Caine shook his head. “The Japanese and American governments both want me out of the country for a while, for obvious reasons.”
Koichi nodded. “Well, there’s always next time. Soon you’ll come back and liven up an old man’s life again, eh?”
Caine sipped his beer in silence. He stared at the knots and whorls of the wood table. The slab of oak was probably older than he was.
“Maybe I should have stayed away,” he said. “I can’t help but feel like somehow I’m responsible for what happened. To Kenji, to Isato ... hell, even Rebecca. It’s as if ... somehow, I’m tainted. Everything I touch, everyone I care about ... when I’m around, they get hurt.”
Koichi shrugged. “You left things unfinished before. You had to come back to tie up loose ends. And what if you had stayed away? What would have changed? Kusaka would have succeeded; innocent people would have died. Nothing would have changed for Kenji or Isato. They made their choices; they chose their fate. Just as we all do.”
Caine nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe I never should have come here in the first place. Maybe things would have been better if I never got involved in this family.”
“Oh, you think so? If Kenji had died that night, I would have given up more than my finger. Protecting the oyabun and his family was my responsibility. If I had failed and Kenji had died due to my negligence, the price would have been my life—a price I would have gladly paid.”
Koichi took a long sip of beer and sighed. “I’ll tell you something else. Maybe he didn’t know how to show it, but Isato loved Kenji. If he could have somehow seen the future, if he knew that letting Kenji die that night would have stopped all of this from happening.... Well, I don’t know much, but I knew that old gangster well. Better than my own father. And I tell you, he would not have traded a second of the time you gave him. Time to see Kenji grow up, go to school, become a man. No matter how things turned out, Isato would not have given up those years for anything, in this world or the next.”
They were silent for a moment. Caine listened to the clacking of chopsticks and plates. The soft bubbling of the boiling pots filled the restaurant. The sounds were soothing, and he felt the melancholy fog begin to lift from his mind.
“Hey, what about that lady cop?” Koichi asked. “What was her name?”
“Mariko.” Caine checked his watch. “Actually, I should get going. I’m meeting her for dinner later tonight.”
Koichi insisted on paying the bill and tossed some yen from his wallet on the table. The two men stood and shook hands. As they walked out of the restaurant, Koichi slapped him on the back.
“You know, you think too much, Caine-san. All this talk of the past, the future, destiny ... what is all that about? Me, I’m just an old gangster. The word ‘yakuza’ comes from a losing hand of cards. That’s what we are, the losers, the outcasts of polite society. So what do I know?
“Well, I’ll tell you. The past and the future belong to the gods—or spirits, science, whatever you choose to believe in. You and me, we’re just men. And all a man has is this moment in time, right now, staring us in the face. True, it’s not much. Just one fraction of a second after another. But it’s enough. At any moment, you could change your life. But then again, at any moment, the ride might be over, and then you have to pay the price for your ticket.”
Caine caught a cab outside and looked back at Koichi as he drove off. The old man leaned on his cane and waved. Then he turned and walked down the street, flanked on either side by black, gnarled trees.
The night was clear, and the jeweled lights of Shinjuku were a dazzling sight. The glittering carpet of stars spread across the inky black velvet of the dark city streets. Caine knew there were alleys of death and ugliness hidden between the points of light. But still, he could not begrudge the view from the towering windows of the New York Bar, perched at the top of the Park Hyatt Tokyo.
“Quite a view, isn’t it?” Mariko’s voice was relaxed. Soothing.
Caine turned away from the window and gazed at her across the candlelit table. “Well, it’s not as impressive as the view I got at Skytree tower.” Even as he joked, he felt his stomach tremble as he recalled the dizzying sight of the city beneath his dangling feet.
Mariko laughed. The flickering candle reflected in her dark eyes, highlighting their newfound warmth and openness. The cold intensity of her stare seemed to have melted away. Her smiles looked natural, genuine.
