Pandora's Succession (18 page)

Fox sighed with a chuckle. “It was all staged. Only one of the scientists had torn clothing, meaning that he was the only one attacked with the dagger found at the scene. Up until now, no one has been arrested at any of the checkpoints set up on all of the highways and airports. The culprit or culprits were on a suicide mission.”

“Exactly.”

“Tell me a bit about Tanaka. What’s he like?” asked Fox.

“There’s not much to say about him. He’s been Head of Section for the past ten years. He lost his only daughter in a traffic accident about six years ago. He got the news while at a Tchaikovsky recital with his wife on their wedding anniversary. Other than that, he’s normally reserved. Why?”

“I was curious. Wanted to see if there was a connection between his...” Fox paused just when he noticed that Katori had stopped walking with him and was two steps behind him. What he wanted to know was if there was a connection between Tanaka and the other brainwashing victims.

Fox didn’t have to know what was on Katori’s mind. From his body language, he knew that Katori sensed that there was something wrong—as though they were being watched.

Katori pulled the peak of his baseball cap lower over his face and walked quickly in the opposite direction away from Fox.

Fox ran and caught up to him as Katori said to him. “Sato will get in touch with you and tell you the rest.” They passed through the exit and walked out onto the sidewalk. Fox had to shout to be heard above the noise from the cars and trucks that zoomed by. “Look, I can get you protection.”

“What are you going to do, call them? The Boeisho will trace your phone signal, or worse yet, even block your call. Think. You sat in Tanaka’s car. Did it occur to you that he had a recording device to register your voice patterns so they could be used to track you?”

Damn, he’s right.

“Besides, it’ll do neither of us any good. Not against them. Now I’m warning you, Fox. This meeting is over.”

“No, it isn’t.” Fox grabbed Katori by the shoulder, and he immediately and violently slapped him off. He stared back at Fox with narrowed eyes and heavy breathing.

“Listen, it’s always on our terms when either I or Sato chooses to meet with you. We know who these people are and how far they’re willing to go. So if you want to stay alive, I suggest you go back to your car and get away from here, and me, as quickly as possible.” He turned and walked away rapidly.

While Katori tried to act tough, Fox knew he was scared. All he could do was obey him and nothing else. He watched Katori run off to the curb where he was just in time to catch the bus.

Fox ran the opposite way in a slow jog and snatched his cell phone off his belt clip. With his thumb he switched it off and replaced it on its clip. Its internal scrambler should keep him undetected for a while. Walsh and Dobbs would be pissed off, Walsh more than Dobbs since Fox hadn’t contacted either of them yet. But after what Katori told him, it was for their own good. But Dobbs should be able to tell whether or not they were under surveillance. He was one of the best technicians he had ever worked with. In fact, Fox wouldn’t be surprised if he knew of every satellite in orbit. The Boeisho wouldn’t find him easily. And as long as Walsh stuck close to him, they shouldn’t find him either.

The Tokyo City Dome was nearby, and Fox headed that way. There were always crowds in which he could lose anyone that may have been following him. Fox already knew where all of the closed-circuit cameras were along the way. It was all a matter of keeping his face hidden from them.

After having walked through the Tokyo City Dome and its labyrinth of underground connecting corridors, he emerged to the surface from an exit that was reserved for city maintenance workers. Fox’s navy sports car was the third car away from the intersection. He used the automatic locking mechanism on his keys to unlock the door, and then got in his car from the street side, where the driver’s side was. When he started her up, a blast of warm air flowed from the vents. He lowered the temperature to a cooler setting, turned up the defogger, and threw the gear into drive.

Whenever he parked, he always left enough space between his car and the back of the car in front of him to allow him to simply drive out. This was useful when he needed to make a quick getaway. Nevertheless, that tactic was useless this time.

A vehicle with disabled headlights screeched to a stop beside Fox. The back bumper lined up exactly with the front end of his car and blocked his path. Just as quickly a red sedan screeched to a halt right behind it, blocking the back passenger door of his car.

