Phantom Pearl

by Monica McCabe

  All sorts of wrong lived in that confession. But there wasn’t time to point it out. Not until Riki was safe. He tapped the comm in his ear. “Listen up, everyone. A high-ranking Yakuza general is imminent. This might get ugly. Stay down and stay alert.”

  “Roger that,” the professor acknowledged, followed by Layla and the defense team.

  Their odds were fading fast. “We are walking into a minefield.” Dallas turned in the seat to stare at the man Riki had trusted. “What else do we need to know?”

  The older man seemed to withdraw into himself, shutting out reality. “You’ve no idea what it all means. All the years, the struggle and sacrifice. And it comes down to this. Shimshi wants to steal the Pearl, but it belongs to me. I’m the one who found it.”

  “Wake up, Menita. I’ve been investigating you for over two years and I know you are bound to Koyo. You have deceived Riki for your own gain, risked her life for your ticket to freedom.” Dallas forced himself to pause, to take a deep breath and fight for control of an overwhelming anger. “Now you think you can hand over the mother-lode and walk away a free man. But Riki won’t. She’s in the crosshairs. Will it matter to you when she pays the price?”

  The blunt talk hit Menita hard. “Do not presume to judge me,” he snapped. “And yes, it matters. It’s why I’ve relentlessly trained her all these years. How do you know of Koyo? Did Reika tell you?”

  “No. Craig Lawson shared what he knew before he died. But Homeland Security has an extensive file on you, including your time spent working for the Consortium. Especially your time in Luzon.”

  The implications of that couldn’t be clearer. Menita glanced back at the Pearl, brushed his fingertips over the case. “Is Reika aware?”

  “Mostly,” Dallas replied. “She knows you betrayed her father. And yet she wouldn’t turn her back on you. Too bad I can’t say the same of you.”

  Menita fell silent, and Dallas snatched up the binoculars to scan the area again. Twenty minutes until dawn. Twenty minutes until they had to walk into the dragon’s lair. He tried to find a calm, controlled space, but fear for Riki slashed at his nerves. He needed her out of there, away from this nightmare. He needed to get a grip, but something nagged at him.

  “The agency dossier on Sakura is huge. He’s well known for a lack of patience, even less for leniency. Yet he seems to be showing both toward Riki. Why is that? What does he expect to gain?”

  A sigh that sounded like resignation escaped Menita. “Her.”

  Dallas couldn’t have heard him right. “What?”

  “Sakura likes manipulating people, and he’s impressed with Reika’s skill. I’m afraid he sees her as a unique weapon and wants her to join him.”

  “There’s not a chance in hell,” Dallas said with contempt.

  Menita laid his palms flat on the Pearl’s case and stared with stoic resignation out the windshield. “You and I know that, but he doesn’t. I hoped that insinuating the possibility would buy us more time to find the artifact.”

  “What in the name of God is wrong with you?” Dallas clutched the steering wheel to prevent him from going for the old man’s throat. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Sakura knew Cho had Riki, and he’d come to collect both her and Phantom Pearl. This just went from real ugly to guaranteed death and violence.

  He let loose a string of swear words that would make a soldier blush and followed it up with, “I’m going to kill you, Menita. Right after you make this delivery and Riki is safe, you are a dead man.”

  “It’s no less than I deserve.”

  Layla broke into the comm. “Several people are leaving the ship. All are on foot. Heads up, Taji. I believe they’re headed your way.”

  Shimshi leadership marching to stake their claim. The only one missing was Sakura. No sign of him yet, but his appearance was an absolute certainty. Everything in one convenient, complicated place. Koyo, Phantom Pearl, and the girl. No criminal mastermind worth his salt would pass on a rare opportunity like this.

  “Target in sight,” Taji added to the group conversation. “There’s four of them.”

  Dallas was beginning to wish he’d come with an armed battalion because Shimshi had the numbers on their side, and they were a highly trained fighting force. He had confidence in his team, their combined experience could handle the threat, at the very least create enough damage to send them scrambling. But inside it would be him, a weakened Riki, and Menita against the unknown. Odds of winning for them all were slim. Their only chance would be stealth and ingenuity.

