The Last Assassin (29 page)

A
N HOUR LATER
, I was positioned in one of the stairwells on the surgical ward of Jikei hospital, one floor above Yamaoto. I was wearing standard-issue hospital scrubs. Nonstandard was the HK, in a hip holster underneath. But the gun was only backup and I didn't expect I'd have to use it. My primary weapon consisted of two syringes in the paper bag I was carrying. The first was filled with one hundred milliequivalents of potassium chloride. The second contained an equal amount of ordinary saline.

Saline is procurable anywhere, but unless you have access to appropriate raw materials and equipment, potassium chloride requires a prescription. Fortunately, despite his illness, Tatsu retained his knack for acquiring prohibited items. I had stopped by his room just a few minutes earlier and, as promised, he had what I'd asked for. He'd been pleased when I explained what I was going to do.

“Will it cause him to suffer?” he asked.

“No,” I told him, sorry to disappoint. “It's the same stuff they use in lethal injections. It'll cause an instantaneous heart attack. You want suffering, we need more time.”

He nodded.

“I'll just shoot him if I have to,” I added. “Or break his neck. But a potassium chloride injection is hard to detect. The cells release potassium naturally when they break down postmortem. And I think right now natural is better for us. It'll obscure the involvement of your men, my involvement, everything.”

He raised his eyebrows and said, deadpan, “If I didn't know better, I'd suspect you'd done this before.”

“I'm just a quick study.”

He gave me a wan smile. “Go. Let's finish this.”

And now I was waiting for his all-clear signal, telling me his men had hauled away Yamaoto's yakuza guards. I'd said nothing to Dox and Delilah. I could do this alone.

My cell phone buzzed. It was Tatsu.

“Go,” he said, his voice weak but eager. “They're all cuffed and on the way down in the elevator. I've got two other men interviewing the nurses, away from their station, around the corner from Yamaoto's room. You'll only have a minute. Hurry.”

I was already heading down the stairs. “I'm on my way,” I said, and clicked off. I pocketed the phone and pulled on a pair of surgical gloves and a surgical mask.

When I reached the landing of Yamaoto's floor, I paused and took a quick peek through the door. All clear, as Tatsu had promised.

I moved out and walked briskly down the corridor. Room 203, Tatsu had told me. And there it was. The door was ajar. I glanced inside. Again, all clear.

I walked in and closed the door behind me. Yamaoto was propped up in bed. He was pale and his eyelids were fluttering. His torso was bandaged from surgery and his chest sprouted two tubes that I imagined were there to keep his lungs expanded. A central IV line ran into his neck, feeding antibiotics and probably morphine directly into his jugular.

I walked to the side of the bed. Just to be safe, I moved the call button out of his reach. Then I took the potassium chloride syringe out of the bag and popped off the safety cap.

Yamaoto's eyes fluttered open. He looked at me, but said nothing. Probably he didn't recognize me behind the surgical mask. Or he was too doped up to even know what was going on. Didn't matter.

I increased the flow rate in his IV line and watched as a steady stream of fluid fell in the drip chamber. I glanced at his arm, then back at the chamber—the stream was moving nicely. Good. I kinked off the distal lines running into the central IV. I didn't want any of the potassium chloride to back up. Better to have it go straight to his heart as a single bolus.

I inserted the syringe into a port on the IV line.

Yamaoto smiled. “It's not over,” he mumbled.

I looked into his eyes, pleased that he was conscious and understood who I was. “No, it's over,” I said. “It's been over since you killed my friend Harry. You just didn't get the memo. Well, here it is.”

I shoved the plunger down on the syringe, sending the potassium chloride rocketing toward his heart. Then I took out the saline syringe and repeated the procedure, flushing the dose forward even faster.

Yamaoto watched me. His smile didn't waver. I dropped the second syringe in the paper bag along with the first and looked up at the EKG monitor.

Within seconds, the pointy spikes that represented the proper functioning of his heart had abruptly been replaced by long, curvy sine waves. The potassium chloride had destroyed the muscle's electrical system and it was no longer contracting.

I looked at him. “What was it you were saying?” I said. “About this not being over?”

But his eyes had already lost focus. Now they rolled upward, his smile fading with them. His mouth went slack and his head sagged to the side.

I heard an alarm sounding at the nurses' station, warning them that one of their patients was having a cardiac arrest. I returned the IV to its previous condition, moved to the door, and looked out into the corridor. Still all clear. I walked quickly back to the stairwell and paused there on the landing, watching the corridor through a crack in the door. It remained empty.