Caine knew that, like him, Mariko had been touched by darkness. And when darkness had left its mark on you, moments of brightness could be brief and short-lived. He hoped Mariko’s would last. He liked seeing her smile. It chased away some of his own dark thoughts about the last few days.
Her white silk cocktail dress wrapped around her like a kimono. The dip-dyed fabric faded to a dark black where the hem ended above her knees. A thin band of black fabric cinched the dress closed at her waist. Caine thought it suited her. Sleek and modern, but somehow traditional at the same time.
Her hair fell in dark silken waves around her face, and she wore no jewelry. Caine realized that he was staring and smiled. He had to admit, she was even more beautiful than the spectacular view out the window.
“So I assume you’ll be back on duty again soon?” Caine asked.
She sipped her wine and shook her head. “I don’t know. We’ll see. The Security Branch has convened a special anti-corruption task force. The director, Taro, and many others, they’ll all face charges. After I testify before the committee, they said they would revisit the matter of my suspension.”
“Revisit the matter? Your boss was a dirty cop. You saved the city!”
She nodded. “Yes, but it’s not that simple. I disobeyed my superiors. I broke the law. I detained and even killed with no legal authority. I may lose my badge when this is all over as well.”
Caine shook his head. “You did what you had to do. You were the only one willing to do your duty. Everyone was against you, even the people you were supposed to be able to count on. It just doesn’t seem right.”
“Caine-san,” Mariko said, her voice quiet and thoughtful, “duty always has a price. Anything of value does. I had a duty to the Security Branch, but I also had a duty to my family. To my mother and sister. Now, that duty has been fulfilled. I am free. I know they can rest easy. If this is the price....”
Caine nodded. “It’s a price you’re happy to pay. I think I understand. And, for God’s sake, please call me Tom.”
She smiled again. “Tell me about the girl, Hitomi. What happened to her?”
“Well, to be honest, I don’t exactly know. Rebecca, my handler, said she would arrange for the girl to get a visa and passport. I know she left Japan, but I don’t know where she went. She didn’t say goodbye, not that I blame her. I’m sure she wants to start over, put all this behind her. Thanks to Kusaka, she has enough money to start a life anywhere she chooses.”
Mariko shuddered, and Caine regretted bringing up Kusaka’s name. But then the song changed, and the music seemed to brighten the mood.
“So this is it,” she said. “I can’t believe it’s over. You know, right now, at this moment, I honestly don’t care what happens to my job at the Security Branch. I’ve given them enough of my life. I feel like that night we met in that bar, that was another person, another life. Mariko Smith ... she’s gone now. I’m a different person.”
They stopped talking as the waiter cleared away their dishes and refilled their wine glasses. A piano played soft, quiet jazz, as Caine leaned back in his chair. He took a sip of his dark red cabernet. Like the food, it was exquisite. Perfect.
“So this is where you wanted me to take you?” Caine asked. “You know, it’s funny. I checked into this hotel the first night I got to Japan. I haven’t spent a second here since.”
Mariko was quiet for a second. She sipped her wine, then looked up at Caine. Her dark eyes were like liquid onyx in the warm glow of the candlelight.
“No, Tom, I took you here because I thought
you would like it, but this is not where I wanted you to take me. I want to go back to that love hotel in Shinjuku. I haven’t thought about going to a place like that in years. Now, tonight ... after all this, I can’t think about anything else.”
Caine touched her arm. “Mariko, you should know, I have to leave Japan tomorrow.”
She grabbed his hand and stood up. “I know. So we should stop wasting time.”
Their sex was all appetite and hunger. They were two souls, lost in the darkness, clawing for a taste of the light. The flickering neon signs outside bathed them in a pink glow as their bodies writhed and rolled on the enormous circular bed of the love hotel.
When it was over, they collapsed, glowing with sweat and exertion. Mariko rested her head on Caine’s chest, and he felt the tickling caress of her long, dark hair running down his arm. His eyes grew heavy, Mariko’s rhythmic breathing a lullaby. Soon they were asleep, clinging to each other as if to ward off the nightmares of the past.
