NEVER SAY DIE: Mark Cole Takes On the Yakuza in His Most Thrilling Adventure Yet!

by J. T. Brannan

  The only trouble was explaining why he didn’t have a reservation, which had led him into telling the duty manager a tale of how he’d booked into the Grand Hyatt for the week, and how they’d messed up his booking and couldn’t give him the type of room he’d demanded. Cole explained that he’d been so disgusted with the service, he’d told the Grand Hyatt staff that he’d find another hotel, and walked out.

  The duty manager at the New Otani was obviously delighted to take business from one of its rivals, and he nodded seriously as Cole explained what he wanted.

  ‘Of course, sir,’ he said, ‘that will not be a problem at all. We have a suite available in our Garden Tower, with views of the city and our own Japanese garden.’

  ‘That will be satisfactory,’ Cole said, nodding in agreement.

  ‘Good,’ the man said, ‘good. I will just need to see your passport, Mr. . . .’

  ‘Browning,’ Cole said, handing over a passport from his suit pocket. With his identity as Richard Baxter now compromised – along with his ID and belongings back at his room at the Ritz Carlton – Cole had made a detour on his way to the New Otani.

  He and Michiko had taken a taxi from Asakusa south to Kanda, then walked the rest of the distance to Tokyo Station, the huge early twentieth century red brick edifice looking onto Marunouchi.

  Cole had been aware of their proximity to the Omoto-gumi headquarters, but knew that nobody would be expecting them back here; Mitsuya would be much more likely to suspect that they had fled the city altogether. Nevertheless, he had paid a long-haired student a few thousand yen to retrieve a briefcase from the station’s secure storage lockers and bring it to him.

  He had put it there on his first recon of the city during his first day here, knowing that he might be compromised at some stage. There were spare clothes, cash and credit cards, along with all the ID he needed for the persona of George Browning, international investment banker with HSBC.

  He had then continued on to the New Otani, watching for people following them at all times. He had split from Michiko then, knowing that any alert put out by the police would probably be for an American and a Japanese girl. He figured it was best to stay as low-key as possible, and so he arranged for the room while Michiko would enter later and make her way up to meet him. At a hotel as large as the New Otani, people came and went all the time, and Michiko would attract no attention by drifting through the lobby toward the banks of elevators; for all the staff knew, she belonged there just the same as any other guest.

  Within minutes, Cole had paid his deposit and received his key card. ‘Enjoy your stay,’ the manager said with a smile, ‘and I hope the New Otani meets your expectations.’

  ‘I’m sure it will,’ Cole said with a smile of his own, before turning away and heading for the Garden Tower.

  Michiko turned up at the room an hour later, unsure of what to expect. But, she figured, the hardest part was over – she’d actually turned up.

  She could easily have gone, fled Tokyo and her father, left behind the Omoto-gumi and the yakuza forever.

  But she couldn’t, not yet at least; she still hadn’t accomplished what she’d wanted all these years, had still not confronted her father and found out what had really happened between him and her mother all those years ago.

  He answered the door to her knock, turned his back to her and walked back inside, through a short hallway to the living area beyond. ‘I’m having a shower,’ he said, before pointing to the handgun which lay on the coffee table. ‘Keep guard of the place, okay?’

  Michiko nodded her head. ‘Okay,’ she said, watching as he entered the bathroom before her eyes reverted to the gun, a Brazilian Taurus 9mm based on the Berretta 92F. She’d seen them plenty of times before, in the hands of yakuza thugs, and she knew how to use it.

  The thought came to her immediately, years of conditioning from her ingrained beliefs rising to the fore; she could pick up the gun, walk into the bathroom and shoot Mark Cole dead through the shower curtain.

  Yes, she told herself, you could do that.

  You can do that.

  She looked at the gun again, picked it up, racked the slide back and then checked the magazine; fully loaded, with one already in the chamber. It was ready.

  But was she?

  She heard the shower start up, the sound of the high-powered jets of water making her think of her father there, helpless, ready and waiting to die by her hand.

