Blowback

by James P. Sumner

  He stares at me, wide-eyed and confused.

  I shrug back at him. “Hey, don’t look at me. I know better.”

  He smirks, takes a patient swig of his beer, and smiles back at Ruby as if every word she just said fell on deaf ears.

  “Don’t suppose ya got a sister or a cousin or something called Julie Fisher, do ya?” he asks.

  She frowns. In fact, it’s more like a grimace. As if a bad smell has caught her nose.

  “What?” she demands. “No. Why?”

  Collins shrugs casually. “No reason. Ya just remind me of someone I know. The two of ya would probably get on great, thinkin’ about it.” He pauses to finish his beer, then places the empty bottle down on a coaster. “Foreplay aside, lady, I’m part of an elite unit in GlobaTech that answers directly and only to the man in charge. There are three of us. Josh Winters brought us together. Moses Buchanan inherited us. We’re the people they call when it’s a difficult or delicate situation that they would rather keep quiet, ya know?”

  Ruby relaxes a little. She takes a small step back, seemingly appeased by Collins’s eventual sincerity.

  He approaches me and places a hand on my shoulder. “None of us have had the chance to say this, Adrian, but we’re all real sorry about Josh. He meant a lot to all of us, but to no one more than you. He was a helluva guy. We all fought for him without question.”

  I nod. “Appreciate it. Thanks, Ray.”

  He steps away and takes a long moment to look me up and down. His eyes narrow. He scratches absently at the stubble along his jawline. “No offense, but… ah… ya look like shit, buddy.”

  I smile. “I know. Thanks.”

  “We… ah… we all saw… ya know… what happened to ya.”

  “I think a lot of people did.”

  “Aye. You’re one tough bastard. I’ll give ya that.”

  “Doesn’t feel like it right now, if I’m being honest.”

  “I can imagine. When Moses said ya needed a hand, the three of us started arguing over who would make the trip. We all wanted to have ya back.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Even Jericho?”

  Collins laughs. “Aye, even the big fella. Truth be told, I don’t ever think he’ll be fully sold on ya, but he respected the hell outta Josh after everything he did for him. He would back you up just to honor his memory, if nothing else.”

  Memories of Colombia flood back into my mind. The one and only time I met Jericho Stone. The man was—and probably still is—a monster. Built like a tank and twice as stubborn. Damn good soldier, though. I saved his life back then. I’m not sure he’ll ever forgive me for it.

  “So, how did you manage to get the short straw?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “Well, Jules and Jerry are both damn-near impossible to argue with, but when I explained me and you go way back, Moses chose me. Said it might go more smoothly with a friendly face.”

  “Your teammates not that friendly?” asks Ruby.

  Collins shrugs. “They are once ya get to know them. But they’re not as forthcoming with strangers as I am. Ya see, love, I’m a people person.”

  Ruby lets her head roll back and sighs heavily at the ceiling.

  “I swear to God…” she mutters.

  Collins laughs and looks back at me. “Okay, buddy, I’m here. What do ya need?”

  Ichiro thrusts a new beer in front of him. “Long story. You might need this.”

  “Jesus Christ!” replies Collins, jumping almost out of his skin. “When did ya go to the fridge? I didn’t hear ya move!”

  I smile to myself and take a sip of my own drink.

  Ichiro winks at him. “Be like water.”

  Collins turns to me. “Who’s this guy again?”

  “He’s a friend,” I reply. “A friend who prefers to remain a mystery to people who work for GlobaTech. No offense.”

  He shakes his head. “No problem. No one would believe I met a goddamn geriatric ghost ninja anyway…”

  Ichiro and Ruby share a laugh as we all take a seat.

  “I’ll bullet-point it for you, Ray,” I begin. “Tetsuo Kazawa runs one of the largest and most powerful Yakuza families in Tokyo. He was the brawn behind my much-publicized ass-kicking. He’s currently relaxing in the penthouse suite of a skyscraper he owns in the city. He’s surrounded in all directions by loyal, well-trained, well-armed Yakuza street soldiers, and he’s pissed at me. I, in turn, intend to put a bullet right between his fucking eyes.”