  But win or lose, Riki was in there. Alone.

  Not for much longer. He was going in.

  “Professor,” Dallas said into the comm. “Get over here quick. We need to talk.”

  Chapter 35

  When she was younger, Riki had read a book about a princess who was tied to a stake and left as a sacrifice to a fierce and hungry dragon. That was exactly how she felt right this moment. Only her stake was a hard, wooden chair in the middle of a giant open warehouse, and instead of tied with rope, her arms were secured to the chair’s spine with zip ties.

  A tasty morsel being served up for an executioner. Her eyes kept straying to the windows above. She watched the sky turn from dark charcoal to ever lightening shades of purple, knowing the dragon would soon be coming.

  Was Dallas out there, too? It had sounded like he’d recovered Phantom Pearl and made contact with Kai, but the waiting and the not knowing wore on her nerves. Her emotions were on a drug-induced roller coaster. One minute she felt consumed by fury, the next on the verge of tears.

  She didn’t know what saddened her more—to realize that she couldn’t say with certainty that her mentor and friend would come through, or that she still cared that he’d have to give up the very thing he’d spent years to find. Did he deserve the freedom it would bring him?

  A slow burning rage screamed he did not.

  Over the last several hours, she’d dug deeper to find the ability to forgive. She wanted to. Karmic teachings said it was not for her to judge. But moving past his betrayal was impossible. Her father died because of it. She was no longer sure she even wanted to hear Kai’s explanation. There’s nothing he could say that would justify the act. The only conclusion she’d made, was come hell or high water, she’d get the truth from him.

  Pale gray light began to filter in from the high windows, enough that she could make out more of the surroundings. The warehouse wasn’t as empty as she first thought. Ten-foot high stacks of long wooden crates lined one exterior wall. At the far end of the room, a half-dozen aisles of round cylindrical tubes looked like a wine cellar. Her end of the building lay more open. She sat in the middle of a delivery dock, easily accommodating three or more oversized or specialty vehicles. An office of sorts sat next to the bay doors, a pedestrian door to the side of that.

  She hadn’t seen Cho for the last fifteen minutes, but Phone Guy’s glaring malevolence made sure she didn’t miss any disturbing levels of animosity. He stood leaning against a metal support post, alternating between utter boredom and looking like he wanted to mangle her bones. The feeling was mutual. She was beyond tired of being trussed up. Either the drug had finally begun to dissipate or anger was pushing it out, because she could feel parts of herself resurfacing.

  The pedestrian door opened, and Cho crossed to where she sat. “It’s your lucky day,” he said to her. “Junto rarely leaves Osaka, but he’s made an exception for Phantom Pearl.”

  “Never heard of him,” she replied. “Is he somebody important?”

  “Shimshi’s Grand Leader.” Cho had disdain down to an art form.

  That’s okay, because she was a master at sarcasm. “Geez. Had I known, I would’ve dressed a little nicer.”

  Cho grabbed her chin in his fingers and lifted, squeezing a little too hard. “Junto commands respect. I advise you to keep that attitude in check. He won’t be near as fri
endly as me.”

  “Bite me,” she managed through clenched teeth. Attitude was always the first thing to recover after being hit with enough sedative to knock-out a T-Rex.

  He leaned in and whispered, “Is that an invitation?”

  She said nothing, merely glared her contempt.

  He laughed softly and released her, but didn’t move away. “Menita is late.” He stared down at her in speculation, as though recalculating her worth.

  “Don’t look to me for assurance,” she said. “I never thought he’d show up to begin with.” She’d hoped he would, but when it came down to what meant more to him—her or Pearl—Riki was no longer sure she’d win.

  Cho straightened, but not before she saw the unease he tried to mask. She smiled. It was a perverse satisfaction since a no-show wouldn’t end well for her, but she enjoyed the moment anyhow. “Uh oh,” she taunted. “What are you going to tell the big bad Junto when no one shows up?”

