by Alex Ko
Josh laced his fingers together and braced his arms. Jessica stepped into his hand and he took her weight, his arm muscles straining, boosting her up until she was eye-level with the window.
“It’s on a latch,” she said. “I can just...” Josh heard a couple of small scraping noises, and then a click and a soft creaking. “Got it. The drop’s about two metres.” She leaned forward and Josh felt her weight lift off his hands. Then she slipped through the window and was gone. He heard something hitting a hard floor, and a small oof. “I’m in,” Jessica whispered. “Can you reach, Josh?”
He looked around. The window was too high for him to grab from a standing position. He inspected the bushes, but didn’t think they’d hold his weight. It was going to have to be a running jump.
“Yep,” he said, backing up. “I’ll be with you in a second.” He walked as far back as he dared and then leaped into a sprint. His feet slammed into the ground once, twice, three times, and he sprang into the air, grabbing onto the window ledge. His momentum made him swing wildly out to one side, and his fingers almost slid off the ledge as his wrists twisted under the strain. Then he swung back again and hung there, gripping on tight.
Right. Now to pull myself up.
With a grunt of effort he managed to scramble up to the window and dive through head first. The world turned upside down as he somersaulted through and landed on his feet in the corridor below.
When the corridor had stopped spinning, he saw that they were on a landing, between the front door and a dim, narrow flight of stairs leading downwards. He could hear the faint sounds of chattering and clinking glasses from below.
“Nana, what’s going on with the two men?” he whispered.
“They’re still searching the main gambling room.”
Josh breathed a little easier. “We’re on our way.”
As they descended lower and lower, the air grew thick and choking. Josh could smell cigar smoke, like the kind their English grandfather sometimes smelled of, but much more pungent and oddly spiced. The stairs were dark and claustrophobic, only just wide enough for the two of them to walk side by side. They turned a corner sharply and continued down, round and round until Josh realized he’d no idea which way they were facing.
He tried to fix the picture from the CCTV monitor in his mind. When they found the gambling room, the corridor that led to the back room would be somewhere to their right. If there was trouble, they’d need to get over there quick...
“Nana, have we found out anything useful?” Jessica asked.
“Oh indeed,” came Nana’s voice through their ear-buds. “Mimasu has been enhancing Mimi-san’s recordings. Minister Kobayashi sounds very upset. He says he has had enough. He seems to be being blackmailed – something about photographs, and some men who Kobayashi didn’t know were Yakuza. Then Kobayashi says the violence is too much, he doesn’t want to hurt Shini.”
Josh and Jessica looked at each other, their eyebrows raised.
“Then Kobayashi’s innocent...sort of?” Jessica shrugged. “But he still arranged for those things to happen to him, didn’t he?”
“The question is, who’s controlling him?” Josh wondered.
“We can’t tell yet,” said Nana. “But it looks like the Yakuza are heavily involved.”
Josh swallowed hard.
They turned another corner, and found themselves standing in a large doorway decorated with kanji and Chinese lettering. Through it they could see the gambling room. It was even bigger than it had looked on CCTV. Josh could make out the first two rows of mah-jong tables, but the rest were lost in the crowd. He and Jessica pressed themselves against the wall.
“What now?” Jessica whispered.
“Get to that back corridor before the two guys figure out where Granny is. Then take them out if we need to, before they can raise the alarm,” Josh said, in the most confident voice he could muster. “If we keep moving we can get through the crowd without getting caught...I hope.”
“Right...” Jessica breathed.
They slipped into the hot, crowded room. One gambler gave them a slightly odd look, but Josh moved fast, ducking under someone’s arm and slipping between two tables. He stopped by a bank of slot machines, peering around the room, looking for the two men in black shirts. The air was thick with the chatter of Mandarin conversation, punctuated by the clicking of mah-jong tiles and the flutter of playing cards. He thought he saw a large black-shirted shoulder moving through the crowd.
“Let’s keep moving,” he whispered to Jessica. They dodged around the slot machines. Josh tried to keep his head down and look out for the best way round to the back corridor.
Jessica grabbed his arm and pulled him to the floor. They rolled under a table, just in time to see the kimono of the young waitress shuffle past.
