“Eh? Whaddya mean?”
Hibiki waved a hand. “After dropping off Chika I spent a little time discreetly quizzing the local police. They know you are here, Matt, with a team. And they are watching for you.”
“Bollocks.”
“Only your face was recognized by the spotters. Perhaps they lost you or had very little time. But we can’t risk you coming along on this mission. We can’t risk Mai’s safety, and we need somebody to safeguard Grace and man the comms.” He gestured at Drake.
“Well bollocks again. No way am I sitting on my arse whilst Mai’s in trouble. Besides, you need me.”
Dahl loaded his weapon as he spoke. “We need Alicia. We need Hibiki. They need a strong, skilful, capable bodyguard. So, see, we don’t need you at all, Yorkie.”
“Seriously,” Hibiki broke in before Drake could react. “They will spot you the moment you exit this hotel. Then they will follow us. You’re out of it, Matt. Sidelined.”
Drake took a breath but couldn’t think of anything to say. The wind had been well and truly taken out of his sails. This is Mai, he thought. Surely there’s a way. The problem was, Hibiki’s rationale made total sense.
Karin’s voice spilled from the laptop’s speakers. “Guys. Guys? I think I’ve found it. Hope you’re ready.”
“To take on a few thousand Yakuza in their own headquarters in their own city on their own terms?” Dahl’s grin would have illuminated a sea cave. “Looking forward to it.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Chika exited the secure room feeling relieved. Not knowing what to expect she had imagined all sorts of horrors, but the uninterested man inside had asked questions about her boss — questions that Hibiki had prepped her for — given her a cursory frisking and then emptied out her small handbag. It contained only lipstick, a compact mirror makeup case, condoms and a cellphone, all of which were expected.
“Follow house rules at all times,” the man said as if reciting a script.
“Yes, sir.”
The elevator arrived and Chika got her first clue as to where she might be taken. A man holding a compact machine-pistol urged her group inside and pressed the button for basement level two. She noticed there were three lower levels in total. All around her the girls chatted and the men ignored them. The elevator dinged and the doors whooshed open. Chika found herself facing a narrow corridor with doors to each side and an outsize open-plan room at the far end. She noticed a stairwell access door to her left. It was into the far room that they were herded. Throw cushions, leather suites, loungers and pouffes sat everywhere. To one side stood a number of curtained-off booths; to another a full-size bar with waitress service. More ominously a raised, black-lacquered stage formed the room’s showpiece, complete with dancing pole. A clock on the wall read 9:35.
“Make yourselves at home, ladies,” a voice rang out. “Our guests shall be along shortly.”
Chika headed for the bar. As she ordered a drink several tattooed men appeared dragging a youth between them. The youth, though dressed well, sported several cuts and bruises to his face and the way he favored his right side made Chika guess at a number of broken ribs. The youth was dragged unceremoniously through the large room, his captors not acknowledging the presence of all the girls.
“Take him to lock up,” one of the men said, and then he too headed for the bar. As he ordered, Chika saw that his knuckles were bloody. She looked away.
“Young men,” he breathed knowingly. “All the same. All think they know what is best. If he lives he will learn.”
Chika sipped her whisky, and kept an eye on the youth’s progress. The elevator doors closed after the press of a button and a green indicator light told her that the elevator was heading down.
So the lock up was on level three. A positive starting point at least.
She wondered if the girls were allowed to initiate conversation. Several questions sprang to mind that would help pinpoint Mai. Then she caught Asa staring straight at her.
She walked over. “I still watching you,” she said, waving at a barman. “I see where you are looking.”
“Leave me alone,” Chika hissed. “I’m only here for the guests.”
“Now ladies,” the man with bloody knuckles said, smiling. “Be nice. You are all here to help us unwind, yes?” He studied Chika. “The classy,” his gaze whipped to Asa, “and the crude. Make your guests happy, yes?”
He pointed at the door. Several men filed through; business types, all bearing the hassles of the day on their faces. The bar came to life and the music started. Chika flowed to the center of the room, ignoring Asa’s murderous gaze. Dread for Mai kept her inner strength at an elevated level, her outward demeanor intact. This was not her; the person she played was not even in her arsenal.
Fight on. Remember how you felt when Mai returned. When your parents returned safe. When Mai saved you…
“Hai,” A man bowed very slightly before her. “You are mine for tonight. I will take that,” he relieved her of her glass. “And you will fetch me another. Quickly now.”
Chika hid her distaste well, rose and walked toward the bar. It struck her then that, even after the nail-biting ordeal she had already been through, this night was only just beginning.
Drake listened attentively as Karin helped turn Dai Hibiki’s outrageous plan into something that might achieve fruition. Though gutted at the outcome of events, his behind-the-scenes role in running the op was imperative and he needed Karin’s knowledge. Grace, on the other hand, had now started to officially ignore him, given that he’d seemed so traumatized at having to stay and guard her.
Too busy to worry, he concentrated on Karin’s words.
“I have to admit, when Hibiki first stated he got this plan from something he heard about the White House I was more than a little sceptic. This is the Yakuza we’re talking about, a Japanese mob network, not the Secret Service. But it may have paid off. When Hibiki told me about all the prisoners that the Yakuza interrogate inside their HQ, all the bodies they create, all the hospital visits that must ensue, all the high-level deals that simply can’t involve someone just walking through the front doors of either the HQ or even the compound, then it makes absolute sense that they have built a small tunnel network underneath Kobe.”
Hibiki coughed. “Not quite a network, but—”
“We don’t know that,” Karin admitted. “But we do know this. I spent an hour trawling through deeds of ownerships. Most were easy, some a little vague, but only one led me through several dummy corporations from places as far apart as Zurich and Australia, Nigeria and New York. Only one presented half a dozen dead ends, fake corporations and even faked personnel, including directors. Finally, I tracked the company’s ownership to a Yakuza-run gambling conglomerate with outlets all over Japan. It owns the three-story building across the road and to the side of theirs. It’s actually the closest of the lot.”
“So they use that building to admit their various guests. People, for one reason or another they don’t want seen even in Kobe, and take them through a man-made tunnel into the true headquarters.” Dahl cleared his throat. “A clever set up.”
“They have been involved in this business for so long,” Hibiki said. “It would surprise me if they didn’t have every detail perfected by now.”
“Let’s hope they don’t,” Dahl said. “For all our sakes.”
Alicia addressed Karin. “Any communications into the place?”
“You mean anything special? Not that I can find.”
“Can you tap their network?” Hibiki asked.