The Rising Sea

18

Hideki Kashimora stood in the unadorned room, seething with anger. A broad-shouldered man in his mid-forties, Kashimora ran the club for the syndicate. He collected the money, maintained its veil of secrecy and enforced its rules mercilessly — something those foolish enough to cross him usually discovered when they wound up in cement barrels at the bottom of Tokyo Bay.

And yet while violence was second nature to Kashimora, even he felt a certain chill looking into the feverish eyes of Ushi-Oni. If half of the stories told about the Demon were true, it made him the most lethal assassin in Japan. His penchant for toying with his victims first was a kind of sickness even a Yakuza boss disapproved of. Killing was business, not pleasure. But for Ushi-Oni it was both.

“I will not tolerate disruption in my club,” Kashimora said.

“I’m sure our friend Oni had good reason,” Han replied.

“Your friend,” Kashimora corrected. “Oni burned his bridges to the syndicate years ago.”

“The syndicate,” Ushi-Oni muttered. He spat blood on the floor to punctuate his disgust.

“I should put you in the ring to finish what you started,” Kashimora said.

“Do it,” Oni suggested.

Han interrupted. “Who was that man you attacked?”

“Don’t you recognize him?” Oni said. “He’s one of the men you sent me to kill.”

“What lies are these?” the casino boss asked. “That man is a promoter from Las Vegas.”

Oni laughed. “He’s no promoter. He’s an American government agent.”

“What kind of agent?” Kashimora blurted out. “And why would he come here?”

“You have nothing to worry about,” Han assured him. “If Oni’s correct, it’s not the casino they’re interested in.”

“Then what?”

“Oni has been recognized; I can only suspect they came here to capture him.”

“They?” Kashimora said. “You think there are more of them?”

“Would you walk into a fortress like this alone?”

Kashimora was furious. He ignored Oni and focused on Han. “You bring this wild man to my place of business and you lose control of him. You let American agents follow you without even warning me to watch out for them. I ought to kill both of you.”

“Just kill the American and toss him in your koi pond,” Oni said. “Better yet, let me do it.”

“No,” Han said. “We have to know if he came alone.”

“That will be difficult, if not impossible, to determine,” Kashimora said. “For obvious reasons, there are no video cameras here.”

“So torture him or beat the truth out of him,” Ushi-Oni said, rising to his feet.

Kashimora didn’t like the Demon being in his establishment. The man was too prone to unnecessary violence. And far too headstrong. “I’m tempted to expel you both,” he said. “If the Americans came here looking for you, I can only assume they will leave once you’re thrown out.”

“Carrying with them whatever information they’ve picked up on their journey,” Han pointed out. “Including evidence of who comes here and what they do. Don’t think that information won’t find its way back to the police.”

“I’m not worried about the police,” Kashimora said proudly. “In the meantime, I’ll throw all the foreigners out.”

“I have a better idea,” Han said. “Put the American in the ring. Make him fight for his life. Plaster his image on every screen in the establishment. If he came here on his own, you’ll get nothing but a thrilling fight. But if he has comrades in the crowd, they will no doubt come to his aid and try to rescue him. Position your men accordingly and you’ll be able to grab them all with one swish of the net.”