Of course he’d take that moment to open the closet door, just as her face was flushed and her body tingling. Fortunately he was too intent on getting out of there to notice.
“Don’t say anything, don’t move unless I tell you to,” he said in a low voice. “If you do, you’ll get us both killed.”
She wasn’t about to come up with an argument. While the hallway was marginally lighter than the pitch-black closet, it was still almost impenetrable, and the only safety was the man in front of her, leading the way.
They passed one man on their trip through the maze of underground tunnels, and Reno moved so fast he was simply a blur in the darkness, and the man collapsed, unconscious, as Reno took her hand, pulling her deeper into the bowels of the building.
At first she didn’t realize when they emerged into the evening air—the cold that penetrated the old cement building was the same inside as out, and night had fallen. To her amazement they were outside the high walls of the cement-block compound that housed Ojiisan’s headquarters, on a dark and deserted side street. “Now’s the time to run, Jilly,” Reno said, and took off, dragging her along behind him.
It was a good thing she had long legs—if she’d been short, she never would have kept up with him, and chances were he’d either abandon her and drag her limp body in the dirt if she fell. She was in decent shape—she ran three times a week and didn’t smoke, but she wasn’t used to a flat-out sprint, and her chest was burning, her heart banging against her rib cage. Reno, goddamn him, seemed barely touched by the fast pace. He was probably running fast so she couldn’t argue with him.
It didn’t matter—there was no way she was going to fall behind or complain. If he could do it, then so could she. And the faster she ran, the more the scene retreated, the dead man, all the dead men that she’d seen in the past few days.
And then, just as suddenly, he stopped, catching her as she hurtled forward, pushing back against a building and holding her there while she struggled to catch her breath.
He wasn’t even winded. “We’ll get a taxi from here,” he said. “As soon as you stop sounding like an eighty-year-old man.”
“Go…to…hell,” she gasped, struggling for breath. They were on a side street, but the street-lights were on, and neon beckoned from around the corner. He just stood there, waiting while she brought her breathing under control. She shoved her sweat-damp hair away from her face with a shaking hand—at this rate she was going to get pneumonia and she didn’t care. She just wanted this all to end.
A moment later he took her hand, pulled her arm through his in a perfect parody of young lovers, and walked her into the neon, into the crowded streets of Tokyo.
It wasn’t until he’d gotten her ensconced in the backseat of a taxi that she noticed he’d covered his distinctive hair with a black kerchief emblazoned with kanji, and he’d tucked his bright red braid beneath the leather jacket. Except for his height, he could be any Tokyo hipster in shades, but there was no disguising Jilly. There weren’t that many almost six feet tall gaijin women around, and there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it.
She waited until Reno gave instructions, so detailed she couldn’t follow, and then she spoke.
“What next?” Her voice was hoarse from running.
He didn’t bother to look at her—he was busy watching out the back, probably looking for signs of pursuit. “Train station,” he said. “We’re taking the train to Osaka and I’m putting you on a plane at Kansai Airport.” He glanced at her then, just briefly. “You’ll be safe enough.”
“Why don’t you just let me go on my own? You don’t need to take the train—we’re probably better off separated.”
“You’ll stand out wherever you are in Japan, and it won’t take them long to find you,” Reno said in a flat voice. “You saw something you weren’t supposed to see, and they don’t want you to have a chance to tell anyone.”
She wanted to argue with his reasoning, but she couldn’t. Instead she tried another tack. “Who are ‘they’? And tell them what? What the hell is going on?” she demanded.
“If I knew, I’d probably tell you,” he said, not the most comforting words she could have heard. “The Russians who were after you were simply trying to lure Taka out of hiding, but someone was telling them where we were going. If I’d realized how complicated things were, I would have stashed you somewhere while I warned my grandfather, but there aren’t that many safe places out of reach of my grandfather’s men. I should have known you’d get in trouble wherever I took you.”
“It’s not my fault someone was murdered,” she shot back.
“It was your fault you were wandering around places you shouldn’t have been. Why didn’t you just stay in your room?”
“And then what? You would have gone off and your grandfather would have sent me back home and we all would have lived happily ever after? Except for the dead man.”
He sighed. “Just do what I tell you from now on. Something is going on with my grandfather’s family, and Hitomi-san is part of it. I tried to warn Ojiisan, but he simply told me not to worry, that he had it all under control. Right now there’s nothing I can do to help him. I have to take care of you.”
He sounded as disgruntled as she felt. “No, you don’t,” she said. “I can take care of myself.”
His derisive laugh was annoying enough that she was tempted to kick him, but she’d seen enough violence in the past two days to last her her entire life, no matter how obnoxious he was. “You’re as pathetic as a kitten,” he said. “If your family had any sense they wouldn’t let you out without a keeper.”
The taxi was pulling up to a large, Victorian-looking building, and Reno spoke to him so rapidly Jilly could only get a few words. He shoved a fistful of yen into the driver’s requisite white-gloved hand and dragged Jilly out the door.
