The Last Assassin by Barry Eisler Page B

Tokyo.
    It took him four rings to answer. Ordinarily he got it on the first.
    â€œHai,” he said. He sounded tired. Well, it was night out there.
    â€œOre da,” I said in Japanese. It’s me.
    â€œLet me call you back from a different line.”
    His voice was really raspy. Must have been a hell of a case of the flu he was fighting.
    â€œSure,” I said, and clicked off.
    A moment later the phone rang. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m changing phones more frequently lately than I used to.”
    â€œNot using scrambled?”
    He laughed, then coughed. “Only when we’re trying to get the NSA’s attention.”
    I smiled. A scrambled digital signal attracts the NSA the way blood brings sharks. It’s as useful as leaning close to whisper in someone’s ear: anyone who sees you do it will immediately start listening intently. Better to just move the conversation somewhere else, where no one is looking.
    â€œHow did things go?” he asked. “Were you able to meet her?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd your son?”
    â€œI saw him, too.”
    â€œJust saw him?”
    â€œNo, it was more than that. I…” I paused, the memory seeming to shift something inside my chest. “I held him in my arms while he slept.”
    â€œThat’s good,” he said, and I imagined him smiling.
    â€œYou okay?” I said. “That flu sounds pretty bad.”
    â€œI’m all right.”
    â€œI’ve got a situation I need your help with. I’ll put the information on the bulletin board.”
    â€œI may not be able to access the bulletin board for a while. I’m in the hospital.”
    I frowned and pressed my ear closer to the receiver. “What’s going on?”
    â€œNothing, I’ll be out of here soon. Tell me about your situation. It sounds more pressing than mine.”
    â€œYou sure your phone is all right?”
    â€œPositive.”
    Okay. I told him everything.
    When I was done, he said, “What are you thinking?”
    â€œYou know what I’m thinking. I can’t stop halfway. The only way to finish this is to keep going until it’s done.”
    â€œYou mean…”
    â€œLook, the Chinese are just contractors on this. They don’t know me, they don’t know what I’m capable of, so they’ll believe the obvious explanation for what happened to their people—a junior guy with a history of violence lost his temper, killed his boss, and went into hiding. But Yamaoto is going to know better. And he’ll have an incentive to try to persuade the Chinese that I was behind the deaths of two of their people, as a way of getting them personally involved. So all I’ve done by taking out the two Chinese is buy myself a little time. If I don’t finish Yamaoto, too, it’ll have been for nothing. Worse than nothing, because if the Chinese figure out what really happened, they could retaliate against Midori and my son. They know where they live, goddamnit. They’ve been watching them.”
    There was a pause. Finally he said, “I agree.”
    â€œOf course you agree. This is exactly what you wanted. Don’t think I don’t know it.”
    â€œI had no intention of putting your son in danger.”
    â€œYou showed me those photos to make the baby more real to me, to make it impossible for me to ignore. Otherwise you could have just told me.”
    â€œPerhaps, but…”
    â€œYou’re a manipulative bastard, Tatsu. You know it’s true. But I don’t have time to argue with you about it. I don’t even have time to hate you. I need your help.”
    â€œYou want me to move them?”
    I knew he could do it. He’d moved Midori to New York in the first place, to protect her from Yamaoto. But Yamaoto had found her anyway.
    â€œI don’t want you to do anything,” I said. “If she gets wind of what’s out there