“If the staff spot us, we’re out of here,” Jessica hissed. “We have to avoid them, too!”
Josh nodded. They crawled out from under the table. Josh nudged Jessica’s shoulder and pointed through the forest of gamblers’ legs. He could see the entrance to the corridor, only a few metres away.
“Hurry.” Mr. Yamamoto’s voice was suddenly in his ear. “The men are heading right for you.”
Josh took a deep breath, grabbed Jessica’s hand, and they both ran, doubled over, towards the corridor. Josh thought they would be spotted as soon as they came out of the crowd, but no outcry followed them as they dodged past the last table and made a run for it, turning the corner into the dim corridor and stopping, their backs pressed to the wall, out of sight of the gamblers.
“Did we make it?” Josh gasped.
“Think so!” Jessica edged away from the gambling room, her shoulders sagging with relief. Josh looked down the corridor and saw Granny, standing by the door with her ear to the wall. She gave him a hand signal, somewhere between I’m fine and Don’t come any closer. He nodded and waved back.
“Let’s hope the men didn’t see us,” Jessica whispered. “We can lie in wait here, and—”
“Shimatta!” Granny snapped. Josh looked up, his blood chilling in his veins as he watched his granny crane to listen harder, her eyes narrowing. “I know that voice!” she hissed. “It’s Yoshida!”
Josh gaped. Mr. Yoshida, the Yakuza boss? Not him again...
Suddenly the expression on Granny’s face changed and she pointed.
“Josh!” she called. “Behind you!”
Josh turned just in time to see a fist powering through the air towards him.
Josh ducked, but the fist struck a glancing blow to the top of his head. He felt a burst of pain, and his vision swam. He backed away, the corridor spinning around him.
The scene came back into focus and he saw Jessica hit their attacker square in the chest with a spinning kick. But the second man was just behind. Josh barrelled forward into him, striking with his shoulder and pushing the man back.
There was a bang, and Josh turned to see the door to the back room wide open. An elderly Japanese man with a ponytail stood there, his thin grey brows drawing together in surprise as he stared at Granny. His glance flickered over her shoulder, taking in Josh, Jessica, and their attackers.
“Why, Mimi,” he said. “Always a pleasure. And your charming little—”
Granny didn’t wait for him to finish. She dropped to the ground, rolled, came up behind him and planted a solid kick to the middle of his back. He stumbled forward, but turned the fall into a somersault and was on his feet again at once, twisting round to face her, his hands raised.
“Why don’t you let me take my grandchildren outside,” Granny said. “Then we can talk, just the two of us.”
“Ah, Mimi. I have no interest in making deals, even with you. Take them!” Yoshida snapped, nodding at the men in black. One of the thugs grabbed Josh’s arm and shoved him towards the wall. Josh jumped up at the last minute and planted his feet on the brickwork, pushing back with all his might. They toppled backwards and hit the ground together, rolling and tumbling along the
corridor until Josh came to a rest with the man on top of him. Now Josh was on his back, and the man raised a fist to drive it into Josh’s face...and then hesitated. Josh looked up. They’d rolled all the way into the main gambling room. Silence had fallen. Players, spectators and gamblers turned. A waiter gasped and dropped a tray of glasses, shattering the silence.
Suddenly, everyone seemed to be moving. Waiters and waitresses screamed and ran for the exit. The sharp-suited young Yakuza with the slicked-back hair stood and squared their shoulders. Elderly gamblers creaked and hobbled from their chairs. Tables toppled and mah-jong tiles scattered across the floor.
With a roar of annoyance, the man slammed his fist down into Josh’s face – or at least, the patch of bare concrete where it had just been.
“Gaaaaaaahhh!” he screamed, clutching his hand.
Josh couldn’t help but grin at the yell of pain as he ducked away under the man’s arm, but he stopped smiling when he nearly caught Jessica’s foot in his face. She was vaulting over him into the gambling room to escape a vicious roundhouse kick from the other man in black. They both scrambled to their feet. Josh scanned the room. Two big men in black. Three slick Yakuza – was that the glint of a flick knife he saw in one of their hands? And there was a commotion from the stairs as the two Chinese bouncers burst into the room, flexing their muscles.
