by Pam Richter
* * * * *
As Eve was arriving at the Century Plaza Hotel, Burgess Whitcomb was sitting in his office, so angry he could imagine red clouds of steam sizzling from his ears. He took the flask of bourbon out of his bottom drawer and took a large gulp; uncharacteristic behavior for him this early in the morning. He waited for the tendrils of searing heat to take effect and tried to breath slowly, contemplating the ruins of his investigation.
First, the complete files had been shredded, stolen, or both. Then, this morning, Sergi Malcovich had changed his story. He would not press charges against Sabrina Miller, saying a dog had bitten him. He had written up a report with that statement, which was in direct conflict with his previous report, which was, of course, missing. Ivar Cousin was backing him up. To top it all, the computers were coming up with astounding changes, showing that there was a person named Eve Miller with a paper history.
This morning, when two of his agents had gone to Sabrina's Fashions to pick the women up for questioning, three huge Japanese men had taken one of them, practically from under their noses. They had taken each women separately to some suite at the Century Plaza Hotel. There was no way to find out what was going on inside there.
Ferd Steinbrenner was still in the hospital and could not be questioned. He had brain damage from the stroke.
The bourbon and deep breathing was making Burgess calmer. He would wait until the women came out of the hotel room, but he vowed he would pick them up then.
Burgess was still awaiting the investigative results in Washington for possible incrimination of Willard Modert, Sergi Malcovich and Ivar Cousin as KGB spies.
CHAPTER 28
At the Century Plaza Hotel, two of the Japanese bodyguards led the way up the stairs. Eve followed, holding the arm of the man with the good English and the big bruise under his eye. She noticed he had all his fingers.
The two leading were speaking very quietly in Japanese.
"Her sister arrive?"
"Yes. Hashimoto wants a match. Put it off till now. Probably to impress them."
"Sadistic bastard. I hope he picks me. Kokuro's wasted."
They entered through the large glass doors and walked through a luxurious lobby to the elevators.
"What's your name?" Eve asked the man whose arm she was holding.
"Kokuro."
Eve smiled at him and he smiled back. Maybe Hashimoto felt beating up the Hulks was tolerable because he employed them. And he was so small. Eve thought about David and Goliath, but the story was not morally appropriate. She was getting angry.
"What is your name?"
"Eve. But don't tell Hashimoto."
Eve saw the big man smiling to himself and said, "What?"
"I have a daughter. I bought her a doll last Christmas. My daughter is very bossy and quite irresistible, like all three- year-olds. I resisted buying it. It has blue eyes and blond hair. The doll my daughter adores looks just like you."
Eve smiled at the enormous man and imagined a tiny daughter bossing him around.
Hashimoto answered the door to the penthouse suite himself. He was wearing white pajamas with a black belt tied around his middle. He nodded at the Hulks and they all disappeared. Then he motioned Eve grandly through an entrance hall into a large sitting room. Most of the furniture had been removed.
Probably thinks he looks virile and manly in the pajamas, Eve thought to herself. Thinks we're impressed with the black belt. Right. He steals Sabrina's store, plans to make me into a vegetable, caused Ferd's stroke and beats up the Hulks. She was definitely getting angry. Especially when she saw Sabrina huddled on a couch in the corner of the room. Her level of body tension indicated that she was frightened.
On a table in front of Sabrina, snap shots were fanned out in chronological order. The picture sequence showed various stages of the event when Eve had bitten the Russian spy.
"Revealing," Hashimoto said, nodding at the pictures.
Sabrina and Eve said nothing.
"There are many more." Hashimoto patted his pockets.
He's enjoying this, Eve thought.
He pulled out a picture, scanned it, then threw in front of the two women. It showed Eve and Ivar, standing in an embrace, beside a taxi.
"Do you need to see more?"
"All," Eve said.
Hashimoto made a superficial show of reluctance as he emptied his pocket. There were pictures of Eve and Sabrina together in many locations, pictures showing Mark and Ivar and the Steinbrenner brothers, even pictures of Bea.