Later into the night, the rain that had doused Tokyo earlier returned, and Caine woke to the distant sound of thunder. Raindrops pelted the window, and Mariko moaned softly as the sound pulled her from sleep.
“You know,” Caine said softly, “I had a perfectly good suite at the Hyatt.”
Mariko giggled. “This is better. For us, somehow this feels right.”
“Whatever you say.” Caine kissed her and slid his body on top of hers.
Mariko looked up into his eyes. “First promise me one thing. Tomorrow, when you leave, do not wake me. Do not say goodbye. I feel ... new somehow. Reborn. I do not want to start this life with goodbyes.”
“No goodbyes,” Caine agreed.
He entered her again but slowly this time. Their appetites fulfilled, they focused on prolonging their brief taste of pleasure. Then they slept until dawn.
In the morning, true to his word, Caine quietly dressed and left the love hotel. He shut the door quietly and did not look back at Mariko.
There was no goodbye.
He walked out into the grey dawn and into the puddle-covered streets of Kabukicho. It was early, and the rain still poured down from the clouds overhead. The streets were empty. Caine walked alone past the bars and the batting cages and massage parlors, and all the other pleasures the district had to offer.
Soon he found himself walking under the Kabukicho gate. Its red lights blinked eternally, even at this hour, like a lighthouse beckoning to the lost and the damned. Caine paused just under the arch. He let the rain wash over him, let the thoughts and memories of the last few days settle. Some drifted away, while others were etched permanently in his mind.
It wasn’t a long pause. Just a brief moment in time. A fraction of a second.
Then he stepped forward and passed through the gate.
Chapter Forty-Five
Caine was woken from a restful, dreamless sleep by the chirp of his cell phone. Sitting up in bed, he yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He felt the gentle rocking motion of the waves as his new boat bobbed up and down in the bay.
Warm sunlight streamed in from the side porthole. It bathed his sleeping quarters in the warm, peaceful glow of morning. Soon the scorching hot Pattaya sun would begin to raise the temperature, but for now the air in the cabin was comfortable. A fresh sea breeze blew down from above deck. It smelled of salt and brine from the water outside.
Caine crawled out of bed and looked around the tiny cabin. He dropped to the floor and did a series of push-ups and sit-ups, his morning ritual. Then, when his body was dripping with sweat and his muscles begged for mercy, he stopped. He walked over to the small drafting table he had set up in the corner. Picking up his phone, he saw a waiting text message.
He did not recognize the number, but the sender’s avatar was familiar. It was an anime character with neon green hair and huge, luminous green eyes. Masuka Ongaku.
He knew immediately that the message must have been from Hitomi.
It was a picture. A girl’s feet, lying on a beach. In the distance, hazy and out of focus, Caine could make out aqua blue waves crashing on the shore. Her toenails were painted neon green.
Caine smiled. He didn’t know what the picture meant or where Hitomi was. But she was out there, somewhere, on a beach, taking pictures of her toes. And that thought made him happy.
A voice called out from above deck. “Boss, looks like you got some company!”
It was Apinya, a local boy he had hired as a deckhand. Together, the two ran the boat as a charter. They took businessmen on fishing trips or the occasional sightseeing excursion to the stunning rock formations of Khao Phing Kan.
Something in the boy’s tone told him his visitors weren’t looking for a charter boat. He slipped his new Beretta Storm pistol into his waistband and made sure his shirt covered the bulge. “Okay, coming up.”
He climbed the ladder and stepped onto the deck. The wood was already hot and burned the soles of his feet. Apinya, as always, wore a pair of denim cutoffs and no shirt. He pointed to the long pier that led from the shore to their boat’s berth.
A woman in a wheelchair was moving down the pier, past the colorful fishing boats and shaved ice shacks. Men in cargo pants and t-shirts flanked her on either side. Their bulging muscles and wary stance screamed military. Bodyguards, Caine thought, but who are they guarding?
