Thomas Caine series Boxset

by Andrew Warren

  “Call me Tom. I’m glad you know my name. It was getting awkward hearing you call me Waters-san all the time. So what’s this all about?”

  Kenji stopped in the middle of the street, ten feet away from Caine. He slid his hands in his pockets, arched his back, and smiled. “This is about family. It’s about my father. Isato Yoshizawa.”

  Caine looked at Kenji warily. “Does he know you’re here?”

  “He doesn’t know anything anymore. He’s dead.”

  Caine gritted his teeth. So Isato was gone. The man had been a criminal, a killer for sure, but in some strange way, Caine had felt a kinship with the old man, a connection of some kind. Now that the connection was severed, he felt a pang of loss. “I’m sorry to hear that. I really am.”

  Kenji took a few more steps forward. He leaned closer and murmured, “I’m sure you are, Tom. I’m sure you are. Because, these men here, they’re under the impression you killed him.”

  “What? Why on Earth would they think that?”

  “Because that’s what I told them.”

  “Kenji, what are you—”

  Kenji cut him off. “I don’t have time to explain it. You have something I want. Give it to me, and I’ll tell them the truth.”

  Caine dipped a hand into his jacket. He saw the gunmen tense, but Kenji smiled and nodded. He slipped out the small silver hard drive and held it up so the others could clearly see it.

  “You mean this, don’t you? This is what Kusaka wanted. Now you want it. You’re working with him, aren’t you? You’re his mole inside the Yoshizawa clan.”

  Kenji reached out for it, but Caine pulled it back from his grasp. The young man’s face flushed with anger, but Caine also glimpsed shock and fear there. The kid was in over his head. He was struggling to tread water in a situation that had escalated beyond his control.

  “Kenji, what’s on this drive? What is Kusaka planning? It’s not too late. You can help me stop it. We can fix this.”

  “Are you fucking crazy? It’s not too late? My father is dead. This is all I have now. If this doesn’t work, then everything ... my father ... it was all for nothing!”

  Kenji’s features hardened. “I’m not gonna let that happen. Give me that drive, or I swear my men will shoot you down and I’ll take it from your corpse. But first, I’ll make the cop lady beg for a bullet in the head.”

  Kenji gestured at his men, and the man holding Mariko shoved her forward. She stumbled and fell to the pavement. Cursing, she blew her hair out of her face and stood back up. The gunman led her to the middle of the street, stopping just behind Kenji. The yakuza looked back and forth between the two men with a confused expression on his face.

  Kenji held out his hand. “The drive. Stop wasting my time, and you can have her back in one piece.”

  “Hitomi, too.”

  Kenji shook his head. “She’s not part of the deal. Kusaka has other plans for her.”

  “You disgusting little piece of trash,” Mariko hissed. The gunman clubbed her on the back of the head, and she dropped to her knees.

  Caine looked into Kenji’s eyes. He saw pain, uncertainty, even fear. But he also saw neglect and determination. What he didn’t see was a way out. He held the drive out to Kenji. “Your father would be ashamed of you, Kenji.”

  The young man grabbed it. “My father never saw my value and look where it got him.” He stared at the drive in his hands. “All this over a fucking hard drive. Unbelievable.”

  He turned around and walked back to his car. “Sorry, Tom,” he called over his shoulder, “but from what I understand, you’re a pretty coldhearted bastard yourself.” Then he spoke in Japanese to his men. “Kill them both.”

  Caine went for his pistol, but before he could draw, Mariko whipped into action.

  She leapt to her feet, crashing the top of her head into the jaw of the gunman who stood behind her. Keeping her body close, she pushed backwards, keeping his gun arm outside and to her right. She stamped down with her right heel, crushing the man’s instep. He fell to his knees, yelping in pain.

  As Caine’s gun cleared his waistband, Mariko spun out of the way, giving him a clear shot at the yakuza thug. Caine fired two bullets into the man’s shoulder, then aimed for his head.

  Before he could pull the trigger again, a sudden explosion of light blinded him. A burst of wind ruffled his hair, and a deafening roar descended from above. The spotlights of a helicopter beamed down, sweeping back and forth across the area.