"You don't think I would really come all this way on what could be a gigantic hoax?"
"And yet you did," Eve said.
"I don't believe so. Your American CIA would pay a bundle for these pictures. Also, the Russians are quite intrigued. These pictures do not only implicate you two...sisters. They implicate your friends."
"Here comes the blackmail," Eve said to Sabrina.
"No, no. Nothing so sordid. I merely present options. Eve comes to work for my corporation at a very lucrative salary. I can even make it open-ended. She stays as long as she wants to, leaves when she wants to."
He must be planning the surgery right away, Eve thought.
"I will lease a store in Tokyo for Sabrina. Or, if Sabrina stays here, I will make sure she can keep her shop where it is presently located. If you would like to add amenities to the package, you have merely to ask. I don't believe my employees should want for anything."
And a good beating now and then to keep them in line.
Hashimoto went on, "Eve will be in a unique position to learn many things at a salary which we will negotiate, but which would not be under one hundred thousand dollars a year. She will oversee many of my properties, working as my personal consultant, accompanying me in my extensive worldwide travels."
He wants to see what it's like to have a mistress with a computer in her brain, before he scoops it out for himself.
Hashimoto pushed a long thick document toward the two women. "Please read this agreement for your signature, outlining the details. You can talk it over and amuse yourselves, watching a Karate match."
When he smiled Eve wondered how his thin jaw could hide all the teeth. His face had split shockingly into two halves, his thick lips stretching back to reveal an improbable amount of hideous teeth, severing the top and bottom of his face into that of a loathsome crocodile-like caricature.
Hashimoto's ghastly smile lasted only a second. He walked over to the entrance of the suite and opened the door. The bodyguards were outside. All had changed into their karate outfits. The Hulks stood in a line in front of Hashimoto and he rocked back and forth, toes to heels, looking at each one in turn, frowning.
"I have the gun in my purse," Sabrina whispered to Eve.
"His thing is power," Eve said. "He wants control of us and he wants the computer. He won't sell the pictures for any amount. Unless there are no other options. We have to get the negatives."
As Hashimoto rocked back and forth he was wondering which of the women was Eve. Both were identically beautiful, but very strong willed, an attribute he did not condone in his women. He was curious about the results of brain surgery on Eve's personality. The computer was probably attached to all areas of her brain by now, but especially in the frontal cortex where reasoning is believed to be located. His mind had pictures of a beautiful and vacant woman, a blond American woman; his woman after the surgery. She would not have much mental acuity left. He would expect severe brain damage, and therefore she would be totally amenable to anything he suggested. She would not understand the difference between what was considered morally right and wrong, and that thought struck his imagination. She would do anything he pleased. He would have to make sure his surgeons understood that he did not want her mutilated. Hopefully she would retain some of her natural grace. He did not care if she lost her speaking ability, as long as she was docile. He frowned to hide the pleasure this fantasy provided. He motioned his head toward Kokuro.
Kokuro bow
ed and the other men moved to the walls around the room.
Eve watched the karate match with interest as she scanned the long document in front of her. For about ten minutes both men circled each other and then, like lightening, one would strike with an arm or leg. It was like an arranged dance. Both men seemed to anticipate the other's move, so that each strike was deflected and no one was physically touched. After that length of time, though, it seemed as though Hashimoto was getting tired. Eve could tell that Hashimoto was very inferior in expertise, and as he got tired he was not as careful. Kokuro was receiving kicks and punches that actually landed on his body and limbs. He was so fast that at first Eve didn't think he was being harmed. When struck, many times he would fall to the ground and roll, then come up with a strike of his own.
Another aspect of the sport which kept Eve from thinking that Kokuro was getting injured was that Hashimoto was very noisy. His breathing was loud, and each time he kicked or punched he would give out the cry Martial Arts devotees use to gather their strength and concentration. Hashimoto's yell was a high, shrill sounding scream, that lasted through each strike. But Eve had enhanced auditory abilities, and sometimes she could hear Kokuro grunt.
