“Agreed. I’ll be waiting by the Eternal Sakura.”
She suddenly faded, drifting away to nothing. The time was set. He was close to concluding the business once and for all. So why did he feel as if he were on the edge of a precipice?
The Eternal Sakura was a genetically modified tree cherry tree that bloomed all year round, the only one of its kind. It had been created roughly ten years earlier and had always carried the bright pink flowers that the Japanese so celebrated.
“How romantic,” said Seita, chewing slowly on his oni-giri, a rice package wrapped in seaweed. Roman had no appetite. He viewed the tree from afar through a pair of auto-focus binoculars, whilst carrying a knot in his stomach.
“What are you going to do to her? To them?” asked Roman eventually, putting the binoculars down as he looked over at Seita. The agent checked his watch and looked up again. From their vantage point on the bench they could look out over most of the park without appearing out of place. Just a couple of work colleagues out for lunch.
It was getting close to two, the allotted time. Still there was no sign of Idalia. She had always been unreliable in their ‘marriage’, but he would have thought that if money depended on it then she would have made more of an effort.
There she is.
She was walking with poise, wearing a light summer coat over a professional looking pant suit, with her hair tied back in a dark bun that looked so severe that he felt he was looking at a different person to the woman that he had married. She was carrying a small slim briefcase, her bastard brew, the blood of her trade. It was their child, in a way. A bit of her, a bit of him.
“So how do you want to play this?” asked Roman. Seita licked his lips, his thick tongue running over them as if he were tasting which way the wind was blowing.
“Well there’s still no sign of Luis, so I’ll have to go along with it for a while,” replied Seita, adjusting the tie that he had recently adorned himself with.
“You?” asked Roman.
“What, you think you can go over there? How will she react to that? You can’t draw Luis out like that. It’s too soon for the reveal. No, we keep up the game, keep our cards close to our chest. You think you can do that, Cat?”
Roman gritted his teeth but kept silent. It was true, they needed to follow it a little bit further.
“Are we going to take them on alone?” asked Roman, looking around the park. It seemed unusually quiet but there were still a few groups of people scattered between the statues and rare foliage.
“We have back up, trust me,” said Seita, eyes fixed ahead in a manner that showed he would reveal no more.
“What about our fake target? We’re supposed to be using the Cupid on someone.”
“She should be here in a minute,” replied Seita. He looked around and his eyes fixed on someone walking up the path towards them. He looked surprised. “I've seen her before. You were with her that night at the club when I first found you.”
Roman looked over his shoulder and was stunned to see it was Aarati, engrossed in a telephone conversation. She looked up and spotted Roman. Her eyes widened as an uneasy smile swept across her features.
“She's not the target, is she?” whispered Roman to Seita.
The agent shook his head. “No, not her. What a coincidence.”
There are no coincidences.
Aarati cast a quick glance at Seita before moving towards Roman. Her eyes darted around the park as she approached.
“You look even worse than the last time I saw you,” she said with concern in her eyes. “What happened?”
Roman glanced sideways at Seita, who had pulled out a cigarette and was flicking his lighter as he stood up. Across the park, Roman could just about make out Idalia casting her eyes around. Behind Aarati, a young woman wandered over to a bench and sat down, before opening a book. Upon seeing her, Seita frowned and gave Roman a nod, before starting to walk over to Idalia. Aarati was obviously a complication that Seita didn’t appreciate, now that his contact was here. Roman had to get rid of her, and quickly. He stood up, drawing Aarati into a hug, before whispering closely into her ear. The summer breeze moved around them all, carrying humidity and possibilities. The world was holding its breath.
“Please, you have to leave, now. I'm sorry, I can't explain.”
“What do you mean?” whispered Aarati, but there wasn't much surprise in her voice, a fact that was unexpected in itself. There was only a dull edge of resignation. She drew back with a curious expression on her face, a mixture of sadness and urgency, before pulling him into another embrace. Roman could feel her right hand reach up and touch the lapel of the light jacket she was wearing, coming to rest on an enamelled brooch in the shape of a rose.
