Pacific Burn

by Barry Lancet

  I had vowed to keep a studied distance between my daughter and the Steam Walker, regardless of the consequences. But with the trained assassin’s third escape, time was up. This could go on for months without a resolution. I needed to pass the torch to Brodie Security and get back home. Let them carry on the search. I’d take two operatives with me to San Francisco for protection. But only two. Not the six rotating guards I had in Tokyo. Which meant I’d have to curtail a lot of our normal activities.

  Caution above all.

  Especially where Jenny was concerned.

  We had far too much proof that the Steam Walker could operate effectively overseas.

  * * *

  Rie was waiting for me in my room.

  With our romance still a matter of discretion, I said goodbye to my watchers in the hallway. The room lights were on and I heard the loud splash of running bathwater. Rie had worked the swing shift and had probably only just arrived.

  “I’m back,” I said. “It was a complete bust.”

  “Brodie!”

  My ears perked up. Her inflection was odd. Maybe because of the acoustics in the cavernous, marble-laden bathroom.

  “Yeah, it’s me,” I said.

  No response.

  My spine tingled. My body tensed. Adrenaline kicked in.

  My mind whirled. I juggled the pieces. Rie had called my name with a measure of excitement a new flame always finds flattering. But the last syllable had been clipped, the inflexion distorted. As if she’d spoken into her shoulder. Or had been distracted as she answered.

  My next impression a half second later told me there was more.

  Excitement was accurate, but there had been an unidentifiable edge to her voice. Three seconds in I knew it was the wrong kind of edge. Not one of exhilaration or endearment, but of agitation.

  Swiftly, I backtracked to the door, dashed across the hall, and tapped on my shadows’ door.

  “Get in here, guys. Now. We might have a problem.”

  I was less than a hundred percent certain trouble had arrived, but better embarrassed now than regretful later.

  I didn’t wait for their response. Every second mattered. I left my door ajar, then in two bounds was standing alongside the bathroom door. Not directly in front. Alongside. Seven seconds had elapsed. Two each way to cross the hallway and return.

  I tapped lightly on the door. “Everything okay in there?”

  A half dozen innocent reasons could explain the rising pitch of Rie’s one-word greeting. As she spoke, she could have slipped slightly on the marble floor. Or been moving around the room, in the middle of a chore. Or maybe she’d tested the bathwater and found it too hot. All three scenarios and more would account for the distortion.

  But I still had no answer from her.

  Nine seconds.

  The water continued to slosh into the tub.

  “Rie?”

  The bathroom was luxurious and large and almost a labor to navigate. Television, phone, two sinks set in a long counter, a full-length lounge chair, and an oversized Japanese bath with jets and multicolored mood lights. Maybe she’d called my name while moving across the room to a distant corner.

  Still no answer.

  There could also be a half dozen less-than-innocent reasons.

  Eleven seconds.

  “Rie?”

  I hesitated to enter in case it was a trap. I glanced over my shoulder at the front door. My guards hadn’t come when called. What could they be doing? I called louder.

  I scanned the room. Nothing was out of place. Rie’s purse was on the table. Her jacket hung in the closet. I called one last time.

  “Rie?”

  Thirteen seconds.

  “Come in.”

  I froze. Another terse answer. Which was not like her at all. The invitation to enter had been uttered quickly. And softly. In a decidedly feminine voice within the range of Rie’s register.

  Fifteen seconds.

  I turned the doorknob. It wasn’t locked. She always locked the door. But if she had planned to invite me in, she would leave it open.

  Seventeen seconds.

  The hair on the back of my neck bristled. This didn’t feel right. Didn’t sound right. Rie was usually light and playful. There was no reason to be stingy with her words.

  Nineteen seconds.

  In either case I had no choice but to enter. I cast a last glance toward the hall. My backup was otherwise occupied. Not encouraging.

  I could hear the water cascading loudly into the tub. I opened the door and stepped into the bathroom.

  The lights were bright.

  The marble floors sparkled.

  With my second step, I could see all. And was the recipient of a second greeting.

  “Hello, Jim Brodie.”

  CHAPTER 78

  ADRENALINE fired my veins. Every nerve of my body buzzed. I shifted automatically into a fighting stance. I was primed, but the scene before me trumped any play I might have made.

  As always the Steam Walker was a step ahead.

  The living legend faced me across two yards of gleaming marble. She’d slipped into men’s attire yet again. No Tyrolean hat this time but a short-haired wig and makeup that accented her cheekbones and jaw and sabotaged her good looks. She was wearing one of the confrontational faces she wore before an attack. The one she wanted people to remember if they remembered anything at all. Using makeup was smart. Arriving as a man was smart. Both sexes noticed attractive women. Particularly in a nice hotel.

  Seeing the Steam Walker in my private quarters had kicked up my heartbeat a couple of levels, but what my eyes alighted on the next instant started it thundering.

  Behind the Steam Walker was Rie. Her ankles were bound. Her hands were secured at her back. She was also gagged and blindfolded and stood—precariously balanced—on a three-legged stool.

  With a noose looped around her neck.

  * * *

  The Steam Walker had made an alteration to the hotel’s first-class bathing area.

