"Why not just carry a submachine gun?" Kasen asked, making it a taunt.
"Something small and delicate, like you."
Tai's left hand was a blur, the knife edge of it striking Kasen in the neck. The Ranger staggered back, coughing hard. He wasn't off balance long, going into the attack, hands a blur of blows aimed at Tai. Vaughn was impressed as she fended off every one of them with blocks, twisting and turning, getting inside Kasen's range and hitting him two hard blows in the solar plexus, doubling him over, before she skipped back out of range.
"You bitch," Kasen cursed as he slowly straightened and considered his adversary.
"You were lucky."
"I don't think so," Vaughn said, stepping between the two.
"I don't need you to intervene," Tai said.
"Let the pig come at me. I'll teach him the meaning of pain."
"As you said," Vaughn said, "we're teammates. We – " He was caught off guard as Kasen leapt past him, going for Tai's throat. Kasen was left grasping air as
Tai ducked underneath him, then spun about, her left boot toe leading, striking Kasen on the side of his head and dropping him unconscious to the floor.
"Shit," was Sinclair's take on the TKO.
"Seems to me the lady wants the machine gun."
"Seems to me we ought to give it to her," Vaughn said as he knelt and checked Kasen. The Ranger opened his eyes, the pupils unfocused for several moments, then realization set in and he tried to jerk to his feet.
"Enough," Vaughn said, putting an arm across his chest.
"What's going on?" Orson demanded, his short bulk filling the open door.
"A slight disagreement over equipment," Vaughn said, helping Kasen to his feet and glancing at Tai, who stood perfectly still without saying a word.
"If we kill each other," Orson said, "there won't be much of a mission. Back to work."
Vaughn helped Kasen to his place, then went over to Tai.
"I don't need you to help me," Tai hissed.
"We're teammates," Vaughn said again.
"We're supposed to help each other. You going to be able to work with Kasen?"
"He's a pig," Tai said.
"As long as he does his job and doesn't insult me again, I'll have no problem."
"What martial art was that?" Vaughn asked.
"I didn't recognize some of the blocks."
"Something my father taught me," Tai said vaguely. She looked at him.
"You were on that team that screwed up the hostage rescue, weren't you?"Yes."
Vaughn waited for more."Interesting," Tai said, a surprising response.
"Royce approached you after that, right?"Vaughn nodded."An undercover team of terrorist hunters?" Tai asked."Yes."Do you believe him?"Why shouldn't I? We're here."Hmm," Tai mused."How did he recruit you?"How is not important," she said.
"Why is."Then why?"Because of my sister."Vaughn felt like he was pulling teeth to get anything out of these people.
"What about your sister?"She was killed in the attack on the Pentagon. He promised me vengeance against the Abu Sayef, who we believe are allied with Al Qaeda."
"That was years ago," Vaughn said.
"You've been working for Royce all this time?"
"No. He approached me two days ago. There was something else."
"And that is?"
"I was accused of prisoner abuse in Iraq."
"And you just passed a test to get on the team?" Vaughn asked. Tai's head jerked and she reached up and placed her fingers lightly on the bandage.
"Yes. And you?" Her eyes met his, and they were locked in a stare that lasted several seconds, each appraising the other.
Finally Vaughn nodded.
"Yes."
He broke the stare and looked at the other members of the team, wondering what in their past had caused them to be recruited and what they had just done recently in order to be allowed on the team.
His thoughts were interrupted by Orson.
"Briefings in one hour."
Then the team leader left the room once more.
"So everyone here is new to this team?" Vaughn asked Tai, trying to confirm what he had suspected upon entering isolation.
She shrugged.
"As far as I know. Makes sense if they want to keep it covert."
"But Royce told me that this was a one-way ticket," Vaughn pointed out.
"We'll never go back to our previous assignments."
"And?"
"Do you think we're the first ones ever to get booked on this kind of thing?" he asked her.
That gave Tai pause.
"What are you trying to say?"
"I don't know," Vaughn admitted frankly.
"But…"
"But…?"
Vaughn looked at the photo of Rogelio Abayon. Eyes on the target – it was an axiom of planning.
"Let's get this son of a bitch."
Tai nodded.
"That's the idea."
The death of a Yakuza boss was big news. But for the moment that news was being held very tightly. Both ends of the alley where Kasama had been killed were still sealed by the containers. The police had used ladders to climb over the trailers blocking one end and then get down into the alley. Upon ascertaining who the victims were, a special police unit had been called. The head of that unit, working on a classified alert bulletin he had been given just a few days before, then made another call, this one to the Public Security Intelligence Agency, the Japanese version of the CIA.
Within fifteen minutes an unmarked helicopter appeared overhead and landed as close as possible. Two old men got off. They brushed their way past the police under the escort of the head of the special unit. Laboriously, they clambered up the ladder and then down another ladder into the alley. They walked up to Kasama's body, ignoring the smoke still drifting out of the SUVs and the other bodies and body parts littered about.
The Yakuza boss's head was resting on his stomach, neatly severed from his body. His dead hands cradled the head, as if protecting it. Lifeless eyes stared at his feet. The two men stood there for several moments, not speaking.
The head of the police special unit on the Yakuza cleared his throat, then said, "We do not think this was done by a rival faction. There have been no reports or rumors. Someone would be boasting of it if they had done it. And the preparations" – he indicated the three destroyed vehicles, the two trailers, the bodies – "we would have gotten some wind of it if some other part of the Yakuza were involved."
"'Wind,'" one of the old men repeated.
"The Black Wind blows no more," he added, nodding toward Kasama's body.
His partner turned toward the policeman.
"This is our problem. You are correct – it is not internal Yakuza conflict."
"What is it?" the policeman asked.
"Who did this?"
The first old man considered the question for several moments, as if trying to decide how much to say, then shrugged.
"We don't know. That's why we're here. But we know the Black Wind has been involved in things that extend beyond the borders of our country. Far beyond. And strong as Kasama and his organization were, there was something stronger than them. As we can obviously see."
The other man turned to the policeman.
"You can go now."
The policeman beat a hasty retreat.
"Should we call the group?" one asked the other.
He nodded.
"Let them in on the confusion."