There was a pause. “Nephews of the president. Cousins of the son.”
I thought about that for a moment. “The family is probably unhappy about losing them,” I said. “Just guessing.”
“They have no way of connecting you with what happened at Kwai Chung.”
“What about Hilger?”
“Hilger?”
Kanezaki might have been playing dumb. Or the “Hilger” moniker might have been a pseudo, used operationally, that Kanezaki didn’t know. It didn’t really matter.
“The NOC,” I said.
There was a pause, during which he digested the fact that I had learned the NOC’s identity, or at least an operational pseudo. “Without confirming any names,” he said, “I can say that everyone involved has an incentive to stick to the official story. This was a joint CIA/Hong Kong law enforcement operation.”
“It sounds like Dox and I ought to get a bonus,” I said. “You got a lot more than you bargained for.”
“I can’t do that,” he said, “but you can charge me more for the next job. I don’t think anyone would argue.”
“Where’d the money go?”
“The money for the missiles?”
“Yeah.”
“It was recovered at the scene.”
“How much was recovered?”
“About three million.”
I laughed. “ ‘About three million’? Anyone wonder why such an odd amount?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean your man Hilger scooped out about two million after executing the remaining people at the scene. It was dark and he was in a hurry, though, so he couldn’t very well count it all out bill by hundred-dollar bill.”
“No. Why wouldn’t he have taken all of it?”
“This was a sale. It would have looked suspicious if there had been no funds at the point of purchase. Hilger is smarter than he is greedy.”
There was a long pause. “Let me ask you something,” he said. “Do you think he knew what was in those shipping crates?”
I considered for a moment. “I don’t think he knew beforehand, no. He seemed surprised when he heard the word ‘missiles,’ and Belghazi said something to him about not asking questions he didn’t want answered.”
“Yeah, but still, to just stand by for something like this…”
“For what it’s worth, I think he might have decided to try to prevent the deal from going down, once he figured out what it was all about. But should he have known beforehand? Could he have, if he’d cared? Hell, yes. Until circumstances made rationalization and denial impossible, he was probably happy to look the other way because he was getting such good ‘intel’ from Belghazi.”
There was another long pause while he took it in. “That’s what I thought. Anyway, there’s not much I can do about the money he took. Not this time.”
That’s all right, I thought. I know who he is now. I’ve seen his face, up close through those Zeiss binoculars. And I know he uses the name Hilger, at least operationally. Dox and I might want to have a chat with him, tell him it isn’t nice not to share.
“You ought to think about the arrangement NE had with Belghazi,” I said. “I doubt that it’s unique.”
“It isn’t.”
“Then you’re getting jerked around by other ‘good’ guys?”
“Look, the people who have the dirt are dirty. Belghazi was poor execution, but that doesn’t mean the concept itself is flawed.”
“You spend all this time with people who are dirty, what does that make you?”
“You don’t want to get dirty, better stay out of the sandbox.”
I laughed. “He was playing you.”
“Of course he was. Opposing sides always play each other. It doesn’t mean a deal doesn’t get done. As long as there’s something in it for everyone, it all gets worked out.”
“Incredible.”
“Not really. It’s just the way of the world. Look at America. All the interest groups donate to both political parties, knowing that, whoever wins, the winner will be in their debt.”
I paused, thinking, then said, “There’s something I want you to do.”
“Name it.”
“You’ve got a file about me. The file mentions Rio de Janeiro. It mentions Naomi Nascimento.”
“Yes.”
“I want those references deleted.”
“I can do that.”
“Good,” I said. “I’m going to tell you something now. And the information comes with responsibility. Heavy responsibility.”
There was a pause, then, “All right.”
“I care about that woman. It’s over between us, but I care about her. I owe her something. If someone from your organization, or through your organization, hurts her or even just tries to follow her to get to me, and I learn about it, I will make you pay.”
“I understand.”
“Good,” I said again.
There was another pause. “I hope you’ll let me know when you’re ready for the next job,” he said. “There’s a lot of work to do.”
“There always is,” I said, and hung up.
BEFORE I LEFT Hong Kong, Dox told me he couldn’t take the money I’d wired him. Told me a deal’s a deal, and we had said 50/50. I told him I couldn’t give him less than a hundred percent after what he’d done for me, after what he’d walked away from to do it. I couldn’t convince him.
“We’ll have another opportunity,” he told me, patting me on the shoulder, suddenly avuncular. “Just you wait and see.”
“I thought you said it only knocks once.”
“It does. This one wasn’t our time, that’s all.”
I nodded. “All right. You win. Send it back to me.”
“I will. Just give me the account number.”
I scratched my head. “Damn, I can’t remember it.”
“C’mon now, that’s not fair.”
“If it comes to me, I’ll write you.”
“Damn, you are a stubborn one, I’ll say that for you.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Dox. You’re a good man.”
He smiled back. “You’re just saying that ’cause it’s true.”
I held out my hand. He took it, then pulled me in for a hug.
Jesus Christ, I thought. But damn if I didn’t hug him back.
I WENT BACK to Rio.
The city was warm. It was summer there, south of the equator, and it felt good to be back, to walk the beaches and wade in the ocean and listen to choro and drink caipirinhas and live, for a while, as Yamada again.
I knew there were people now who might think to look for me in Rio. But I’m not that easy to get to, even if you know the right city. And, strangely enough, when I thought about the people who knew, I didn’t feel threatened.
Of course, a secret isn’t a secret once other people know about it. I thought I could trust Kanezaki to doctor the file as I had instructed, but you never really know. And, even if he did what I had asked, there might be other copies. I’d made a few new enemies with my latest escapades. If they looked hard enough, who knows what they might find.
But I felt all right for the moment. I’d just keep my nose to the wind, see what I could learn from Tatsu, from Kanezaki. Think about what I wanted to do next.
My wrist and leg took their time healing. My ribs took longer. The protein shakes and other supplements didn’t seem to be helping the way they should. I wanted to get back to my workouts, to jujitsu in Barra. But for a long time all I could reasonably manage was slow walks in the tropical evening air.
The long healing process was probably good for me, though. It reinforced something I needed to come to grips with: I was getting older. Time was, I would have ripped through a guy like Belghazi before he could have damaged me in return. But now, although my skills, my tactics, were better than those of my younger self, my quickness, and my resiliency, were declining. If I had been working alone that night at Kwai Chung, as I ordinarily do, I would have died there.
I tried to tell myself that it would have been all right, that it wouldn’t have been a bad death and you have to die of something. But that was bullshit. Almost dying had been a powerful reminder that I wanted to still be alive. I couldn’t articulate why, exactly. But it wasn’t just the sight of sunsets or sound of jazz or taste of whiskey.