Ratio(77)

“Freeze!” one of the men said. He was the shorter of the two, but still pretty tall. A white guy with short, black hair. Probably Secret Service. He held a gun up, pointed right at Kanezaki. The other guy, a massive black man dressed in a nice suit stood nearby.

“I l-l-look for my w-wife,” Kanezaki said, in his best Japanese-tourist accent.

“Hands on your head,” the white guy said.

The black guy didn’t say anything.

“M-my wife?” Kanezaki repeated.

The two suits walked toward him. The white guy kept his gun up.

“You a guest in the hotel, sir?”

“Yes. Here with my wife.”

“Yeah, we got that, sir. You need to come with us. Down to the lobby.”

The black guy was glaring at Kanezaki’s right hand. He’d noticed the missing finger. A yakuza tradition, of sorts. The man’s eyes narrowed.

Shit. Kanezaki felt his chest tighten. The white guy stepped forward.

“Don’t –” the other guy warned, but too late.

Kanezaki dashed forward, pushing the agent’s gun arm out of the way. With his free hand, Kanezaki whipped out the ceramic knife, flicked open the blade, and went for the stomach. Three jabs to the lower abdomen, and the agent doubled over. Dropped his gun. Kanezaki kicked it away, knocking the agent to the floor. He lay there alive, but bleeding. Looked up at the other suit, muscles tensed.

“Probably shouldn’t have done that,” the black guy said. He looked calm. Hadn’t drawn a weapon yet. Probably didn’t have one.

“Maybe should have gone for the throat, huh? I made a judgment call. Don’t worry, in a few minutes I’ll finish him off. After I’m done with you.”

“I meant kicking the gun away.”

“Never liked guns much.” Kanezaki lunged, aiming the knife at the big guy’s chest. A slash to the throat would be more lethal, but difficult at this range. Center mass was always the safer bet.

The big guy moved faster than expected, dodging to the side as Kanezaki tried to land a blow. He felt something connect with his ribs, knocking the breath out of him. A sharp pain in his side, and he tumbled sideways into the wall. Dropped the knife.

Gasping for air, Kanezaki looked up. The big guy stood over him. Reached into his suit jacket, drew a handgun. Pointed it at Kanezaki’s head.

“That’s where you and I differ,” the man said. “I happen to really like guns.”

“Then why the hell didn’t you pull one,” Kanezaki said, the pain in his side reaching a crescendo.

“And waste perfectly good bullets? I need you alive, dumbass.” He stepped closer, gun still up, put his foot on Kanezaki’s ribs.

The pain was unbearable.

The man smiled. “Looks like you and I have a lot to talk about.”





Chapter 56





“GET THOSE GODDAMN alarms off!” Harper’s voice strained over the sound of the bells and the clattering generators. “We don’t need everyone panicking. They’ll be crushed to death.”

One of the agents nodded and ran out of the room.

Harper turned her attention back to the ventilation system. “Can’t we shut this damn thing down? Kill the power?”

Leopold rubbed his temples. “It won’t matter. The generators are picking up the slack, but they’re not the only source of power. With the hotel and convention center at full capacity, they’ve been working in tandem with the city grid to keep the juice flowing. If we shut them off, there’s still a battery backup system. There’s no dead switch.”

“Sounds like a major design flaw.”

“I guess the architects never anticipated a sarin gas attack.”

“So much for optimism,” said Harper.

Movement behind them, and Leopold whipped around. The door crashed open and Jerome lurched inside, holding someone up by the collar. Looked Asian, maybe Japanese. Dressed in jeans and a leather jacket.

“What the hell?” Harper reached for her weapon. The two remaining agents did the same.

“Relax,” said Jerome. “I found this guy heading upstairs. From the looks of his missing finger, this might be the Yakuza connection we’ve been looking for.”

“You sure he’s a threat?” Harper said. “Just from a missing finger?”

Jerome smiled. “That, and his intense desire to cut me into pieces with a knife, kinda tipped me off.” He looked at Harper. “One of your agents took a few hits to the stomach. I sent some of the hotel staff up to get him. Looked like the knife missed the renal artery, so hopefully he should be fine once they stop the bleeding and get him patched up. Assuming any of us get out of here in time. Speaking of which...” He tossed a cell phone at Leopold. “This might help.”