The Devil's Playground

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The Devil's Playground Page 29

by Michael Reagan

the request to perform at least one "hit" or sacrifice a member of their organization in front of them. Shota had done one better than that. He had asked each head of two cartels that he had wanted to enter into business with which competitor they would like to see removed. The Los Zetas demanded the leader of the MS-13 (a gang in San Francisco) whist in the Sinaloa Cartel case they had chosen The Special Agent in Charge in Mexico of the DEA who was close to breaking them at the time. Using the Katamaya-Gumi's Korean links Shota arranged for kidnapping of the two men and brought them to a meeting at the Red Dice Casino that they had just bought in Cancun. The fact that he had managed to get the heads of two of Mexico's biggest rival cartels in a room together at the same time was seen as an event in itself. Yet it was what he did next that made him one of the legends of the underworld.

  With his Katana sword in his left hand he forcibly placed the two terrified men on their knees in front of the two cartel heads and then promptly beheaded them.

  He then had calmly walked over to the still blinking severed heads on the floor. He picked them up side by side each other and threw them at the feet of the cartel heads. Not done with his gruesome display he then promptly turned around to his men and with a touch of theatre and ritual, selected a man in his seventies who was a member of the Katamaya-Gumi and ordered him to remove his shirt.

  Without hesitation the old man did as he was told, revealing to the audience his collection of impressive dragon tattoos on his body and arms. The old man then dropped to his knees in the same manner of two men that Shota had just beheaded and looked up at his leader. He then pulled out his Katana and waited for his signal that Shota gave him with a slight nod of his head, upon which the old man then committed Seppuku, the form of Japanese ritual suicide by disembowelment. To end his noble suffering Shota had behead him. Only this time instead of chucking the man's head on the floor he picked it up and carefully wrapped it in white silk before handing it to his number two. To send him respectfully home to his family.

  Unbeknown to the assembled and impressed cartel members the man had been dying of cancer, yet that didn't matter to them for it proved beyond any doubt that Shota Oshima was the man they could do business with and most importantly he commanded total respect, loyalty, and authority amongst his men.

  "Hank, may I suggest that we move outside and have a cigar together," Shota suggested politely.

  "Why that sounds a fine idea!" replied the Texan warmly in his typical drawl of his native State.

  They left the table and moved out on to the terrace. Once they reached a set of chairs and table they sat down together. One of the Household servants opened the Ellie Bleu box with the symbol of Shota's own "Gumi" on it. While Shota poured Hank a large double from the bottle of Cuervo Reserva de la Familia Tequila into one of the two crystal brandy classes that had been left on the table between them the Texan helped himself to a large Cohiba from the box.

  "I have never had Tequila in a brandy glass before," exclaimed Hank as he examined the dark amber liquid.

  Shota laughed.

  "That because only the best Tequilas are drunk this way, my friend," he said before going on to explain, while Hank cut and lit his cigar, that only the choicest agaves were distilled then stored away for at least three years before being bottled. As Hank sipped the liquid, Shota explained each how new vintage delivered had a different and distinct flavor.

  "But like life and death," Shota continued, "You can always count on the velvet texture and the deep masculine of this bottle of licorice and roasted nuts to give you consistency."

  "Impressive," said Hank after he finished tasting it.

  The Kumicho looked at the Texan for a moment. He didn't believe one word out his mouth. He could tell the man had no idea what he was drinking for it showed on his face. Yet that wasn't the reason he didn't trust him. It was because, in his opinion, he had no honor. As far as he was concerned, Dowling was the type of man who would sell the souls of his children as long as it suited his own purposes, very much like some of the cartel heads he did business with. In most circumstances Shota would have never entered into a business arrangement with such a man. Unfortunately Yorijo-San, his Kumicho, had told him that he needed to gain access to one of the Los Zetas Cartel legions of bankers with connections with the CIA so he had done as he had been requested.

