by Easton, Don
“You have honour,” conceded Fukushima, “but your barbarian tongue will also be taught respect before I let you die.”
Jack stared back in silence before bowing deeply, as did Fukushima.
A quick upward thrust of Jack’s hand and a flash of metal alerted everyone that something was amiss. It takes two seconds for the body to respond to a given stimulus. By then, Fukushima’s terrified scream filled the room, as Jack, using a dinner fork with both outer prongs bent down, pierced his eye socket with the two inner prongs, popping his eyeball out like a plump grape.
Fukushima tried to leap back, but Jack’s other hand held the back of his head as he rotated the fork, before moving and wrapping his arm around Fukushima’s throat from behind, while his other hand positioned the bloody fork close to Fukushima’s other eye.
Laura was the first to react. She had seen Jack take her fork a moment before while the others were looking at the bottle of sake being waved above her head. She now turned and smashed the end of the bottle on the table.
Sayomi’s reflexes responded at this moment, jumping and throwing a side-kick aimed at Jack’s temple. Her mind was focused, blocking out the sound of chaos around her as her body moved to deliver the fatal blow.
It was not until the broken end of a sake bottle rammed deep, twisting into her face that Sayomi’s brain connected the reason why Laura smashed the bottle when Fukushima first screamed.
Sayomi’s kick flailed in the air as she felt Laura’s arm around her throat from behind as they fell to the floor. Laura quickly rolled over on her back, using Sayomi’s body on top of her for cover.
Sayomi struggled and felt the sharp edges of the broken bottle on her mouth and nose. She tried to grab at the bottle with her fingers but Laura twisted it deeper into her already shredded lips and broken teeth.
“Don’t try it, karate girl,” warned Laura. “Or this older woman will show you something you don’t want to learn.”
Da Khlot, along with the others, pointed their guns toward Jack, who was hunched low over Fukushima. Sayomi was not their concern.
“Back off!” yelled Jack, over Fukushima’s screaming, “Or I pop his other eye and ram this fork through his brain!”
Fukushima raised his hand to cup his eyeball dangling from his eye socket.
“Put your hand down,” warned Jack, “or I’ll shish kabob your eyeball and your brain!”
Fukushima lowered his hand and Da Khlot stared at the eyeball dangling and swaying across Fukushima’s cheek. He saw the desperate and determined look on Jack’s face as their eyes met and Jack started to twist the fork into the corner of Fukushima’s remaining eye.
“Okay, stop,” yelled Da Khlot, before turning to the others and shouting a command in Japanese. Some of the men hesitantly lowered their guns, while two didn’t. Da Khlot yelled again and the remaining two immediately obeyed.
“He won’t die from what I’ve done,” said Jack.
“I know that,” replied Da Khlot in a monotone voice. “Let him go and it will be easier on you.”
“Like hell I will!” yelled Jack. “All of you get the fuck out of here! Now! Close the door behind you!”
Da Khlot shook his head so Jack put more pressure on Fukushima’s eye.
“Do what he says!” spluttered Fukushima.
The men quickly filed out of the room as the sound of Sayomi’s crying and babbling became louder.
“Let her go, too, Laura,” said Jack.
Sayomi ran for the door with her bloody hands covering her face.
“Remember,” yelled Laura, “youth, vitality, and speed are no match for wisdom, experience, and treachery!”
Jack, in shock, stared briefly at Laura. Make sure I never piss a woman off about her age.
As soon as the three of them were alone, Jack told Laura to get his phone and call for help.
Laura connected with Rose and yelled, “Help — Jack, behind you!”
Jack spun around and saw he had moved dangerously close to the back wall. Da Khlot’s shadow faded from view on the other side as Jack quickly backed toward the centre of the room.
“Rose, we need help,” yelled Laura. “Tell them we’re in the banquet room. Main level.”
“Leave the phone on, put it on the table, and grab a sword,” said Jack. “Crouch down close to the door. If someone comes in, do what you can to take them down and grab their gun.”
