The Last Assassin

walk.
    It was a sunny morning, cold and crisp. I walked east from the restaurant, past the caffeinated torrents of humanity flowing through and around Shinjuku Station, and eventually arrived at Shinjuku Gyoen park, where the chrysanthemums were enjoying their brief bloom. I wandered among the stalls and gardens, and for a while was able to lose myself in the small seas of yellows and pinks and purples.
    As I was leaving the park, my cell phone rang. It was Tatsu. I flipped it open and said, “Yeah.”
    “They moved him this morning. Intermediate care. He’s stable but very sedated. Tell me when you’ll be ready.”
    “I’m ready right now. How many people are watching him, who are they, and where?”
    “There are seven of them. Three outside the room, two at each end of the corridor.”
    “The nurses are putting up with that?”
    “If you saw his men, you wouldn’t argue with them, either.”
    I thought for a moment. The layered security was smart. I couldn’t get to the guards near the room without first engaging two on one end of the corridor. At a minimum, that would slow me down, giving the ones inside the perimeter time to prepare and the two at the opposite end time to move in as reinforcements.
    “Didn’t you say you were going to take care of this?” I asked.
    “Yes. I’m going to have them all arrested.”
    “I thought you couldn’t…” I started to say.
    “I didn’t say I’d be able to hold them for long. And yes, this little stunt will probably cost me my job. If they want to fire me, though, they’ll have to hurry.” He laughed, then coughed.
    The cough went on for a while. It sounded like he was drinking something; then it stopped.
    “How soon can you be ready?” I asked.
    “Give me an hour. I need to assemble a sizable unit. Yamaoto’s men might be…uncooperative.”
    “You got hold of those items I asked you about?”
    “Of course.”
    “Then we’re good to go. I’m on my way now.”

48
    A N HOUR LATER , I was positioned in one of the stairwells on the surgical ward of Jikei hospital, one floor above Yamaoto. I was wearing standard-issue hospital scrubs. Nonstandard was the HK, in a hip holster underneath. But the gun was only backup and I didn’t expect I’d have to use it. My primary weapon consisted of two syringes in the paper bag I was carrying. The first was filled with one hundred milliequivalents of potassium chloride. The second contained an equal amount of ordinary saline.
    Saline is procurable anywhere, but unless you have access to appropriate raw materials and equipment, potassium chloride requires a prescription. Fortunately, despite his illness, Tatsu retained his knack for acquiring prohibited items. I had stopped by his room just a few minutes earlier and, as promised, he had what I’d asked for. He’d been pleased when I explained what I was going to do.
    “Will it cause him to suffer?” he asked.
    “No,” I told him, sorry to disappoint. “It’s the same stuff they use in lethal injections. It’ll cause an instantaneous heart attack. You want suffering, we need more time.”
    He nodded.
    “I’ll just shoot him if I have to,” I added. “Or break his neck. But a potassium chloride injection is hard to detect. The cells release potassium naturally when they break down postmortem. And I think right now natural is better for us. It’ll obscure the involvement of your men, my involvement, everything.”
    He raised his eyebrows and said, deadpan, “If I didn’t know better, I’d suspect you’d done this before.”
    “I’m just a quick study.”
    He gave me a wan smile. “Go. Let’s finish this.”
    And now I was waiting for his all-clear signal, telling me his men had hauled away Yamaoto’s yakuza guards. I’d said nothing to Dox and Delilah. I could do this alone.
    My cell phone buzzed. It was Tatsu.
    “Go,” he said, his voice weak but eager. “They’re all cuffed and on the way down in the elevator. I’ve got two other men interviewing the nurses, away from their station, around the corner from Yamaoto’s room. You’ll only have a minute. Hurry.”
    I was already heading down the stairs. “I’m on my way,” I said, and clicked off. I pocketed the phone and pulled on a pair of surgical gloves and a surgical mask.
    When I reached the landing of Yamaoto’s floor, I paused and took a quick peek through the door. All clear, as Tatsu had promised.
    I moved out and walked briskly down the corridor. Room 203, Tatsu had