‘Good,’ Mitsuya said. ‘Take her alive, whatever you do. Anyone she is with, make sure you kill them.’
‘Yes sir,’ came the confident reply, and Mitsuya settled down to listen to the action.
‘What?’ Nakamura asked in horror.
‘The man is in the lobby, with a teenage girl,’ the voice came back, a TMPD cop Nakamura had quickly stationed in the lobby as a lookout in case anything happened before his team could get there.
‘What are they doing?’
‘They – shit!’
‘What?
‘Yakuza!’ the panicked voice called out. ‘They’ve got – ’
But the man’s words were drowned out by what sounded like gunfire, and Nakamura knew things had already gone terribly wrong.
Cole had seen the four men entering the lobby ahead of them, seen the recognition on their faces, watched as their muscles tightened, hands going for concealed weapons.
In the blink of an eye, Cole pushed Michiko to one side and drew his pistol, firing off shot after shot toward the black-suited men, pinning them down as he raced to the side too, gathering Michiko up and sprinting for the passage back toward the garden lounge.
Screams and chaos erupted throughout the lobby as the four gunmen returned fire with automatic weapons, strafing the reception area with dozens of high-velocity rounds. Two men were hit by Cole’s pistol fire and went down, but the other two kept on firing; two hotel guests were hit, plant pots exploded, palms shredded, furniture destroyed in the assault.
Everyone else was down on their bellies, hugging the floor for dear life as the lobby turned into a war zone.
As he turned and ran, Cole saw one of the people on the floor whispering into a microphone and wondered who the hell he was; but knew he had no time to find out and just kept running toward the hopeful safety of the garden lounge, Michiko right by his side.
‘Shots fired!’ the man whispered urgently over the radio, and Nakamura gripped the steering wheel hard, teeth gritted. ‘Two yakuza down, guests hit! The man and the woman are running for it, back into the hotel, the other two yakuza are following!’
‘Stand fast,’ Nakamura said quickly; if the yakuza were at the front, they might well be elsewhere in the hotel too, and he had no wish to have the policeman killed in any crossfire. ‘Get first aid to the guests and wait for backup.’
‘Yes sir,’ came the reply, but Nakamura was already getting the leader of the Special Assault Team on the line; it was time to bring in the big boys.
Mitsuya heard what was happening over his radio link, two men down and the others chasing Michiko and the American back inside the hotel. So the man was with her, which would make things awkward; he just hoped that in his men’s desire to kill the American, they wouldn’t hit the girl by mistake.
He radioed through to the secondary team in the main building and instructed them to move toward the Garden Tower to cut the pair off, reminding them that Michiko was not to be harmed.
From his vantage point on top of the hotel, Mitsuya couldn’t see inside the lobby or the corridor, but he could make out the flashes of light as guns erupted, could hear the supersonic muzzle blasts.
He looked across the road, saw the police cars were almost there. But they would soon be too late; soon it would be all over.
Cole saw the four men racing through the corridor toward them, obviously summoned from the main lobby further on. They were pulling out their weapons from concealed slings underneath their suit jackets, and Cole recognized the compact H&K MP5 submachine guns as the men started to pull them up to waist height, eager to engage the rapidly approaching targets.
But Cole and Michiko were moving too quickly for them, cutting down on their time to react – and Cole suddenly took advantage of this, his pistol already up and aimed. He shot four times, two bursts of double taps which hit the first pair of gunmen in their chests, knocking them down hard.
He’d counted the shots and knew the weapon was now empty, but instead of stopping to look for cover, he grabbed Michiko and pushed her hard to the floor in front of him, stepping straight onto her back without missing a stride and jumping up and forward, kicking out in mid-air toward the man at the front of the group and burying the toe cap of his shoe right into the gunman’s face.
The man’s head snapped back and Cole landed, grabbing hold of the MP5; and – the unconscious yakuza still holding onto it through sheer reflex – Cole turned it toward the last man, opening fire and lacing a trail of 9mm rounds across the man’s torso, blood flying across the corridor.
