Thomas Caine series Boxset

by Andrew Warren

  Koichi nodded glumly. “Damn it. Can’t take a bullet like I used to.”

  “Jesus, how many times have you been shot, old man?”

  “Lost count after the third.”

  Kenji’s trembling voice rang out. “Listen, there’s one more thing you should know.”

  “Speak up, kid,” Caine said.

  “Kusaka gave me a deadline to get all my trades in. Whatever he has planned, it’s happening today. And soon.”

  Caine glared at him. “Soon? As in when?”

  Kenji looked at the clock on the wall. His voice wavered. “Soon, as in an hour from now.”

  Chapter Forty

  Caine and Mariko sped down the expressway in silence. The skies overhead were a swirling abyss of black clouds. The rain had intensified, and droplets of water battered the windshield.

  Mariko flipped on the windshield wipers of the new car Koichi had lent them. It was an economy car, nothing fancy, but the last thing they needed was to stand out and get pulled over by the police right now.

  Koichi had also provided him with another firearm, a new Beretta PX4 Storm Compact. The pistol came with a range of adjustable back strap grips in its case. Of all the weapons he had used recently, it fit the most comfortably in his hand. He ejected the weapon’s magazine and checked the slide as they raced through the rain towards Tokyo’s Sumida district.

  Mariko hissed a string of Japanese curses under her breath as she turned and exited the expressway. Caine couldn’t quite make out the words, but her sentiment was clear.

  “I take it your phone call with your partner didn’t go well?”

  “Ex-partner, you mean. And no, it didn’t. He felt bad about ratting us out before so he gave me a heads-up that the Security Bureau has issued a warrant for my arrest. Yours, too, by the way.”

  Caine shrugged. “Well, it beats being executed by a private death squad.”

  “Hiyowana okubykomon, ne!”

  “I don’t know what that means, but it doesn’t sound good.”

  She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “It means coward with no waist.”

  Caine chuckled. “I think you mean spineless coward.”

  She nodded. “Yes, exactly. I told them what you found out, but I don’t know if they will take the threat seriously. Even if they do, I doubt they would make a move before bringing me in for a debriefing. They’ll have to get approval from the various security and intelligence chiefs. If what you say is true, there simply isn’t time.”

  “We make quite a team,” Caine said. “I’m wanted for treason. You’re under arrest for defying your superiors. And Koichi’s entire clan may be disbanded.”

  Mariko flashed Caine a bitter smile. “Now we truly are ronin. Masterless warriors. But we will still do our duty.”

  Caine slapped the magazine back into the Beretta and flicked the slide release lever on the pistol. The slide slid shut with a metallic click. He thumbed off the manual safety and tucked the gun into his waistband.

  “Duty? No, that’s not why I’m here.”

  “Why, then? You completed your mission; your superiors betrayed you. You could have left at any time. Why stay?”

  Caine looked out the window and watched the raindrops trickle down the glass, each one following a unique, unpredictable path.

  “First of all, there’s Hitomi. Drone attack, terrorists, billions of dollars on the line ... in the middle of all that, no one else is going to care about one missing girl. Kusaka has her stashed somewhere. I’m going to find her before this is all over. Assuming she’s still alive.”

  Mariko’s voice softened. “I see.”

  “And then there’s Kusaka. I know Kenji is responsible for his own actions, but I just can’t.... I’ve held on to the memory of what happened so long. It’s the one thing that’s kept me going all these years. And Kusaka took that and twisted it. Corrupted it. Now, it’s just one more bad dream, something that will keep me awake nights.”

  “And you want to make him pay?”

  “Call it what you like. I don’t care if it’s justice or revenge. I just want Kusaka out of this world. Whatever waits for people like us ... hell, bad karma, or just worms and dirt, I’m going to send him there.”

  “People like us? You are nothing like Kusaka,” Mariko said. “You are a good man.”

  Caine shook his head. “No. I’m not. But for this, I won’t have to be.”

