I smile. “Yeah, we should.”
She moves past me, heading for the elevator. She turns and glances over her shoulder. Waves at Ichiro. “It was nice to meet you.”
He chuckles. “The pleasure was mine, sweet angel.”
She disappears inside, and the number above it begins to count down as she heads for the first floor.
I turn to Ichi and roll my eyes. “Will you knock it off? You’re making me look bad.”
He directs his chuckle at me as it graduates to a belly laugh. “You may be Shinigami , but you still have much to learn when it comes to women.”
I shake my head as I grab my jacket off the back of a chair, heading for the elevator. “I swear, if you call me ‘Daniel-san,’ I’m going to shoot you.”
I take my Pilot from my jacket pocket and place it in my ear. I have the Ili too, in case I need it. Although, I suspect there won’t be much need for me to talk where I’m going.
Ichiro appears beside me. “All the crane kicks in world cannot help you now.”
I shrug the jacket on and tap the gun at my back, for reassurance. It’s fully loaded. Eight rounds, plus one in the chamber. No spare mags to hand. Nine bullets mean the first nine people I see are already dead. If there’s more, I’ll reach down their throats and tear out their fucking lungs.
We stand side by side, watching silently as the display reaches zero. After a long minute, it begins counting back up.
I look over at him. “Ichi, I wouldn’t ask you to help me. I wouldn’t want to put you in that position.”
He nods solemnly. “I know.”
“So, please don’t think you have to or anything.”
He turns to me and smiles. “I don’t. And I’m not going to. I like my life. No intention ending it today, or watching you commit suicide, you crazy American asshole.”
I nod and smile back, then resume staring at the display, waiting for the elevator to reappear with growing impatience.
“Fair enough.”
A couple of minutes later, the lift arrives. The doors slide effortlessly open, and I step inside. Ichiro follows. I hit the button for the first floor, and the doors close again.
I’m coming for you, Ruby. Just hang in there.
I’m coming.
11
08:21 JST
Ichiro was kind enough to drop me a couple of blocks away from the Golden Tiger. His car was… interesting, in that it wasn’t so much a car as it was a giant roller skate with two doors. I folded myself into the passenger seat, where I sat for over twenty minutes with my knees practically pinned to the side of my head.
Still, it was quicker than walking here, and time is very much of the essence.
I’m standing across the street from the club, which occupies a large corner plot opposite. A huge neon sign hangs lifelessly above the red doors. It’s hard to make out what image it displays during the day, when it’s not glowing. I’m guessing it’s a tiger.
The clouds are low and gray. Slivers of dawn remain, giving the world a dull hue. The wind rushes purposefully around me, but I stand relaxed, ignoring the low temperatures it carries with it.
I take deep, slow breaths.
The old me—the me from a couple years ago—would already have kicked that door down and started shooting at whatever moved inside. I would be seeing the world in a blood-red haze, thinking of nothing except getting Ruby out of there safely.
And don’t get me wrong, it’s taking a considerable amount of effort and self-control not to do that. But the new me—the sensible me—knows that isn’t the right move. At least, not yet.
The city is already teeming with life. Sidewalks are shoulder-to-shoulder as far as the eye can see in all directions. Traffic is congested. The circles I move around in notwithstanding, general gun crime is almost non-existent in Japan. If bullets start flying now, every police officer and news reporter in a fifty-mile radius will be on my ass faster than I can blink. And just like that, the me who, not so long ago, was the most wanted man on the planet will suddenly be back in the spotlight, for the same reason I was the first time. Except this time, there’s no public presidential pardons to bail me out.
So, if I’m going to save Ruby and make sure our new life is still here for her to get back to, I need to think of another way of playing this.
Aww, our boy’s all grown up!
Shut up, Josh.
Y’know, you could always take out the first few guys with your hands… keep it all nice and quiet until you’re further inside, where your gunshots won’t be heard.
You’re not helping, Satan.
I stare over at the building until my vision blurs. I’ve always known I have a habit of overthinking, despite my history of acting impulsively. In an effort to stop being both a walking contradiction and a bullet magnet, I’ve found calming my mind puts me in this almost meditative state, so I see things clearly. I’ve always stayed detached from my job in an emotional sense, but it’s as if this detaches me physically , giving me a better view of the task at hand.
Seriously, dude, when did you learn that?
Josh remains a sarcastic pain in my ass, even when he’s part of my subconscious.
I don’t even know. It just kind of came to me one day that it might be a better way of doing things.
It’s only taken you twenty years. I can’t believe you waited until I was dead…
Seriously, will you shut up? I’m trying to concentrate.
All right, keep your panties on! Jesus…
I roll my eyes to myself and re-focus.
Ichiro said Ruby was being held underneath the nightclub, so underground… maybe two levels. There will be a protected entrance inside, guarded so that not just anyone can access it. That makes sense. But wouldn’t there be another way in or out? It’s the same with my apartment—we have the stairs as well as the elevator, for emergencies. Wouldn’t this place have an additional way of getting out, if for no other reason than health and safety regulations? It might be an illegal, Yakuza-run torture porn club, but I doubt Tetsuo Kazawa would want his rich, piece of shit customers trapped down there in the event of a fire.
