Matt Drake 07 - Blood Vengeance (21 page)

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

At the same time, Smyth burst out of his hiding place, rushing forward in full assault mode. The team had all agreed that leaving a man behind was actually a good idea on this occasion. It had been
Alicia’s plan. Smyth had listened to it and allowed an evil little grin to spread across his face.

“I’ll do it,” he snarled. “I’d love to waste all th
ese bastards. It’ll be my personal revenge for Romero.”

The Delta man had carefully dug deep into a mound of loose shale on the far side of the courtyard so that now, as he burst into sight, he was behind them. His machine gun was turned to full auto, spitting and coughing in his hands, spraying the field, and the fact that he shot many a mercenary in the back did not faze him at all.

They had butchered and terrorized, had this group. They had murdered without remorse. They had massacred and, not only that, they had done it all without the slightest care for civilian welfare. The innocent were no more than obstacles to be smashed aside in their eyes.

Let them die badly then.

A cluster of men by the gates went down, never understanding what hit them. The last of them tried to twist around but lost his head in Smyth’s next burst. As he ran, the concrete base around him kicked up dust and chips. Bullets pecked around his own feet. He chanced a look to the rear and saw Kovalenko and his two lieutenants surrounded by many men, some of whom were firing at him.

Damn.
If I had waited . . .

But that was not the plan. The nearby American base would be sending the hand of God to fall upon this place very soon. If he wanted any hope of surviving the strike, he had to be with the team. Smyth’s feet fairly danced amid the bullets, each step taking him nearer the shattered gates. In another second he was through and let the machine gun rattle once more, taking out another three targets.

Head down, he ran on, hoping to God one of the SPEAR team was keeping their eyes on him.

CHAPTER FORTY SIX

At around the same time,
Mai Kitano met Dai Hibiki on the steps outside the Tokyo Game Show. Her old partner stopped dead when he saw her, raising both eyebrows so far they practically disappeared into his hairline.

“Wow. Who are you?”

“It’s Mai, you idiot,” she said, thinking he hadn’t recognized her, then understood. “Oh. What do you think?”

She spun slowly, posing with her hands on her hips, conscious that every eye of every man and woman outside the Game Show was fixed upon her. The sensual feel of soft leather on her bare skin was more than invigorating.

“I don’t know, but if that ass wants to lead, I’ll follow it anywhere.”

Mai ignored hi
s bravado. Maybe she would recount his words later to Chika and make him pay. Maybe she would just see if he realized his error and let him make it up to her. “I’m Maggie Q. Do you know her?”

“I know
of
her. Nikita, yes? She’s got nothing on you, Mai.”

“That’s better. Now, are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be. The rest of my guys—your old friends from the agency—are in place too. Are you sure about going all the way with this?”

“I have no
choice. The Clan brought this down upon themselves, not me.”

Hibiki started up the steps. “Then let’s end them.”

“Even better.” Mai climbed after him.

“I have to ask, though.” Hibiki peered at her out of the corner of his eye.
“Why Maggie Q?”

Mai smiled secretly. “A surprise for a good friend,” she said. “And a reminder to my boyfriend that he’s not the only one interested in me.”

Hibiki shook his head. “I think Drake already knows you can never be tamed, Mai.”

“Sure he does, but a gentle reminder never hurts.”

****

Inside the Game Show the exhibition space was split into several large areas. Far over to the right stood the over eighteens
area, enclosed by a wall of eight-by-eight-foot panels. Closer by, and laid out in seemingly endless parallel lines, were rows and rows of game stations, each one showcasing a brand new version of a popular video game. The area was already jam-packed with onlookers, every seat taken by an enthusiastic gamer whilst, behind each one, several more waited in line or watched. The in-game noise effects and the sound of excited chatter were almost overwhelming. Crowds wandered between the rows. Over to the left stood even more stations, some reserved for dancing games, others for RPGs or retro-gaming. Still more areas offered the chance for competitions. The show itself was every gamer’s wet dream, not to mention the cosplay side of it. The sides of the exhibition hall were lined with stalls, shops and eateries, each one doing a brisk business.

“I forgot how busy this place gets.” Mai posed for a picture with two young guys, never losing a beat.

“Stop enjoying yourself,” Hibiki said. “We’ve a job to do.”

Mai smiled sweetly and offered Hibiki her phone. “Here, take a picture
so I can send it to the boys when I leave.”

