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McKenna retrieved the briefcase from her stateroom. Passed Ridley in the galley. The engineer motioned upstairs. “Everything all right?”

“Perfectly fine,” McKenna told him. “Just doing a little business.”

She walked back upstairs to the wheelhouse. Paused before she reached the top, half expecting to find Nakadate waiting with a gun in his hand. But the gangster’s back was to her, a cell phone in his ear. He spoke very quickly in Japanese.

Nakadate turned as McKenna set the briefcase on the chart table. Crossed to the table and lifted the mangled lid, rifled through the stock certificates inside. Then, satisfied, he closed the briefcase again. Turned it back to McKenna.

“Your bank information,” he said.

McKenna dug a notebook out of a drawer at the front of the wheelhouse. Found the information and relayed it to Nakadate, who repeated it over the phone. Then the gangster ended the call.

“Call your banker in ten minutes,” he told her. “You will have the money.”

McKenna pulled out her cell phone. Found the number for her bank in the notebook and punched it in.

“I will create the necessary documentation,” Nakadate told her. “One of my legitimate companies. We will agree that we are paying you the money as a consultation fee relating to the Pacific Lion incident. Five million American dollars. That should be sufficient to deal with any tax implications.”

“Thank you,” McKenna said, realizing that she hadn’t quite thought that far ahead.

Nakadate gave her another ghost of a smile. “We are businesspeople, Captain Rhodes. I’m glad we could arrive at a civil arrangement.”

McKenna called her bank. Checked the balance of the Gale Force Marine account and the latest transaction. Nakadate was a man of his word. The five million was there.

She ended the call. “We’re set,” she told Nakadate. She handed him the briefcase, and the gangster took it, bowed slightly. Then he held out his hand.

McKenna hesitated. Then she shook it.

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