The Last Assassin (26 page)

L
ISTENING TO DELILAH'S PROGRESS
inside the club, I was both pleased and concerned. Pleased that things had turned out so that she was in a position to report precisely on Yamaoto's position. But concerned that she was closer than was ideal. Certainly she had lost some freedom to maneuver. Sure, she could excuse herself to use the restroom, but what if something held her up on the way? Or if, when she went to do it, Big Liu decided to tag along so he could speak to her privately, make a pass, whatever? There were a dozen ways this unexpected arrangement could cause problems for us.

In fact, it already had, because she was no longer free to speak and so couldn't give Dox and me the real-time updates I wanted. She'd been doing a nice job of keeping us informed under the guise of talking to the people she was with, true, but that kind of communication had its limits.

Well, she knew where Yamaoto was right now and could tell me soon enough. In the meantime, I wanted to get things rolling.

“Delilah,” I said, “I'm going to jam the main room emergency exit door now. We'll use the basement exit, per the plan. If that's okay, clear your throat.”

She did.

“Okay,” I said. “I'm on my way. I'll be in touch again in a few minutes.”

I picked up one of the steel bars and started moving in. I was wearing a navy suit, deep blue shirt, and a navy tie. Dark, dark, and dark isn't exactly the height of sartorial splendor, in my book, but the outfit served two purposes. Out here, it would reassure anyone who might see me that I was a fine, upstanding citizen, perhaps carrying away some refuse. I'd have to keep my right side away from an onlooker, of course, lest the suppressed HK and thigh rig spoil the effect, but in low light that would be good enough. A black ninja outfit and matching balaclava just wouldn't have conveyed as favorable an impression. And later, inside the club, with the lights out, the outfit would make me that much less visible. The rubber-soled Clarks shoes I was wearing weren't going to threaten Jermyn Street fashion dominance anytime soon, either, but they were as sure-footed and quiet as sneakers. Comfortable, too.

At the end of the alley, I stopped to look and listen—all quiet—then crept over to the rear of the building. I put one end of the bar in one of the expansion gaps in the path, then quietly placed the other at about waist level on the nonhinged side of the emergency door. I played with the angle, up and down, left and right, until the fit was snug, then repeatedly shoved down on the bar until it was wedged as tightly as possible into place. I tried to pull it out, but it wouldn't budge. Okay. I headed back to my position.

“The emergency exit off the main room is jammed,” I said into the transmitter. “So now it's up to you. I'm waiting for your signal. Clear your throat if you copy and I'll stand by.”

D
ELILAH SAT WITH BIG LIU
, Kuro, and Yamaoto as a quick succession of waitresses brought them hot wash towels, a variety of snacks Delilah didn't recognize, and a bottle of Taittinger champagne. Kuro spoke with the waitresses in Japanese. Delilah pretended to understand the men's English only slightly better.

“Well,” Big Liu asked as a waitress poured their champagne, “what do you think of Whispers?”

“Whispering?” Delilah asked, with a confused smile. If she played it right, they would think her not only English-incapable, but a bit dim, as well, and it was always good to be underestimated by the people you were manipulating.

“The club,” Big Liu responded, gesturing to their surroundings and smiling indulgently.

“Ah, of course! The club…very beautiful, yes.”

The waitress placed the champagne bottle in a silver ice bucket on the table, bowed, and moved off. Yamaoto raised his glass and said, “Well. To good business.”

They all touched glasses and drank.

She heard Rain in her ear, telling her the door was jammed now, that she should clear her throat if she heard him. She did so.

She glanced around the room. Their toast and apparent bonhomie seemed not to have relaxed the nearby bodyguards, who still looked as though they were on a hair trigger. Rain wanted her to proceed right away, but she thought that, with the way the bodyguards were wired, if the lights went out now they might spring into some kind of action. It would be better if a little time passed and they settled down before something out of the ordinary occurred. She decided to wait just a little. When the atmosphere was more relaxed, she would excuse herself to use the restroom, give Rain the word that she was on the way, and let him in when his man cut the power.

For a few minutes, the men, led by Big Liu, tried to engage her in some polite conversation about how she liked Tokyo, but in short order tired of her struggles with English. They began talking among themselves, their references to business matters initially guarded, but then increasingly transparent as they drank more champagne and became accustomed to talking in front of her. She wasn't surprised. It wasn't as though she could understand, anyway.

At one point Rain, obviously concerned about why she hadn't yet given him a go sign, asked her to say something or at least clear her throat if she was all right. His timing was good—Big Liu had just drained his glass. She said, “More champagne?” and gave everyone a refill. Rain said all right, he wouldn't bother her, but let's finish this soon.

