Hilo nodded. “It must sting that Ayt gave you up so quickly, that you’re in here now.”
Soradiyo made a motion that might’ve been an attempted shrug. “The price of failure. It’s no big surprise. And it’s not as if I’m telling you anything that you didn’t already suspect.”
“No,” Hilo agreed. “Where do you want your body sent? Do you have relatives?”
Soradiyo closed his eyes. “Yes, in Oortoko, but because of the war, I’m not sure where they are now, and I don’t want them to see me like this. Send me to my cousin Iyilo in the Uwiwa Islands. He’ll bury me, and it’ll serve him right to feel guilty for leaving me here on my own, and for what happened.”
Hilo said nothing more. He drew his talon knife and opened the barukan’s throat in one swift motion. Soradiyo’s wracked body relaxed and his chin fell forward to his chest over an apron of red. When Hilo exited, he said, “Clean him up and send him back to the Uwiwas.”
“That piece of scum killed Kehn,” Tar exclaimed, furious emotion coloring his face. “Why’d you let him off so easy? We ought to sink him into the ocean bit by fucking bit.”
Hilo silenced his Pillarman with a look that was not unsympathetic, but was stern enough to make it clear that he expected no further talking back. “Soradiyo and Tau Maro might’ve planned and carried out the bombing, but they were puppets on strings.” Hilo wiped and sheathed his knife. “Ayt Mada is playing a long game. As for Zapunyo—I warned that Uwiwan dog that if he kept reaching his dirty hands into Kekon, I’d go after him, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do.” The Pillar’s voice flattened to an edge. “We’re going to destroy everything he’s built.”
CHAPTER 50
Patience
Over the following weeks, the Green Bones of No Peak led a merciless city-wide purge targeting illegal jade dens used by the so-called new green, rockfish, barukan, and shine dealers. Dozens of criminals were beaten, jade-stripped, and imprisoned, if not outright killed. The two perpetrators that Soradiyo had paid to plant the car bomb fled Janloon and made it all the way to the city of Toshon on the southern peninsula before being caught by members of the local Jo Sun clan. The men begged for their captors to kill them, but the Jo Sun clan handed the criminals over to No Peak as a sign of allegiance and good will to the Kaul family. They were not alone in their thinking; the other minor Green Bone clans, the Janloon city police, and even the Mountain clan assisted or got out of the way—there was nothing to be gained from opposing Kaul Hilo’s rampage.
Most Janlooners, judging by sentiment on the street and coverage in the press, approved of the crackdown and saw it as necessary. The car bombing, everyone knew by now, had been the cowardly scheme of a Shotarian gangster working for an Uwiwan jade smuggler. While the Kekonese are forgiving, even comfortable, with public violence between those of equal status, the idea of dishonorable foreign crooks striking at a great and powerful Green Bone family and injuring innocent people in the heart of an affluent Janloon neighborhood was offensive in the extreme.
Even Ayt Mada’s prominence as a patriotic public figure was eclipsed by the return of Hilo’s personal presence to the streets of Janloon. After nearly four years as Pillar, his youthful, violent reputation had begun to fade. Now he made no secret of the fact that he was out for blood, and people nodded in understanding. He replaced the destroyed Duchesse Priza with a gleaming new Duchesse Signa—even more intimidating than its predecessor, boasting greater horsepower and an enormous silver grille. He roamed at all hours, at the head of a pack of Fists. Wherever he was sighted, people stepped back and touched their foreheads in nervous salute.
There was a time when Hilo would’ve taken satisfaction in all this, but now he had only one real objective in mind that eluded him: killing Zapunyo. “It doesn’t matter how many of his scrap pickers and rockfish we send to the grave, Zapunyo always has more,” the Pillar growled, dropping a map of Tialuhiya onto the coffee table in front of Shae, Juen, and Tar, and pacing around the study. “Life is cheap in the Uwiwa Islands; in less than a year he could replace everything we’ve taken from him. Meanwhile, he’s sipping papaya cocktails on the balcony over his lake.”
“He can’t have fruit juice; he’s diabetic,” Shae pointed out.
She received a predictable sneer in return for her cheek. “Can you think of a way to sneak fatal amounts of sugar into him? No? Then we need to find another way to whisper his name.” He dropped back into the nearest armchair and said to Juen, “What are the options?”
Juen blew out a pessimistic breath as he picked up the blurry photographs. They showed the perimeter of Zapunyo’s compound, taken from a distance with telephoto lenses by No Peak spies in the Uwiwa Islands and supplemented with sketched blueprints based on Teije Runo’s recollection of the property from his extended stay as Zapunyo’s guest. Not that Teije’s memory could be trusted all that much. Juen said, “It won’t be easy. Zapunyo’s compound has all the best security that money can buy. Watchtowers, guard dogs, motion sensors, security cameras, and of course his barukan bodyguards. He owns all the surrounding land so no one can get near him.”
“There has to be a way to get someone into that fortress,” Hilo insisted. “Or to buy someone who’s already inside. Doesn’t he have deliverymen, housekeepers, gardeners?”
“He doesn’t let many people near him besides his sons, his doctor, and his bodyguards. Most of the house staff have been working for him for years and he only hires Uwiwans from local families, so he can be sure they will never betray him. A few years ago, a rival shine producer tried to have Zapunyo poisoned by his own cook. The cook was sent back to his relatives over the course of a week, in seven different buckets. No one else has ever tried.”
“Then we have to do this ourselves,” Tar said, with heat. “What are Zapunyo’s cameras and hired goons next to a couple dozen of our best Fists? We fight our way in and kill him.”
Juen said, “Even if we split up and take different flights at different times, we’re not going to be able to fly in without Zapunyo getting wind of it.” The Uwiwa Islands still had a standing travel ban on all Green Bones and any Kekonese nationals with suspected ties to the clans (which could be almost anyone). “We could try to get into the country by boat, the same way Zapunyo moves his own scrap pickers. That would mean at least a couple of days at sea in a private vessel. Once we get there, we’ll need to get from the coast to Zapunyo’s compound in the hills, three hundred kilometers inland. No matter what, the barukan will Perceive us before we get there—they’ll have time to get Zapunyo to safety and to mount a defense.”
Tar turned to the Pillar. “Let me do it, Hilo-jen,” he pleaded. “When have I let you down before? Let me take ten Fists with me and I swear on my jade I’ll send Zapunyo to the grave.”
Shae spoke up. “I agree with all of you that we have to kill Zapunyo.” Hilo thought his sister still looked pale and skinny enough for a stiff wind to blow her over, though for days, she’d been studying the gathered information and the photographs on the table as obsessively as the rest of them. “But we can’t do this, Hilo. We can’t send a band of Green Bones to illegally enter another country and assassinate someone in a bloody showdown, no matter who he is. Zapunyo is sure to do what he did last time—protect himself with local police officers that will end up dead in the fighting and on the news.”
“Who cares about some crooked Uwiwan cops?” Tar exclaimed.