  She had installed an oversize toggle hook in the ceiling. A simple matter of drilling a hole and inserting the straight end of the hooked bolt, with its spring-loaded wings folded. Once the wing end was in place on the other side of the ceiling, the wings sprang open, the toggle was tightened, and the spreading wings formed an inverted V to accept the weight of what was hung on the hook.

  Which, in this case, was the rope around Rie’s neck.

  The rope rose straight up from behind Rie’s head, passed through the hook, then came down at an oblique angle and was secured to the plumbing under the nearest sink. On the marble countertop next to the sink was an electric drill. Alongside the tool sat the Walker’s baseball cap.

  “You’ve been busy,” I said through gritted teeth. “What do you want?”

  The Steam Walker held one end of a second rope. “First, this.”

  My eyes traced the length of the new cord. The other end was affixed to a leg of the stool on which Rie teetered.

  “I see it. So?”

  The Steam Walker leaned left and looked around me. “I am sure you understand, Jim Brodie. But before we negotiate, I need the hall door closed. Come straight back, otherwise . . .”

  She raised her end of the rope another few inches.

  I didn’t budge. I didn’t want to take my eyes off Rie. I didn’t want to leave her alone with a rope strung around her neck. I cast a backward look. Where were my watchers? How had they not responded to either of my calls?

  “Your two lackeys will not be joining us,” the Walker said.

  “Sure they will. And that will put an end to this charade. It’ll be three on one.”

  “The door, Jim Brodie. Do not test me.”

  I frowned, but didn’t move.

  The Walker shook her head sadly. “Stubborn to no good end. I have taken your men out of the game. They stepped into a roomful of gas. It is odorless and takes effect in thirty seconds. They will sleep for three hours and live to work another day.
Just not tonight. One last time, the door, Jim Brodie.”

  I stepped away, crossed the room, and shut the door, the Walker’s eyes crawling over my back.

  “Now return to us, please,” she called. “Hands loose and open. Pick up nothing.”

  “Let her go,” I said, stalking back into the bathroom.

  “A nice sentiment. Men should protect their women. The world should protect them.”

  Coming from someone with her history of childhood abuse, it was a potent comment.

  “I couldn’t agree more. And a rule I think you would follow.”

  “Rie Hoshino will not be hurt if you do exactly as I say.”

  Woman to woman that might be true.

  “So let her go. This is between us.”

  “Do as I say and I won’t hurt her.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “You only need to let me kill you.”

  CHAPTER 79

  THAT’S not going to happen.”

  “Oh, but it is, Jim Brodie. And I will tell you why.”

  Raising her rope hand, she took up the slack.

  My heart clenched.

  She said, “I can see you understand.”

  I didn’t reply.

  The Steam Walker chuckled. “I will interpret your silence as a yes. But let me lay out the timetable so your comprehension is complete.”

  She paused for a comment.

  I stayed silent.

  “Very well,” she said. “As soon as I pull this cord, Rie Hoshino’s body will drop and she will begin to choke. The fall is not enough to snap her neck, but she will be unconscious in ten to twenty seconds. It could take three to five minutes for her to fully suffocate, but with each passing second the lack of oxygen will be devastating. Brain cells will start to die. She will be a vegetable long before strangulation is complete, and even should you manage to get past me in, say, a minute or two, which we both know is unlikely, a revived Rie Hoshino will not be the Rie Hoshino you know and love. Her mental faculties will be partially or fully impaired. Do you have the picture?”

  I was quiet.

  “I need an answer this time, Jim Brodie.”

  “I have the picture.”

  “Do you see why you will do exactly as I ask?”

  “Yes.”

  “And why you will let me kill you?”

  “You can try.”

  “If I start, I will finish. There is one possible way out for you.”

  “And what might that be?”

  “I am going to beat you to within an inch of your life so you will never come after me again. Never. Neither you nor any of your people. At the point where you are near the end, I shall make a final decision on whether you live or die.”

  “And how will you do that?”

  “It will depend on your cooperation and attitude. I will ask you some questions about your future pursuits. If your answers are to my liking, you might live.”

  The move was shrewd. Dangle a glimmer of hope and the victim will walk straight toward his own death, with an eye peeled toward salvation. I did not believe her for an instant.

  I said, “How can I be sure you will let Rie go in case I don’t make it?”

  “Two reasons. First, because I am a professional and give you my word. Second, because I took great care to make sure your Rie Hoshino did not see my face. You may confirm this for yourself, if you wish.”

  “Rie, is that true?”

  She could not see or talk but she could hear. She nodded, then tried to speak. Nothing but a string of muffled sounds emerged. But her tone was enough to clue me in to the Steam Walker’s earlier gambit. Rie had called out the first time. Most likely, she’d already been gagged. The Walker had probably loosened the binding long enough for her captive to utter my name. One word. Rie had tried to warn me. That explained the rising inflection, clipped short as the Walker jammed the gag back home. In round two, the Steam Walker had simply imitated Rie’s voice, keeping her words low and short to be safe.

  The Walker ignored Rie’s extracurricular effort. “Satisfied?”

