by Ty Patterson
The five men bent over her as one and lifted her carefully. They looked around, panic on their faces, and headed to Jessica’s SUV.
‘Don’t open it,’ Zeb whispered.
The SUV’s doors and windows didn’t lower.
The men thumped its window. A crowd of men from neighboring vehicles gathered.
‘Don’t. Open. It,’ Zeb yelled out to Martin on his cell.
The woman screamed again.
Jessica’s SUV opened. A suit poked his head out.
‘No!’
Zeb flung open his door, watching everything that happened as if in slow motion. He ran, closing the distance between him and Jessica’s vehicle.
The five men dropped the woman like a sack of flour. Several hands reached inside their jackets.
The watching crowd. They’re all yakuza.
Jessica’s man, the suit, tried to get back inside. A yakuza grabbed him by his jacket.
The first yakuza gun emerged.
Zeb shot the gangster before he could fire.
Time sped up. Zeb shot into the bunch of five men, even as more guns came out of jackets. He shot at the crowd. Rapid roll of fire that sounded like thunder. No need to aim. Fire into body mass. Get them to fall back.
His speed took them by surprise and his firing caught them flat-footed. By the time the yakuza regrouped, he had reached Jessica’s vehicle.
By the time the first gun turned in his direction, he had shoved the suit inside, leapt in, and shut the door.
‘Drive!’
Martin drove.
He crashed into vehicles in front of him, shoving them out of the way with brute force and power.
Bullets thudded into the vehicle’s body and its windows. The SUV was armored too.
‘You’re Carter?’ Martin shouted from the front.
‘Who else? Bit late to ask me that.’
Martin grinned at him in the mirror. ‘Billy said things tended to get hot when you were around. We’re armored. There’s no way they can get us. Unless they have a rocket launcher.’
Martin was in the front, with another suit. The suit Zeb had pushed inside was next to him. Jessica Whitley was on the floor, with a man on top of her. A third suit was at the back of the vehicle. All the men at the back had assault rifles with them.
‘We have a problem.’ Martin pointed at the traffic in front.
It had slowed to a crawl as people reacted predictably to the shootout. Some vehicles fled the scene, others stopped to watch. ‘If those dudes surround us, we’ll have a problem.’
Zeb looked out the rear window as yakuza continued to fire at their vehicle and several vehicles pursued them.
He grabbed his phone and speed-dialed a number. ‘Nishikawa-san, I need police escorts.’
He winced when the head of police shouted at him down the line, ‘Carter-san, was that your doing? Shooting in the middle of Tokyo? You know—’
‘Nishikawa-san, no time for all that. I need armed escorts right now. Otherwise Jessica Whitley, the daughter of the American ambassador to Japan, will be dead.’
His hard-hitting words silenced Nishikawa, who immediately turned professional. ‘Where are you? And where are you going?’
‘To Narita airport,’ Zeb said and tossed the phone to the front. Give him all the details, he mouthed to Martin.
He snatched an AR-15 from one of the suits, lowered his window a couple of inches and fired at the pursuing yakuza, aiming well above their heads. The gangsters dove to the ground and their forward movement halted.
Zeb fired long bursts into the sky and cars scattered in front of them like a storm scattering leaves.
Martin powered through the open space, and in the sudden silence in the vehicle, Zeb could hear his side of the call.
‘Yes, sir, that was an AR-15. No sir, no one was killed.’ A pause, ‘Sir, I think you know Mr. Carter better than me. Yes, sir, I’ll tell him.’
He tossed the phone back at Zeb and winked at him.
‘You have good friends, Carter. That was the police chief, I presume?’
‘Yeah.’
‘He said he intends to kick your ass. In public, when all this is over.’
Chapter 43
‘Why are we going to Narita airport?’ Jessica rose from her hiding place and turned fiery eyes at Zeb.
‘Ma’am, you’re going home. Back to the US.’
She stared him in disbelief for several seconds and then let fly with both barrels. ‘I am not going back. I have a presentation tomorrow.’
‘Sorry, ma’am. Your safety is more important than any presentation.’