Knowing that a karate match did not traditionally condone any of the strikes hitting an opponent, Eve was shocked. It was too deadly a sport for such apparent mistakes. Either Hashimoto had no moral feelings for the ancient traditions, or he was clumsy and inept and brutally sadistic. She found herself getting very angry as Kokuro received what looked to be harmful injuries.
When Eve saw Kokuro stagger and shake his head for an instant she was suddenly afraid. She stood up and yelled, "That's enough."
Both men stopped. They were breathing deeply, but only Hashimoto's lungs hissed with a whistling sound with each breath. Eve guessed he was easily twenty years older than Kokuro. Hashimoto glanced at the women and then checked his watch, obviously angry at the interference. "We have another fifteen minutes. Do not concern yourselves. We have done this hundreds of times."
The match continued. Eve glanced at Sabrina. She had her hands almost covering her eyes. Eve realized that Sabrina had known before she did that Hashimoto was physically damaging the man he was fighting. She should have realized just how badly by the velocity and arc of the kicks and punches. She could do the mathematics in her head, and she counted the amount of times the man had been struck. It was amazing that Kokuro was still standing, but he did continue. It looked like he would not stop unless fatally wounded.
Eve stood up and prepared to run and defend Kokuro, but one of the men put a restraining hand on her arm, motioning her down. She was getting more and more angry at the little bastard beating the hell out of Kokuro. She found herself having trouble breathing, and could almost feel the blows Hashimoto was delivering, she empathized so much with his burly opponent.
Sabrina leaned toward Eve and said in a low tone. "He's trying to bait you. Waiting for the one with the computer to intervene. Then the sadistic bastard can try to hit you. See if you heal."
Eve could feel herself shaking and knew adrenaline was pumping her out of control. She breathed and tried to calm herself, thinking it couldn't last much longer. Hashimoto had repeatedly hit Kokuro on the bruised side of his face. It was bleeding freely, flowing on his white Gi.
Then Kokuro made a mistake. He was getting up from a kick, a near miss that would have killed him. As he rolled up he leaned forward for balance and raised himself, using only one leg in an amazing show of sheer strength, and with the other foot, as he rose, he kicked at Hashimoto's chest.
Hashimoto was totally unprepared, he had been moving forward in preparation for another strike himself. The flat of Kokuro's foot hit him fully in the chest. Hashimoto was thrown backwards, landed on his rear, and skidded across the floor until he hit the wall. The breath was knocked out of him. He really was not hurt, but Eve was genuinely worried when she saw him smile. In her short acquaintance with Hashimoto, she knew his facial expressions were the opposite of his thoughts.
Eve knew that the flat of Kokuro's large foot landing on his chest would be harmless. It covered a lot of area and diffused the strength of the kick. What Hashimoto would hate was the humiliation in front of witnesses, skidding on his behind, and his helplessness. And the look of defenseless surprise during his backward fanny ride. It was quite comical and Eve would have laughed under other circumstances at the tiny bully. She felt like cheering.
Kokuro ran to Hashimoto. He deferentially helped him up, but Eve knew she had not been mistaken about Hashimoto's smile when she heard a sharp crack. With Kokuro's back toward her, she could not see that Hashimoto had hit him as he bent down to help Hashimoto up, but she heard the ribs crack.
Both men walked slowly to the center of the room. Now Kokuro was only using one arm, the other was braced against his chest. Still, he was a better fighter, and even badly hurt and using only one arm he would have won the match. Hashimoto was taking advantage of the man's lack of both arms for defense. Kokuro could not drop and roll, and he received punches in the stomach, the ribs, on his arms. There were many swift brutal kicks. Then Hashimoto's foot caught Kokuro clean on the jaw. Eve saw Kokuro's head snap back with the impact. Something inside her also snapped.