One of the nurses came running now, checking her monitors to see where the problem was located. She picked up a phone to call in the code, but it was already too late. No matter how fast a team moved, they'd have to know to use a huge dose of antidote to reverse the effects of the elephantine bolus I'd employed. And every second that passed before then brought Yamaoto closer to irreversible brain damage at a minimum, more likely closer to death.

I let the door close behind me and continued down to the lobby level. Yamaoto was finished. But there was still Kuro.

I
WENT BACK TO
Tatsu's room. When he saw me, he raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“It's done,” I said, pulling up a chair next to his bed.

He took my hand and squeezed it. “Thank you,” he rasped. “Thank you.”

“There's one thing though. It might be nothing, but…”

“What?”

“Before he lost consciousness, he said to me, ‘It's not over.' Maybe it was just bluster, but…Kuro's still missing. And Yamaoto told him at the club that I've been behind everything since New York.”

“I told you, you don't have to worry about Kuro.”

“Why not?”

“First, because Yamaoto's grudge against you was just that, a grudge. It doesn't extend to other members of his organization. Without him there to give orders, no one has any interest or incentive to try to harm you. Or your family.”

I nodded, not totally convinced. “Is there a second reason?”

“Yes. Kuro is my informant.”

I looked at him, and felt a smile spreading across my face. “Son of a bitch. No wonder your information's been so good.”

“Kuro was very unhappy with me after what happened at Wajima. He thought Yamaoto would find out where the leak had come from and kill him for it. And he was nearly apoplectic after the shootout at his club. But I expect he'll be mollified now. No one is better positioned than he to take over Yamaoto's operations.”

“His colleagues aren't going to suspect he was behind all this?”

“They might. That fear has always inhibited him from moving against Yamaoto previously, despite my strong encouragement. That, and of course his fear about the consequences if a move against Yamaoto failed. But now we've given him a fait accompli. What else can he do but move aggressively to consolidate power?”

“What about the Chinese?”

“Kuro was always Yamaoto's conduit to the Chinese. If he doesn't tell them you were behind this, they'll have no reason to know. And even if he did tell them, would they believe it? More likely they would think you're a bogeyman he was making up to divert attention from yakuza responsibility for the massacres at Wajima and Whispers. No, I suspect Kuro will find a way to end this war simply by putting as much blame as possible on Yamaoto.”

I nodded, thinking about it. It sounded reasonable. But I expected it would be a while before it completely sank in.

“You see?” he asked. “You can go to Midori and your son now. There's nothing stopping you.”

“I might do that,” I said. But the truth was, at that moment Midori and Koichiro felt farther away than ever.

“Just be sure to stop by before you leave town. I'd hate to miss you.”

“I'm not going anywhere right away. I'd like to spend some time with you, if that's okay.”

He squeezed my hand. “It's fine. And I can promise not to keep you long.”

I shook my head. “Come on, stop that.”

He shook his head. “I have to. I wouldn't have known it, but this is the way I cope. And you have to admit, it's more becoming than self-pity.”

“Mildly,” I said, provoking a short laugh that degenerated into a cough. I got him his water and he sipped it through the straw.

My cell phone buzzed. I looked down and saw a 212 area code. It took me a second to recognize it and realize who it was.

“It's Midori,” I said, standing up.

He smiled. “Perhaps this is fate.”

I walked over to the window and flipped open the phone. My heart was beating hard.

“Hi,” I said.

“Jun, two men just threatened me outside a club right before a gig. They had pictures of Koichiro and the nanny at a park, our address, my schedule, everything. They said they would hurt us if I didn't tell them where to find you!”

My stomach flipped and I felt like I was going to vomit. I took a deep breath and said, “Slow down. Did they say who they were?”

“No. They were Japanese, yakuza from the way they looked and talked. You fuck, what did you do?”

“Take Koichiro. Right now, take him somewhere no one would know to look for you. Don't use credit cards, don't use your cell phone…”

“I am not going to just pull the two of us out of our life! Because of you!”

“Midori, you have to…”

“No!”

I thought for a moment. “Okay, it's going to be okay. I'm going to come out there, I'm going to take care of this.”

“Don't come out here. Stay the hell away from us!”

“That's not going to solve the problem,” I said, surprised at the calm in my voice. “Let's solve this problem, then you can do anything you want. Did you tell them anything? How to find me?”

“What could I tell them?”

“Okay, I'm going to check on something, then I'm going to call you back in fifteen minutes.”

I clicked off without even waiting for an answer. Tatsu was already pale from what he'd overheard. When I told him what had happened, he went white.

“What the fuck is going on?” I said. “You just told me…”

“I told you, Kuro isn't in control yet. No one even knows yet that Yamaoto is dead.”