“I tried to warn you, I tried to get you out, but there was never the time. We were always watched, and you always left too quickly. We could have talked in my house. I don't know why I wanted to save you but I feel so-”
A man walked past, tall and thin in a summer shirt, with dark glasses guarding him from the sun. His eyes were on the trees rather than where he was walking, and his shoulder knocked against Aarati’s. Her hand fell away from her lapel. “So sorry,” he said, bowing low.
Under the Eternal Sakura, Idalia had opened her briefcase and was showing Seita its contents.
The bushes nearby moved in the breeze.
Aarati closed her eyes, breathed deeply and said one word.
“Go.”
And then it happened, all at once.
The first thing that Roman noticed was the look of calmness on Seita's face as he pulled the gun out and placed it against Idalia's head. Something about his eyes, cold dark pinpoints that were splashed with red as he pulled the trigger.
Idalia's body flew away from him under the impact of the bullet that tore through her skull. She was the woman who had betrayed him for as long as he had known her, dosed him to keep him docile, shared a home, a bed, a life, or a part of her life anyway. His poison. His passion. His very own Roman.
There were screams, running feet, and movement everywhere.
Roman began to release Aarati, but felt something cold against his stomach, pushed there by the woman that was looking at him with such sadness in her dark, familiar eyes.
The bushes to the right of the Eternal Sakura parted in an explosion of leaves and branches as three heavily armoured personnel, all bearing the ParCorp logo bold on their arm moved out with automatic rifles brought to bear on Seita.
Now Seita's face showed emotion, a flutter of shock that turned to anger as he dived sideways behind a large stone statue. He brought his gun to bear on the nearest security guard, firing off two rounds in quick succession that tore through his target’s shoulder and caused him to stagger backwards. The other guards moved forwards, firing off rounds that fizzed and smashed into the statue, tearing grooves and pockmarks in the stone.
“Sit, now,” hissed Aarati, pushing Roman back onto the bench again. He was unresisting, his eyes trying to follow a situation that was quickly deteriorating beyond anything he had imagined.
The woman on the bench was running forwards, her book discarded and a small pistol retrieved from within the sleeve of her dress, the bottom of which had been torn away (clearly by design due to the sharpness of the angle) to reveal tattooed legs that tore across the grass as she fired off round after round at the flank of the guards.
Bullets flew into the already downed guard who was doing his best to stand up. He collapsed backwards, his helmet fragmenting under the hail of bullets.
Three more guards slipped out from a gazebo fifty yards to the left and started to get a bead on Seita, who was still firing at the others. To his right, two lightly dressed men with long hair who had been walking past were quickly pulling guns from beneath their coats and bringing them to bear on the guards.
The tall man who had stumbled into Aarati was barking orders into his own lapel now, whilst pulling a standard issue security pistol from its holster under his
arm.
“What the hell is going on?” whispered Roman, numb with shock. He watched as the tall man fired off three shots, two of which impacted and stuck in the shins of the running woman, sprouting with small green tufts that he knew signified tranquillizers. The effect was almost instantaneous as her legs quickly slowed before she tumbled forwards face first onto the grass.
“She’s Yakuza,” said Aarati, drawing a look of annoyance from the tall man.
“Keep him here,” he spat angrily, before sprinting towards the continuing melee at the other end of the park. Roman finally looked down to see what was being pressed into his chest and saw that Aarati held a Taser, vicious barbs ready to disable him should he choose to run. Escape was the last thing on his mind. In truth, there was nothing in his mind, nothing but a cold wash of shock that was threatening to drown him. Bullets, blood, Idalia dead. Violence, bodies, Idalia dead. Idalia dead. Idalia.
Because of me.
The second group had circled around behind Seita and had unleashed a volley with a shotgun that smashed into his body, though from the lack of blood it was clear that it was non-lethal rubber shot. They wanted him alive.