  Collins lets out a low whistle. “Jesus, Adrian, ya don’t half pick ’em. I get why ya want him dead, but even you have to understand ya can’t win a fight this one-sided, surely? Ya don’t have a tank now, sunshine!”

  “He has a girl with him, Miley. She’s the brains. A little over five years ago, I saved her from a gangster named Jimmy Manhattan. She was kidnapped as leverage because her mother, an assassin, had been hired to kill me and didn’t really want to. She’s pissed at me because she blames me for her mother’s death.”

  “Okay. And did ya kill her mom?”

  I shrug. “I didn’t pull the trigger, but I’d never deny my part in it. It was kill or be killed, just like it is now. That’s the world we live in.”

  “I see.”

  “Young Miley has spent her formative years training to kill me and has used the small fortune her mother left her to make alliances with the Yakuza. She’s the one who did the torturing in the home movie you saw. She won’t stop… ever… until I’m dead. Kazawa does what she wants; ergo, neither will he.”

  “So, your thinking is that ya have to take the fight to them because they’ll hunt ya down if ya don’t.”

  I shrug again. “Pretty much.”

  “And ya main problem is getting to the bastard?”

  “It is.”

  “Okay.” Collins takes a long drink of his beer and gets to his feet, dangling the bottle between his fingers as he paces idly back and forth in front of us. Finally, he stops and looks at me. “Ya know the boss won’t let me break any laws, don’t ya? Like, I can’t just start shooting at people because you tell me to. I’ve gotta be all respectable and whatnot nowadays.”

  I nod. “I know. And of course, you can’t break the law by taking part in an assault on Japanese citizens without just cause.”

  “Ah… yeah, right.”

  I look over at Ruby. “Show him.”

  Ruby leans forward on the sofa and spins the laptop around on the coffee table, so the screen is facing him.

  I point to it. “There’s your just cause.”

  Collins crouches by the table and starts reading.

  In the absence of a clear way forward, Ruby and I spent the day looking for alternative ways to hurt Kazawa. We can’t get to him to shoot him, so we looked at his family’s enterprises, legitimate and otherwise. It turns out one of the many corrupt pies Kazawa has his fingers in is firearms trafficking—selling and using stolen weapons. More specifically, stolen GlobaTech weapons.

  “Sonofabitch…” says Collins as he finishes reading.

  “Well?” inquires Ruby. “Good enough for you?”

  He nods. “I’ll be able to convince Jules and Buchanan there’s enough evidence here to go official. But still…” He looks at me. “I can’t go in guns-a-blazing, like I assume you want to.”

  “No one’s asking you to, Ray. But if someone happens to start shooting at you…”

  He shrugs. “Then the dumb bastards are fair game.”

  “Exactly.” I look at everyone in turn. “Assaulting Kazawa’s building is plan B. It’s stupid and next-to-impossible, but if all else fails, we kick his front door down and spit bullets at whatever moves. Whoever dies first, loses.”

  “That’s a real shitty plan B, buddy,” observes Collins.

  I nod. “Correct. Which is why I’m hoping plan A works.”

  “What’s plan A?” asks Ruby, confused.

  The truth is, I didn’t get all that much sleep today. Ruby played a small part in that, for which I’m eternally grate
ful, but mostly it was because my mind was running nowhere fast, trying to think of a way to end all this. I fell asleep with half a plan. I woke up with a full one. Like most things, I’ll need a little luck, but it’s a sound strategy. I think.

  I smile at her before looking over at Ichiro. “What do the other families think of Kazawa?”

  He strokes his long, thin beard with patient and deliberate movements, taking deep breaths as he ponders my question.

  “No one like him,” he says, finally. “No one respect him. They all think he… douche… bag.”

  I smile to myself. His attempts at American slang never cease to amuse me. “And has word travelled that he was bankrolling my humiliation and all-round torture?”

  Ichiro nods. “That was not well-received, Shinigami . He dishonors all Yakuza with such things.”

  Collins raises his hands. “I’m sorry… Shini-what now?”

  “It means ‘Grim Reaper’ in Japanese,” answers Ruby.

  He nods. “Ah, okay. Nice.”

  “What are you thinking?” asks Ichiro.