  He deliberately caressed a lock of her hair, then calmly twisted the strands around his fingers until he had a handful. She knew it was coming, still, it hurt like hell when he viciously yanked her head back. He leaned in close enough to feel his breath on her face. It stank of cigarettes and mint gum.

  “You will be a tolerable consolation prize,” he said. He dipped toward her mouth and she twisted her head despite the pain. He pulled only slightly away and looked her in the eye, anticipation glittering in his. “Maybe when he’s tired of you, I’ll take my turn.”

  If he thought to intimidate her, she’d prove him wrong. “That’s what happens when you’re second best. Always have to settle for leftovers.”

  The hand gripping her hair pulled tighter, and she fought not to wince. “When I am done with you, death will be a welcome release.”

  She closed her eyes and disassociated. She pictured the beach in Baja, the seagulls cry as they dipped and swayed in the air currents. Until his cell phone dinged and brought her crashing back to the dark and depressing warehouse. At least he released his grip on her hair to read the message.

  Her eyes watered from the sting, and she blinked several times to clear her vision. It took several deep breaths before she could find her composure again, but she managed just as the door opened and a crowd entered.

  One man led the way forward, the others surrounding him like bodyguards. It could only be the infamous Junto, Lord of the Yakuza Underworld.

  “You have acquired the artifact?” Junto asked Cho when he reached them.

  “Kai Menita will be delivering it shortly,” he promised.

  The leader of Shimshi didn’t look near as alarming as Riki expected. Then again, what does evil look like? Certainly not an eighty-year-old man who barely hit five-foot-six and wore Tommy Bahama loafers. She’d be unimpressed if not for the pistol holstered at his waist and the fancy walking cane she assumed masked a hidden sword.

  He glanced at Riki and lifted a brow in disdain. “Who do we have here?”

  She suspected he already knew.

  “Meet Reika Maddox,” Cho said. “Menita’s protégé.”

  Not anymore she wasn’t.

  Junto moved to stand directly in front of her and rudely stared. “She’s certainly a little thing to have the reputation that she does.”

  He spoke like she wasn’t sitting right there, hearing every word. Still, she kept quiet, preferring to listen and learn.

  “She’s a tiger in sheep’s clothing.” Cho glared his hatred at her.

  She didn’t take the bait, just blinked a few more times to help clear the wetness from her lashes.

  “Cut her bonds.”

  Ken Cho turned to his commander-in-chief in alarm. “I’d advise against that.”

  “Noted.” He calmly rested both hands on the cane in front of him. “Now cut her bonds.”

  Cho looked like he wanted to argue, but the struggle didn’t last long. He knew better than to challenge the older man. With an adverse nod to Phone Guy, the henchman produced a pair of snippers and severed the zip ties.

  Riki leaned forward and began to rub life back into her bare arms. “Thank you,” she said to Junto. His motives for cutting her loose concerned her, but right now it was an advantage and she’d take it.

  Except, the way he intently studied her made her nervous. Like he evaluated her usefulness, determining her fate on circumstantial evidence.

  “You have been on my radar for some time, young lady,” Junto finally said. “You rarely miss your mark and do not seem to care if you hit Koyo or Shimshi targets. I find that most intriguing.”

  “How nice. A stalker. That means you know I acquire from many sources. Yakuza are no one special. It’s the challenge that I like.”

  A hint of a smile broke the craggy lines of his face. “A quality I understand. You are a woman of uncommon skill. You’ve outplayed many, including my carefully trained warriors. I admire and respect that ability.”

  She couldn’t care less. Her assignments were complicated and demanding, but mostly accomplished on the fly. What success she enjoyed came from a blend of training, audacity, and sheer good luck. This job went off the charts, and her current status could only be called grim. She glanced up at the pale gray light coming through the windows. If Dallas didn’t come through soon, she might be in trouble.

  “Tell me about your latest find.”