  Kenji and his men were equally surprised by the arrival of the police choppers. “Let’s move!” Kenji shouted. His men scattered.

  Kenji dove into his white Lexus. The engine roared to life, and he tore down a side street. As he fled, Caine caught a glimpse of Hitomi staring at him from the rear window. A split second later, they were gone.

  A line of police cars, lights blazing and sirens screaming, charged down the street. Mariko kicked the wounded yakuza’s gun away from them and jogged over to Caine. “We don’t have much time. Cut me loose!”

  Caine pulled out his knife and slit her plastic restraints. The police cars skidded to a halt. Within seconds, a squad of men in blue jumpsuits and body armor surrounded them. They were wielding submachine guns, and a few were armed with sniper rifles as well. As the men began to fan out into assault positions, a loud speaker on the helicopter blared at them in Japanese.

  “Mariko—” Caine began, but she interrupted him before he could finish.

  “It’s Tokyo Special Unit. Like your SWAT teams.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “There’s only one way this goes down where you live. Do you understand?”

  Caine nodded. He handed her his pistol, kneeled on the ground, and put his hands on his head. As the assault team jogged towards them, weapons at the ready, Mariko pulled out her badge and held it up. She pointed the pistol at Caine’s head.

  “Thomas Caine,” she said, “you are under arrest.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  There was no clock on the wall in the Tokyo Metro Police detention room. The walls were, in fact, empty of any decoration. Just four sterile white slabs. Still, Caine’s internal clock told him it was morning. He had dozed off in fits and spurts since they’d locked him in here. During that time, no one had spoken to him or come to check on him. He had not seen a single soul.

  They called it a holding room, not a jail. These rooms were for people awaiting interrogation. But the metal table bolted to the floor, the handcuffs chained to a loop on the table ... they told a different story.

  He had not been charged with any crimes, but his situation here was every bit as bleak as before, when he sat rotting in the Big Tiger prison. And this time, it didn’t seem like Rebecca would be coming to his rescue.

  Rebecca ... his thoughts wandered to her. Had Bernatto lied on the phone? Had he killed her? Or had she escaped him? If she was free, why hadn’t she made contact?

  Caine shook his head to dislodge the dark thoughts from his mind. Mariko said she would talk to her boss, a director in the First Public Security Division of the Keisatsu Cho. She was certain she could convince him there was new evidence of Kusaka’s involvement in Tokyo Black. And that Caine was vital to the case against him.

  Caine wasn’t so sure.

  He knew the corrupting influence of money and power. If Hitomi was right, then Mariko’s superiors had been protecting Kusaka all along. They would turn a blind eye to any new evidence she presented. It was bureaucratic self-preservation. When a lie was uncovered, the lie simply grew bigger. It devoured whatever new truths came to light.

  Like Hitomi had said, there were some things you couldn’t escape. He had been a fool to believe otherwise.

  The small red light of a security camera mounted in the corner blinked on and off. They were recording him. He wondered if Mariko was watching him right now.

  Without warning, the door swung open. Two armed men in police uniforms entered and took up positions at either side of the door. He was about to have visitors. May
be Mariko had some news. He allowed himself a flicker of hope.

  A friendly looking man in a sharp business suit entered into the room. He sighed and took a seat across the table.

  Arinori Kusaka nodded his greeting at Caine. His wide grin wrinkled the corners of his eyes as he studied Caine’s face for a moment. The heavyset man spoke in a warm, gravelly voice.

  “Not who you were expecting, I take it? Well, that’s okay. I like to surprise people. Keeps life interesting.”

  Caine stared into Kusaka’s eyes. “What do you want?”

  The old man chuckled. “That’s quite a question, isn’t it? Well, let’s establish the ground rules first. Look up there ... see the camera?” Kusaka pointed, and Caine looked at the camera again. The red light was no longer blinking.

  “Normally, they record everything that goes on here. Phone calls, interrogations, you name it. But me? I’m just a good citizen who has served his country. And I’ve contributed quite generously to the police department. So, as you can imagine, they accord me certain favors. Privacy is one of them. Access to interesting prisoners like you is another. That should tell you something.”

