The Last Assassin

until he’s in intermediate care.”
    “I can’t wait that long,” I said. I felt like shouting, putting my fist through the wall, smashing things. “He could move against Midori.”
    “I don’t believe so. He’s fighting for his life now. That’s all he’s doing. That’s all he can do.”
    “What about when he’s out of the ICU? Won’t he have people guarding him?”
    “He already does, quite a few of them. Don’t worry. I’m going to take care of it.”
    “What about Kuro? What’s his status?”
    “Leave Kuro to me. You focus on Yamaoto.”
    I looked left and right as though I might see a way out. Finally I said, “Goddamnit, just keep me posted.”
    “I’ll call you the moment I learn more.”
    I clicked off and put the phone back on the sink counter.
    I thought again about calling Midori. The thing was, even if I warned her, she might not listen. She hated everything about the life and didn’t want any part of it.
    I realized I might be rationalizing, but I decided to hold off for just a little while longer.
    If I was wrong, though, I knew the opportunity to take my own life would seem in retrospect like a state of grace that had been offered to me and that I had stupidly, perversely refused. I’d have no more options then. I would have used them all up and cashed them in for damnation.

46
    I HARDLY SLEPT AT ALL that night. In the morning, I did an intense hour of bodyweight calisthenics and stretches. I worked through Hindu push-ups, Hindu squats, and neck and stomach exercises. I finished with twenty doorjamb pull-ups, suspended only by my fingertips, and a hundred fingertip push-ups after that. When I was done, I felt a little less anxious than I had the night before.
    But the rest of the day wasn’t easy. I kept picturing Midori and Koichiro in New York, imagining how easy it would be to get to them outside that Greenwich Village apartment, or at a park, or on the way to a store, or anywhere at all.
    Whispers was all over the news. There were rumors of yakuza ownership, and the working theory was that it had been attacked by affiliates of United Bamboo as part of a gang war. Three of the dead were Taiwanese nationals, and one of them, called Big Liu, was a known organized crime member. Police were interviewing various employees. But the nature of the club’s business, and its organized crime affiliations, seemed to have the effect of preventing witnesses from clearly recollecting the evening’s events.
    I briefed Dox and Delilah on what I’d heard from Tatsu, but other than that I stayed away from them. I told them it was operational, that it was better if we didn’t get together unless we needed to. But there was more to it than that. I felt like I was on the edge of a precipice. If things went one way, I’d be safely back on firm ground. If they went the other, I’d be plunged into the abyss. Despite what had happened with Delilah in the van, I couldn’t share the feeling with anyone else. I had to live with it alone.
    That night, three United Bamboo members were shot to death in front of a club they ran in Shinjuku. The media was all over it again, treating the shootings as yet another street battle in an ongoing war between the yakuza and ethnic gangs. Tatsu called me about it. He said, “You weren’t behind this, were you?”
    His voice was so weak, it hurt to hear it.
    “No,” I said. “I just learned of it.”
    “It’s good news, then. It means Yamaoto hasn’t gotten the word out that you were behind Whispers. If he had, his people wouldn’t be retaliating against the Chinese. I told you, Midori and your son are safe for the moment.”
    “Not if Yamaoto lives.”
    “He’s still in the ICU. But his condition is improving.”
    “Wonderful.”
    “No, it’s good,” he said, responding to my sarcasm. “They may move him as early as tomorrow.”
    “All right. Let me give you a list of the things I’ll need.”
    I told him. When I was done, he said, “No problem.”
    His voice was getting weaker. I said, “How are you doing?”
    “I’m…hanging on.”
    I clenched my jaw. “Don’t stop, okay?”
    “Okay.”
    I wanted to say more. What came out was, “Why don’t you get some sleep? You can call me if you hear anything.”
    “Okay,” he said again, and hung up.

47
    T HE NEXT MORNING , I did another hard workout and again it helped calm me down a little. I showered and shaved, ate a good breakfast at a nearby restaurant, then went out for a