  For something thought lost to history, Phantom Pearl seemed to be attracting a lot of attention. Not entirely unusual, the artifact was rare and priceless, but so were many other pieces she’d acquired.

  “It’s spectacular,” she said. “It’s also cursed.”

  He leaned both hands on his cane and stared at her. “Such a fanciful notion for a woman of your intellect.”

  Maybe. The idea had been pure speculation at first, but she began to believe there might be something to it. “From the moment I arrived in Australia, it’s been a source of constant chaos and danger. If you were smart, you’d run the other way.”

  He appeared unconcerned with her warning. “I’ve been told the piece is remarkably preserved considering it went through a plane crash,” Junto said. “You have seen it. Tell me, is the writing legible?”

  Writing? Realization of deeper forces at work began to dawn. This was about the inscription on the band. She needed to think, to get her blood flowing, so she stood and moved behind the chair, gripping the back for support. She had yet to regain a sense of balance, but she wasn’t going to find it sitting down.

  “Phantom Pearl was perfect. Not even a scratch,” she replied. “But she’s been through a lot since then. Thanks to you and your heavy-handed thugs, I can no longer vouch for her condition.”

  “She can’t, but I can,” said a voice from the doorway.

  Her heart leapt. Kai stood inside the warehouse holding the Pearl’s custom case in his hand. But it was Dallas Landry standing beside him that quickened her pulse and gave her hope.

  He’d come for her. He could’ve taken Phantom Pearl and gone back to the States a hero. But he was here, prepared to hand it over to the enemy. For her. She drew in a ragged breath, consumed with a confusing mix of joy and dismay.

  She tried to smile for him, to let him know she was okay. His frown said he didn’t buy it.

  Two of Junto’s gorillas instantly flanked Dallas and Kai, prepared to handle the intrusion with lethal force should their leader give the order.

  Junto sighed and turned to face the newcomers. “Sorera o koeru goei,” he said to his men in Japanese.

  One of the gorillas pointed toward Junto and shoved Dallas from behind. He didn’t react, just kept his eyes locked with hers and calmly made the trek to the center of the bay. Kai followed, but as they drew closer his steps slowed.

  Junto smiled. “Nice of you to finally show up, Mr. Menita.”

  Kai’s eyes widened in shock as he stared at Junto.
It took a sharp reprimand from one of the guards to get him moving forward again.

  “Sakura,” Kai said, his eyes never veering from the warlord. “You are not who I expected to find.”

  Riki frowned, glancing between Kai and Junto in confusion. Sakura? That made no sense.

  “You are late,” Junto said.

  Kai shrugged. “Complications. Why is the leader of Koyo in the middle of a Shimshi kidnapping?” he asked.

  Excellent question. She wanted to know the answer, but Dallas had walked straight to her and there was no containing the burst of happiness at seeing him, despite the severity of their situation.

  Worry lined his face as he reached out to brush at the dirt smudges on her cheek. “Are you hurt?” he asked quietly.

  She shook her head. “I’m okay,” she whispered back.

  He pulled her into the security of his arms and, for a brief second, she melted into the comfort he offered.

  But a growing argument intruded.

  “Junto is not Koyo,” Cho mocked. “He is dragon leader of Shimshi.”

  Kai laughed. “He is Sakura and overlord of Koyo for the past two decades.”

  Ken Cho pulled his gun and stepped back, his men instantly at his side. Junto’s men went on the defensive, lining both sides of their charge, prepared to strike.

  “Cease!” Junto shouted.

  Everyone responded to the authority in his command, but it was a tension filled stand-off that threatened to erupt any second.

  “Take this,” Dallas whispered.

  He passed a small dagger between them, and Riki stuffed the sheath into her waistband, grateful to have any sort of weapon again.

  Dallas released her and tried to push her behind him, but she refused. Instead, she stood beside him, ready to fight. She might be weakened by the drug, but she was no delicate flower in need of protection, no matter what her name implied.

  The old man arrogantly strolled to the center of the crowd and stood tall, commanding attention. “I am Junto Sakura, Master of the Imperial Guard.”