  The Steam Walker would be merciless with me but she held nothing against Rie. Rie could survive the encounter precisely because she would not witness what was to come next.

  “Yes.”

  “Shall we begin?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then kneel for me, Jim Brodie.”

  And I did.

  CHAPTER 80

  THE Steam Walker struck without warning.

  She glanced casually over at Rie, and when I followed her gaze, she swung into action with a swift kick to my stomach. Caught off-guard, I doubled over. A jolt of pain rippled through my abdominal muscles but I sucked up the burn.

  Slowly, I straightened.

  In defiance.

  Until I was once more kneeling fully upright. I locked eyes with my assailant. Behind her, Rie was still, her head cocked to catch the sounds of the scuffle, none of which would be new to her.

  The Walker watched me with mild interest. “You’re stronger than I imagined.”

  I didn’t give her the satisfaction of an answer. She would pounce the moment the first word left my lips. Instead, I drew in my abdominals and tightened my muscles all the way around, digging in for the punishment to come. I lowered my eyes to the center of her body mass, giving me an even-handed view of all her limbs. I would know the instant one of them shifted. Or stiffened in preparation for the next assault. Which would, in turn, allow me a fraction of a second to brace myself.

  The Walker continued to examine me. “You’re a clever man, Jim Brodie,” and as the last syllable left her lips she unleashed a second attack.

  The same kick. To the same place. The exact same place.

  I doubled over again. My head dipped. A white light flashed behind my eyes. I clamped them shut as my already injured abdominals throbbed. I waited for the torment to fade. Then I opened my eyes, raised my head, and straightened my back.

  I returned to my original position.

  I said nothing.

  The Steam Walker smiled. “Very admirable. But useless.”

  Her leg whipped out, once more targeting the same location. She was intent on reaping the brutal toll repetitive blows could generate. But it was also third-time dumb. Which surprised me. I wasted no time in taking advantage of her blunder.

  Sucking in my stomach, I absorbed the bone-jarring kick, distress rocking every nerve in my body. I collapsed forward and locked onto her outstretched leg before she could retract it. When she pulled away, I rode the withdrawal and hauled myself up.

  I was back on my feet, with both hands gripping her leg. I raised the captured limb to waist height.

  She hopped back to account for the movement. “You should not have done that, Jim Brodie.” She pulled the rope taut.

  I pretended to ignore the gesture.

  “Down, please,” she said.

  I remained on my feet. I held on to the leg.

  It was as if I had not inconvenienced her in the least. With impressive control, the Steam Walker took another hop. Sideways this time. In a precisely measured length. The stool skittered sideways with her. A muffled exclamation escaped Rie’s lips as she scrambled to adjust her balance.

  Not third-time dumb. The Walker was merely confident in wielding her advantage.

  Without another word, I released the leg and dropped back down to my knees.

  * * *

  An uneasy silence hung in the air.

  I sought a way to overcome the Steam Walker’s trap. She stared down at me with the same composure I’d witnessed in our previous encounters. A slight haughtiness had crept into the expression. Its message: her next move would be vicious and vindictive.

  I wasn’t wrong.

  My opponent lashed out with a kick to the side of my head. Reflexively, my arm rose up in defense but her foot plowed right into it and they both smashed into my temple. I sprawled across the floor. The Steam Walker had held nothing back. The full power of
her strike released bolts of white light behind my eyes.

  “Back to your position, Jim Brodie.”

  Behind closed eyes flashes of light exploded, each linked to a stabbing pain coursing through my system. I was dizzy and nauseated.

  “Return, Jim Brodie, or else. I will not make my request a third time.”

  Rie picked up every sound. When the last kick had sent me reeling over the marble, a groan had escaped my lips of its own volition. Rie responded with a long, incoherent protest. It went unanswered.

  I dragged myself back to my original location. My mind worked furiously. How could I take down the Walker without jeopardizing Rie’s already precarious position? I racked my brain but found no way around what appeared to be a perfectly calculated setup. Systematically, the Walker was chipping away at my stamina, my core. I couldn’t hold out forever.

  The imperious look of a conqueror infused the Steam Walker’s features. “Are we a little less full of ourself now, Jim Brodie?”

  “I’m not sure that was ever the case,” I said, which proved to be the wrong answer.

  Her wrath unfurled itself in a cascade of blows. Stinging jabs. Hammer punches. Snap kicks. Then a knee to my face, which I avoided, but not fully, taking the brunt of the thrust on my ear.

  The barrage was remorseless and kept me in a continual state of recoil. I covered myself as best I could, but without the ability to counterattack, there was little I could do. The Walker connected with a crushing kick to the ribs I hadn’t seen coming, and I felt a rib crack. I grunted, smothering the hurt as best as I could.

  The pounding continued. Ten, twenty, thirty strikes. Waves of pain rippled through my body, lapping into every corner. I blocked what I could but many got through. Close-fisted cracks and blistering kicks. An endless assault. From my paternal side, I’d inherited a high pain threshold, but the Steam Walker was making substantial inroads toward dismantling it.

  Eventually I toppled over. The pummeling continued, so I took the only available choice. I curled up in a protective fetal position, my knees drawn in, my arms slung over my head.