“Yeah, I guess so. What happened to Kazawa’s yacht?”
“Local authorities are still investigating the wreckage, with a helping hand from GlobaTech.”
“I thought they can’t get involved?”
“Usually, they can’t. But given the evidence we provided to Collins, they had a way to justify offering their assistance.”
I think for a moment, almost afraid to ask.
“Is there any sign…”
“…of Miley? No. They’re still recovering bodies. Collins gave me a de-brief earlier, while you were still out. Said they’ve found Kazawa and a handful of others, but there’s a lot of debris to sift through. They confirmed additional wreckage of a chopper and two speedboats though, which ties in with what you were saying about the back-up.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Adrian, it’s fine. Honestly. It’s over.”
I smile. “Guess I’m just not used to having no war to fight.”
“Well, you don’t. Not anymore. Neither of us do. And if you ask me, once you’re back on your feet, we should leave Tokyo and settle down somewhere else. Somewhere new.”
“Sounds like a great idea.”
“And let’s both try and leave the business behind this time, yeah? Actually retire and just… rest.”
I go to speak, but a phone ringing stops me.
I look around, confused. “Is that you?”
She shakes her head. “No, it’s not my ringtone.” She looks over at a bag resting on a nearby chair. “Wait, it might be yours. I brought some things from the apartment yesterday, for when you wake up.”
She moves over it and rummages inside, producing a ringing cell phone a second or two later. As she hands it to me, I look at the screen. See the caller ID.
I close my eyes as I feel my heart sink.
“What is it?” she asks, seeing my reaction.
“You know that whole retirement plan of yours?”
“Yeah…”
I show her the screen of the phone. I watch as her heart sinks to meet mine.
“I have a feeling that’s not gonna happen.” I answer the call and place the phone to my ear. “What can I do for you, Mr. President?”
THE END
A MESSAGE FROM THE AUTHOR
Dear Reader,
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James P. Sumner
Epilogue #1
November 2, 2019 – 15:46 JST
The car pulls over outside Narita International Airport. The drive took just under an hour from the apartment. It felt longer for me because I was folded into the passenger side of Ichiro’s Suzuki Roller Skate. He was kind enough to bring us here.
I’m well on my way to recovery, which I guess I have Ruby to thank for as much as the fine folks at GlobaTech Tokyo. If it wasn’t for her threatening me with violence if I so much as breathed in the direction of the door to my hospital room, I wouldn’t have rested up half as well as I have.
The three of us stand in a loose triangle on the sidewalk outside the main entrance. The sky is gray and harmless today. The weather is cold without being particularly bad, despite the time of year. Ruby and I have an overnight bag with some essentials inside. No point in having anything other than carry-on baggage for the flight.
It’s been a week since President Schultz called me. I’m well enough to travel, so we’re heading to D.C. in a couple of hours.
I extend a hand to Ichiro, which he shakes gladly. “Thank you, my friend. For everything.”
He laughs his trademark, slightly insane belly laugh. “Shinigami , it has been honor!”
“At least you’ll be kept busy and out of trouble,” says Ruby before embracing him and kissing his cheek. “Now you have your noodle bar back.”
He laughs again. “Busy, yes. Out of trouble? Never!”
I smile. I’m going to miss him.
“It was a nice gesture from Akuma, handing back control of your business,” I say. “I’m really happy for you. I felt terrible that you had to give it up in the first place.”
“A necessary evil. And the right choice. Good deeds breed good deeds.”
I smile. “Fortune cookie wisdom?”
He smiles back and taps his chest. “Ichiro wisdom.”
“And our slate is definitely clean?” asks Ruby.
Ichiro nods. “Akuma Oji was very clear. The blood debt Adrian owed for Santo was paid by taking out Kazawa.”
“That’s good,” I say with a sigh of relief. “I guess with Kazawa out of the picture now, a lot of Tokyo is in a state of flux. You look after yourself, Ichi.”
“Quite the opposite, Shinigami . I suspect word got around that Akuma paid you to wipe out Kazawa. The Oji-gumi are back on top. Everyone else back in line. Peace on the streets.”
“Uh-huh. That’s worked out very nicely for everyone, then. How, I wonder, did that slightly dramatized version of what happened travel around so quickly?”
Ichiro shrugs and remains silent.
I let slip a small, knowing smile. “I suspect whoever did it was experienced enough and smart enough to know what would happen if such a story got out. How it would benefit everything the way it has.”