  I take a sip of beer. “I’m thinking we ask for some help.”

  “From who?” asks Ruby, pointing at Collins. “We have G.I. Jamesons over here… who else is there to ask?”

  Collins furrows his brow with mock offense. “Hey!”

  Ichiro locks eyes with me. His gaze narrows. His head begins shaking with the smallest of movements.

  “You cannot be serious…” he mutters.

  “Oh, I am,” I reply, smiling.

  “Can someone tell me what’s going on?” demands Ruby.

  I turn to her. “If the other Yakuza families hate Kazawa as much as us, maybe they’ll lend a hand. Even up the odds a little. The enemy of my enemy… and all that.”

  Now Ruby’s eyes narrow. I recognize the look of disapproval and doubt on her face from a thousand times before.

  “Who, exactly?”

  “There’s only one family powerful enough to start a war with Kazawa,” says Ichiro.

  I nod. “The Oji-gumi.”

  Collins shakes his head. “Okay, can ya please stop making up words?”

  Ruby puts her beer down impatiently. “Adrian, didn’t you…”

  I nod again. “Yup.”

  Collins sighs. “Oh, come on! Stop speaking in bloody riddles here, would ya?”

  I look at him. “About a week ago, I killed a guy named Santo and three of his bodyguards. He was a lieutenant of Akuma Oji, the head of the Oji-gumi Family.”

  He nods. “Let me get this straight. The only people who can help also happen to want you dead? Jesus…”

  “Not necessarily…”

  “It is unlikely they know it was you who carried out hit on Santo,” says Ichiro. “But still… this is dangerous game you playing.”

  I shrug. “Maybe. But it’s our only shot. If I can convince the Oji-gumi to start a war with Kazawa, it’ll flush him and Miley out. Their soldiers can kill each other. We’ll watch from the sidelines. I’ll take out Kazawa and Miley when the time is right. Everyone wins.”

  “Adrian, when is it ever that simple?” asks Ruby.

  “It’ll be fine,” I say to her. “Trust me.”

  “Famous last words,” she mutters.

  I walk over to the kitchen area and retrieve four more beers from the fridge. I line them up on the counter, pop the top of each one, and look up at the others.

  “This is what we’re gonna do,” I begin. “First thing tomorrow, Ichiro and I are going to have a sit-down with Akuma Oji. Ruby, I want you and Ray to run recon on Kazawa’s tower block. We need to know how many people he has with him and how many civilians might potentially be in the crossfire.”

  “Are we expecting some collateral damage here?” asks Collins solemnly.

  I shake my head. “I don’t want any, obviously, but we can’t rule out the possibility this piece of shit will use innocent people as a human shield. The building he owns is used by many businesses. Not all of them are Yakuza. Not all of them are illegal. If we’re going to bring the fight to his front door, we need to know how many people we’ll be putting in danger, so we can work around them.”

  Collins approaches the counter first, followed by Ruby, then Ichiro. They line up in front of me, each taking an ice-cold bottle in their hand.

  “This is some large-scale crazy,” says Collins. “Kinda wish I’d let Jericho come now…”

  “If this goes how I want it to, we’ll all be nothing more than spectators in a Yakuza turf war. Your strategy and firepower are a welcome asset, Ray. Plus, you lend legitimacy to any involvement on our part that might get noticed.”

  Silence falls. We all raise our bottles, tilting the necks so they meet in the middle. A quiet salute to the insanity agreed upon.

  “I must go,” announces Ichiro. “If we are to do this, I must make arrangements for meeting tomorrow, Adrian-san.”

  I nod. “Thanks, Ichi. I appreciate it. Watch your back out there, okay?”

  He walks backward away from the counter, his arms held out slightly to the sides, a big, crazy smile on his face.

  “Please! I was Shinigami long before you were.” He laughs his trademark laugh, then turns and walks over to the elevator. The doors open. He steps inside and turns to face us. “Be outside tomorrow. Eight a.m.”

  The doors slide shut. The display begins counting down.

  “Now what?” asks Ruby.

  I shrug. “Now we drink. Tomorrow, we go to war.”

  I walk around the counter and head for the sofa. Ruby follows me.

  “Hey, can I have the old guy’s beer?” asks Collins.