“As I mentioned on the phone,” Yamaoto was saying, “I'm convinced that my men were blameless. But certainly someone betrayed us, someone who knew where and when the transaction was to occur and what it was to consist of. We need to list the people on both sides who had access to that information and start there.”

Delilah glanced at Kuro. The man's face seemed a bit too set to her. Maybe his English was limited, and he was uncomfortable not being able to participate.

“Don't know all details,” Big Liu said. He leaned forward and began chopping the air to emphasize his sentences. “But having man make list. Then ask people on list. Ask hard.”

Yamaoto nodded. “And I'll do the same.” He turned and spoke in Japanese to Kuro, whose sole response consisted of the word
hai,
repeated crisply several times and always accompanied by a stiff bow of the head.

“One other thing I meant to mention,” Yamaoto said. “Your man Chan in New York. He hasn't checked in with me in over a week. We had this problem once before and you told me it wouldn't happen again. I'm afraid he's now disrespecting both of us.”

Delilah thought,
Ah, merde.
Rain had briefed her on all this on the way from the airport. It wasn't going to be helpful for Yamaoto and Big Liu to discuss it now.

“Mmm, Chan,” Big Liu said. “Have…problem there. Have to replace.”

“I'm sorry?” Yamaoto said with a frown.

“Chan have bad blood with soldier Wong. Wong hothead. Kill Chan, then disappear.”

Yamaoto's frown deepened. “When did this happen?”

“Happen one week ago. Big Liu men look for Wong now. Find Wong, he very sorry.”

“You've found Wong or you're looking for him?”

“No find,” Big Liu said, chopping the air again. “Look. Try to find. Will find. But…Wong was man watching woman for Yamaoto. So no report now. Need good replacement.”

“Wait just a moment,” Yamaoto said, leaning forward. “Are you saying the man who was watching Kawamura Midori disappeared a week ago, after killing his own boss?”

Yamaoto was becoming increasingly direct, even aggressive, in his tone and posture, and Delilah realized she was seeing some sort of default persona come to the surface. It was considerably less polished than the one he'd been displaying until now.

Big Liu nodded. “Wong bad man. Unreliable.”

Yamaoto shook his head as though he couldn't believe it. “Killed him how? How do you know?”

“Kill with knife. Find Chan, he very stabbed.”

“Why didn't you tell me this before?”

“Big Liu…embarrass by unreliable man. Find replacement first, then tell Yamaoto, better I think.”

“Yes, but don't you see? Chan was killed and Wong ‘disappeared' just before the ambush in Wajima! You think that's a coincidence?”

Merde,
Delilah thought again. She should have left earlier. And getting up now, in the midst of Yamaoto's agitation, might precipitate a connection in his mind that she needed to avoid. She would have to ride this out.

Big Liu looked at Kuro, plainly at a loss. Kuro started to translate, but Yamaoto cut him off.

“My men told me they were ambushed by two men at Wajima. Right after your problem in New York. I don't believe in coincidences. This is the work of John Rain. The man you were supposed to be watching for.”

At the mention of his name, Delilah realized that everything Rain had hoped to accomplish was about to fall apart. Yamaoto had just infected Big Liu with suspicion. For the moment, Big Liu seemed disinclined to agree with Yamaoto's theory, but if Yamaoto died this very night, Big Liu's views would surely change. He would realize that Rain had killed no fewer than five of Liu's people. And his men had been watching Midori in New York. They knew where she, and the child, lived. They could get to them, either as retribution or to bring Rain out in the open, it didn't matter.

There was only one way to prevent that. None of the three men could leave here tonight. She had to tell Rain and Dox, but couldn't until she could excuse herself.

Big Liu was frowning, either at Yamaoto's tone or because he didn't understand, Delilah wasn't sure. Yamaoto barked a few curt words in Japanese to Kuro, who translated.

The men were focused on each other now. They seemed to have forgotten her entirely. But she was aware of exactly how that could change. And how quickly.

Big Liu was quiet for a moment, then said, “New York and Wajima…far apart. Seem…”

“They're not far apart at all. Rain must have gone to New York to see the woman and the child, as we had hoped. He spotted your surveillance and eliminated it, either by accident or design. And then Wajima…”

He paused there, then sat back in his chair and was quiet, his head tilted forward, his hand rubbing his chin. Delilah knew he was just a thought or two short of a dangerous epiphany. He would either hit it, or skip right over it, she judged it fifty-fifty.

