The Last Assassin

her heart was suddenly beating harder. She pressed the RECEIVE button and said, “Allo.”
    “Hi. It’s me. John.”
    This time it’s hi, she thought. Usually it’s hey. She wasn’t sure what that meant.
    “Hey,” she said.
    “How’ve you been?”
    “Fine. I didn’t think I was going to hear from you.” She liked the way that sounded. Calm, not accusatory. Just a statement of fact.
    “Why did you think that?”
    “Last time we talked, it sounded as though you’d gotten pretty tied up in what took you to New York. And then you were going to Tokyo, and I just thought…that was it for us.”
    Good, this was really good. Be cool, but get it out in the open. Give him the chance and the inclination to explain, without seeming to ask for that.
    “I’m in Tokyo now,” he said. “And I am tied up. But not the way you think.”
    “What is it, then?”
    There was a long pause. He said, “I need your help.”’
    That wasn’t what she’d been expecting. Before she could think it through, she said, “You know, you call for my help more than you call for my company.”
    “You’re probably right. And I’m sorry for that. But right now I need both. Can you come to Tokyo?”
    “Why?”
    “I’ll tell you when you get here. Please, Delilah. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”
    She knew she should say no. But…there was something in his voice, something she’d never heard before. Whatever the problem was, he must have been nearly desperate to ask for her help after their last conversation.
    Desperate about what, though? The only thing she could think of was that something had gone wrong when he visited Midori. But the woman had been relaxed when Delilah had seen her…yes, but she was clueless, she wouldn’t have known what was going on in the shadows around her.
    What could it have been? Was Rain seen? And if so, was his child in danger? If that were the case…
    She felt her resolve slipping. But still, it was so damn galling. She wasn’t sure what he wanted, but for all she knew its ultimate objective might be a life with Midori and the child.
    Still, if something happened to Midori or the child that Delilah could have helped prevent, her own hopes for Rain would be doomed no matter what.
    Also, she realized, going to him now might give her a chance to try to correct the mistake she’d made in doing that number on Midori, to provide a cushion against its possible consequences should Rain ever find out.
    What if he had found out, though? Could this be a setup?
    No, she couldn’t believe that.
    But you ran your kind of op on him. Why wouldn’t he run his kind on you?
    That made the choice clear, didn’t it? She could give herself over entirely to suspicion and manipulation, which was to say she could give herself over to fear. She’d already sampled that particular dish, when she went to see Midori in New York, and the aftertaste was still vaguely nauseating.
    Or she could go with hope.
    “When?” she asked.
    “Can you be here tomorrow?”
    “Probably.”
    “Let me give you a number. Call me and let me know.”
    When they were done, she headed back to her apartment to check on flights. There was a 1:20 on Air France leaving that afternoon from De Gaulle, arriving in Tokyo at 9:20 the following morning. If she hurried, she could make it.

28
    T ATSU CALLED ME THAT night to tell me he had some items I’d requested. He warned me to expect a different bodyguard this time, which was thoughtful of him. If I saw someone unfamiliar outside his door at night, he knew, it would make me jumpy.
    I went to the hospital, using a lot of care in my approach. Repeated meetings in the same place was a huge violation of SOP, but right now obviously there wasn’t an alternative.
    The new guy knocked, then let me in. Tatsu was on his bed, pale and sweating this time. I looked at him for a moment. “You okay?” I said.
    He nodded, grimacing. “It’s okay. Just…hurts, sometimes. It’ll pass.”
    I pulled up a chair and sat with him, feeling helpless while he gritted his teeth and groaned.
    “Let me get a nurse,” I said. “She’ll give you something for the pain.”
    He shook his head. “They’ll give me morphine. It knocks me out. I can’t have that. Not now.”
    After a few minutes the groaning stopped and his breathing evened out.
    “That was a bad one,” he said. “They’re getting more frequent, too. Fewer and fewer breaks. Hand me that towel, would you?”
    There was a damp