The agent sniffed and shook his head, but did as Mai asked. They began to thread their way among the rows, moving ever closer to the over eighteens area. Once there, they went through a security checkpoint where Mai again was asked to pose for pictures.

“Good job we aren’t in a hurry,” Hibiki muttered as they crossed into the restricted area. Here were situated the more violent games—the Call of Dutys and GTAs—and the lines to play them doubled back on themselves at least four times.

“There’s the bar.” Hibiki nodded ahead.

Mai had already spotted it. This was the only place a person could buy alcohol at the Game Show and thus primarily attracted a certain sort. If it seemed odd that an organization like the Yakuza would frequent a video games show, Mai knew it was not. The younger gang element played video games just like any other young Japanese. The older element liked to peruse and safeguard their investment—the fact that they owned one of the biggest video game developers in Japan was a badly kept secret.

Since its early days, the Game
Show had become a tradition for most people. Once a year they made the pilgrimage. Once a year they met gamer friends and talked over the last three hundred and sixty five days. Once a year they became consummate geeks, lost in the herd.

Mai spotted the man she was looking for straight away. He was thin and rangy, hard-faced, and wearing dark clothing which covered every one of his gang tattoos. He sat toward the back of the bar, among a group of fellow gang members, giving death glares to any unfortunate soul who passed close by. The Yakuza might enjoy the Game Show to a point, but they did not want to make friends here.

Mai took a breath. “Tokyo Coscon part two,” she breathed. “Here I go again.”

Hibiki melted away, choosing a
clever vantage point whilst pretending to watch some super-geek playing the new Final Fantasy installment. Mai headed for the bar, taking a slow walk, making sure every gang member noticed her. Truth be told, it wasn’t a tough job. A blind man in a snowstorm would have sat himself down just to watch her walk.

She leaned over the bar to be sure their attention was properly focused. “Got any milk?”

The bartender put down his towel. “Baby-changing station’s back by the entrance doors.”

“Oh.
How about a pint then?”

“Got a preference?”

“Not really. Surprise me.”

“I’d love to.” The man turned away from her stare and pulled down a glass. By the time it was full she sensed she was no longer alone.

Without turning around she took a sip. “Can I help you?”

“
Me and the boys have a bet goin’. Which one of us gets to peel those tight leather pants off tonight.”

Mai spun in place, leaning back with her elbows on the bar. “Well, you’re certainly going the right way about doing that.”

It wasn’t her target, just one of his minions. She nodded over at his table. “A bet, eh? And just for taking my pants off. What’s the take?”

“So far?
About a thousand. Why? You interested in taking a cut?”

Mai didn’t answer, just made a show of looking the gang over. “If all you wanna do is take my pants off . . . doesn’t seem worth my time.”

The minion laughed. “There’s more than that laid out on the table. Much more.”

“Mmm, sounds good. But it’s not quite fair.
There’s only six of you.”

The minion almost choked. “Hey lady, you should be a little more—”

“Careful?” Mai smiled wickedly. “Careful’s for the weak and the powerless. And believe me, I’m neither.”

By now her target was taking more of an interest, clearly wondering what was being said. He stood up and beckoned her over. Mai thought about her parents, about Gyuki, about Hibiki and Chika. She thought about the clan master and all the dreadful things she had witnessed as a child growing up in his community. There really was no option here.

Her target, a man called Hikaru, called to her. “Are you a cosplay girl? I thought I knew them all. Are you new to the circuit?”

Mai felt six pairs of eyes watching her as she walked up to him.
“Freelancer. Thought I would give it a try this year.”

“Are you alone? You look a little familiar.”

“Don’t you recognize me? I’m a movie star.” Mai let out a little giggle. “And no—my boyfriend’s around somewhere playing his
games.
” She rolled her eyes on the last word, showing her distaste.

“Ah I
see. So you were dragged to the show were you? And you want to what . . . teach him a lesson by playing a little game of your own on the side?”

Mai shrugged.
“Why not? I’ve already decided this is going to be my year of firsts.”

Hikaru grinned. “I could think of a few ‘firsts’ right now.”

Mai let the giggle out again. “How would you know?”

“There’s a restroom just over there. I’m guessing that’d be your first ‘first’. Wanna try?”

“Only if you have a little stamina. I’m sick and tired of the nightly five-minute desperate Hail Mary passes.”

