Men like Gyuki, she mused, were not real men. Born in bloodshed, ripped from their families at a young age by warfare, strife or murder, they were trained to hunt and kill from the time they could walk. They knew no luxuries, no worldly trappings or any other life. This was all they had ever known, and thus they could maintain a focus no other fighting man in the world was capable of.
Ninjas? They might be. The old concept of the word had been lost through time. Mai herself was one of them, but even she conjured up images created by the Hollywood studios whenever she heard the word. But such fantasies did not bother these men, having no real concept of the outside world. They knew only what they were told and moved through the night, cloaked in shadows, except under extreme circumstances.
Such as Mai. For Gyuki to demand a meeting in broad daylight in a public place was unheard of. The master assassin would be as distracted as he was ever going to get.
Mai’s thoughts slipped back to Matt Drake. She hesitated even to think the word boyfriend. It was a somewhat alien concept to her, too permanent for their line of work. If she allowed herself to be drawn into an easier life, to relax for even a minute, she knew she would die. Just look at what had happened to Drake back in DC when she had momentarily let down her guard.
Now as she paced, the phone rang, and she shook her head to see it was Drake calling. He hadn’t wanted her to come alone to Tokyo, and in his desperation had forgotten the etiquette that had built between them, trying everything short of handcuffs to make her stay. Now she considered ignoring the call to teach him a lesson, but the gracious and respectful part of her won through.
“Hello?”
She listened as Drake talked fast. Hot anger and apprehension stole over her as he spoke. “Oh, my God. Poor Jonathan. But I have to warn Chika and Dai. I have to go. Matt, thank you, but I have to go.”
Mai jabbed at the phone, twice hitting the wrong button before calming her inner self and taking a deep breath. After that she depressed Chika’s speed-dial button and, with a huge effort, forced herself to wait patiently for an answer.
“Please. Please, Chika, my sister.” She had already saved Chika from the Blood King once back in Miami.
The tone chimed monotonously, every double ring adding a weight of worry to her heart. Mai made an instant decision and, tucking the phone between her neck and shoulder, grabbed her keys and exited the hotel room. Her rental was parked right outside. By the time she wrenched the door open and jumped inside the empty ringing of the phone was enough to destroy her composure.
“Come on!” Mai slammed the steering wheel with both hands and started the vehicle. She tore out of the car park, narrowly missing an oncoming Pepsi wagon, almost drowned by the tones of its blaring air horns. Her hotel was in the heart of Tokyo, not far from Chika’s apartment.
“Chika,” she said aloud. “Oh no.”
Within minutes she had crossed two junctions and caused a fender-bender. She cut off a boy racer in a black Evo and slung the little rental across two lanes onto the street that led to Chika’s.
Only then was the call answered. “Yes?”
Mai almost swooned with relief, but didn’t let it show in her voice. “Get out. Now. I’ve just had it confirmed that Kovalenko escaped. It’s almost certain he’s sent men after you.”
“I did tell you about the men who have been watching me,” Chika said matter-of-factly. “I’m surprised your other people haven’t noticed.”
“They probably have. Now get out.”
Mai had just enough time to contact Dai Hibiki before she shot to a stop outside Chika’s. Dai answered with his customary curt effectiveness.
“What’s up?”
“The Blood King is free. He targets family and friends, Dai. If I were you, I would get safe.”
“Shit. Understood. And Chika?”
“Here now.” Mai rolled the rental up over the curb and jumped out, leaving the door open. Chika ran to meet her, pouncing from the shadows of the arched entryway to her apartment block. Mai quickly scanned the area and wasn’t shocked to see three shadowy figures staring down at her through Chika’s apartment window.
So close…
Chika reached her. Mai nodded and, as she turned, saw a fourth man standing by her car, leaning over the top and lining her up in the sights of a big Desert Eagle. The man was European, well groomed, and wore a sports jacket over a casual open-necked shirt. His lips curled as he spoke.
“The Blood King sends his regards.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Could a person dodge more than one bullet? More significantly, could a person raised and trained as a Ninja dodge more than one bullet?
Mai Kitano employed lightning reactions, moving before her would-be killer even had a pound of pressure on the trigger. She could afford that small luxury. She knew exactly where he was aiming. She flung Chika to the ground and used the momentum of her throw to roll into a handstand and spin away. The gun boomed and the bullet flew between her flying heels. She landed in cat stance and sprung even as he realigned his aim, using the trunk of a wide tree for her next point of cover, but knowing she could not stay there for fear of the man turning his aim toward Chika. She paused for a heartbeat, allowing her inner calm and breathing to take over and speed up her reactions.
Mai knew she needed to be seen as the main threat. A second bullet slammed into the tree. Mai realized she was out of time. Chika was alone and totally exposed out here. Mai quickly stepped into view, ready to try her luck, prepared to take a bullet and still fight on to reach the shooter, already fine-tuning the zigzag run that would best preserve her life, when a white cop car shot past her vision and screeched as it swung broadside at the man with the gun.
The killer whirled, eyes wide, but it was too late. One minute the smug victor, the next the victim of a crushing incident, he lay across the hood of the car, held in place only because the vehicles were so close together. The gun slipped from between his fingers and clattered noisily to the road.
Mai stared as Dai Hibiki jumped out and beckoned both her and Chika over. “Hurry. You don’t have much time.” His gaze was turned up toward Chika’s window.
Mai stopped right in front of him. “How the hell did you get here so quick?”
Hibiki smiled at Chika. “When you called I was already on my way here.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Matt Drake assessed the hell, the horror and the stunned confusion that held sway over the center of Washington DC and clamped a hand on Dahl’s shoulder.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“We have to get this right. Open your friggin’ eyes. Not one man out here knows what he’s bloody doing.”
Dahl stopped, taking in the various scenes playing out around them. Dead ahead, people staggered out of the brightly lit front entrance of the Hotel Dillion amidst the sounds of gunfire. From the left, the two Secret Service agents were sprinting hard toward the hotel, shouting at a bunch of cops to follow them. The cops looked bewildered, their attention divided between the snarled-up traffic, the hordes of angry pedestrians, the scene of Gates’ murder and the frantic Secret Service agents. In the midst of all this mayhem, it had to have crossed every cop’s mind that even the agents might not be who they appeared to be. And to the right, the wide street stretched into a nightmare vision of floodlit chaos, the road snarled and jammed up, hordes of men and women thronging every available space, all the way to the White House.
“Jesus Christ,” Dahl breathed, standing still for a minute. “This is just crazy. It’s like… the end of the world.”