Travis Justice (20 page)

What the hell?
John wondered. He counted. Must be twenty of them. At least. They seemed very eager to be taken into custody, moving as one toward the left entrance, in a way that made John suspicious.

Like they wanted to escape the cavern....

* * *

Inside the ring, Hana raised the blade, gripping it with both hands in the classic samurai pose: arms bent, knees slightly flexed, preparing to strike.

Kai moved fluidly despite a slight limp, and faked a right-hand downward diagonal, spinning at the last minute on his good foot to morph into a side strike toward her rib cage.

This time, Hana read him and leaped sideways, at the same time striking back underhanded to catch his blade and force it upward. The two blades rang loudly in the cavern, but Kai's vibrated slightly. Hana's held true. Before he had time to recover, she used her blocking momentum to continue in the same direction with a strike at his nearest appendage—his leg, extended in his lunge. He moved to block her strike, but a split-second too late. She felt the Nakatomi blade penetrate the meat of his thigh before he stumbled out of range.

He faltered, blood oozing, shiny but still dark, on the nylon of his tight pants. He backed away another step, limping on his bad foot.

Hana looked down and saw that his foot had opened too, and he was leaving bloody footprints with every step. The blade drooped slightly in her slack grip. “Stop, Kai. This is enough. They're coming. Give yourself up. If you do, I promise I'll bring Takeo to see you in prison.”

Immediately, his own slightly lowered blade raised to strike. She should have known better than to tell him that, but there was no time to say anything more.

Only then did she realize how he'd been holding back. Wounded, bleeding from two spots, he weaved a wall of impregnable steel with his inferior blade. She backed up, studying his timing. She didn't dare look away, even for an instant, but she thought she heard sounds down the corridor.

She moved left, right, blocking his furious blows at her side and even one upward diagonal that would have cleaved her in two. The Nakatomi blade sang as its tensile strength caught and deflected the force of his two-handed blows. Still, while the steel rang true, only by backing up each time could she fully fend off the strikes by lengthening his range.

Then she was against the ropes. She had no more room to move.

Even Kai was gasping now. Only she heard his puff of venom, “If I die, you die . . .”

He'd heard the men arriving too.

She lifted the blade just in time to block his full body blow aimed at her midsection. His own steel glanced off hers, and his blade bounced away, cutting into her sleeve as it went.

Vaguely, Hana sensed frantic activity all around, but she had no time for anything but to stare at the twisted, perspiring face of her son's father. She sensed the Rangers had the upper hand even though she didn't dare peek, but one look in Kai's dead, dark eyes and she knew.

Just as she'd predicted, either he died or she died.

There was no compromise.

Regrouping the last of her energy, Hana, for the first time in her life, used one of Kai's underhanded tricks. As he gripped his hilt more tightly, raising his sword for a final head strike—arms bent, blade lifted high—she brought her own booted heel down, hard, on his wounded foot, which he'd had to brace to gain power for the blow.

His elbows lost some of their strength as he stumbled slightly. The blade fell toward her.

Smoothly, she used the movement she'd made to stomp his foot to gather all the power in her body in the upward right diagonal, her strongest stroke. Leaning slightly toward her and off balance, Kai still tried to block, but her powerful steel glanced off his sword and struck true. The Nakatomi katana, like the five-body blade it was, cleaved Kai from his hip in one stroke, diagonally upward through gristle, muscle and bone, excising organs and intestines as it sliced. Her perfect cut exited at the clavicle on the opposite side of his body. His blade fell to the mat.

A strange look of shock on his face, he fell apart before her eyes, the upper left part of his body moving in one direction, the right half going the opposite way in a greasy slither. He was dead before he hit the ground. In pieces. Quite literally. Blood jetted in a growing pool, forcing Hana to jump back to avoid it.

She fell to one knee, panting so hard she had to lean on the blade to help support herself or fall into the red mess oozing into the mat. Then Zach was there, using antiseptic wipes at her cheek and arm. It stung, but revived her enough to smile at him.