‘My safety? You think I care about it? Do you know what’s at stake?’
‘Yes, ma’am. Your presentation will bring down the yakuza. You can still do that, from back in the US.’
‘But—’
‘Ma’am,’ he interrupted, allowing a hard edge to creep into his voice, ‘you know Shira Levin?’
‘Of course. She was a friend.’
‘Her father, ma’am, is a good friend of mine. So is Theresa’s dad. No more women will die on my watch.’
‘That’s exactly why—’
Zeb had had enough. He ignored her and dialed a number on his cell phone.
‘Sir, I need your help. You need to speak to someone,’ he told the man who answered.
He handed the phone to Jessica, who took it, glaring daggers at him. She held it to her ear and her posture changed instantly. ‘Uncle Dan?
‘But Uncle Dan—’ she protested at General Klouse, who talked over her. She listened for several minutes, the anger in her face fading, and finally nodded.
‘Okay, Uncle Dan. But I have to say, he just looks like a thug.’ She gave Zeb a mutinous glare and ended the call.
‘We’re still heading to Narita?’ Martin asked above the sound of sirens that signaled the arrival of four police vehicles. Two fell in behind them, while two went ahead. Two more appeared and flanked them on either side.
The yakuza vehicles filtered out of the traffic and disappeared as soon as the police arrived.
‘Yeah,’ Zeb replied when he didn’t spot any more threats. ‘The plan still stands. She’s going back.’
‘And how am I flying back? Our planes are long gone.’ Jessica eyed him acidly.
‘I’ve made arrangements,’ Zeb replied comfortably and closed his eyes.
His arrangements were waiting for him in a part of the airport that was manned by the police.
Zeb lowered his window and identified himself. Two policemen checked the other occupants and waved him through. They rolled past more armed police till they arrived at a Gulfstream that was standing in pristine glory at the end of a runway.
Bear, Bwana, and Roger stood at the foot of its stairs, armed to the teeth, looking forbidding.
Bwana lost his grim face to a wide smile when Zeb hopped out, and hugged him tight. ‘You’ve got some stories to tell, bro.’
‘Later.’ Zeb introduced Jessica to his friends. ‘Ma’am, they’ll take you home and be with you till this blows over. Martin, probably best you and your crew return too.’
Jessica Whitley stood uncertainly for a moment, indecision on her face.
‘Ma’am, this report you have. How explosive is it?’
‘It will bring down the Hayagawa-gumi and at least two other gangs.’ She smiled for the first time. ‘We did something different with this investigation. Several trafficked women wore hidden cameras and recorders. They went back to their establishments. They recruited more women, some of whom worked in the Hayagawa office in Kobe. We have videos of Masaaki discussing deals with his sons. We have video of the sons supervising activities. Unloading women and drugs. Similar videos of the other gangs.’
She came closer to Zeb. ‘Some of those women were caught. They were killed. Do you have any idea of the risk they took, Mr. Carter? I owe it to them to present my report.’
‘You will. Just not here. Your presence in Tokyo is not needed for that.’
She stared at him, trying to see through him, and then nodded abruptly and headed for the stairs.
She halted when she was halfway. ‘Mr. Carter, just who exactly are you?’
‘I’m just a thug, ma’am.’
Zeb waited till the aircraft was wheels-up and then hitched a ride to Nishikawa’s office in one of the police vehicles. An hour later, he got a message from Bwana.
Clear, it said. They were over international waters.
He called Alexander Whitley, whose panic was apparent when he answered.
‘Sir, your daughter is safe.’
* * *
Nishikawa gave him a blistering dressing down in front of his people in the Keishicho office. There would be a thorough investigation, and if Carter was found guilty, he would be prosecuted. It was good that Carter had come to Keishicho and had turned himself in. That could allow them to cut him some slack in the sentencing.
Zeb saw several approving nods from Nishikawa’s subordinates. The police chief waited for Zeb to make any counterarguments, and when none came, he pointed sternly at his office. Zeb had to make a formal statement. Forms had to be filled out. Procedures had to be followed.