  “It tells me power corrupts just as much in Japan as anywhere else.”

  “Well, that’s one way of looking at it, I suppose. It should also tell you that I find you interesting.”

  Caine shrugged. “Well, I don’t like to brag....”

  Kusaka slapped his hands on the table. “Since you’ve arrived in Japan, you’ve been quite a thorn in my side. And Bobu Shimizu’s as well.”

  “Your choice in partners has caused you more trouble than I ever could,” Caine said. “Bobu isn’t exactly what I’d call stable. And Bernatto is a traitor to his own country.”

  “Funny, that’s what your file says about you, Mr. Caine. That’s about all it says, in fact. Bernatto told me you were a deep cover operative. That seems to be an understatement. In fact, your cover identities seem to have more history than you do. The fiction is more true than the reality.”

  Caine said nothing.

  Kusaka sighed and leaned back. “Well, at any rate, you’re right about poor old Bobu. That scar on his face....” Kusaka hissed and shook his head. “Strange man. But at least he’s committed. His part in this will be over soon. And Bernatto? Well, he lost his nerve, tried to stop what we set in motion together. But now that the drive is back in my possession, he has no leverage. No way to extricate himself without exposing his involvement. He’ll play ball now—for as long as I need him to, at any rate.”

  “All right, you’ve got me curious. What have you and Bernatto set in motion?”

  Kusaka was silent for a second. When he spoke, his voice went flat. “For decades, I’ve watched my country sink into decay and submission. Our military presence in the Pacific has been neutered. Our economy continues to stagnate and fail. Our youth have lost their way. And in the mad scramble to hold onto whatever scraps we can, our values have been compromised. We have become a shadow of ourselves, just as you are a shadow of the man you once were. Weakened by pain and loss. Hiding, licking our wounds. Meanwhile, our true enemy grows stronger. Their power and influence increase with each passing day.”

  The chains around Caine’s wrists clinked as he shifted his hands. “And who exactly is the true enemy? Because right now, I’ve got to tell you, I’ve kind of lost count.”

  “You joke, Mr. Caine. I like that. I like to tell jokes, too. It puts people at ease, makes them underestimate me. Oh, I’m not a vindictive man, but I like to think most of my enemies have fallen with a smile on their face.”

  Caine leaned forward. “Let’s get one thing straight, Kusaka-san. You don’t scare me. I’ve faced death, and I’ve faced pain. I’ve sure as hell faced men like you, more than I can count. Most of them are in the ground. So, if you came here to talk, then talk. If you came here to gloat, have your fun. But don’t think for a minute you intimidate me.”

  “I see now why you’ve caused me so much trouble. You have the fire inside you. Like Bobu. And that girl, Mariko. You know what you are, Mr. Caine? You’re a goddamn ronin! A true hero, right out of a fairy tale.”

  Caine shook his head. “I’m no hero.”

  “Whatever you say. As to your question, we don’t have much time left, Mr. Caine. Let’s just say that, as Japan has fallen, an old enemy has risen to new heights of industrial and economic power.”

  “China,” Caine said.

  “Yes, China. The United States and Japanese governments have done their dance of diplomacy and trade. Both are blinded by greed and willful ignorance. Each is afraid the other will seduce this powerful new ally and turn against the other. Meanwhile, China grows more and more powerful every day. And history tells us war is inevitable. And when war with China comes, as things stand now, we will both lose.

  “Men like Bobu have the will to take action against this enemy. But protests and marches, beating up immigrant business owners ... that is not the way to defeat this enemy. He lacked the scope of vision necessary. I gave him that vision. And Bernatto shared my vision as well. He helped with the technical particulars.”

  “That’s what’s on the drive?” Caine asked. “Information from Bernatto?”

  Kusaka smiled. “Ah, so you weren’t able access the drive, were you? I was curious. I took great pleasure in questioning Hitomi about that. Now I know she wasn’t lying.”

  “Where is Hitomi now? What did you do with her?”