“You see,” he said, to no one in particular, “Rain must have had access to someone who had information about Wajima. And…” He looked at Delilah, as though noticing her for the first time. “There are people who knew about Wajima who also know about this very meeting. Tonight.”

Big Liu started to say something, but Yamaoto stopped him with a raised hand and continued looking at Delilah.

“You came to the club just last night, is that right…Laure? And tonight you came back to interview with Mr. Kuro, yes?”

She knew he knew, or almost knew. But she gave no sign of it. She thought,
It's hot in here,
but wanted to be sure before she said it.

“That's really a remarkable coincidence,” he went on, with a chilling smile.

The extra comment suggested to Delilah that he wasn't quite certain of himself. He was probing, trying to get her to react and confirm his suspicions. She sensed she could bluff her way through.

She smiled and dipped her head as though pausing to digest his words, then said, as though her substandard English hadn't been adequate to the task, “Thank you. It's very nice to be here.”

Yamaoto nodded and started to turn back to Big Liu. Then, without warning, he lunged across the table and grabbed the front of her dress. He yanked it hard toward him and the straps gave way, exposing her breasts and belly. Delilah, not expecting the move, gasped. Before she could react, Yamaoto had grabbed her hair and slammed her face into the table. She saw a flash of white light, then felt Yamaoto's fingers digging into her ears. She twisted her head and jerked back, but too late. Yamaoto pulled out the earpiece and shoved her away from him.

“What the hell?” Big Liu shouted. “What the hell?”

Yamaoto held the earpiece up so Big Liu could see it. “She's wired!” he said.

The bodyguards had all come to their feet and were looking around wildly for the source of the threat. Their hands were inside their jackets, on the verge of bringing out hardware.

Delilah swept the front of her dress back up and held it against herself. A natural enough reaction, under the circumstances, but she wasn't thinking about her exposed body. The microphone was attached to the halter top, and it wasn't going to pick anything up if it wasn't close to her mouth.

“It's hot in here,” she said.

D
ELILAH HAD BEEN
in there for almost a half hour, and I was getting antsy. I could hear her talking periodically, and from what I could tell she was still at the table. She must have had a good reason for the delay, but I couldn't imagine what it was. The generator was out, she knew exactly where Yamaoto was, all she had to do was get up and give me the word and we could finish this damn thing.

Several times, I considered pushing her, but always decided against it. I didn't want to distract her, for one thing. She had a lot on her hands and needed to focus, to stay in the role. Also, she had a tendency to get prickly when she thought I was telling her how to do her job, and, although I wouldn't have admitted it, Dox's comments about “micromanagement” had stung a little. Anyway, there was nothing I could tell her that she didn't already know.

I cracked my neck and bounced on my toes to stay limber. I'd been out here longer than I'd first expected, and it was cold.

In my ear Delilah said, “It's hot in here.”

My heart froze. I felt blood draining away from the skin on my face and hands.

“Fuck!” I said. “I'm on my way.” I sprinted along the west side of the building, the night-vision goggles dancing around my neck.

Dox said, “I'm coming, too.”

“No, stay put! Cover me at the entrance. I'm going in the front.”

“But…”

“Don't argue with me—just do it!”

There was no time to think, but I was aware on some level of just how much danger she must have been in to call for help. Danger I had put her in. And the comforting, back-of-my-mind notion I'd been carrying around, that at least if I died here it would end the threat to Midori and my son, was useless now. Killing myself in front of Yamaoto would do nothing to save Delilah.

I cut right onto the street that led to the front path. The two valets were standing there as Delilah had described in her briefing, watching me approach.

“Drop the valets,” I said. “Now.”

If there had been another way, I would have used it. But I wasn't going to waste one second getting to Delilah. And I couldn't take a chance on these two using their lapel transmitters to warn anyone of what was coming.

The near valet's head erupted and he slid to the ground. The other guy didn't even have time to register surprise before he was down, too.

I pulled out the Benchmade Dox had given me and thumbed it open without slowing down at all. I leaned over one of the bodies, cut the cord around his neck, and took his magnetic keycard.

I put the knife back in my pocket. My mind was screaming for me to get inside, but I needed just one more second. My hand shaking, I pulled out my cell phone and hit the speed dial I had created for Tatsu's man in the substation.

He answered on the first ring.
“Hai.”

“You ready to cut the power?” I asked, in Japanese.

“Yes, I'm ready.”

“Do it exactly thirty seconds from now. Got it?”

“I'm looking at my watch,” he said. “Twenty-nine, twenty-eight…”

I closed the phone and dropped it back in my pocket. I took two deep breaths, in and out, in and out, and moved up the path toward the front entrance.