It must be rush hour, she thought dazedly as he politely pushed his way through waves of people…though almost every hour seemed to be rush hour in Tokyo. “Keep your head down,” he muttered, “and try to slump. We’re trying to blend in here.”
“Fat chance,” she said, slumping anyway. Her streaky blond hair shouldn’t be that much of a giveaway—it seemed like half the younger population had dyed their hair varying shades of blond and orange. Her height and her walk were two things she couldn’t change. She kept her face down, slumped her shoulders and scuttled along behind Reno as best she could. She’d never been able to disappear in a crowd, and in a homogeneous society like Japan she was doomed from the start.
Not that Reno was doing that great a job, either, she thought critically, ducking behind him as he used a ticketing machine. Sunglasses after dark tended to draw attention, as well as his height. But even worse was the way he carried himself. Like a lord of the universe, a prince of fucking darkness. People moved out of his way automatically, and the hidden hair and tattoos were little help. If someone was looking for them, they’d be too damned easy to find.
“Oh, shit.”
Reno whirled around, the tickets in one hand. “What?”
“I think they found us.”
Kobayashi was hard to miss, the crowds parting around him like the Red Sea, and the two men with him, though tiny compared to Kobayashi, looked extremely lethal.
Reno froze. “Listen to me, Jilly, and do absolutely everything I tell you. No deviations, no thinking for yourself. When I give you the word, I want you to run to the left, as fast as you can. Push people over if you need to, just get the fuck out of here. Then get a taxi and have it take you to Narita.”
“I don’t have enough money….”
He shoved a wad of yen in her hand. “Get the first plane out, anywhere. Trust me.”
“I don’t…”
“Now!” he said, and shoved her, so hard she almost fell, as Kobayashi loomed over them, reaching out a meaty arm to grab her.
She spun out of his way, knocking people aside, sprinting through the terminal. She could hear the noise behind her, the sho
uts, but she didn’t stop, she just kept running as the crowd swallowed her up.
There was no mistaking the sign for the ladies’ toilet, and she didn’t even hesitate, running inside as she shoved the wad of yen into her jeans. The room was almost empty—two of the eight stalls were in use, and she ducked inside one, locking it, trying to catch her breath. And then she turned, to look at the ceramic hole in the floor with utter despair. There was no way she could use that while she was wearing jeans. She was just going to have to wait.
Wait to pee. Wait to catch her breath. Wait to see whether they were going to find her in the ladies’ room, whether Reno was now a pulverized spot on the floor of the terminal, whether she was going die in the next few minutes.
One thing was certain. She wasn’t getting a taxi to Narita airport without finding out that Reno was still alive. It was that simple.
And he’d probably kill her when he found out she didn’t go.
Too bad. She’d had enough of running for her life, and she wasn’t running out on Reno, no matter how much he wanted to get rid of her. She was in it for the long haul.
And he was about to find out just how tenacious she could be.
10
Takashi O’Brien had his choice of two options. He could either go back to the tiny island off Hokkaido, find his furious wife and tell her that the one person she loved most in this world, besides him, had been murdered. Or he could find out what the hell had happened to his sister-in-law, and why Reno hadn’t been able to keep her alive.
He was used to lying, used to living in a shadow world. He just wasn’t used to lying to Summer anymore.
Something was up with his great-uncle, as well. Usually he could go to the old man to find out what was happening, but his instincts, which had saved his life countless times, told him to keep away. The office in London didn’t know shit, except that Jilly had been killed, and until he found out who, and why, and how and made them pay, he couldn’t face his wife with the truth.
In the meantime, all he could do was keep his head down, and find the man who should have been trusted to keep her safe. Reno. And then beat the hell out of him.
Jilly waited as long as she possibly could. People came and went, the baby-light voices of young Japanese women filling the tiled room and then leaving it in silence again. There was no sound of chaos from the main part of the terminal—whatever had gone down out there was over and done with. And she couldn’t spend the rest of her life in a Japanese toilet.
She emerged from the stall, cautiously, but the room was finally empty. She was planning to open the main door just a crack, to see whether it looked safe, but just the moment she reached it, it slammed open as a group of chattering women pushed inside. They stopped talking when they saw her, an uneasy silence in the room.
“Sumimasen,” she murmured, slipping past them.
She’d been in the bathroom for at least a couple of hours. Unfortunately it looked as if it wasn’t always rush hour in Tokyo. The main hall of the train station was almost empty, just a few random people at the vending machines.
The first place she looked was where she had last seen Reno, with Kobayashi looming down on him. The center of the hall was empty, and there was no blood on the floor. That proved nothing—the Japanese would clean everything quickly so there’d be no trace to offend the travelers. For all she knew Reno was in pieces somewhere, never to be found again….
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
She couldn’t help it. She flung her arms around him, holding him so tight it was a wonder he could breathe. Oddly enough he didn’t complain, he just stood there, putting up with it.
She finally let go, pulling back. He looked in reasonably good shape—a cut across one cheekbone, just under the teardrops, and he’d lost his sunglasses, but he was in one, glorious, bad-boy piece.
“Never mind,” he said in a resigned voice. “I knew you weren’t going to do what I told you to. Let’s get out of here.”