‘I wasn’t entirely faking it, Carter-san,’ Nishikawa growled at Carter as he flopped into his chair. ‘How could you be so reckless to fire weapons in Tokyo?’
‘I didn’t have another option, Nishikawa-san.’ Zeb poured a glass of water and handed it to his friend, who emptied it in one gulp. ‘They were drawing guns. They would have shot her protection people. How many dead?’
‘None. Seven yakuza injured, but none dead. You shot them in their bodies and didn’t hit any vital organs. No civilians were injured. Where’s Jessica Whitley? How is she?’
‘Safe. Over the Pacific Ocean. Angry.’
Nishikawa made a tell me gesture with his hands, and Zeb pieced everything together for him. His suspicion that a WAS investigation was underway, the oblique confirmation by Oyahashi, the narrowing down of the three possible reporters.
‘Her doctorate was a cover?’ Nishikawa rotated a glass paperweight and watched light reflect from it.
‘That’s genuine, Nishikawa-san. However, her investigation, travel to various parts of the country, meeting the women…the doctorate was the cover. We still don’t have all the details from her, but I suspect she witnessed a grab by the yakuza and that started everything.’
He went on to describe Oyahashi’s darknet link and his hunt for the finger maker. Nishikawa shook his head in bemusement. ‘Just how many lives do you have, Carter-san?’
‘I live on borrowed time. You know that.’
‘Oyahashi’s dead. We found his body. Flesh had been sliced off it. Attacked with a sword.’
Zeb felt weary all of a sudden. ‘He said there were killers waiting for him when I called him. I didn’t take him seriously then. He helped. I think he wanted to get out.’
‘Hai. There are many such gangsters. They want to change.’
The two men sat with their heads bowed for a minute, paying their respects to a yakuza gangster.
‘So it was the Hayagawa-gumi all along?’ Nishikawa asked presently. ‘We heard rumors that there was some test the father had put to his sons. The one who passed the tests would be his successor. But why did they kill those women?’
‘I think that was personal,’ Zeb replied, his mind in Sue, in Harata’s house. That plastic folder. ‘Is the name Ibuki Fujita familiar to you?’
Nishikawa thought for a few moments and shook his head. ‘Why?’
Zeb explained. ‘He was one of the men killed in California,’ he added.
Nishikawa typed the name into his laptop and ran a search. ‘Yes, I see that report. He was suspected to be Hayagawa yakuza. What’s his connection, Carter-san?’
‘I think he was Masaaki’s son. By a mistress.’
‘That would make it personal,’ Nishikawa murmured, lost in thought. He rose suddenly in excitement. ‘We can prove it. Quite easily.’
He started berating Zeb as soon as they stepped out of his office and didn’t stop till they reached his car.
‘Where are we going, Nishikawa-san?’
‘Minato. You will see.’ Nishikawa smiled secretively.
Nishikawa’s car rolled up to the gates of what looked from the outside like a walled garden. There was a guard hut to one side, from which a uniformed man emerged and trotted to the car.
There ensued a long conversation and a lot of head shaking as the guard denied entry.
Nishikawa rolled down his window. ‘I am the Keishicho head. Open the gate,’ he ordered.
‘This is private property, sir. No visitors are allowed.’
‘Nothing is private for the police.’ The head of police harangued the man and browbeat him into opening the gate.
They drove up a gravel road, on either side of which were lush gardens. Cherry blossoms, apple trees and ponds dotted the garden, and at the far end, away from prying eyes, was a cemetery.
‘Hayagawa family cemetery,’ Nishikawa announced and led Zeb to the stones.
The guard came hurrying behind them, still protesting, until a steely look from the police chief silenced him.
Zeb was impressed by the calm serenity of the graveyard. Stones went back a century, the recent ones lined up at the front. Each stone was unique, but all of them had sculpture to represent the five elements—earth, water, fire, wind, and space.
‘I have people watching this grave,’ Nishikawa whispered. ‘It is part of building our surveillance file on Masaaki and his sons. We had never heard of a third son, however.’