  I can do it, she told herself.

  But will I?

  Cole felt the hot, powerful water massage his body with a feeling of blessed relief; the past couple of days had been rough on his body, and the action had taken its toll.

  But at the same time, he kept his ears open for the sound of Michiko coming into the bathroom to shoot him.

  He’d given her the gun on purpose, as a test. Did she still wish to harm him, to kill him? If so, it was better to find out now, before they went any further.

  There was a real danger that she’d shoot him, he knew; she had already tried it twice. And yet he had saved her twice too, and didn’t that count for something? But he was beginning to learn something of how the Japanese mind worked, and he knew that if she had pledged herself to killing him, to avow some alleged wrong, then she might not be able to stop herself; honor would override common sense and logic.

  He had considered leaving the weapon unloaded, or removing the firing pin, but had decided against it; if people found them and she was forced to defend herself, he would never forgive himself if she tried to shoot back with a sabotaged weapon.

  If she came for him, he just had to hope he was quick enough.

  Michiko sat on the couch, Taurus held in her small hands.

  She couldn’t kill him, despite the promises she had made, her obligations, the concept of giri, the memory of her mother; she was unsure of too much, no longer knew if he was the man she had thought him to be for so many years.

  He had saved her twice already, once at the ranch in Tucson, and then from the club in San’ya. Didn’t she owe him something for this?

  She knew all too well that leaving the gun for her had been a test. It had been loaded, but she wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d removed the firing pin or something; even if she tried to use it, there was no guarantee it would work.

  The thought of working with him was logical, she could see that. Perhaps he could get her out of Japan once and for all, maybe even back to America? He was the commander of an elite unit with the ear of the president herself; if anyone could help Michiko get away from here, it was Cole.

  And so – for now at least – she put aside all thoughts of killing him, put the gun down on the table in front of her, and waited patiently for him to return.

  Cole came back into the living area just minutes later, revived by the shower and wearing a fresh set of clothes.

  He was pleased to see the Taurus on the coffee table and not in her hands, pointed toward him; they were already making progress.

  He picked up the pistol, pocketing it. ‘Thanks for not shooting me,’ he said.

  Michiko shrugged. ‘I thought about it, then I realized it was probably just a test. You probably removed the firing pin or something.’

  Cole smiled. ‘I almost did,’ he said. ‘But in the end I decided to leave it alone. It works just fine.’

  Michiko shrugged again. ‘Whatever.’

  ‘Do you want to shower?’

  Michiko nodded, and moved past Cole toward the bathroom. She was quick, only minutes, and when she returned Cole was still going through what he was going to say in his own mind.

  She sat down heavily on the couch next to him, moving the wet hair from her eyes. ‘So,’ she said, ‘let’s talk.’

  Cole nodded. ‘Okay. Why don’t we start with what you think the story is.’

  Michiko nodded, and slowly started to recount her life story, including what Mitsuya and Chomo had told her about what he had done to her mother.

  When she got to that par
t, Cole tried to listen, tried to let her explain, but couldn’t stop himself. ‘Whoa,’ he said, holding up his hands to interrupt her, ‘that just isn’t true, believe me. I never raped her, you’ve got to trust me on that, at least on that. Nothing like that ever happened.’

  ‘So why don’t you tell me?’ she asked, suspicion in her voice.

  Cole sighed. ‘It’s true I was in Bangkok, on leave after a tour of Iraq. One night, I got separated from my friends, found myself down some back alleys, you know? I was drunk, but when I heard a woman crying, I sobered up quickly. I ran toward the sound, found three guys stood round a woman, beating her.’ He shook his head at the thought. ‘Sons of bitches. I managed to get rid of them, then took the woman – Aoki Asami, your mother – to the hospital, stayed with her while they patched her up.’

  Cole sighed again, stretching out his tired frame over the couch before carrying on with the story.

