“Pretty much,” Palmer said. “That leather satchel your IDs came with keeps us pretty up to date.”
“Can I ask why?” Quinn slowed his breathing, letting this new reality sink in.
“You’ve proven yourself too many times for me to think you shot Officer Chin.” Palmer paused as if he wanted to get his words just right. Such self-awareness was a rarity for him. “You were correct when we talked after Kim was shot. There is definitely something global in the works. That hit team in Vegas was just too neat and tidy. And then someone tries to frame you for the murder. If Oda is behind all this, as Emiko suspects, then there is a larger game in play. Oda is a big gun. It would be overkill to use his organization just to kill a member of someone’s family.”
“You have a theory?”
“Wish I did,” Palmer said. “But I do have another problem. Have you been watching the news?”
“I’ve been a little busy running from the law,” Quinn said.
“But you know about this pandemic?”
“I do,” Quinn said. “Looks awful.”
“For a time it looked like there might have been a bit of bright news on the horizon. Japan was hit with this same virus months ago. They were able to contain it but started work on a vaccine anyway. Our folks on the ground there say they have developed a live virus vaccine that produces antibodies in humans. The president wants it pushed through ASAP.” Palmer groaned. “A couple of wrinkles over here though have made me second-guess our celebrations.”
“Let me guess,” Quinn said, still watching the building across the street. “Yanagi Pharmaceutical is involved.”
“That’s correct.” Palmer sighed. “How did you know?”
“I’m sitting across from their front doors right now, waiting for Oda to show up.”
“Dammit!” Palmer hissed. “I knew a vaccine this soon was a fantasy. Can you get inside?”
“I can now,” Quinn said. “Has anyone tested the vaccine?”
“Supposedly,” Palmer groaned. “We have CDC and HHS personnel there now, but they’re under tremendous pressure to stop this virus.”
“Yeah,” Quinn said. “I just saw them come back from a break. Looks like the tests went well. They may as well have been toasting each other with champagne.”
“It wouldn’t be that difficult for someone to doctor the results enough for them to accept a bogus test.”
“Okay,” Quinn said. “I’ll go check it out. But do me a favor and tell Miyagi I forgive her.”
“She’ll be glad to hear that,” Palmer said. “Don’t quote me, but for some reason, I think she has a little teacher crush on you…” He chuckled. “Anyway, wish me luck. I have to go tell the president I’m taking away the good news for his State of the Union address tonight.”
Quinn ended the call and peered over at Ayako, who stood so the vending machine blocked some of the wind.
“Did you know about this?”
She shook her head. “I am beginning to believe Emiko-chan does not tell me anything. I can guess from your half of the conversation that the authorities know where you are?”
“They do,” Quinn said, dark eyes narrowing as an idea formed in his head. “Would you mind if I make another quick call?”
///
Veronica Garcia answered on the second ring.
“Hello?”
Her honey-soft voice caused Quinn to catch his breath.
“It’s me,” he said, feeling a little dizzy at the sound of her.
“Jericho?”
“Yep.”
“Oh… a… hi.” Her voice was hollow, distant.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call before I left.”
“Okay,” she said, her voice noncommittal. “Jacques gave me your message.”
“Yeah,” Quinn said, picturing her. “But I still should have called.”
“That’s true,” she said. “Turns out you were right about the feds. A deputy U.S. marshal came by looking for you. I was able to tell him you were too big a jerk to call me before you ran.”
“You’ll probably be mad at me for asking this,” Quinn said. “But do you know how Kim is doing?”
There was silence on the line. Quinn felt like an idiot. You didn’t ask your girlfriend to check on the status of your ex-wife.
Garcia rescued him. “She’s doing better every day. OSI still has her under protection. Mattie, too.”
“Thanks.” He wanted to say more, but Ayako stood too close, arms crossed and a jealous pout pinching her face. “Listen, I have to go. I’ll call you again soon. I…”
“I know,” Garcia said, and hung up.
Garcia slipped the cell phone into the pocket of a black Massif Nomex jacket, then looked up at Thibodaux and Miyagi with a tear in her eye.
The big Cajun gave her shoulder a squeeze in an attempt to console her.
“You okay, cher?”
She sniffed. “I’m fine.”
Thibodaux turned so he could see her with his good eye. “He asked you about Kim?”
“He did.” A broad smile spread over Ronnie’s full lips as a realization dawned on her. “But do you know what that means? It means he called me first.”
Quinn handed the phone back to Ayako and grabbed the helmet from where it hung on the handlebar of the Blackbird.
“Was that your girlfriend?” Ayako frowned.
Quinn pulled on the helmet and fastened the strap. “She is.” He threw a leg over the bike and pushed the starter. “Or she was. To tell you the truth, I’m not sure anymore.”
“Hmmm,” Ayako said, climbing on behind him. She snaked her arms around him as if she didn’t want him to get away.
Quinn released the clutch and pulled out of the alley to wait at the curb for traffic. Remembering he was in Japan and not the United States, he looked right first, then left for oncoming traffic. Jetting across when he had an opening, he leaned the Blackbird into a tight U-turn on the narrow street that ran alongside the Yanagi building. Ayako scrambled off and he kicked the side stand down next to the curb, facing the main thoroughfare again but from the opposite direction.
Still straddling the bike, he watched as a silver gray Suzuki Hayabusa roared down Sumiyoshi to park directly in front of the building. The big motorcycle dwarfed the rider, but she handled it as if she’d been born on the back of one.
Quinn’s gut tightened as she shook her long black hair free of a matte black helmet. It was the woman from the gondola canals at the Venetian — the woman who shot Kim.
If Miyagi had been right, this was her daughter, Ran.
Ayako gave a pitiful groan.
The young woman glanced up and down the street, paying particular attention to the way she’d come and the roofline of the buildings above her. An assassin herself, she knew where she would hide and considered those the danger areas she needed to watch.
The Blackbird was parked behind a concrete pillar and difficult to see from her vantage point.
Apparently satisfied that she hadn’t been followed and wasn’t about to be shot by a sniper, the woman bounded up the long stairway to the Yanagi building and opened the front door.
Without thinking, Quinn abandoned his helmet on the handlebar of the Blackbird, breaking into a trot for the door. He’d been focused on finding Oda so he would lead him to this girl. Now, he could go straight to her. Oda may have ordered the hit, but she had pulled the trigger and deserved a little something extra for that.
He was vaguely aware of Ayako running beside him with the guitar case strapped over her shoulder as he jerked open the glass door.
He caught a glimpse of the young woman’s gray motorcycle jacket starting up an open flight of stairs at the far end of the expansive lobby, across fifty feet of pink granite tile. The entire ground floor was a perfect example of minimalist style with little more than a few simple calligraphies, an oval reception desk, and a half a dozen uniformed security guards.