“You are a barbarian,” sputtered Fukushima. “You have no honour.”
“Guess you’re right,” replied Jack.
“You will die!” seethed Fukushima, as his pain was transgressed by rage. “The both of you will die.”
“We all will someday,” replied Jack. “You first, I bet.”
“You are Canadian police officers,” said Fukushima. “You should not even be here.”
“You had Lee murder a Canadian citizen,” replied Jack, “who, for your information, was an honourable man. Gives us plenty of reason.”
“You are here because of him?” replied Fukushima in disbelief. “He was nobody! Why does it matter about him?”
“Nobody?” said Jack harshly. “Do not use that word! He was somebody! Somebody’s son. He was a friend of my wife and was a much better human being than you could ever —-”
The sound of a police siren pierced the air from down the hill, bringing an epiphany of shouts and yelling from outside the banquet room. Shadows from a group of men appeared through the rice-paper walls and doors on the opposite side of the room from where Jack stood hunched over Fukushima.
Da Khlot crouched and waited behind the wall separating him by slightly over an arm’s length from where Jack held Fukushima inside the room. He used his cellphone to whisper an order to his men.
Jack saw the doors slide open a crack and automatically reefed Fukushima backward when he saw a glimpse of a pistol as a man peeked through. Laura crouched to one side, out of sight, holding the samurai sword at the ready.
“Close it!” screamed Jack. “Or fuck-you-shima dies!”
Fukushima felt the two prongs from the fork on the outer corner of his eye socket slide over the last bump of bone as it began to travel inside his eye socket. His command screamed in Japanese caused the doors to slide shut again.
Da Khlot caught a glimmer of Jack’s larger figure draped over Fukushima, but it faded from view again. He could hear the words clearly through the walls as the men argued.
“I want you to know something, Jack Taggart,” said Fukushima. “I gave the command to my men. Whoever fills the honour of killing you will be greatly rewarded. If you do not have the honour to die tonight, you should know that whatever family you have — mother, father, wife, or children — they will be found and take your place.”
“Is that why Lee was so loyal?” asked Jack. “Is that what you call honour and loyalty? You pompous ass! You are not only a disgrace to the Japanese people; you are a disgrace to the human race.”
“Who are you to say that?” replied Fukushima. “A lowly policeman. A servant for the people. You are nobody.”
“I told you not to use that word,” said Jack, angrily.
Da Khlot knew that a bullet in Jack may penetrate through to Fukushima, but he had no such worry about the knife he held in his hand. The only worry was the element of surprise. If Jack would move closer, it would be easy to stab through the rice-paper wall and penetrate the top of the spinal cord, paralyzing Jack before he could react and plunge the fork deep into his master’s brain.
If that opportunity presented itself, he would bust through the wall simultaneously while carrying out the second penetration, plunging the knife into the side of Jack’s neck. He would grab his falling body by the hair with one hand and use his other hand to slash through to the front of Jack’s throat, severing his jugular in an outward motion from behind. Death would be unavoidable and would take place within a few gurgling seconds as he lay on the floor while his brain tried to comprehend.
When the others opened the doors f
or a peek, Da Khlot almost had that chance. If his men yelled and rattled the doors again, it might give him the opportunity. The police vocally announced their arrival into the main entrance of the building. He had little time.
Da Khlot whispered once more into his cellphone before putting it down. Seconds later, the walls shook from hands slapping and banging on the walls and doors on the far side of the room. Sounds and vibrations made by men running and commands being screamed by the police added to the din.
Da Khlot saw his chance when Jack’s towering shadow came into view, brushing his back against the wall in front of him. He did not give Jack the opportunity to move away. He lunged forward, his knife making a crisp sound as the tip sliced through the rice paper and deep into Jack’s neck.
Da Khot heard the sound of the vertebrae as he twisted the knife before withdrawing it. The head nodded and rolled to one side and the body went limp as Da Khlot smashed through the wall, grabbing Jack by the hair while stabbing deep into the side of his neck and slashing outwards, severing the jugular. His momentum caused all three men to fall to the floor.