Keeping hold of the weapon as the man he’d kicked in the face finally let go and sagged to the floor, Cole pivoted and fired over Michiko’s prone body, back down the corridor toward the Garden Tower lobby and the two other yakuza hoods who were approaching from the rear.
Cole’s rounds found their target and both men were hit multiple times in the body, neck and face, their own bullets hitting well wide of the mark, scoring the walls of the passageway with tiny holes.
Cole dropped the empty MP5 and ducked down to retrieve two more from the dead bodies, passing one to Michiko as he helped her back to her feet.
‘Wow,’ she said, half in shock and half in genuine admiration. ‘You’re good.’
‘It’s not computers,’ Cole said with a smile, ‘but I’m the same as you. It’s like music to me.’ He looked up and down the corridor, checking for other gunmen; stopped as he heard sirens approaching from the front.
‘Besides,’ he said, taking her hand and pulling her into the garden lounge which lay between the garden tower and the main building, ‘we have an advantage. They’ve been told not to hurt you, and that makes them slower to react.’
Michiko nodded, knowing it made sense, pleased because she knew they would need every advantage they could get.
‘Where are we going?’ she said as they raced through the empty lounge toward the rear of the building.
‘The garden,’ Cole said. ‘It’s still dark, we might be able to lose any other gunmen out there. And I don’t think you want to stay here for the police any more than I do.’
Michiko nodded again and ran faster, toward the glass doors which led out into the Japanese garden beyond.
Nakamura burst through the front doors of the New Otani’s garden tower, Glock pistol up and aimed, men on either side of him as they fanned out through the building.
The man he’d placed there as a spotter was still trying to give first aid to a gunshot victim, hands working hard on the woman’s chest in a desperate attempt to restart a heart that had long since failed.
Nakamura’s hand rested on the officer’s shoulder. ‘It’s okay,’ he said gently. ‘You’ve done enough.’
At that, the man nodded and rolled off the body, exhausted; and Nakamura headed further through the building, seeing dead body after dead body.
But none of them was the American, or the girl – which meant they might still be alive.
He looked around, saw the obvious way out through the garden lounge into the extensive, manicured Japanese gardens beyond, and knew that was where the pair had headed.
His radio broke in then, a gruff voice informing him that the assault team was almost there.
He was going to wait for them, but then gunfire erupted from the garden and he instinctively moved forward, toward the sound of battle.
Mitsuya saw Michiko and the American running into the garden, realized that they’d managed to get past the eight foot soldiers he’d sent inside.
He was astonished by the obvious skill of the American, but not totally disheartened – he’d assumed that the pair might make their way out somehow, and had other men positioned at key places around the hotel’s exterior. He had another dozen men hiding in the garden, waiting to ambush them. They could kill the man and take Michiko before the police ever made it through the foyer.
It would be close, but it could still be done.
He smiled nervously, and settled down to watch the fun.
Cole took in the sights around him in an instant – trimmed lawns tracing around the streams and pools that led to the hotels borders, an illuminated bright red bridge suspended over a dimly-lit waterfall, trees and bushes enveloping it all, some in light and some in shadow.
In the same instant, he sensed movement ahead of him, in the bushes to the right of the bridge, also in the trees to the left.
‘Left!’ Cole ordered Michiko, hoping she would react in time; as the words left his lips, he was already in action, diving right and opening up toward the dark bushes, using controlled bursts of fire from the MP5 to destroy the hidden enemy.
At the same time, his peripheral vision caught Michiko dodging left, opening up with the MP5 on full-auto; not the best method of hitting a target, but a good bet if you wanted to keep people pinned down.
Gunfire was returned from the shadows on Cole’s side, but it was sporadic and inaccurate; Cole pressed forward, still firing controlled bursts, until the shrubbery fell silent. Moments later, three men fell out of the dark bushes, onto the illuminated lawn, blood spreading in thick black pools across the grass.