  24

  October 24, 2019 – 07:56 JST

  Fuck me, it’s cold.

  The sun’s only just starting to climb behind the thick, gray cloud that dominates the sky. The temperature’s in the low fifties. I’m huddled into my coat, the collar turned up against the wind, my hands deep in the pockets. I’m shuffling on the spot—a futile gesture to stay warm. A storm is forecast to hit in the next day or so.

  They’re not wrong there…

  The sidewalk outside my apartment building is quiet. In this part of town, it doesn’t get too busy this early. There’s a daytime bustle once work begins, but the bonus of living somewhere so expensive is there aren’t many others who can afford to join you.

  Ruby, Collins, and I sat up until the early hours last night, drinking, catching up, and sharing stories. We all took it easy with the beer. I’m taking standard pain medication now, and I need it to be as effective as possible—which means keeping alcohol to a minimum, despite the temptation to do otherwise.

  My wounds are getting easier to manage. The bruising and swelling around my face have reduced, although I still have my protective mask with me, just in case. The minor cuts and bruises that cover my body are largely unnoticeable now. My hand’s still giving me grief, but nothing new there.

  I’m far from a hundred percent, but I’m a lot nearer to it than I was a couple of days ago.

  Ruby and Collins are going to wait for the city to hit its stride before heading out to recon Kazawa’s tower. Easier to blend into the chaos.

  I breathe out heavily. The thin stream of air from my lungs manifests in front of me before evaporating just as fast.

  Come on, Ichi. I’m freezing my—

  Ah. Here he is.

  Ichiro pulls over in front of me in his tiny car. I hate it, but it beats walking.

  I quickly climb in beside him, and he sets off again, narrowly avoiding the car approaching from behind. His hands are tight on the wheel. I notice the color has drained from his knuckles. His mouth is little more than a thin line, hidden inside his beard. His eyes are intensely focused on the road.

  “Everything okay?” I ask him after a couple of minutes sitting in silence.

  He sighs a taut breath. “We have the meeting with Akuma Oji, as requested.”

  “That’s good, right? Where is it?”

  “In park by
Tokyo Dome, overlooking the Shinto shrine. He goes there every morning without fail.”

  I roll my eyes. “It couldn’t have been indoors…”

  He navigates the steady traffic with aggressive and angular movements of the wheel.

  “This was only way, Adrian. I had to…”

  He trails off. His tone was short and sharp, as if he’s pissed about something.

  I frown. “You had to… what?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Ichi…”

  “To secure the meeting, I had to give up noodle bar. I had to declare my property and my street for Oji-gumi family.”

  “What? You had to hand over your business for a simple meeting? That’s a bit extreme, isn’t it?”

  Ichiro shrugs. “That is Akuma Oji.”

  Oh, shit.

  “Ichiro, I’m so sorry. I know what that place meant to you. Is there any way—”

  He shakes his head. “No. It was that, or no meeting.”

  “If I’d known, I never would’ve—”

  “Don’t say it, Adrian. Okay? Just… don’t. We need the Oji-gumi on our side. This was only way. It is right thing to do. Kazawa will continue to bring dishonor to the streets of this city. He must be stopped. If it wasn’t your war, sooner or later, it would be someone else’s.”

  We stop at a set of lights, and he looks over at me.

  “You have no… how you say? Agenda . Your reason for this fight is personal, not political. You live here couple of years, yes? I live here whole life. This is my city, Adrian. I fought for it and bled for it since I was child. I retire. Leave that life with respect of every family. That bar… that street… holy ground here. My ground. But I had to give it up for your war. I had to pick a side. Like it or not.”

  We set off again and turn right, putting the river behind us and the Tokyo Dome a couple of miles dead ahead. The ominous structure is faded by distance but still dominates the skyline.

  Silence has fallen inside the car. It’s actually a little awkward. I’m staring out the window, watching the monochromatic world pass us by. I feel terrible.

  “I do not blame you, Shinigami ,” continues Ichiro, as if reading my mind. “This is just what needed to be done. No one has sacrificed more than you to this cause. We are friends, you and me. I want to help. I want this fight to be over. For all of us. You deserve peace.”