A bright smile showed her white teeth. “You saved my life by getting me the blade. And you stabbed Kai too? Didn't you? In the foot?”

Zach only nodded.

Finally, still panting, she looked around. To her shock, she was stared at from every quarter. All types of law-enforcement personnel gawked at her: deputies, SWAT, Texas Rangers. She was puzzled why they looked at her so strangely. But equally odd, she didn't see any of Kai's men. She hadn't heard a single shot . . .

Her gaze found John Travis. He stood, one foot propped behind him on the cave wall, and she got the feeling he'd been watching her battle Kai for some time. He was too far away for her to clearly see his expression, but she knew from his body language that he was moved, somehow. His motions seemed a bit sluggish and he finally pushed himself away from the wall and started rounding up his men and waving them toward the cave exit down the tunnel.

Then she surged to her feet. “My God! The bomb.” She looked at her watch, but it had fallen off during the sword fight. She knew they couldn't have more than a couple of minutes.

Zach said, “I know. They tried to disable it, but none of us are bomb experts. Kai's men all bailed when they realized Kai was going to let them die. They unplugged the damn thing, but it had some kind of wireless backup and came back online. We gotta get the hell out of here. We only have two minutes or so.”

Hana bit her lip, looking down at what remained of Takeo's father.

Pulling her away, Zach growled, “Leave the bastard. He'll be buried, all right. By his own hand. What's more appropriate than that?”

Zach was helping her out of the ring when the backup lights went out. Then they heard another generator kick in. In a split second, it went out too. Someone yelled from the direction of the clean room, “The counter's gone dark! The bomb's disabled!”

Then a voice came over the intercom. A blessedly familiar voice that said, sounding uncannily like David Bowie: “Rangers, deputies, and Nakatomi: This is Major Tom to ground control. It's safe to leave the capsule. All systems compromised. No bombs for you today, Kai the Magnificent.” Then Ernie's voice took on its normal tone. “I hope you guys brought lots of flashlights.”

And in the dark, an exhausted Hana took full advantage. To rest, to live. To love. Why else had she fought so hard?

Grabbing Zach's hand, she pulled him into her arms. She groped for his head to cup it in her palms. She felt his own lumps, and then she was kissing him, for she knew without him she wouldn't be here.

Somewhere, God really can open a window.

And in that moment, the last of the shutters dropped away from her heart. For she knew that Zach could have killed Kai from a distance if he'd chosen to.

But he'd let her fight her own battles, understanding, finally, that she not only had that right, but the obligation.

And that, to Hana Nakatomi, was true love.

* * *

In the aftermath, after they recovered over ten million in cash, arrested fifty people, and confiscated all of Kai's assets, destroying many kilos of various designer drugs. The operation was deemed one of the most successful ever undertaken in central Texas against the drug trade.

After their initial conflict, Takeo and Abigail Doyle became fast friends. Abby had helped foil the men who surrounded their armored car in an attempt to take back Takeo. She coolly provided cover while the young tech guy took advantage of their armor and puncture-proof tires to simply drive away from the rain of bullets.

By the time they returned some time later, John's Rangers had rounded up the last of Kai's men, including the would-be kidnappers.

The bomb was carefully disabled by the bomb squad, and the last of the cavern's contents, including Kai's remains, were cleared away. He was buried in an unmarked grave. Only Hana, Takeo, and Ernie, along with Zach and John Travis, were in attendance at the brief service. Takeo put flowers on his father's grave, clutching his mother's hand tightly.

Jiji's funeral was small too, but with joy the order of the day, instead of sorrow.

Ernie had explained things to the boy. Takeo was very young, but he'd been tutored in life by Jiji literally since he could talk. He understood that his father was a bad man and wanted to kill his mother, so his mother had been forced to defend herself. Nevertheless, John arranged family counseling for both of them.