He switched left, running to the tree line, firing alongside Michiko. There were grunts and screams as people were hit, but then Cole felt the hot singe of air above his shoulder as a round nearly hit him, fired from further to the left, and he realized that there were others out here too, and he couldn’t possibly know how many there would be.
He knew discretion would be the better part of valor here, and pulled Michiko to the side, avoiding the trail of bullets which traced after them, heading for the pool which lay to the left of the bridge.
He turned round and sprayed one last burst from his MP5 as he waded into the pool with Michiko next to him, keeping the yakuza pinned down for a few extra vital seconds.
The weapon was empty, but he kept hold of it anyway; it was better that his enemy didn’t know he was now unarmed. Michiko’s MP5 would also be empty after being fired on full-auto, but he was pleased to see that she also kept hold of it as they pushed further and further into the pool.
Cole heard movement around them as the yakuza gunmen edged toward the pool, and he knew they would be after blood. Michiko kept right next to him, and he knew what she was doing; if they couldn’t risk hitting her, then they might not shoot at Cole either if he was too close, especially in the semi-dark.
He glanced back, saw five or six men gathered round the edge of the pool, guns raised but unsure of themselves, wondering what to do; and then the pull of the waterfall finally reached Cole and Michiko and swept them out and over the edge, twenty feet down into the larger pool below, the breath knocked out of them.
But they were in the clear, for now at least; but it wouldn’t take Mitsuya’s men long to race down to the lower pool side and intercept them there. And so Cole kept on pushing forward, recovering from the fall and taking Michiko next to him as they headed for the trees surrounding the lower pool.
If they wanted to escape, speed was now everything.
‘Shit!’ Mitsuya cursed, as he watched Michiko and the American emerge from the lower pool and race into the tree line, his men not far behind, but far enough; in the dark, it would be difficult to see their targets, harder still to engage safely without hitting Michiko.
And the pair was so close to the hotel border now, so close to escape. But Mitsuya had men in cars working the area, and immediately contacted them, ordering them to converge on Sotobori Dori, the main road that led past the hospital on whose roof he sat, the road that separated the New Otani from Akasaka Palace and the gardens that lay behind a protective fence on the other side.
He watched as the pair worked their way through the hotel’s Japanese garden, so close to his position now that he wished he’d brought a sniper rifle onto the rooftop with him; he could have shot the American and taken out the girl’s protector, leaving it an easy task for his men to pick her up. But he had no rifle, and had to get on with things in the only way he could, by directing his people toward their targets.
He opened his mouth to speak, to guide his remaining forces in, but the bright flashes of gunfire, the sharp crack of bullets, caught his attention, and his eyes went back to the rest of the garden, saw the armed police teams spreading out and engaging his men one by one.
In horror, he watched as some fought back and were cut down by the professional SWAT team, as others lay down their guns and submitted to arrest.
‘Shit!’ he cursed again, knowing that his only chance now was for his men in cars to intercept the pair as they left the garden, if they could get there in time.
Another option occurred to him suddenly, and he understood that – if all else failed – then the police would be sure to catch them; and once in police custody, Mitsuya could talk to the right people, make the right pay-offs, and have Michiko back with him within a few days, if not hours.
They would get caught either way, he told himself; the TMPD special assault team were blocking off the garden route, and his own men would soon be in position on the bordering road. If Michiko and the American got out of the hotel grounds, they would need to cross the wide moat before they made it onto Sotobori Dori, which would give his men plenty of time to get there before them.
However, if they made the decision to stay low, not climb up to the elevated road but push on forward, underneath the road toward the boundary of Akasaka Palace, what would happen then? Mitsuya knew that, as the nation’s state guesthouse for visiting dignitaries, the palace and its grounds were also guarded by a unit of SAT officers, who would be on high alert.