  Caine looked up to see the massive Skytree tower looming before them. It drew closer and closer in the distance.

  The tower was a slim, delicate-looking skeleton of steel. The graceful lines of its support structure swept up into the air, narrowing as they reached its apex. It looked almost too fragile to support the bulbous observation decks at the top, over a quarter mile above the city streets.

  The clouds around the tower were grey and grim. To Caine, it felt like the sky and earth had somehow been inverted. When they ascended the tower, they would not be rising up, closer to the heavens. They would be descending, deep into the dark underworld of death.

  After parking, Mariko used her police ID to bluff their way past the ticket line in the lobby. First, she informed the guards that Caine was an Interpol agent on loan to the Public Security Bureau. Then she battered them with a barrage of threats and insults when they failed to pay the proper respect. In the end, they bowed and ushered them through the security line, eager to get rid of them.

  Safely ensconced in an elevator, Caine watched the floor numbers flick past on an LCD screen. They rose at a dizzying speed. A recorded voice played over the elevator’s speakers: “Next stop, Tembo Deck, floor 355.”

  It was still early morning, and the heavy rain had discouraged most tourists. They were alone in the glass box as it rose up the tower. The rain and clouds obscured the view. Caine saw only a dream-like landscape of partially hidden skyscrapers, protruding from the mist. The grey, rippling waters of the Sumida River snaked towards the complex. He could just make out the lights of boats, forging across the water, leaving cold, white trials in their wake.

  The elevator began a gentle deceleration. Floor 340, 345, 350 ... finally, there was the soft hiss of brakes. “Floor 355, Tembo Deck,” said the voice. The doors opened. Caine and Mariko stepped out.

  They were immediately greeted by a Japanese woman in a hospitality uniform. “Welcome to Skytree tower,” she said and guided them to the panoramic observation window that curved around the entire floor.

  Caine nodded and smiled, but kept a wary eye on the small crowd as they ventured out into the lounge. He froze when he felt a slight tremble under his feet. “Is this thing moving?”

  “Yes,” Mariko said. “It was designed to move counter to wind and earthquake vibrations. Its flexibility makes the structure stronger. Japan is one of the most seismically active regions in the world. We have to design our buildings to withstand quakes and typhoon-force winds.”

  Caine shook his head as he felt the subtle shifting of the floor beneath his feet. “Guess I’m glad we skipped breakfast then.”

  They cautiously walked the edge of the observation lounge. On any other day, Caine would have enjoyed the stunning view of the Tokyo skyline. Even through the rain and clouds, he could still see the massive city, stretching out in all directions. But today, he kept his eyes on the crowd. He searched for any sign of Kusaka, Bobu, or their Tokyo Black soldiers.

  “The clearest line of sight would be from the upper observation deck, the Galleria. It’s about a hundred meters higher than this point,” Mariko suggested.

  “Then that’s where we go,” Caine answered.

  “We have to take a second elevator up. It’s a more expensive ticket than this floor.”

  They followed the curved path to the other side of the lounge. There they found another attendant and a set of ticket machines next to a separate elevator. To avoid a scene, Caine purchased the tickets normally, and they stepped into the elevator.

  “Next stop, Tembo Galleria, floor 445,” the e
levator’s voice chirped. One hundred meters sped by in a blur of clouds and raindrops. Then they slid to a smooth stop, and the doors parted. Another attendant greeted them as they stepped out onto the deck. A sign on the wall informed them that they were now 445 meters above the city.

  The Tembo Galleria was actually two observation decks. The lower area was connected to the upper deck by a large, winding glass tube that curled up and around the tower. There was a gap between the two ends of the tube. From where they were standing, they could see the higher end, a flat glass window sixteen feet above them.

  Caine and Mariko pushed their way past a small group of tourists returning to the elevator. A few sightseers snapped pictures of their friends, waving from the other end of the tube.

  Mariko stopped and pointed to a map of the structure mounted on the wall.