As the woman pushed herself closer, Caine caught a glimpse of copper red hair glowing in the sun. He leapt down from the boat and jogged over to her.
“Rebecca!”
The men tensed, but Rebecca turned and gave them a look. They took a few steps back and kept their eyes on Caine as she pushed the wheelchair over to him.
“Tom. You look good. Different somehow.”
She was wearing a white linen blouse and khaki shorts. Caine looked at her legs. They were covered with stitches, scars, and burn marks. The wounds were healing, but they looked like they had been severe.
“I didn’t know about the chair. I knew you were hurt, but I thought—”
She shook her head. “According to my doctors, I’m lucky to even be alive. The damage may not be permanent. They don’t know yet. So we’ll just have to wait and see.”
“Rebecca, I’m sorry.”
“Hey, if nothing else, I’m getting a hell of an upper body workout.”
Caine paused for a moment. The wind picked up and blew at her fiery hair.
“Listen, the last time I saw you, at the prison ... I said things. Things I didn’t—”
Rebecca cut him off. “Let’s leave our mistakes in the past, Tom. We’ve both made our share, and I didn’t come here to talk about that.”
Caine nodded. “All right. So what brings you to Thailand?”
Rebecca pulled a manila folder from her Hermes bag. “Believe it or not, work. You’re looking at the new Director of HUMINT.”
Caine smiled. “They gave you Bernatto’s old job.”
“It was the least they could do, don’t you think? They’re cleaning house, and Japan was just the tip of the iceberg. God knows how many off-book ops and unsanctioned hit teams Bernatto was running. Someone’s got to clean up the mess and get the department back on track.”
“I can’t think of a better person for the job,” Caine said.
“Tom, I want you to come back. I don’t know everything that happened, but I do know you were right about Bernatto. I can clear your record. You can come home. You can make a difference.”
Caine thought for a moment. “I can work with you, Rebecca, but not for the agency. I can’t place my trust in a bunch of suits sitting behind desks. I can’t make decisions about life or death based on someone else’s morality. Not anymore. I’m strictly freelance now. I choose the missions. I choose the targets. And I choose when to say no. That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”
Rebecca held the folder out to him. “Freelance, it is. Can you give me a quote for this target? Assuming you’ll take the job.”
Caine flipped open the folder. Stapled to
the top of a thick dossier was a black-and-white photograph. It was blurry, grainy. Probably a video still pulled from a security camera. It showed a man in a black overcoat, walking out of what looked like a bank. There were burn marks on his face. He wore thick, wire-frame glasses.
It was Allan Bernatto.
Caine’s green eyes squinted in the harsh sun as he stared at the picture. His mouth twisted into a snarl.
“I’ll take it. And this one’s on the house.”
RED PHOENIX
Chapter One
HELMAND, AFGHANISTAN
0600 HOURS
SIX YEARS AGO …
To the small, yellow arachnid, every chip of rock scattered across the desert floor was like a towering boulder. The creature scurried over the obstacles in its way. Its eight slender legs moved in an elegant dance, as the morning sun cast a long, dark shadow on the shifting sands behind it.
The creature’s flat, segmented shell was pale and translucent, and the color of a ripe lemon. Its long tail curved behind it and hung in the air, and a drop of venom glistened at the tip. As it travelled over the rocks and sand searching for prey, it kept its sharp yellow claws up and at the ready.
An arachnid known for its deadly sting, the scorpion’s scientific designation was Leiurus quinquestriatus, or "five-striped smooth-tail.” It was named for the striped segments of its shell that ran across its back. But the tribes in the southern Khandahar province of Afghanistan had another name for the creature.
They called it the deathstalker.
Thomas Caine squinted his emerald-green eyes and watched as the creature crossed over his foot. The arachnid paid him no mind and continued moving towards a small mound of sand. Caine took a step toward the scorpion as the tiny hunter lifted a shard of stone with its powerful claws. There was nothing underneath but hot sand. The creature dropped the rock and continued on its search.
Thomas Caine series Boxset Page 29