Hikaru exhaled. “Jesus, you’re fuckin’ hot. C’mon. Ichiro,
Kyo, watch the doors. No one gets in, you hear me?
No one.
Hey, girl, what’s your name?”

“Maggie.” She giggled and took his hand, giving him the full fantasy. The look in his eyes told her he had totally bought it, as had every one of his cohorts.
Were guys really so easy?
she wondered.
A pair of leather pants, a giggle, and a bit of sex-talk. Was
Drake
that easy?

Or was it just the bad guys and their raging, repressed hormones?

Hikaru led her toward the restroom, crossing a short length of blue carpet. The orange symbol for the gents glowed above the door. Mai slowed and looked around, feigning sudden doubt, but actually scouting the area. Hikaru pulled her hand hard, leaving no doubt as to his intentions and chivalry, and she let herself be dragged through the door. Inside, everything was stark white, bright and relatively clean. Hikaru turned her around and forced her against the wall, hands first.

“Stick your ass out, Maggie. You’re gonna experience a first your geek boyfriend wouldn’t dare ask you for.”

Mai wiggled. “Do it. I’m nothin’ if I’m not a dirty freak.”

“And when you’re snuggling up to him tonight.”
Hikaru shifted his pants down. “Remember this!”

It was the moment she had been waiting for. In her past experience as an undercover agent for the Japanese agency, she had learned that a man never fought the same with his tackle hanging out. She whirled, slamming an elbow into his ear. Before he could utter a screech, her hand gripped his voice box so hard his face instantly turned white.

Mai grabbed the only thing about him that wasn’t hanging as limp as a wet rag and pulled him close. She whispered in his ear. “Little Hikaru,” she said. “That was so easy. I have been sent to kill you. Do you know me now, I wonder?”

Pure terror
suddenly lit the Yakuza boss’s eyes. He knew. At last, the old legends were starting to come back to him. The searing humiliation, the outrageous memories.

“Mai Kitano,” she said.
“A name that’s whispered with some reverence around these parts, or so I’m told.”

The man didn’t move a muscle. He was hers to control. “So,” she whispered into his bleeding ear. “Still think I’m hot?”

Despite the situation, Hikaru nodded.

Mai stepped away. “Well, I guess I am pretty.” She laughed. “One squeak, Hikaru. One squeak and I’ll end you.”

The Yakuza boss motioned at his pants.

“Oh, put it away, Hikaru. I couldn’t even scratch my nose with that thing.”

Mai pulled him to the far wall. “Now listen. Like I said, I have been sent to kill you. The Tsugarai sent me. I’m willing to give you a pass this time . . . but I need your help in return.”

“What?” Now that Hikaru was fully clothed again, part of the swagger had returned. “What could I do for you?”

“Pretend to be dead,” Mai said. “For about three hours.”

“Pretend . . .” Hikaru shook his head in disbelief. “How would I do that?”

“The Yakuza are a close-knit gang,” Mai said. “It’s possible and believable that they would not want your death broadcast around immediately. Just
disappear,
Hikaru. For a little while.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’ll come back for you one night. And that twig dick will be the least of your worries.”

Hikaru remained silent as he weighed his options. His next words proved there was at least a little intelligence behind the
ever-present red haze of lust and brutality. “The Tsugarai. I know they own you. This is your homecoming, yes?”

“They do not
own
me,” Mai hissed.
“Nobody
owns me
.”

“I’m just saying . . . we don’t exactly love the Tsugarai either.”

Mai stared. “You’re offering to help?” The idea hadn’t occurred to her.

“Rock ‘n
’ roll.” Hikaru grinned.

“I have all the help I need,” Mai told him. “But one day . . . maybe one day.
Another time.”

“Just come around
wearin’ those pants and I’ll know you need me.” Hikaru touched his finger to his nose like a conspirator. “I’ll know.”

Mai nodded.
“Agreed. But Hikaru, listen. Don’t fuck me on this. You will regret it.”

“When you say it like that,” the Yakuza boss said. “I’m just putty in your hands.”

“More like a pussy in my hands.” Mai doubled him over with a hard blow to the solar plexus. “That’s for being a gang-rat piece of shit. Now, stay here and do as you’re told.”

She exited the restroom swiftly, inviting both of
Hikaru’s guards over with a saucy little wink and closing the outer door after them.