Screaming from across the room announced the arrival of a squad of police officers. Da Khlot looked at Jack’s face … awash in blood. It was the first time Da Khlot had truly smiled since he was eleven years old.
He obeyed the police command to drop his knife and stand with his hands in the air. He was not concerned. The Shaman will look after me. Everything would be okay. He is, after all, The Shaman.
It was not until Jack stood up that Da Khlot stepped back in horror. He stared down at The Shaman, who lay gasping and gurgling as his severed jugular sprayed blood onto Da Khlot’s pant legs.
Da Khlot’s brain tried to unscramble the unfathomable. It … it is not possible! The Westerner’s shadow … I saw it. Da Khlot trembled as he stared down at his master, whose twitching lips and one bulging eye expressed a silent terror as he died.
40
It was late the following Friday afternoon when Rose was summoned to Assistant Commissioner Isaac’s office. He waited until she sat comfortably in the chair in front of his desk before asking, “How are Corporal Taggart and Constable Secord doing?”
“Remarkably well, sir, considering the trauma they both went through,” replied Rose. “They took the week off, but both said they would be in on Monday. It seems a little premature to me. Jack also has to schedule some appointments with a cosmetic surgeon in regard to a slice taken out of his nostril.”
“Have they seen the Force psychologist yet?”
“Scheduled for Monday afternoon.”
“He may decide that they’re not ready to return to duty yet.”
Rose smiled to herself and said, “I suspect he will decide whatever Jack wants him to decide. Laura, too, quite likely.”
“Meaning?”
Rose shrugged and said, “Meaning they’re both good operators. They’re good at controlling situations and people to produce the results they want.”
Isaac nodded in agreement and said, “What you said does support a theory I have about what happened leading up to Fukushima’s murder.”
“A theory?” replied Rose. “I have read the report our LO sent from the Japanese police. It seemed pretty thorough to me. One of Fukushima’s bodyguards tried to kill Jack, but instead stabbed his boss to death.”
“Yes, and when the bodyguard made that mistake, Corporal Taggart was present.”
“Jack was not to blame! His presence was just coincidental to the mistake the bodyguard made.”
“Coincidental? Coincidence? Where have I heard those words before?”
“Sir, it was a coincidence. The bodyguard has already confessed to the Japanese police.”
“I am aware of that,” replied Isaac. “Several Japanese police officers actually witnessed the murder as they entered the room. Although they were so appalled and shocked at seeing Lee’s severed head and body, along with Fukushima getting his throat slashed, that I understand they were in a state of confusion as to exactly what was taking place and by who.”
“They did see it, though,” replied Rose. “There was no doubt that the bodyguard murdered Fukushima. He confessed to everything, including giving a detailed account of the murder here.”
“The murder of the homeless person in the park,” said Isaac, nodding his head.
“Sir, his name was Melvin Montgomery,” noted Rose.
Isaac looked curiously at Rose and asked, “Sounds like you have a personal interest?”
“No,” replied Rose. “It just sounds more decent giving him a name.” God, I’m glad Jack isn’t here. He’d never let me forget it.
“I agree,” replied Isaac. “In any event, the Japanese police found a video of Melvin Montgomery’s murder in a safe in one of Fukushima’s estates in Tokyo. It clearly shows Lee as the murderer. They also found a host of other files showing who was being bribed around the world and for how much. It included one of their higher-ranking police officers. They were able to prove it was the same officer who called Fukushima to tell him who Corporal Taggart and Constable Secord really were, and of the impending arrests.”
“The LO told me the Japanese police are very upset,” replied Rose. “Bribery is relatively rare amongst their department. To have a situation develop that nearly cost the lives of two foreigners is extremely embarrassing for them.”
“Yes, I understand they wish to formally apologize to both Corporal Taggart and Constable Secord,” said Isaac. “I have even heard talk that the Japanese ambassador wishes to present them each with a samurai sword as a token of their appreciation.”