  ‘We talked a lot, we started to get on really well. I pretty much ignored my buddies after that, all I wanted to do was spend time with her. And that’s what we did, we spent all our time together. I don’t know about your mother, but I was head over heels in love, and I like to think that maybe she was too. But then they found us.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘I never found out, but probably guys connected to the three men I beat up in that alleyway, some Thai gang. They came for us in our hotel room armed with knives and hatchets.’ He shook his head, remembering the ordeal in all its hideous glory. ‘We got out of there, just barely escaped with our lives. But we got separated, I tried to see her again but never found her.’ He paused, remembering even more. ‘Somebody gave me a note later, from your mother, she’d asked them to pass it on to me.’

  ‘What did it say?’

  Cole’s eyes drifted off into the distance, into the past as he saw the note again in his mind’s eye, as if it was only yesterday; he could even see the paper moving ever so slightly in the light tropical breeze.

  ‘It said “I am safe. But I am afraid we can never see each other again. It is too dangerous, and I love you too much to do that to you. I am sorry. You will be in my heart forever.” And then she signed her name. Asami.’ Speaking the words, saying them out loud for the first time in his life, brought the crushing feelings of loss back to him with a vengeance and – despite himself – he was forced to wipe a tear away from his eye.

  ‘I know you might not believe me,’ Cole continued, monitoring Michiko to see if her face gave away any hint about her emotions, ‘but it’s true, everything I’ve said. Just think about it. If I’d done what you said, what Mitsuya and Chomo told you I’d done, what am I doing here now? Why would I care?’ He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry I’ve missed out on your life, sorry for everything that’s happened to you, but I never knew about you, I promise. The first thing I knew about it was after shooting you back at the ranch.’ He gave a self-conscious smile. ‘And I’m still sorry about that, too.’

  Michiko’s gaze softened, and she even smiled slightly herself. ‘It wasn’t how I saw things happening,’ she admitted. ‘But I guess I did have a gun aimed at you, so your response wasn’t unreasonable. I should probably thank you for aiming at my shoulder, but I don’t think I can bring myself to do that.’

  Cole’s smile widened, and he knew she was being won over to his side. ‘Do you believe me?’ he whispered.

  Michiko closed her eyes, leaned back against the plump leather cushions of the couch. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘What you say makes so much sense, it even ties in with the facts better than the story I’ve believed all these years. But the problem is that the story I was told, it’s become a part of me, you know? I was just ten, my mother had been killed, people came and took me away, but they were nice, they looked after me, gave my life a purpose. I believed what they told me, and all the years I spent thinking about it, about you and what you’d done, they’ve made me who I am today. I’m not sure I know how to believe anything else now.’

  Cole leaned forward, looking at her. His daughter. Something he’d never thought he’d have again – a second chance.

  ‘You have to believe what I told you,’ he said. ‘It’s the truth.’

  She nodded her head slowly, thoughtfully. ‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘Maybe. But let’s face facts – we don’t even know if you are my father, not for sure.’ She looked at Cole, uneasy. ‘You slept with her, okay; and she became pregnant with me soon after. But that doesn’t mean you’re the one. She might have – ’

  Cole held up his hands. ‘Michiko, stop, you don’t have to – ’

  ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ve not been logical about this for so many years, now I have to start thinking, work it all out properly. So,’ she continued, ‘it might have been you, it might have been someone else. A lover, or maybe she was raped, maybe by someone else. It could even be Mitsuya,’ she said with obvious disgust.

  ‘Okay,’ Cole confirmed, ‘you’re right, we can’t be sure. Didn’t your mother ever say anything about your father, though? Didn’t she give you any clues?’

  ‘She did,’ Michiko said, thinking. ‘She didn’t talk about it a lot, but she said she’d loved him and things just hadn’t worked out. She must have said other stuff over the years too, because I got the impression that whoever it was, he was an American, in the military.’

  Cole nodded. ‘Sounds like me,’ he said. ‘Could be me.’

  ‘Could be,’ Michiko said. ‘When Mitsuya and Chomo told me their version of what happened in Bangkok, it confirmed the background, although it turned my admiration into hatred.’