He searched the stones rapidly and Zeb knew what he was looking for. A stone whose name didn’t fit. Was probably less elaborate. There were a few of those. However, it still took half an hour for Nishikawa to yell out triumphantly.
He jabbed a finger at a stone that was concealed behind a larger one. No carvings on it. Just the name.
Ibuki Fujita.
Nishikawa stared at it for a long time and then bowed to Zeb.
‘Carter-san, anytime you want to join Keishicho, just say the word.’
* * *
‘It is finished. You should disappear for some time,’ Mineyuki told his father, who had also arrived in Tokyo, at their office in the Marunouchi district. It was a business district, and Hayagawa-gumi owned a tall building from which they ran their various businesses.
Masaaki and his sons divided their time between their Kobe headquarters and the Tokyo office.
The patriarch didn’t reply. He steepled his fingers and regarded his son, who looked unconcerned despite the failure. ‘No news of her?’
‘No.’ Mineyuki’s lips curled. ‘The gaijin has probably hidden her. Or she’s out of the country.’
‘Why hasn’t she published her report yet?’
‘Who knows? It will come, I am sure of it. And when it does, Keishicho will come too. You should disappear.’
Masaaki swiveled his chair to look out at the Tokyo skyline. ‘We built this empire. Our family, going back centuries. It will survive this report too.’
‘No, Papa. This is different,’ Mineyuki disagreed. ‘That reporter…if those women we captured were anything to go by, the evidence they have will be devastating. It will destroy us. As it is, the tide was turning against us. People didn’t want gangsters. Society didn’t want yakuza.’
‘I thought you were going to change that.’ Masaaki smiled thinly.
‘I was, and I still will, if we survive this,’ Mineyuki stated boldly. ‘Forget the tests, Papa. You should have appointed me at the start, and I am sure things would have been different.’
‘Where is he?’
‘Naoki? Hiding somewhere, no doubt. He doesn’t have the steel, Papa. He and—’
Masaaki held a hand up. He might be old. The Hayagawa-gumi might be on the verge of destruction, but he still was the patriarch. He still had power.
Mineyuki bit his tongue and held back his words. ‘Kitaru Hashi
moto and his son have already gone into hiding. I spoke to Daiki Iitsuka. He plans to see what happens. He is not going anywhere. You should go, Papa. I got word from our guard from the cemetery. Keishicho was there.’
Masaaki stiffened. ‘I too will see what happens. What will they do to me? Send me to prison? I can live with that. What about you?’
‘I have unfinished business, Papa.’ Mineyuki’s eyes hardened. ‘I intend to find Carter and wipe him out.’
* * *
Nishikawa summoned Zeb in the evening, offering no reason. ‘Get here as quickly as you can, Carter-san. And please look meek and humble. Like someone who is under investigation.’
Zeb got to the Keishicho’s office in half an hour and halted when he saw Nishikawa’s visitor.
The police chief waved him inside and gestured at a chair next to the visitor. ‘I think you know of him.’ He smiled, unable to contain his glee.
‘Yes, Nishikawa-san. I know of Naoki Hayagawa.’ Zeb bowed slightly to the elder son of the yakuza clan. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I have come to confess,’ Naoki said in English and pointed to the recorder that was playing on Nishikawa’s desk.
Zeb looked at it, and at the police chief. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘What’s there to understand, Carter-san? Naoki-san has had enough of his family. He is willing to turn witness. In return he wants protection and leniency.’ Nishikawa turned hard eyes on his visitor. ‘I can’t guarantee leniency. You are still a criminal. You will face the consequences.’
‘I understand,’ Naoki whispered, and continued his narration that would bring down his family.
* * *
‘Your brother.’ Shinoda came to Mineyuki’s office. It was late, eleven p.m., just the two of them on the floor.
‘What about him?’
‘He was with Keishicho.’
Chapter 44
Naoki had insisted on returning to his Tokyo apartment despite Nishikawa and Zeb’s insistence that he stay under Keishicho’s protection. He had spilled a mother lode of intel, a lot of which was actionable from the police chief’s perspective. He had confirmed a lot that Nishikawa and Zeb had already known.