If Michiko and the American made it that far, the SAT men would be ready and waiting for them.
Cole and Michiko had worked their way through the trees and reached the banks of the moat which lined the hotel’s western boundary, the already-busy Sotobori Dori raised high above them on concrete pillars to the other side.
They exchanged looks and nodded, then dove into the water, kicking out powerfully toward the far side.
Cole had heard gunshots behind them, screams, shouts of command, and knew the police must have arrived on the scene too; but then there was the sound of more shots fired nearby and the water around him started to ripple with the entry of bullets, and he realized some yakuza gunmen must have got past the police and followed them down there.
He immediately grabbed Michiko and pulled her under the water, heading down to the bottom, away from the lethal depth of the bullets, and kept on kicking toward the far bank.
Moments later they were across, and Cole tentatively raised his head from the murky, dark water, pleased that no more shots were fired. As Michiko came up next to him, he listened closely and heard the cops shouting at the yakuza, saw them surrendering in the inky twilight.
Cole and Michiko wasted no more time and pulled themselves out of the moat, dripping wet as they struggled up the bank, looking upwards at the concrete posts which led upwards to Sotobori Dori.
His gaze went under the bridge, toward the fences which protected the palace grounds; they raised up from ground level, past the elevated road above, and Cole knew they wouldn’t be able to get through without tools.
He looked left and right, up and down the bank, but was unsure.
‘If we stay here, the police will get us for sure,’ Michiko said.
Cole nodded, looking up. ‘Climb?’ he asked, knowing he would be able to, unsure about Michiko.
‘I’ll give it a go,’ she said with a nod of her head. ‘We need to get a car and get out of the city.’
‘You’re right,’ Cole confirmed, ‘the roads are our best chance.’
He glanced behind him again, saw the outline of police officers on the far bank. A voice came over a loudhailer soon after, the voice harsh.
‘He’s telling us to give ourselves up,’ Michiko translated.
‘I don’t think that’s an option,’ Cole replied, pulling Michiko forward to the nearest concrete pillar, giving her a leg-up to start the climb.
There were various hand and footholds, presumably for the use of maintenance crews, and Michiko climbed swiftly, confidently, and Cole followed right behind her, ready to help if she fell.
They were halfway up, their bodies becoming outlined against the pale concrete in the light of the encroaching dawn, and Cole began to feel terribly exposed.
No shots were fired from the opposite bank, but when Cole risked a glance backwards, he saw half a dozen armed police officers wading into the moat after them; the SAT men were highly trained professionals, and would be quick, Cole knew.
‘Come on,’ Cole urged Michiko, ‘they’re coming.’
Michiko looked back too, and Cole cursed himself for distracting her; for no sooner had she turned than her handhold was lost, then her footing, and she was left hanging precariously by the fingers of one hand from the sheer concrete façade, a shocked gasp escaping her mouth as she fell.
Cole instinctively secured his own position, grasping hold of Michiko’s legs and supporting them, his own weight now only supported through his feet as he used his hands to push Michiko’s legs back up, until she managed to re-secure her position on the pillar.
With a deep breath to control herself, Michiko looked back up and continued climbing. Cole didn’t bother to look back around at the SAT men; however close they were, there was nothing he could do about it now.
What a mess, Nakamura thought as he strode through the New Otani’s half-destroyed Japanese garden.
Bodies littered the manicured lawns, blood and tissue spilled across shrubs and foliage, all illuminated now by SAT floodlights and the ever-increasing light of the rising sun.
They’d managed to arrest several yakuza gunmen, but most had refused to surrender and been cut down by the SAT men. The current totals, as far as he could make out, were fifteen dead gangsters, two wounded police officers, and six dead or seriously wounded civilians; and they still hadn’t brought Richard Baxter or Aoki ‘Yamaguchi’ Michiko into custody.
NEVER SAY DIE: Mark Cole Takes On the Yakuza in His Most Thrilling Adventure Yet! Page 24