So, where would that other exit be?
I scan along the street, away from the main entrance of the club. The building stretches almost half a block away to the right. It’s separated from the next building along by an alley that I can just about see from where I’m standing.
I think we might have a winner.
I pick my spot and jog across the busy road. I slow to a casual stroll, dig my hands into my jacket pockets, and amble past the club. I gaze absently around as I pass. I spot two security cameras—one above the entrance and one further along, facing the entrance to the alley.
That’s not ideal.
It’s easy enough to obscure my face from it, but you should always think worst-case. The worst case here is someone’s watching the feed from that camera right now. That same someone will see the figure of a tall man turning into the alley at the back of their nightclub before nine in the morning. The worst case is that the someone monitoring the security feeds is as paranoid as I am. Which means seeing me will set alarms bells off, and I’ll be greeted by an army of Yakuza before I even discover if there’s an entrance down there or not.
I approach the entrance to the alley. Time to make a decision. I need to be smart, but I can’t forget Ruby’s in there somewhere, enduring God-knows-what from these assholes.
…
…
…
I walk past the alley without hesitation. Just another pedestrian, navigating the sea of humanity, on their way to who-knows-where. I reach the end of the street and turn left.
Plan B.
The building on the next corner is a restaurant. It’s modest in size compared to some but one of the finer places to eat, judging by the look of it through the window. It’s not open, but I can see movement inside. Cleaning staff, maybe. Or the owners.
The back way out of this place should put
me on, or near, the alley at the back of the club. I’m sure there’ll be another camera around the back, but if I’m coming out of the restaurant, anyone watching might not worry as much.
I step into the shallow doorway and tap on the glass. It takes me a couple of attempts, but finally, someone inside looks over at the door. I smile and wave innocently. It’s a small, older woman, wearing an apron and rubber gloves. She shakes her head and gestures with her hands, presumably telling me they’re not open yet.
I give her the thumbs up, still smiling, and gesture her over to the door.
Come on, lady. I need a break.
She totters toward me, looking impatient. Stops next to the glass on the other side of the door. Repeats the gesture she just gave me.
I tilt my head to the side and tap a finger to my Pilot—the new universal gesture to show someone you have the means to understand them. I quickly turn on my Ili too.
“We… closed!” she yells through the glass.
I nod slowly back. “I know. I… I left a bag here last night. Can I please get it?”
She holds my gaze, frowning.
…
…
…
She nods and unlocks the door.
Showtime.
I don’t have an awful lot of time to play the part and talk my way through, so I’ll opt for a more assertive approach.
I step inside and immediately take her hand and begin shaking it.
“Thank you. This means a lot,” I say in an overly happy tone. I maneuver around her, into the restaurant. “It’ll be in the back, I’m sure. I won’t keep you—I’ll just go and get it. I won’t be a moment. Thank you again. This really helps!”
And with that, I let go and walk briskly through the place, ignoring the décor completely as I head behind the counter and into the kitchens. I hear her shouting after me, but I don’t look around. I navigate the cooking stations and the piles of trash bags and make a beeline for the service door, which I’m hoping leads—
Bingo!
I step out into the alley I walked past moments earlier. I’m almost at the opposite end of it. I glance to my left and see people crossing the entrance on the street. To my right, a couple of dumpsters stand haphazardly against a wall, maybe ten feet away. A dead end.
Farther along the opposite wall, heading away from me, I see two doors. The first is a set of double doors with a small canopy above them, shielding a security light. There’s a camera positioned above it and to the right, pointing directly at them. That will be the normal way out of the club, or maybe a more discreet entrance for select clientele.
I think the door I want is the one a few meters beyond that. I can just about make out the top corner of it at the bottom of a narrow set of stairs attached to the wall that descend into apparent darkness. There aren’t any railings or barriers protecting the gap and the stairs, which is perhaps why I didn’t spot it on my way past before. I see two more cameras—one to the left of the stairs, facing them so you can see the face of anyone who walks down them, and one on the wall opposite, attached to the side of the restaurant. I’m doubtful it’s theirs, as it’s also facing the stairs. I imagine the restaurant owners didn’t object too much when asked if they could install the camera there.
That’s definitely my way in, but I can’t see any way of actually getting inside without being picked up by at least two cameras.
Goddammit.
For all I know, I could be standing directly above Ruby right now. I’m so close, it’s infuriating.
I’m telling you, man… just rush the place. You’ll be fine!
My ever-helpful Inner Satan.
He might be right, though. At least going in the back way would give me some element of surprise, compared to kicking down the front door.
Honestly, what would Ruby do if she were me right now?
…
…
…
She’d strut in there, naked as the day she was born, and slaughter everyone without hesitation.
Well, I’m not getting naked for anyone, but…
I whip out my 1911, flick the safety off, snap my aim steady, and fire three rounds in quick succession. All three security cameras pop, fizzle, and smoke as they’re destroyed. The suppressor did a decent job of keeping the noise down, and the bustle of the busy streets beyond the alley will take care of any travelling sound.