“That’s nice to hear, although from a psychological point of view, I’m not sure if the sight of a samurai sword would speed up their recovery.”
“Good point,” mused Isaac.
“However, given the extraordinary circumstances and extreme danger Jack and Laura both faced, it was only through sheer courage and presence of mind that they survived. Naturally, I’ll be recommending them both for Commendation as well.”
Isaac stared at Rose silently for a moment, before leaning forward and saying, “First, perhaps you could ease my mind about something.”
“Sir?”
“It is the circumstances leading up Fukushima’s murder that have me slightly confused,” said Isaac. “Fukushima was a small man, was he not?”
“I guess so,” replied Rose. “Jack was able to control him. Mind you, it takes the fight out of someone to have their eyeball popped out with a fork.”
“Yes, which adds to my theory,” said Isaac. “You are aware that Corporal Taggart used a sleeper hold on Lee earlier to make it look like he was dead?”
“Yes, sir,” sighed Rose. “And I know members have been forbidden to use such holds since an incident years ago where a man died trying to swallow a bundle of heroin while being choked. But what choice did Jack have? Surely you don’t plan to reprimand him over —”
“No, the use of the sleeper hold … on Lee … does not concern me. Can you explain to me why someone of Corporal Taggart’s stature, size, and training, with his arm wrapped around the throat of a small man who had lost his eye, was unable to control him?”
“I don’t understand what you mean,” said Rose. “He did control him up until the bodyguard smashed through the wall and stabbed him in the fracas that followed.”
“Yes, and according to the eyewitness reports,” continued Isaac, “at that time Corporal Taggart was no longer holding Fukushima from behind. He was crouched in front of him and holding him up high by the front of his kimono. One police officer even thought Fukushima may have been unconscious at the time, but opened his remaining good eye when he was stabbed.”
Rose stared silently as her brain replayed the scenario of what she now realized had happened.
“The Japanese police did not figure it out,” said Isaac, “although they should have, with the other clues they were left with.”
“Other clues, sir?”
“They found
the results of a polygraph test that Corporal Taggart took. They are extremely impressed with his ability to deceive the polygraph operator who worked for Fukushima. Particularly where he convinced the polygraph operator that he had lied to the police, hidden the body of a murder victim, and … let’s see … what were the exact words … yes, fooled the polygraph operator into believing he had ‘orchestrated or committed murder.’”
“Sounds like he owes our polygraph operator a debt of gratitude prepping him enough to save his butt,” replied Rose. “I’ll tell him he should buy Larry Killaly a drink.”
“Is that what you believe saved him?” asked Isaac.
Rose paused, wondering how to respond.
“Exactly. Glad to see you decided not to lie to me.” Isaac leaned forward, lowering his voice and said, “You know Corporal Taggart’s history. Could he have really been telling the truth?”
“Fukushima was an extremely dangerous man,” said Rose, quietly. “Statements indicate he not only threatened Jack and Laura, but their families, as well.”
“I am aware of that,” sighed Isaac. “So I have a proposition. How would it be if I keep my suspicions to myself and you forget about recommending them for Commendation?”
A tiny smile crossed Rose’s lips and she said, “Agreed. Knowing Jack and Laura, they aren’t the type who would care.”
“Good, I would have great difficulty in presenting it to him and pretending to be a fool.”
As Rose stood to leave she said, “Sir, the Japanese police said Fukushima had an army of over fifteen thousand strong scattered around the globe. If you were in the same circumstances as Jack and you heard the threats Fukushima made regarding your family, what would you have done to save yourself or your loved ones?”
“I certainly wouldn’t do what you are suggesting,” replied Isaac.
“Sir?”
“Forget about telling Corporal Taggart to buy our polygraph operator a drink. Larry Killaly doesn’t drink.”
Rose grinned all the way back to her office.
Jack caught the shimmering reflection of the candlelight in Natasha’s eyes as she glanced up and smiled at him from where she sat at their dining-room table. She savoured the last mouthful of peach flambé that Jack had made for dessert, then reached over and held his hand.