Seven against two. I’ve seen better odds...
Granny and Yoshida spun into the room like acrobats, ducking and parrying each other’s blows so smoothly they looked as if they were performing a complex dance routine.
Eight against three. Not much better... Granny hit one of the men in black in the back of the neck, and he crumpled at once. Except one of our three is Granny! That’s seven to three...
“Fight!” Granny commanded, between spinning kicks. “We must get out of here! Head for the exit. I will follow.”
The twins ran for the door. But the Chinese brutes blocked their way. One of them threw a punch at Josh, missing by millimetres. He dropped to the floor and crawled under the table, leaving the bouncer grabbing at thin air. There was a crash as the table was overturned, but he kept crawling, trying to pick his spot to come back up. He saw Jessica’s feet dancing between the chairs, trying to kick them out of her way – and then he saw the shiny leather shoes and trousers of a Yakuza approaching her. Had she seen him?
Josh leaped, rising from under the tables like a shark erupting from the sea. The Yakuza paused, the gleaming silver blade raised in one hand and ready to strike towards Jessica. Josh aimed a hard chop to the man’s wrist and the knife spun away.
The Yakuza let out a scream of frustration. “You little rat!”
He tried to headbutt Josh, but Josh ducked and got him on the ankle with a low kick. The Yakuza’s legs buckled and he went down.
“Nana, it’s time,” Josh heard Granny say, her voice coming clear over his earphones, though she was on the other side of the room in the middle of a whirling tempest of spinning kicks.
“Hai, I’m putting in the call,” said Nana’s voice.
Josh didn’t have time to ask what the call was. The other two Yakuza were upon him. He tried to back away but a fallen chair caught his legs and tripped him up. He scrambled to his feet again just in time to see Jessica thrown hard against a slot machine, making it rattle and whir.
“Obaasan?” Josh called. He looked around for Granny. She was still fighting Yoshida, her style efficient and calm. Between flying roundhouse kicks, low blocks and backflips, she was making her way over to the door. She threw a fierce side kick and knocked one of the bouncers into the wall, head first.
“Use your surroundings, Josh!” Granny shouted over the thug’s yell of pain. “Agility, speed – go!”
Jessica jumped up on top of the slot machine. Josh looked back at the upset tables, understanding flooding through him.
Those aren’t obstacles – they’re weapons! He climbed up onto the nearest one. It wobbled under him. Woah... Okay, I can use that too. He threw his weight forward and used the unstable tabletop like a springboard, leaping across the room towards Jessica.
One of the bouncers grabbed for Josh’s ankles as he landed on another table, but he jumped again and the brute’s hands closed on thin air. Josh brought his feet down hard on his attacker’s shoulders. The bouncer moaned, crumpled and hit the ground in a shower of teacups and mah-jong tiles.
“Let’s get out of here,” yelled Jessica. She ran along the tops of the slot machines and grabbed hold of a light fitting, swinging herself across the scattered tables like Tarzan till she got to the empty doorway.
Josh scanned the room, planning his route over the tabletops to the doorway. He jumped, dancing his way across the rickety tables that folded underneath him. He flipped onto his hands on the soft felt of a card table and pushed off again, landing on his feet on a mah-jong board near the exit.
“C’mon, Josh!” Jessica called. But Josh didn’t get down. He turned and waited for just a few more seconds, until the Yakuza were closer...
Just a little closer...
Then he drew his right foot back and swung it like he was taking a penalty kick in extra time, sending the contents of the table flying into the faces of the Yakuza – teacups, a teapot and the boiling tea inside it, and a small rainstorm of hard, ceramic tiles. The young Yakuza screamed and fell back, covering their faces.
“Woo! What a move!” Jessica yelled. “Come on, let’s— Urk!” Josh spun round, nearly losing his footing and falling. More guys had appeared in the doorway – four Yakuza in shiny suits and a whole bunch of hulking goons. One of them had grabbed Jessica, and had his arm around her throat; she was clawing for air, her face going red. Josh froze. The bad guys spread out through the room, cutting off all possible escape routes.