“We’re going to Osaka?” Her voice sounded husky with unshed tears, and she quickly cleared her throat.
He shook his head. “No. They’ll be watching the trains now. We’re not going anywhere. But you’re going to have to do what I tell you or I’ll tie you up and put you there.”
“Promises, promises,” she said, feeling absurdly lighthearted. It didn’t matter that he was a son of a bitch who found her a royal pain in the ass. He was alive, and she was staying with him. At least for now.
He just looked at her, and then suddenly she thought better of being playful. Better not pull the lion’s tail. Reno was just a little too dangerous, even to her. She needed to remember who he was and what he was capable of.
“Did you kill them?” she said.
Reno didn’t answer at first. “Who do you mean?” he said finally. “Kobayashi and his buddies? No. I just caused enough of a distraction to get the hell out of here. You’re lucky I didn’t trust you, or you’d be stuck here alone.”
“I count my blessings,” she muttered.
“You can count them later. Let’s get out of here before someone else decides to come looking.” He held out his hand, and she took it. Strange, the warmth and strength of it, his long fingers wrapping around hers. He didn’t seem to notice.
He stole another car, of course. This time she watched him do it, aghast at how easy he made it seem, and a few minutes later they were careening through the nighttime traffic at horrifying speeds, and all she could do was hold on, since the seat belt wasn’t working.
“Where are we going?” she managed to ask as he rounded one corner on what seemed like two wheels.
“I’m taking you to a friend’s apartment where you can shower, change your clothes and sleep in a decent bed while I go talk to my grandfather again. He needs to know that Kobayashi is in on it. Maybe this time he won’t treat me like an idiot. Though, knowing my grandfather, I’m not going to hold out hope.”
“And what’s your friend going to think?”
“He won’t be there. It’s the safest place I can think of—the only person who knows of its existence is Taka.” He sped up, narrowly missing a small delivery truck, and took another sharp right. She closed her eyes and prayed, not opening them till he slammed to an abrupt stop.
She staggered out of the car, sank to her knees on the sidewalk and flung her arms out, crying, “Land!”
Reno was not amused, coming up behind her and hauling her up. “I know how to drive.”
“You and Dale Earnhardt.”
“Who’s Dale Earnhardt?”
“Race-car driver. Died in a car crash,” she said. She looked up at the plain, blocklike building. There was a row of narrow balconies along one side, and futons were hanging over many of them.
“I’m going to try to find out where the hell Taka is. Things are in too big a mess right now—I don’t know who can be trusted. As soon as I do, I’ll dump you.”
“Lovely,” she muttered. “And I’ll appreciate being dumped. Are we going to stand here trading insults?”
“No. You go first. Just in case someone’s figured out about this place. Who the hell knows—maybe there are more Russians on the way.”
“You sure you want me to be on the front line of fire? I thought you were supposed to protect me?”
“I’m beginning to think it’s more trouble than it’s worth.”
She pushed open the door, faced with a long flight of narrow stairs running along the outside of the building. “Three flights up,” Reno said. “No elevator.”
She wisely kept her thoughts to herself, trudging up the stairs. He was right behind her, and if he’d been interested, he could be watching her ass, but he wasn’t interested.
She was only slightly out of breath when they reached the third floor. At this point he pushed past her, his body brushing hers, and she felt her pulse quicken, the blood rushing to places it had no business rushing. At least she could manage her poker face.
He unlocked the anonymou
s white door at the end of the corridor, kicking off his cowboy boots with more ease than she would have thought, and stepped inside, holding the door open for her.
Her sneakers were a little trickier, but she got them off and put them on the small platform before stepping inside. The apartment smelled musty, closed up, as if no one had been there for months, and Reno quickly strode across the small space, pushing open the door to the narrow balcony, letting in the cold winter air while Jilly looked around her.
Somewhere she’d gotten the impression that Tokyo apartments were small and crammed with possessions. This particular one was certainly small, but it had a Zen-like simplicity. There was a futon couch on one wall, a computer on the other. Bookshelves neatly organized, every space used, what looked like diplomas framed and hung on the walls. One was in French, from the Sorbonne, given to Hiromasa Shinoda, summa cum laude, from the school of engineering.
“Your friend is an engineer?” she said. “I thought you’d only know biker gangs and gangsters.”
“And secret agents,” he added. “Masa was a childhood friend and a wonk. We live very different lives, but we still share certain things.”
“Where is he? Isn’t he going to mind that we’re taking over his apartment?”
“He’s out of the country. Besides, I had a key, didn’t I? He knows I come here.”
“But why? Don’t you have your own apartment?”
“I do. Obviously the people who are working against my grandfather would know exactly where it is. This is where I go when I want to disappear.” He headed toward the small kitchen alcove, looking through the packaged foods. “We’ve got dried octopus here if you’re hungry.”
“Tentacles,” Jilly said glumly. “I don’t eat tentacles.” She wasn’t going into the tiny kitchen with him—it would put her too close and she was feeling too skittish. “I’m sure I can find something.”