  “Look here. The Galleria tube leads up to floor 450. There’s a maintenance corridor here....” She pointed to a spot on the map on a second observation deck, just past the exit from the tube. “That must be how you get to the roof.”

  Caine nodded. They began to walk up the tube when Caine felt the floors shift again. This time the motion was a sudden jerk, more pronounced than before. Mariko grabbed his arm to steady herself. Outside, the rain picked up in intensity. It pelted the glass windows surrounding them, like the patter of automatic weapon fire.

  A woman’s voice came over the loudspeakers. She began issuing instructions in calm, measured tones, first in Japanese, then in English.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, due to wind velocity, the Skytree observation decks have been closed. Please make your way to the nearest elevator and descend to ground level. No new passengers will be admitted up to the tower observation decks at this time. Arigato gozaimasu!”

  A group of tourists scrambled towards Caine and Mariko, eager to catch the elevator down. As the crowd engulfed them, Caine craned his neck. He struggled to look past them and see if anyone remained in the tower.

  The crowd parted and moved on, leaving two men standing in the middle of the tube. They were dressed in dark-colored suits, their faces hard, their features sharp. Caine saw the telltale sign of scars, just below the collar of their shirts.

  He was reaching for his pistol when the men turned and saw them, standing apart from the crowd at the elevator. They shouted in Japanese and ducked into a low shooting stance as they reached behind their backs.

  Caine grabbed Mariko and dove for a small alcove along the inside edge of the tube. He fired three wild shots as he leapt through the air. They struck the glass behind the men. The bullets left tiny cracks in the thick, industrial glass, but the window did not shatter.

  The crowd screamed and surged forward, as the gunfight erupted behind them.

  “Everyone, get down!” Mariko shouted back at them. “On the floor, now!”

  The two men returned fire, their bullets ricocheting off the edge of the alcove. Caine winced and shielded Mariko with his body. Sparks and chips of paint exploded around them.

  “I don’t need you to protect me!” she shouted.

  “No, but I need you alive to cover me!”

  Caine charged forward up the tunnel, firing as he moved. The men turned and ran, heading away from them up the tunnel, towards the upper deck.

  Caine darted to the outer curved edge of the glass tube. He looked down and saw the gut-wrenching drop yawn beneath his right side. He jogged forward at a rapid but measured pace.

  Mariko quickly followed behind him, keeping to the inner edge of the tube. She held her gun at the ready, sweeping back and forth as they moved forward in tandem.

  They reached the end of the Galleria tube. To their right, a large opening led to the upper observation deck, 450 meters above the ground. Soft purple lighting slowly pulsed. The speakers overhead were silent. The only sounds they could hear were the muted screams behind them and the incessant patter of rain on the glass windows.

  Caine and Mariko flanked the entrance to the upper deck and peered around the corner. A barrage of gunfire greeted them. To the left of the entrance, one of the fleeing Tokyo Black men had tipped over a display case of brochures. He was covering the tunnel exit.

  Caine squeezed off a quick series of shots to return fire, then ducked back behind the entryway.

  “The maintenance door is to the left!” Caine shouted. “The other one must have gone to the roof.”

  Mariko looked over at him and nodded. She dropped to one knee, peered around the edge of the entrance, and opened fire. “We have to make sure those people back there get down safely!”

  Caine fired another volley of shots towards the Tokyo Black man. His bullets exploded through the wood case and paper brochures. A confetti of debris exploded into the air.

  He checked his watch. If Kenji was right, they were running out of time.

  “Then we split up. I’ll take the roof. You cover me and keep any other Tokyo Black men away from the people. Now that the elevators are stopped, the only way to get to them is through you.”

  Mariko shook her head. “No, we do this together!”

  “No time to argue. If anyone other than me comes down those stairs, shoot first!”

  Caine leapt to his feet and sprinted through the entrance into the observation deck. To his right, he saw a grey door set into the wall with red Japanese letters across it. Underneath, in English, it said, “No Trespassing.”

