The Last Assassin

are unaccustomed to each other, and suspicious. The bad blood that is always festering and that lately has worsened between China and Japan has infected gang relations, too. Like the countries themselves, the gangs are always ready to think the worst of the other’s motives. All they need is a little push, and they’ll turn on each other.”
    “What do you have in mind?”
    “Up until now, Yamaoto and UB have been dealing in relatively small shipments of methamphetamine because they don’t yet trust each other. But I have an informant who’s told me of a particularly large shipment arriving later this week, the largest one yet. The parties are nervous because of the amount of product and cash involved. If something were to go wrong…”
    I thought for a moment. I couldn’t be sure the Chinese would buy into my hoped-for explanation for what had happened to Wong and Chan. And regardless of what they believed, if Yamaoto learned of Wong’s disappearance and Chan’s death, he would draw his own conclusions. If he suspected I’d been in touch with Midori and the baby, he might move against them as a way of flushing me out. I hated to leave them alone and defenseless. But the only way I could see to protect them was to go after Yamaoto.
    “You trust your informant?” I asked.
    “He’s always been reliable. It’s what’s kept him out of prison.”
    “How many principals?”
    “Two yakuza making the pickup. An unknown number of Chinese handling the delivery. But my guess is at least two Chinese.”
    So a total of at least four, maybe more. Too many to handle alone. This wasn’t going to be easy.
    I sighed. “What is it with Yamaoto? Why is he so obsessed with me? I mean, I’m the one who was forced to leave Japan. Yeah, I won a couple of battles, but couldn’t he look at himself as the winner of the war?”
    “I don’t think so. It’s not just your beating him that rankles. He’s also afraid of you. He knows what you can do.”
    “I left the fucking country. Live and let live.”
    “Remember, he killed your friend Harry, even if he didn’t pull the trigger himself. He’s a vain man, and would insist on avenging such a loss. He assumes you would do the same, and that he is in continual danger as a result.”
    The words stung. Sure, he was just explaining why Yamaoto had it in for me. But he was also reminding me of a debt I’d failed to pay, knowing my shame about Harry would goad me. Tatsu had a way of imbuing his sentences with multiple meanings.
    I’d always known, deep down, that eventually I would have to finish things with Yamaoto. And now it wasn’t just about the past. Yamaoto was keeping me from having something, whatever it might turn out to be, with Midori and my son here in New York, right now. Today. I’d been foolish, a coward even, to have waited so long to face up to reality. And now I would have to work on the fly, at an inherent disadvantage.
    Well, there was nothing I could do about that now. Except to tell myself this would be it, the last battle, the last war.
    “Where are you? What hospital?” I asked.
    “Jikei.”
    “It’s too late to catch today’s flights. I’ll leave tomorrow and be there Saturday afternoon your time. You can brief me then.”

11
    D ELILAH SAT ON the couch in her Paris apartment. She tried to concentrate on the book she was reading, but couldn’t turn off her conflicted thoughts. She’d come back from Barcelona a week ago—a week!—and still hadn’t heard from Rain. Things had always been open-ended before, true, but this time he had told her right at the airport that he would call. And especially after the things they’d said to each other, or nearly said, in Barcelona, what did it mean that he hadn’t gotten in touch? Only one thing, she knew: he’d fixed things with his ex and lacked either the courage or the courtesy to tell Delilah. What was she supposed to do, call him, instead? What would she say? “Hi, John, did you reconnect with your past love and your new family? Is there still any place in your life for me?” Please. She’d said too much already.
    No, it hadn’t been a great week, coming as it did in the middle of what was turning out to be an interminable administrative review. Her colleague Boaz had called her to see how she was doing, and when she pressed him he admitted he’d heard the news wasn’t good. It seemed they were trying to decide between a formal reprimand, which would be merely humiliating, and