Seita would not go easily though, scrambling sideways through the undergrowth, from where he fired two shots, one of which took out the unprotected side of the knee of one of the guards, who crashed to the ground in a spray of blood.
“Tranqs!” yelled the tall man as he closed.
No such mercy was left for the two long haired men – also Yakuza judging from the tattoos that became visible as the guards on the right turned and fired – as bullets tore their clothes and bodies asunder. They did manage to take out another guard though, a vicious shot to the side of the gut that started to bleed out under the man's armour as he crumpled into a heap.
Seita burst from the bushes to the left, managing to disarm one of the guards and pull the rifle around to bear on the other, but as he did so Roman saw a small bloom of green at his neck. The tall man had fired his tranquilliser. Seita still had the wherewithal to fire the gun but his shot careered wildly into the ground before he stumbled backwards, fell to his knees and was quickly overpowered by the remaining guards.
“It's over,” said Aarati, staring out at the scene as they sat on the bench. Though it was not necessary, Aarati's free arm was still wrapped around Roman, as if she were protecting him.
Gradually a sense of stillness started to return to the park, leaving two Yakuza dead, two guards dead and one injured, and Roman alone against the world.
Roman didn't know how long he had been in that interrogation room, hands cuffed together securely as he sat staring at the mirror ahead of him. There it was, his own cut, bruised, custom made and stolen face. He tried desperately to think of something from his distant past, or dredge up a memory from his fake but largely happy marriage, anything other than what had come to pass due to his actions.
The ParCorp security forces had made it very clear from the start that Seita had used him, masquerading as one of their own and using the nano-tracker to keep tabs on him until he found Medea, a thorn in their side for too long. It made a horrible, gut churning sense as Roman looked back on the pursuit at the hotel. Seita wasn’t hiding his identity from his colleagues, he was trying to save his own skin. He’d seemed as if he’d rather have just killed their pursuers, and now I know why. He was only using non-lethal methods to keep up his disguise.
Roman was still lost in thought when the tall man entered, now wearing a crisp black shirt, grey trousers and a red tie. Black and red, the ParCorp colours. He was carrying an old style folder filled with loose leaves of paper. His face had the look of a young man who had nonetheless experienced a lot, with enough vanity to give himself a fashionably dishevelled hairstyle whilst still maintaining the look of professionalism.
He took a seat opposite Roman and looked him over, his eyes running over the cuts and scrapes that still adorned his face. In some ways Roman wished that one of his many injuries had been serious enough to kill him so that he wouldn't have to do any of this anymore. He'd lost so much recently. He had no idea if there was anything left of his life, or of himself.
“So, the Black Cat,” said the man matter-of-factly, opening the loose leaves and skimming through a few of the documents. There were crime reports, photographs and surveillance documents, some of which Roman could tell instantly related to Luis’ activities, the man who hadn't even turned up. Perhaps he'd had a stronger survival instinct than Roman. “You've led a very exciting life up to now. You've declined legal representation?”
Roman nodded but didn't reply. He was staring down at the largest image, which showed Luis – wearing his face – holding a gun to a bound man's head with his ruby teeth clearly visible. Roman wondered if such a detail even mattered to anyone except him. After all, they could simply be affectations, metal caps put on and removed at a whim. He'd seen more extreme body-modding even in the more upmarket parts of Techosaka.
“We're struggling to piece together the events that led up to this operation, and would appreciate your input,” said the tall man. He suddenly shook his head a little at himself. “Where are my manners? My name is Kodo Ryoji, ParCorp Industrial Espionage Unit.”
Roman couldn't have cared less. He stayed tight lipped and staring, his eyes dead inside his own head. He crossed his arms more out of habit than anything, but the man opposite obviously took it as a sign of reticence.
“I know you may not feel there is anything in this for you, but your co-operation is required by law. Your sentence could be reduced should you give us something of worth.”