“Now,” said the brute with his arm over Jessica’s neck. “We don’t want any—”
Suddenly, the man’s arm dropped from her throat and he fell to his knees, twitching. Josh just had time to see the sparking wires from a taser gun retracting from the man’s back before there was a flash, a huge bang, and thick yellow smoke flooded into the room. Within seconds, Josh could barely see a thing.
What’s going on? he thought desperately.
A voice boomed into the room, in deafeningly loud Japanese. Josh couldn’t fully understand what the voice said, but it was something like, “Police! Do not attempt to resist. We have all exits covered.”
Josh heard the Yakuza coughing and panicking. He held his breath and clapped his sleeve over his mouth, trying to breathe slowly.
Granny seized his hand and pulled him down from the table. He saw the silhouette of Jessica standing beside her.
“Quick and quiet,” Granny whispered.
They stepped over the still-twitching thug in the doorway, and climbed the stairs to street level.
What just happened?” Josh gasped.
“Yoshida called for reinforcements,” said Granny sternly, “and so did we. Now, come on, I want you two out of here.”
Police officers passed them on the stairs, running down to the gambling room with gas masks and handcuffs. None of them gave the old lady and her two grandchildren a second glance until they reached the very top. A man in a particularly shiny uniform nodded to Granny as they reached the doors.
“Are you all right, obaa-sama?”
“Hai,” Granny said. “Good work, officer.” The policeman opened the door and bowed politely to Granny and the twins. Josh bowed back, and then they stepped out into the neon glare of Shinjuku.
“This operation was a success,” said Sachiko, pouring tea for Josh and Jessica back in Team O’s headquarters, “even if not a clear victory. We learned everything we went in to find out, and a little more besides.”
Josh rotated his shoulders, which were aching and stiff, and glanced at the livid bruise on Jessica’s neck.
“Yoshida saw me, and he saw the children.” Granny frowned into her teacup. “So he knows that we are on to him. And he an
d the Minister escaped. There must have been a secret exit in case of police raids.”
“On a positive note,” Mr. Yamamoto said, with a cheery smile and a wink at Josh, “the Omajinai will be shut down – no more filthy gambling Yakuza on that block, eh, Mimi-san?”
“Now, Yamamoto-san, it’s not nice to tease your team leader,” Sachiko said, just as if she was telling off a naughty little boy.
“Nana-san, any change in Kobayashi’s status?” Granny asked, with a firmly-changing-the-subject tilt of her head towards the control banks.
“No change,” Nana said. “I haven’t picked him up on any airport cameras, but if I were him, I would have fled the country by now. Leave Yoshida to do his own dirty work.”
“I agree,” said Granny. She walked up behind Nana’s seat and stared at the still photographs of Yoshida, Kobayashi and Shini on the large screens. “Kobayashi was a smart choice for blackmail. The Minister for Culture won’t be out of place at this kind of event and he has no criminal history. We will make sure the regular police track him down, but I think Yoshida will have cut him loose. I know how he thinks – Kobayashi was just a pawn, and one that’s outlived its usefulness. Our task now is to stop one of the most dangerous criminals in the country from committing severe assault, maybe murder, to get Shini to throw the game on Saturday.”
“And here’s why,” said Nana, tapping a few buttons. The screen went blank, then filled with lines of code on a white background. Nana highlighted part of it. “There. See the entry for Thursday, 11.43 a.m.? Just this morning, someone named Hana Nishimura placed a bet on England to win the football game. A large bet.”
“Who’s Hana Nishimura?” Jessica asked.
“Probably an alias, a fake bank account,” said Granny. “Or maybe some hapless fool Yoshida has tricked into being his go-between.” Granny raised her eyebrows. “When I was listening in at the gambling den, I heard Kobayashi say something about moving a large amount of...I didn’t get the last part.”
“Also, this is only one bookmaker,” Mimasu said, slipping on a pair of reading spectacles and leaning in to scan the screen. “If I were Yoshida, I would have placed bets with everyone going. With the odds the way they are, if Shini lets England win, he will make back five hundred times what he has put in. And he has put a lot in.” Josh stared at the figure on screen. He couldn’t convert yen to pounds in his head, but he knew it was a very, very big number.