Fox expected to see a group of Asian men rush out of the two cars, but to his surprise, two Caucasian men dressed in jeans and light jackets appeared instead. It only took seconds before men with Micro-Uzis surrounded him. For sure if they wanted him dead, Fox knew they would’ve shot him already. These men wanted him alive.

Fox heard a car door slam behind the red sedan, and when he turned to look, Fox saw a man about his height, with thuggish looks and a pair of thick eyebrows that practically joined to become a single brow. He walked up and stood a few feet away from his door.

“Get out of the car. Keep your hands where they can be seen.” The heavy Russian accent gave him away. Valerik’s killers no doubt, and now they came for him. Fox had no plans to become the cause of another pile-up on a Tokyo freeway, but he wasn’t going to be forced to give up intelligence either. This called for a more reckless and aggressive approach. No matter how slim his chances were of getting out unharmed, it was still a chance he had to take.

Chapter 17

The man bent over slightly to look Fox in the eye. “I said get out! I won’t repeat myself.”

With no other alternative, Fox turned off the engine, left the keys in the ignition, and stepped out with his hands exposed. The first two gunmen backed away at forty-five-degree angles beside Single-brow forming a triangle.

Fox stood still, and smirked. “I’ve got to hand it to you guys, being able to get this far without any help.”

Single-brow’s eyes narrowed as he threw an underhand punch to Fox’s stomach. The blow was so heavy that Fox buckled over and fell to the ground, winded. Too disoriented to stand on his own, he felt himself being lifted up and thrown against the side of his car.

Single-brow frisked him from top to bottom and then struck him in the forehead with his palm. “You weren’t told to speak.”

Fox breathed hard as he gave Single-brow a threatening stare in the eyes.
That’s the last time you’ll hit me.
His two Berettas and his cell phone had been removed. No surprise. At least his diversion was enough to distract Single-brow long enough that he forgot to examine the pen that Levickis had given him.

“Now go to last car. You’re coming with us.”

“What for? I already have a car,” panted Fox, still winded. He knew it would provoke Single-brow, and as expected, he threw another punch towards Fox’s stomach, but Fox swung his left arm downwards in a semi-circle and knocked his arm sideways, causing him to turn in the same direction. With his opposite hand, Fox grabbed the shoulder that fell closest to him while he was off balance. He pulled, spinning him around, while he removed the Elite II, all in one motion, and popped off a shot into each gunman before they reacted.

Single-brow couldn’t move, not with the way Fox held onto him. He gasped as he stared at the two corpses, blood oozing onto the street from the single bullet hole between their eyes. Fox breathed out a warm breath on Single-brow’s neck, just enough to cause the tiny hairs to stand on end, and jammed the sidearm into the small of his back. “No, you’re coming with me.”

“Let him go!” yelled an angry voice. “You’re surrounded.”

When Fox looked, four more men with Micro-Uzis appeared both beside and behind him to replace the two he had laid waste to. The man who spoke to him was among the four. Fox noticed how his face reddened under the street lamp above, exposing his buzz cut.

“I’m warning you. Let him go,” Buzz-cut repeated.

Fox turned and saw Buzz-cut’s entourage. Had they not been there, he would’ve gotten away. Fox threw Single-brow’s gun to the ground and shoved him away.

Immediately, one of the gunmen rushed Fox and pulled him away from his car, shoving him in the direction of the last car they drove. Fox caught a glimpse of his face under the streetlight. He had stubble and a thinning black hairline that he tried to hide with a comb-over that didn’t quite work.

Buzz-cut and another man got into Fox’s car while the others went back to the remaining two cars. Only Single-brow and Comb-over headed to the back car. Fox saw the other cars take off quickly. That was no surprise since there were bound to be witnesses who saw Fox waste the two men in self-defense. Within a few minutes, the entire block would be crawling with police, crime scene investigators, and paramedics.

Comb-over opened the car door for Fox. As he was about to get in, he saw a more fancy-dressed man in the backseat. Unlike the other thugs, he wore a suit and tie.

“Get in,” said Comb-over.

