass, whatever? There were a dozen ways this unexpected arrangement could cause problems for us.
    In fact, it already had, because she was no longer free to speak and so couldn't give Dox and me the real-time updates I wanted. She'd been doing a nice job of keeping us informed under the guise of talking to the people she was with, true, but that kind of communication had its limits.
    Well, she knew where Yamaoto was right now and could tell me soon enough. In the meantime, I wanted to get things rolling.
    'Delilah,' I said, 'I'm going to jam the main room emergency exit door now. We'll use the basement exit, per the plan. If that's okay, clear your throat.'
    She did.
    'Okay,' I said. 'I'm on my way. I'll be in touch again in a few minutes.'
    I picked up one of the steel bars and started moving in. I was wearing a navy suit, deep blue shirt, and a navy tie. Dark, dark, and dark isn't exactly the height of sartorial splendor, in my book, but the outfit served two purposes. Out here, it would reassure anyone who might see me that I was a fine, upstanding citizen, perhaps carrying away some refuse. I'd have to keep my right side away from an onlooker, of course, lest the suppressed HK and thigh rig spoil the effect, but in low light that would be good enough. A black ninja outfit and matching balaclava just wouldn't have conveyed as favorable an impression. And later, inside the club, with the lights out, the outfit would make me that much less visible. The rubber-soled Clarks shoes I was wearing weren't going to threaten Jermyn Street fashion dominance anytime soon, either, but they were as surefooted and quiet as sneakers. Comfortable, too.
    At the end of the alley, I stopped to look and listen — all quiet — then crept over to the rear of the building. I put one end of the bar in one of the expansion gaps in the path, then quietly placed the other at about waist level on the nonhinged side of the emergency door. I played with the angle, up and down, left and right, until the fit was snug, then