  Kusaka waved his hand in the air, dismissing Caine’s concerns with the gesture. “Don’t waste your time on Hitomi. That girl ... she’s my one bad habit. The weakness I just can’t kick. I suppose it’s better this way. Now that she’s back where she belongs, under my control, I can give her a proper goodbye.”

  “You know that’s your daughter you’re talking about?”

  Kusaka’s face flared with anger, and he pounded the table with his fist. “What do you know about it? You think she’s the first girl to show up at my door? Desperate for money, for a better life? For the acknowledgement of my blood in her veins? She’s another example of the cancer eating this country from the inside out!”

  Caine watched Kusaka build himself into a seething rage. The old man’s eyes stared forward, but they were no longer focused on Caine. It was as though Kusaka was looking through him, not even seeing him. Somehow he saw the object of his rage and anger instead.

  “Just a half-breed whore!” he shouted. “I don’t care who she is. I don’t care what she is. All she means to me is—”

  Caine lunged forward, cutting off Kusaka’s rant in mid-sentence. Grabbing the metal ring in front of him, he swung his legs up into the air and slid his body forward on the table. The old man lurched backwards, but he was too late. Caine’s legs clamped around his neck.

  Kusaka gasped for breath. He strained to break free of the hold, but Caine locked his ankles and twisted his torso. Using his legs, he dragged Kusaka forward onto the table. Then he began to squeeze.

  “I don’t care who you are either,” Caine hissed through gritted teeth. He clenched his legs tighter.

  The door exploded open. Five Caucasian men wearing body armor and tactical gear stormed into the room. Caine looked up. White guys, unmarked body armor, grey polo shirts ... definitely private security contractors, he thought. Probably on the CIA’s payroll.

  “Jesus Christ!” one of them exclaimed. “What the fuck is this?” The Japanese official escorting them began shouting in Japanese.

  Kusaka threw his body weight back and forth, struggling to dislodge Caine’s chokehold. One of the contractors walked up to Caine, raised his rifle into the air, and slammed it down on Caine’s skull. The blow snapped his head back, but he held his grip on Kusaka.

  The contractor slammed the rifle down two more times, and Caine’s body collapsed. He slumped down on the table, and his legs went limp.

  The old man leapt up, coughing and gagging. One of the contractors helped him stand. “Are you all right, sir?”

&
nbsp; Kusaka pushed the man away. “I’m fine,” he sputtered, overcome with another fit of coughing. “Just get him the hell out of here. I’m sure you have your orders.”

  “Yes, sir,” he answered and turned back to his men. “Secure the prisoner!”

  Caine rolled over on the table. Blood streamed from the impact wound on his temple. He stared up at the man who had battered him and spit blood into the air.

  The man leaned in close and whispered into his ear. “Bernatto says hi, asshole.”

  Then he clubbed Caine across the face one more time. Caine’s vision went dark.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Mariko flung open the door to office 257, the office of her superior. She marched up to his desk as his assistant rushed in behind her. “Excuse me,” the flustered young woman said. “I told you Director Yamamoto is on an important call. You can’t just—”

  Mariko glared at the woman, and her complaints died down to a whimper. A middle-aged man with a long, gaunt face and thinning grey hair held a phone receiver to his ear.

  His uniform’s silver buttons and trim gleamed with a polished shine. Behind him, the windows of his office offered a breathtaking view of the morning sun as it rose over the bustling Tokyo metropolis.

  Director Yamamoto looked at Mariko, then turned to his assistant. “It’s fine, Hiro-chan,” he said. “You can leave us.”

  He spoke into the phone. “Hai. I understand. The security team has been granted access to the prisoner. He will be placed in their custody. We will not interfere. Thank you, sir.”

  He hung up and shot a weary glance towards Mariko. “Officer Murase. Please, sit down.”

  Mariko did not sit. “Sir, you’re turning over Caine without a debriefing? No questioning, no interrogation? I wasn’t even allowed access to him, and he’s my prisoner!”

  “Sit down!”

  The director’s voice sharpened, but Mariko stayed where she was. “Sir, did you at least read my report? I’ve uncovered new evidence that—”