  To his left, a few terrified civilians lay on the floor, covering their heads and crying. The gunman must have kept them from heading for the elevators to use as potential hostages.

  Caine charged towards the maintenance door. From the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of movement and knew the Tokyo Black man had popped up from his cover. The man was aiming, drawing a bead on Caine’s back as he ran towards the door. Caine didn’t look back. He reached the door and gave it a shove.

  It was locked.

  Behind him, more gunfire exploded. Bullets hissed through the air and thudded into the wall next to him, mere inches from his head.

  Mariko leaned around the corner, firing wildly at the Tokyo Black gunman. He turned his attention away from Caine and returned fire.

  Caine pointed his gun at the door lock and fired two quick shots. The lock assembly exploded into a mangled shard of metal. He kicked the door open and hurled himself forward into darkness.

  Chapter Forty-One

  As he paused for breath, Caine’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. He was in a small concrete corridor. A door on his left led to several flights of metal stairs wrapping around the inner core of the tower.

  He jogged up the stairs. The clanging of his footsteps echoed through the still air. After three flights, the stairs ended at another door. About twenty feet above, he could see the inner core of the tower. It narrowed and joined with the base of the antenna support structure. The door had to lead to the Galleria roof.

  He recalled the view from the observation deck ... the seemingly unending drop through banks of clouds and the tiny spires of the buildings below. He readied his pistol, took a deep breath, and slammed his body into the door.

  As soon as the door cracked open, an immense wind whipped it into the side of the structure with a loud crash. Caine darted outside, hoping the harsh noise would muffle the sound of his arrival. The wind drove the cold rain into his face, like stinging needles of ice.

  He braced his body against the wind and examined his surroundings. The roof was a flat circular ring, like the observatory beneath it. A low chain fence ran around the outer perimeter, about fifteen feet from the center of the tower. Beyond the fence was a track, possibly for a motorized window washing cart or another maintenance vehicle.

  The vastness of Tokyo stretched as far as his eyes could see. Without the glass between him and the impossibly high drop, he felt tiny and insignificant. His life was like a weak, flickering candle. A strong gust of wind could sweep him over the edge and snuff him out in a second.

  The chain fence was nothing, just a minuscul
e barrier that stood between himself and a 1,400-foot plunge into the echoing screams of death.

  Above him, latticework supported the huge broadcast antenna, which towered several hundred yards overhead. He could not see the top of the antenna. It pierced the clouds and disappeared into their dark, rolling folds of grey.

  Caine stalked around the center pillar of the tower. A man hunched over a small table came into view. A tarp strung from the lattice of the antenna formed a crude tent over the man, a barrier against the rain.

  Caine stepped closer, his gun out and ready. He recognized the man as one of the two from the confrontation in the Galleria tunnel. He was Tokyo Black ... but where were Kusaka and Bobu?

  As he crept closer, he spotted the dead body of a security guard lying on the roof. A crimson bullet wound pierced the center of his forehead. His body was pushed up against large metal housing mounted on the track that ran around the roof. It was the size of a small utility shed and hung over the edge of the roof like a bird perched on a ledge.

  Turning his attention back to the small table, Caine spotted the silver gleam of Kusaka’s hard drive sitting next to an open briefcase. Wires ran from the drive to electronics equipment housed in the case.

  Kenji said Bernatto had modified the drone’s controls, that they could fit in a briefcase. This had to be it! From this high up, the portable transmitter could maintain line of sight with the drone anywhere in the city. Caine cocked his pistol and stepped away from the tower base.

  “Put your hands up!” he shouted over the wind and rain. “Move away from the briefcase! Do it now!”

  The man jumped and spun around. His eyes were obscured by large, dark glasses. A small antenna pointed up from the glasses, near his temple.

  The man ripped the visor off his face and reached behind his back. Caine fired without hesitation; a double tap of bullets exploded into the man’s chest. He rushed over seconds after the body hit the ground. He kicked the man’s pistol away, and it clattered under the fence and over the edge of the tower.