“Yeah, but when could Yamaoto have…”

“Maybe on the way from the club, in the limousine. Before he got to the hospital. Let me check.”

Tatsu picked up his phone and input a number. He asked questions. Listened. Asked more questions. Listened again. He said, “Call them off.” He listened more, then swore and clicked off. He looked at me.

“Yes, it seems Yamaoto made the call on the way to the hospital. He sent two soldiers to New York. To pressure Midori and the child to get to you.”

“And if the pressure doesn't work?”

He didn't answer. He didn't need to. I could see it in his eyes.

“You told Kuro to call them off. What did he say?”

“He can't. The two men Yamaoto sent were his Praetorian guard, his personal killers, loyal only to him. Everyone else Kuro can reach. But these two have no connection to Kuro and won't take orders from him. Not even with Yamaoto dead.”

My stomach heaved again. I breathed in and out, in and out, willing my gorge back down.

I called Midori. “I know what the problem is,” I said. “And I can solve it. I'm on my way to the airport now. I'm going to catch an evening nonstop. I'll be at JFK”—I looked at my watch—“tomorrow evening your time. I'll call you the second I land.”

There was a pause. She said, “I hate you.”

I nodded. “I know.”

I
RACED BACK TO
the hotel to get my passport, calling airlines to check on flights on the way. The next one I could get was a JAL nonstop that left at 7:05 that evening and arrived in New York at five in the evening of the same day. I booked a seat.

I checked out of the hotel and returned the van before catching a train to the airport. I could have asked Dox to take care of it for me, but I felt like if I didn't have a task I might explode.

On the way to the airport, my phone buzzed twice—once Dox, once Delilah. I didn't answer.

I thought about how I would find the two goons who had threatened Midori. I didn't expect it to be difficult. They'd be watching her now, waiting for me to show up. And I would show up. Just not where, when, or how they were expecting.

But then something I'd understood since the moment Midori called finally spoke up in conscious terms. It had been right there, in those three simple words:
I hate you.
But I hadn't wanted to acknowledge it.

No matter how this turned out, Midori would never again indulge my protestations about how I could get out of the life. That part was over. The best I could hope for now was merely to restore the way things had been before. Everything else I'd fought for, everything else I'd wanted, had just been snatched away.

I had no appetite, but I stopped at a noodle place in the airport departure lounge and forced myself to eat. My body wanted to break into a sprint, but it was still way too early in the race for that. I needed to stay calm. Until it was time to not be calm.

When the plane started boarding, I found a quiet corner away from the lines and called Dox. He answered immediately. “Hey, man, where've you been? You get my message?”

“I saw that you called. Sorry I wasn't able to get back to you until now.”

“Everything all right?”

“Yamaoto's dead. Heart attack in the hospital earlier today.”

There was a pause. Dox said, “I knew you were going to go off and do something by yourself. Son, you're incorrigible. But nice work, and congratulations.”

“Yeah.”

“You should have called me, though.”

“I'm sorry. I can't put you at any more risk than I already have.”

“What are you talking about, ‘risk'? We're partners, remember?”

“Listen. I can't talk long. My plane's about to leave for New York.”

“New York? What's going on?”

I told him about the call from Midori.

“Goddamnit, man, you didn't call me about this? I'm coming to the airport right now.”

“The plane's leaving now. You won't be able to make it. Even if you came, by the time you got here it would already be done. One way or the other.”

“Goddamnit, John, you're being stupid! You've got friends, man, people who want to help you.”

“I don't need your help.”

“The hell you don't. You're not thinking clearly, it's obvious. Wait, hold on, I'm here having coffee with Delilah, she wants to talk to you.”

There was a pause, then Delilah said, “John, what's going on?”

I told her about the call from Midori.

“Oh God,” she said. “Why didn't you call us?”

The boarding line was getting smaller. “It's not your fight,” I said.

“Yes, it is.”

I didn't respond. What was the point?
No, it isn't; yes, it is?

“Dox told me why you didn't go after Yamaoto when he ran out of the club,” she said. “You went back for me.”

Again I didn't respond. What happened at the club was already irrelevant.

“John, let us help you. Please.”

“Look, I appreciate it, I really do. But I have to go.”

“You set it up this way. You waited to call until it was too late. What, were you afraid we would persuade you to let us help?”

An announcement blared—last call for my flight. I said, “My plane is leaving.”

“Wait. There's something I want to tell you about New York…” she started to say.

“Not now. We'll have another chance.”

“But…”

“I promise,” I said, and shut down the phone.