“I've heard that offer before,” said Roman.
“Not from me,” said Ryoji. He looked back behind him at the mirror that ran along the wall and called out in Japanese for some iced tea.
“Honestly,” said Roman, leaning forwards on his arms, “I don't care anymore. I fought and I struggled and it was all pointless.”
“Very poetic, feeling a little sorry for yourself are you?” said Ryoji as the door opened and another male officer, this one in standard Techosaka police uniform entered, placing a jug of tea swirling with ice cubes and lemon slices on the table, along with two glasses. Roman watched him leave.
“Is it the police or ParCorp that have me?” he asked.
Ryoji started to pour him a glass. “Both, you've pissed off a lot of people.” Roman nodded. He couldn't deny it.
“So, to the point,” said Ryoji. He poured his own drink and took a sip, smiling with pleasure at the taste. “Why did you work with the Yakuza to bring down your own partner?”
“I didn't know he was Yakuza,” said Roman, knowing that he should have. The violent skills, the look, the tattoos visible in the alleyway as he had dressed his wound. The signs were all there but he had been too exhausted, too dizzy with details, and too stupid.
“I'm aware of that. Let me rephrase my question to get the words through that mess of a mind,” said Ryoji, unemotionally but with an undercurrent of obvious threat. “Why did you betray your partner?”
Options ran through Roman's head and he felt himself on another knife edge, once again stepping a thin line between two futures, or four, or eight. There were so many ways that this could go that he could no longer judge it. Had his instincts been keeping him safe against the odds so far, or had they been dragging him down, like a pachinko ball falling to oblivion?
He knew that Luis was masquerading as him, but the police and ParCorp obviously didn't. Did that help him in any way? Would it help his case to plead with them, to try to give evidence that it was not him but someone else who had turned the name of the Black Cat into a byword for anarchy and violence? He had no alibi for the last month as the only person who had known where he had been was now dead. There would be DNA evidence at her flat, certainly, but there was no way of knowing that he hadn't been leaving or returning. They would probably assume it had just been a base of operations.
One secret, one fact that no one else except Sei
ta knew.
“For money,” said Roman. A rebellious streak suddenly re-ignited in his belly. He was going down for a long time no matter what happened. It was time for the Black Cat to play.
“That's it? Your lover, dead, simply for more Yen?” asked Ryoji, his mouth curling in disgust. Roman stalled briefly, the ever present image of Idalia floating in front of his mind’s eye, her blood, her body, her death. Perhaps lack of sleep, bodily damage and sheer insanity were finally gripping him, but he couldn't turn back now.
“Yes,” he said, keeping his eyes firmly on Ryoji.
“I see,” said the ParCorp agent. He took another sip of the tea and ran his finger down the side of a report. “So you decided to work with Gecko. You do know that he would probably have killed you afterwards?” he said at last.
Gecko, of course. Roman had heard of the famed Yakuza killer, wanted by all corporations for violence and death, kills many and varied. Seita had hidden his nature well behind a façade of calm concern.
“I should probably thank you for helping us get a hold of him by the way. It certainly helped us out. I can't say you helped your friend Medea though.”
Roman smiled faintly, feeling his rage roiling in his belly but managing to keep it in check. The detective inspector was trying to get a rise out of him, but he wouldn't give Ryoji the satisfaction.
“How did you know about the meeting?” asked Roman, turning the questions back on Ryoji.
“Well, that is an interesting tale, but one that I don't think I'll be revealing,” said Ryoji. “A good magician never shows the people the mechanics of the trick. Just use your imagination.”
No bite. Let's try another tack.
“People died,” said Roman. “Was the operation worth it?”
Ryoji's face twitched. “It's part of the job. It got us you, Gecko and one of his other killers, so yes, I'd say so.”
“I'm not much of a coup,” said Roman, meaning it. “I'm sick of all this.”
“Doesn't change your past,” said Ryoji.
The Real Thing Page 13