The Last Assassin

real conviction. Well, there wasn’t much I could do other than to let her know the backup was there. She was probably right, anyway. We probably wouldn’t need it.

36
    D ELILAH GOT TO the club at nine thirty that night. She was wearing a crimson satin halter-top dress she’d bought that afternoon. She’d noticed a lot of black on the hostesses the night before, and thought it would be good to stand out a little. Well, the red satin would be perfect for that, it would catch the club’s subtle lighting just the right way. The accessories were right, too: black patent leather heels with a closed toe; an antique silver mesh evening bag; a silver ruched silk stole, to add some texture. On her left wrist she wore a single diamond bangle to catch the light; on her ears, small diamond studs, selected for the opposite reason. No earrings at all wouldn’t have been right with this outfit, but she didn’t want something that would draw unnecessary attention to her ears, either, given the earpiece she was wearing in one of them. The earpiece was small and flesh-colored and her hair was down, so she would probably be fine regardless, but why take chances?
    As she turned onto the club’s street, she dipped her head slightly and said, “Everyone in position?”
    “I’m here,” Rain said. He was in an alley south of the club, near where they’d parked the van.
    “Roger that,” Dox said. “I see you clear as day. And honey, you are a vision of loveliness.”
    She smiled. If she hadn’t seen Dox in action in Hong Kong, she might have thought he was too much of a joker to trust on an op. But she’d never seen anyone cooler than he’d been that night. Rain had told her Dox was like that, always fooling around until the moment he was about to drop someone from behind that scope. When he was sniping, Rain had said, Dox was as quiet and still as you could imagine. If you talked to him he would answer, but it was almost as though he wasn’t there. Or rather, he was so there that at that particular moment you were no longer what was real to him.
    “Good, here we go,” she said. She walked on, and there they were, the two valets again, standing like a pair of living lawn jockeys. They bowed to her in unison as she turned onto the path. She nodded and kept moving and a moment later she was inside, the same procedure as the day before, the same two security guys. The hostesses behind the island recognized her this time. They bowed, then one of them picked up the phone and spoke briefly in Japanese.
    Kyoko appeared from behind the door and walked out around the island. She shook Delilah’s hand and looked her over, clearly pleased with what she saw. She had probably mentioned her find to Kuro, and was glad that Laure was going to make the right impression.
    “Mr. Kuro isn’t here yet,” Kyoko said, “but he will be soon. He has some business tonight and I’m not sure when he’ll be free, but he is expecting you and I hope you can wait as we discussed.”
    “Certainly,” Delilah said.
    “Can we offer you something to drink…?”
    Delilah nodded and said, “Tea?”
    “Of course. Milk? Lemon?”
    Delilah smiled. “Just tea.”
    Kyoko nodded and gestured to the leather bench. “Please. Make yourself comfortable. And if there’s anything else you need, just let one of the girls know.”
    Delilah sat and Kyoko returned to the office. So far, so good: in a moment, she would go to take out the generator. Then, if Yamaoto arrived on schedule, she could see where the hostesses seated him and let Rain in. With just a little luck, this could be over very soon.
    A Japanese woman, one of the waitresses, brought tea in a fine ceramic pot on a bamboo tray. Delilah thanked her and sat sipping for about five minutes. No one went down the stairs, and no one came up—long enough to be reasonably sure that the bathrooms were empty.
    She stood and said to the hostesses, “Sorry, the ladies’ room…”
    The hostess closest to her smiled and gestured to the stairs. Delilah nodded and started down.
    She repeated the procedure from the day before. This time, though, she turned off the generator before leaving the utility room. And, to be sure, she disconnected the electrical leads. When she was done, she went into the ladies’ room.
    “Generator’s out,” she said.
    Rain said, “Good.”
    Dox added, “Way to go, honey.”
    She used the toilet, then went back upstairs and sat sipping tea again, feeling just slightly on