He shrugs again and winks at me.
“We’d best get going,” says Ruby.
I grab my bag and sling it gently over my shoulder.
“When will you be back?” Ichiro asks me.
I shrug. “I honestly don’t know. Ryan wasn’t exactly forthcoming with information. I’m not sure what he wants me for, but I’m hoping whatever it is doesn’t take long. I need a vacation.”
He laughs. “Stay out of trouble, Shinigami . You too, Shi No Tenshi . See you both when you return.”
That means Angel of Death.
Ruby blushes. I think she’s happy she has her own nickname.
Ichiro nods a final farewell. He gets back in his car and drives away, leaving Ruby and I standing side-by-side, looking at the entrance to the airport.
“You ready for this?” she asks.
I shrug. “Does it matter?”
“I suppose not. Presidential orders an’ all that. So, are we?”
“Are we what?”
“Coming back here?”
“I don’t know. Would you want to?”
“I don’t think so, no. You?”
“Honestly? As long as I’m with you, I couldn’t care less where we are.”
She smiles and takes my hand in hers. We walk into the airport, immediately swallowed up by the sea of people as we prepare to head back to the States.
Back home.
Acknowledgments
This book has been a long time coming!
I began writing this mid-2018, excited by the fact I had been planning this particular chapter of Adrian’s life for almost four years.
Sadly, life has a bad habit of getting in the way sometimes. Honestly, it felt like something was telling me I shouldn’t write this novel. I had to deal with a divorce, severe mental health struggles, and a trip to the hospital with stress-related chest pains. I almost gave up.
But I didn’t. Writing has always been my one true love in life, and I wanted to get back to being me. To being happy.
And so here we are, two years later, at the end of what I consider my strongest novel to date.
I worked hard to overcome what I did, but I didn’t do it alone. The people that helped me along the way deserve recognition.
Claire - one of my oldest friends and my surrogate big sister. She supported me through the tough times and shared in my joy during the good times that came after. I would be truly lost without her in my life.
Adam - my b
rother from another mother, who’s been a consistent part of my life for many, many years. As much a part of my family as anyone, he is the consummate distraction for when times are too tough to face.
Alexis - a strong and beautiful soul I’ve known almost twenty years. Having her to talk to about things that affect my mental health is invaluable, and I love her unconditionally.
Rick - a guy I’ve known since I was eight years old. We reconnected a couple of years ago and have become very close friends. I’m incredibly proud of him for being on the front lines in recent times as a nurse. He understands the troubles I’ve been through all too well, and he has always been there to pick me up when I’ve been down.
Coral - my long-time editor who, yet again, has taken a good book and made it great. Her work is on another level, and I couldn’t be happier having worked with her once more. She is also much, much more to me than an editor, and her personal love and support has helped me focus and find happiness again.
Finally, to my readers. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for your dedicated and continued support of me and my work. I genuinely love each and every one of you, and I want you all to know… I’m back.
This one is for all of you.
Thank you.
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Epilogue #2
November 3, 2019 – 02:16 JST
“Is it done?”
“Yes. Kazawa’s dead. His organ trafficking business along with him.”
“Good. And the assassin?”
“Should’ve landed in Washington a couple of hours ago.”
“Hmm. He got the call sooner than we had expected.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No. We’ll just have to bring a couple of things forward.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“For now? Nothing. Keep a low profile, rest up, and wait for my call.”
“I thought you wanted me to go after your next target?”
“Not yet. Besides, he’s proving difficult to track down. When the time is right, we may need to go straight for plan B.”
“The woman?”
“Yes. You find her, he will find you.”
“I’ll await your call.”
The line clicked dead.
Miley Tevani looked out over the Tokyo skyline for a moment longer before moving over to the sofa and sitting down heavily. She felt frustrated but knew better than to question her orders.
She pressed gently at the extensive bandaging covering her neck. The stitching had begun to irritate her. She gazed absently around the penthouse, trying not to think of the night she spent here a couple of weeks ago.
But she knew he wouldn’t be back. There was no reason for anyone to think she was alive. She had been careful to cover her tracks. But even if anyone did, no one would think to look for her in Adrian Hell’s apartment.
Here, she could bide her time and fully recover. Yes, she had her orders, which she would obey without question. But she also had her own agenda. Her own mission.
Make Adrian Hell suffer.
Hooked? Hungry for more?
The next book in the Adrian Hell series is:
COMING SOON
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