Eve was not aware she was growling as she ran. She took the other men round the room totally by surprise. She heard Sabrina scream 'Eve,' and it brought her partially to her senses. She just flicked Hashimoto in his large, ugly adams apple. She felt she was in control. It was only a tap with her fingers, after all, but Eve underestimated the amount of energy she had built up into that little swat.
Hashimoto was flung backward like a puppet and landed on his back. He was holding his neck with both hands, choking with a horrible sound as his heels drummed the floor. His face got very red for a moment and then seemed to turn absolutely white as he tried to get his breath. As he struggled his thick lips turned an ugly blue.
No one in the room moved.
The adrenaline was still pumping in Eve's system. The puny little whack she had given Hashimoto did not help to dissipate it at all. She wanted to hit him again and again and again. She felt like smashing something. She wanted to kill.
Eve bent down and pulled Hashimoto up with one hand by the front of his cloth Gi, shaking him in the air. She growled like a dog with a bone in its mouth. Finally, she dropped him to his feet. He stood in front of her, staring up at her in horror.
Eve thought she must have scared the breath back into Hashimoto because he was breathing again, raspingly.
No one in the room moved.
Hashimoto started screaming thinly, trying to get control of his voice and looking around at his bodyguards, "Get her. She's going to kill me. Get her."
Eve turned and nodded at Sabrina. Then, realizing that Sabrina didn't understand, she looked at the purse Sabrina was holding in her lap very significantly. She saw Sabrina's eyes widen, as if in query. Eve nodded.
Sabrina took out the gun.
"Look. Look. They have a gun. Get them both." Hashimoto was screaming hysterically. The bodyguards moved over to Hashimoto and stood in a circle around him, as though they would protect him from Eve.
Eve turned and looked at Kokuro, who was bent over, recovering his breath. She turned back to Hashimoto. "You hurt him, you brutal little bully."
She led Kokuro by the arm to the couch where Sabrina was sitting. "Are you going to be all right?"
"Oh, yes. I'll live. Hashimoto's doctor will fix me up."
"And hush the whole thing up, too," Sabrina said angrily.
Eve put her face very close to Kokuro's and started whispering. "I want to ask you some questions. I will get the same answers from Hashimoto, eventually. I need to know when he's telling the truth. I need the negatives of those pictures on the table."
"He has them in a safe box. In the lobby."
"Is there a key?"
"The drawer, in his bedroom."
"Thank you."
"You'll have to
be quick," Kokuro said. "He has a meeting with his staff in a few minutes."
"Okay. Sabrina, you hold them here. Don't let them use the phone or answer the door. I'll get the negatives."
Eve stood up and faced Hashimoto.
"As you can see, we have a gun. And as you have witnessed for yourself, I am also an expert in the Martial Arts."
"No." Hashimoto was suddenly deadly calm. "You're inhumanly strong. The one Alexander Steinbrenner told me about. You are dangerous and should be locked up. If you don't come to Japan with me, I will advise the American government of your attack. You will be imprisoned. And my pictures prove you viciously bit another man in the neck. And if...
"Please shut up," Eve said quietly, walking a few steps toward him. "We have a gun, and I am an expert in killing. You are despicable, but I will let you off with your life. All I want are the pictures. Then we'll leave."
"You will come to..."
Eve shook her head. "Not in a million years. Tell me where the negatives are."
"Not in a million years," Hashimoto shot back sarcastically.
Eve turned and looked at Sabrina. "Do you think you can kill him without hitting anyone else?"
"Sure." For good effect, Sabrina aimed directly at Hashimoto, holding the rather heavy gun with her arm straight out. The other men in her line of fire moved rapidly aside.
"Either she will shoot you, or you could have a karate match with me. Either way you lose. Tell me where the pictures are."
Hashimoto just stood looking at her.
Eve was standing beside the couch, near Sabrina, then suddenly she ran toward Hashimoto. Her speed was so unbelievable that the four bodyguards unconsciously backed up even further. Either Hashimoto was immobilized by surprise or too scared to move. Eve was in front of him, looking down at him menacingly.