  ‘The fact that the father was an American wouldn’t have sat well with Mitsuya,’ Cole said. ‘The Thai gang must have told him that it was an American who’d fought with them, and then when he heard about the pregnancy, he would have put two and two together.’

  ‘It does make sense,’ Michiko confirmed. ‘It could have been another American I guess, but you still look like number one.’ She smiled at him genuinely for the first time. ‘And either way, you’ve got to be better than the man who adopted me.’

  Cole nodded. ‘Yeah, he’s one sick bastard.’

  ‘You don’t know the half of it,’ Michiko said bitterly, and Cole could only wonder what the girl had seen, what she had been through over the years. It filled him with horror to think of what work she had been put up to at that club in San’ya. She was of immense value to the Omoto-gumi, and he was sure that people had paid a high price for her over the years. He wondered when it had all started, how young she had been, but then cut off the thoughts entirely; they were too painful for a father – even an as-yet unconfirmed father – to dwell upon.

  ‘You worked at that club?’ Cole asked warily.

  Michiko nodded her head. ‘In a way,’ she said, obviously uncomfortable talking about it.

  ‘I heard you’re called kogani no ojo,’ Cole said gently. ‘There’s a lot of interest in you from the police, you know.’

  ‘I know,’ Michiko said. ‘They want to find out why I’m the golden princess, just the same as the other yakuza gangs do. In fact, a lot of the cops who ask questions are doing it on behalf of the gangs, you can’t trust any of them.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Cole said gently. ‘I don’t need to know about the club.’

  Michiko’s eyes opened in realization. ‘You think I work there as a whore?’ she asked in surprise. ‘Is that what you think?’

  Cole shrugged. ‘I don’t think anything, I have no idea what you do. I’ve seen the club though, and – ’

  ‘And you went right ahead and made assumptions, didn’t you? Young girl, yakuza club, what else could it be, right?’ She shook her head in disbelief. ‘You men are all the same, can’t believe women are capable of anything else except serving you. You make me laugh, you really do. I can’t believe the arrogance of it!’

  As Michiko spoke, Cole was torn; he was sorry he had offended her, but was at the same time delighted – truly delighted – that his assumptions had b
een wrong. It was a sudden relief, a great weight off his mind and soul.

  ‘Do you really think,’ Michiko continued, not finished yet, ‘that Mitsuya would have his daughter – even his adopted daughter – turning tricks in a nightclub? He might have wanted me to, but from a status point of view, that was never going to happen. Do you know nothing of the Japanese? There’s no way he would have allowed that to happen.’

  Cole’s shoulders sagged, indicating his defeat. ‘You’re right. It was arrogant of me. I’m sorry. But what is it about you that makes you so valuable?’

  Michiko looked far off into the distance, into the past. ‘You know, when Mitsuya turned up at our house in Ashmore, I was convinced that he was going to kill me. Even at that age, I could see it in his eyes. But then his brother saw what I was doing, and stopped him. He must have signaled him or something, I saw a look between them and then that killing fire in Mitsuya’s eyes was gone. Chomo was – is – a very clever man. He saw my potential right away, knew that he might be able to use it.’

  ‘But what were you doing?’ Cole asked.

  ‘I was working,’ Michiko said. ‘Working on a computer. Well, actually I was working on three computers at the same time, developing my own programs, networking the systems together.’

  ‘You’re a computer genius or something?’ Cole asked.

  Michiko nodded her head unselfconsciously. ‘Yes, pretty much. It’s all I’ve ever known, the only thing I’ve ever been good at. And I am good at it, believe me. That’s why my mother worked all hours, to afford my computers, pay for me to go to lessons outside of school. I’d been working toward a scholarship at ANU, the Australian National University in Canberra, they’d got this amazing program for talented teens. I was only ten at the time, but I was way ahead of the other candidates and knew I’d get in. My mother was planning on packing us up and moving us over there as soon as I was accepted.’ She looked away, saddened. ‘But we never got the chance.’