“Wait,” said the white-haired man, looking away from Fox towards Single-brow. “Are you okay, Comrade?”

Single-brow’s mouth slanted downwards on both ends as he looked down, followed by a slow nod. “Yes...yes, sir. I’m all right.”

“Are you sure, Comrade? Because from what I saw, Fox disarmed you and used you as a human shield. Now three of my men are dead.”

“Three?” He looked back at the two bodies on the ground. “Sir, there’s only...”

Fox understood what the white-haired man meant, obviously before Single-brow did. The man pleaded apologetically, but the white-haired man was unforgiving. He gave a nod to Comb-over, who aimed his Micro-Uzi at Single-brow with a large grin. A few staccato shots later, his body was thrown to the ground with blood pouring from his face, chest, and stomach. Comb-over then swung the gun at Fox. He grinned again.

“No, Demyan!” growled the white-haired man. “He rides with us, remember?”

Fox couldn’t help but notice Demyan’s smile drop, followed by a huge sigh. While his weapon was still pointed at Fox, he waved its tip towards the back of the car and stepped aside, allowing him to pass. A hard object struck Fox at the back of his head and the world went spinning.

***

When he opened his eyes, he saw the white-haired man beside him, twirling a pen. He gingerly touched the back of his head as he tried to look around. Fox didn’t feel any blood between his fingers, and didn’t have to look outside to tell that the car was speeding.
Jesus, how many more times can my head take another bashing?

The white-haired man turned to Fox. “It still hurts, doesn’t it? It could’ve been worse for you. I noticed that you’ve made friends.”

“Yeah, I was going to invite him out for a drink, but he had a date.”

“Don’t patronize me with your dull humor. You’re a pest and I’m tired of people like you getting in my way. Lucky for you, I’ll give you the chance to redeem yourself. Tell me, what did you learn from your friend?”

“He didn’t say much. He had to catch the bus. Since you know so much about me, why don’t you tell me about yourselves?”

“You know exactly who we are, even though we’ve yet to cross paths personally.”

Fox took a closer look at the pen the man twirled, as he stopped doing so for a moment. “That’s all right. From the word, October, that’s written on the pen you’re twirling, I can assume that you’re all members of the October Cell of Ares. Seeing how you’re dressed, you’re their leader, and like the other leaders of the other cells, nameless. Do you mind if I call you the October Man?”

“Don’t antagonize me. I know he shared intelligence with you. You’re going to tell me what it is and everything you’ve found out since you’ve been here. I’ve dispatched a squad to go pick him up.”

“So you don’t need me. I guess I’ll be on my way. Driver?”

Demyan spun around in the front passenger seat and aimed his Micro-Uzi between Fox’s eyes.

The October Man threw out an arm with an open palm. “No! Not in here.”

Fox looked into his trigger-happy eyes. “He’s right. You wouldn’t want to stain your boss’s suit.”

Demyan sneered and pointed the sidearm away from Fox towards the ceiling, but kept his eyes on him. Fox knew that he ached to use his weapon, and his face became even more menacing when the October Man did not grant him his wish—this time.

“Joke as much as you’d like to. You may not feel threatened right now. But where we’re going, both you and your friend will tell us everything. And I promise that it won’t be comfortable for either of you. You’re familiar with our classic torture techniques.”

“Of course. Come to think of it, in the past twenty-four hours I’ve had my head bashed in with the butt of gun—twice, I’ve been kicked in the shins, and punched in the stomach. A good, old-fashioned interrogation should be fun.”

The October Man didn’t answer. Fox hoped he could stir up his temper. It appeared to distract him. But the one thing that Fox knew that Ares operatives excelled in was their torture techniques—using medieval or ancient methods as a signature. He recalled uncovering one of their victims in the past. The shirtless man had been strapped to a table with a cage on top of his stomach. Fox still had memories of the foul smell in the room before he had seen the large hole in the victim’s stomach—with a rat gnawing away inside. Apparently the cage that housed the rat had been heated, freaking out the rodent so that it had burrowed its way through the man’s stomach and intestines in order to escape.