Abigail came around to Hana's new home regularly. Ernie had been released from his immunity agreement with full pardons for all offenses, current and past. He'd started calling Abigail on various pretenses. She tried to avoid him when she could for the simple reason that he unnerved her. She'd never known a man like him, as she confided to Hana and Mary.

Best of all, to Zach at least, John had agreed to let Hana and Takeo move in to their huge family mansion.

He'd been reluctant at first. During the delicious meal Consuela cooked for all the family after the funerals, Zach had whispered something to his father. John had looked at Hana and Takeo, then away.

Hana knew what they were discussing. Zach was aware she and Takeo had nowhere to go but Ernie's. Her former sensei had offered to take them in, but he was a bachelor, with a bachelor's lifestyle. So Zach asked his father to let them stay and informed him he and Hana were engaged.

Despite the engagement, John remained reluctant about the arrangement. His reaction put a pall over the entire meal. Hana stood and reached out to take Takeo away, but Mary Travis threw her napkin down on the table and straightened to her full height.

She looked down at her husband. “John William Barrett Travis, I seldom ask you for anything. And demand less. Today I'm not asking. They're both staying. It's my house too.”

When John's face set into lines that put Mount Rushmore to shame, Mary's expression turned so severe that, for the first time, she showed her age. “Unless, of course, you'd rather I petition to make it only my house. In court.”

John's mouth dropped open.

Zach too was stunned. His staying grip on Hana's hand went slack.

Hana glanced between John and Mary, seeing the power dynamic and wondering if she was interpreting it correctly. Had Mrs. Travis just threatened divorce?

Mary didn't even glance their way. Her steady blue gaze held her husband's. She didn't bother lowering her voice, either, as if she wanted both Zach and Hana to hear her next comments. “Look at him, John. Really look at him. He loves her. For the first time in his life he's found a girl he can be happy with. And he's not an easy match. Will you deny him that? And put her and her child in danger?”

Zach grabbed Hana's hand again strongly and pulled her to stand next to his mother.

Mary put her arm around Hana. “Besides, we have a wedding to plan.” She enfolded Takeo too into their embrace. He wasn't particularly appreciative, however, and soon scampered away to pet one of the Belgian
Malinois
still on duty outside.

Then Zach moved to stand next to his father, extending his arm toward both women, as if to a vista. “Don't you see it, Dad?”

John was clueless. At first. Closing his open mouth, he gulped. “See what?”

“They're a lot alike. Other than their coloring.”

Silhouetted by the commodious hall and creamy walls, black and white marble at their feet, the two women were both tall, slim, and regal. Even their bone structure, fine noses, high cheekbones and perfect mouths, were similar. But it was the steady character, strength allied with the clarity of logic and compassion, in their eyes of blue and black that really defined them as soul sisters.

It was as if blinkers came off John's eyes. “Holy shit . . . I never, that is, I didn't know—”

Despite being so moved that her heart was thrumming, Hana had to smile. “I'm not just a perp anymore?”

And John Travis sighed heavily. “You might as well stay, then. Now, follow me. I'm not as stupid as I sometimes seem. I knew this was coming.” He beckoned and they all followed him into the study.

Inside a long display case with discreet lighting and temperature control, lay the Nakatoni katana. Except it was no longer denoted as
Attributed to Masamune, believed to be the Nakatomi family katana
. Now the label read
On loan from owners Hana and Takeo Nakatomi.

Hana's eyes filled with tears as she looked at her future father-in-law.

“When you're ready, we'll change the name to Nakatomi-Travis. You don't mind loaning it to the museum once in a while, do you?

Her voice thick with tears, she teased, “Why not Travis-Nakatomi?”

Zach laughed as his father's face turned red.

Hana kissed John's cheek. Realizing she'd been teasing him, he patted her hand.

Mary laughed too, then caught her husband's arm and dragged him from the study. As the door slowly closed, they heard her teasing, “Did it make your joints flare up to write such a big check, darling?” And then sounds of kissing, interspersed with Mary's, “I love you, you old softie.”