Six rounds left.
I walk hurriedly toward the stairs and descend them with careful steps. I pause at the door. It looks solid. I have to assume it’s locked.
Now that three cameras have been disabled, whoever’s inside likely knows I’m coming. Or, at least, that someone is coming. If I were them, my money would be on whoever it is coming through this door right here, which means once this opens, it’s game on.
I take a deep breath, steeling my nerves and feeding off the rush of adrenaline.
In for a penny…
I raise my gun, glance away, and fire a round just above the handle. The lock pops and the frame splinters. The door rocks on its hinges, creating a gap maybe an inch wide. I step back and blast it open with a sturdy boot. With my gun raised, senses heightened and battle ready, I move inside.
…in for a pound.
12
09:04 JST
The narrow corridor ahead of me is lit by crimson bulbs, stationed intermittently along the walls behind a thin glass shade. The walls, along with the floor and the ceiling, are all dark. Perhaps not black but close to it in this low light. It’s like whoever designed this place went through the checklist of requirements for a stereotypical lap-dancing bar and made sure they ticked every box.
There are three doors along each side, with a set of double doors at the far end, barely visible in the ambience. I doubt I’ll be lucky enough to find Ruby in one of these rooms near the exit, but you never know. My gut says I need the doors at the end, but I’ll check each of these rooms as I pass anyway.
I take slow, cautious steps down the corridor, my gun held low and ready. I approach the first door on my left and wrap my hand gently around the handle, listening for any movement inside.
…
…
…
I hear… I don’t know. I hear something . Not voices but muffled sounds.
I check my watch.
This place can’t still be open, surely?
I hear something else too. Movement. Delicate footsteps. I can’t tell if it’s from inside the room, or…
Behind me!
I spin around, levelling my gun so it’s aiming right between the eyes of—
“Mia?”
My mouth drops open slightly. Mia’s standing in front of me, close to the wall, with an expression on her face like a puppy standing next to a freshly chewed shoe.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I hiss.
She looks away momentarily. “I… ah… I followed you. I’m so sorry!”
“Jesus! Why?”
“Because! I… I want to be a journalist, remember? My instincts were telling me you were caught up in something. When your old friend came to your apartment, I saw the change in you. Like something was wrong. I was… I dunno—curious, I guess.”
I lower my gun, suddenly aware I’m still aiming it at her.
“Mia… you need to leave, okay? Right now. This isn’t the type of place you should be in. And I’m not the type of guy you should be following.”
“Yeah, I… I see that.” She swallows hard. Her eyes are focused on anything except me. “Why do you have a gun?”
I hesitate, frustrated that I failed to hide this part of me from her.
“Look, I guess I do owe you some kind of explanation, but now isn’t the time, all right? You remember Ruby, my friend?”
She nods.
“Well, she’s in trouble. I’m here to make sure she’s okay.”
Mia frowns. “What kind of trouble?”
“The worst kind.”
“But… this is just some
crappy nightclub. How much trouble can she—”
“This crappy nightclub is owned by the Yakuza. And the bit of it we’re in right now isn’t where you come to drink and dance with your friends. This is where rich, powerful assholes come to do horrible things to innocent people. And someone brought Ruby here.”
She puts her hands to her mouth and gasps. “Oh my God! Shouldn’t we call the police or something?”
I shake my head. “The police won’t care. Chances are, the people who own this place have paid them off anyway.”
I look back at the way I came in. Thinking about it, I can’t send her out there on her own. There’s no way whoever’s here doesn’t know someone’s coming. There could be anyone waiting out there. I hate to admit it, but right now, she’s probably safer with me.
I put my hand on her shoulder. She flinches for a second but soon relaxes.
“Mia, it’ll be okay, I promise. But now you’re here, it’s too dangerous to send you away on your own, and I can’t leave until I have Ruby. So, you’re gonna have to stick with me.”
She nods hurriedly. “O-o-okay.”
“You’ve gotta stay quiet, stay behind me, and do exactly what I say.”
She nods again.
“And…” I let out a heavy breath. “You might see me do things that aren’t very nice. But I swear to you, I’m not a bad guy, okay?”
She looks away, then puts her hand on my arm. “I know. You’re a good person, Adrian. You saved me the other night. Now you’re going to save your friend. Whatever you do, it’s okay. I understand. You’re a… hero.”
She smiles innocently.
I smile back, uncomfortable and embarrassed.
“I’m… ah… I’m a lot of things, Mia. But I’m not a hero. Now come on. The sooner we find Ruby, the sooner we can get out of here.”
I move to the door and slowly turn the handle, not wanting to startle whoever might be on the other side of it. My grip tightens around the butt of my gun. I glance down at it for reassurance. The suppressor’s in place. I know it’s still holding five rounds.
I don’t know why I’m so hesitant to push the door open. I guess I don’t want to find Ruby in a bad way. Or worse. That said, from what Ichiro told me about this place, who knows what I’ll find in here. I don’t want to expose Mia to anything too…
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