  It had been the Texan's idea to use Yorijo-San's connections in Turkmenistan to force the Englishman into a corner and until recently it had appeared to have working extremely well indeed. Until that is the man had, apparently in act of revenge, killed the fat man for turning on him. That action had then cost the Katamaya-Gumi an absolute fortune from the loss of a valuable transportation agent into Europe for their drugs trade, but worse still had personally cost him a loss of face in front of his Kumicho.

  The only reason the Texan was still alive was because Yorijo-San told him he had to wait until the Prime Minister had annexed the Liancourt Rocks and the Americans had agreed to support them in the dispute with Gokiburi.

  "My people are onboard," offered Hank after releasing a plume of rich tobacco smoke from his mouth in to the night air. "But they need to know the timeframe as to when your friends will make their move."

  Shota raised his head and looked Hank squarely in the eyes, his Japanese roots firmly showing.

  "Before we discuss that, I want to discuss the Englishman," Shota said with a serious face whilst rolling up his sleeves to display his bright yellow dragon tattoos with the Rising Sun above them. It was also time for the Texan to show his serious face in return.

  "Shota-San, you cannot kill him until after the plan has been completed," he said firmly with a narrow stare.

  Shota responded with a look of contempt and disgust.

  "Why?"

  "Because we need him to be the fall guy for your country's anger. My friends have set in motion a plan that will see him being compared to Stalin and a puppet of Putin within our media and best of all make him appear as a money-grabbing son of bitch! The man who is forcing me to put the prices up by his increasing his prices and whose's company is about to steal Japan's natural resources. The last thing we need is him being killed right now, son," Hank explained calmly to him.

  Shota looked at Hank again. Although he wasn't happy one of his many attributes was patience. So he listened as he did so Shota could see the man's point.

  "As soon as Azuchi Nobunaga Festival begins in two weeks," replied Shota referring to the a celebration that was named after the country's most famous Shogun Oda Nobunaga, a Samurai from the sixteenth century who to this day was still considered a gracious leader in the field of business and politics because he reconstructed an economy that had been based exclusively on agriculture to one that operated as a free market by focusing it on the manufacture of goods and services, and the building of international trade during his reign throughout Southeast Asia and Europe on Japan's terms.

  "We will kill him!" he stated loudly with authority and determination.

  "Good, Son," replied Hank lifting his glass as a way to indicate a thank you and continued, "Now I need to tell you what my people want in return."

  21

  New York City

  Zhang covered her mouth in surprise the second when she saw the gift of an apple basket by the side of box of Kee Ling Tong Chocolates from the famous store on 80 Thompson Street that was delivered by the Peninsula Hotel's bellboy.

  She quickly picked up the watermarked card in order to read who had sent the gift once the young man had placed it on the dining table of the suite. The second she saw the crest of the Litchfield family with its motto written underneath in Latin she knew who it was from.

  "Constantia et virtute," it said and although she didn't read Latin, Zhang, courtesy of the analysts of the MSS, nevertheless knew the meaning of the motto, "By constancy and virtue (or valor)."

  Zhang smiled then turned over the white woven card.

  On the back was handwritten message in Chinese:
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  "A gem is not polished without rubbing, nor a man perfected without trials." TL

  "Very clever," she thought in appreciation over the fact that, not only had he taken the time to send a gift of apples, because "ping guo" the name given to apples in Chinese sounded the same as peace, to indicate his surrender over the game they had played at the St. Regis yesterday, but also over the fact that he had matched it with the favorite guilty pleasure all women of her country loved due to the poor quality produced in their country and had sourced it from one the best stores in New York that catered for wealthy Chinese. To cap it all he had he chosen to use a Chinese proverb to express his interest in taking up the offer she had made in the bar.

  When she had first opened his file and had seen his picture she had been surprised just how handsome he was. Usually men in his position suffered from weight or hair loss issues. He still looked fit and lean and distinguished. Then when she had read his background she knew straight away he wasn't the typical type of "T?i b?n" (meaning eminent businessman) that she was usually assigned to seduce and suck-dry.

  Yet it wasn't his exceptional military record that impressed her, as far as Zhang was concerned it was his character traits that she found most interesting and dangerous at the same time. The MSS analysts described him as a being in the mold of a

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