Gift fic for mazauric: Dead or Alive (2/3)
Part 1
By the time Jin gets out of the shower, Kame is off the phone again. He’s got his laptop spread out on the bed with the flash drive stuck in the side, and he’s sifting through file after file with an analyzer, trying to see if any data fragments were actually successfully decrypted. So far, there’s nothing.
“Anything interesting?” Jin says, rubbing at his hair with a small hand towel. The larger towel is wrapped low around his hips. Kame glances up at him briefly.
“Not much,” he says.
Jin drops onto the couch and tucks his hands behind his head. The ends of the towel gap over his left knee, the corner sliding down between his legs. “Yeah, that’s what it looked like to me too. One thing is for sure though, he was definitely trying to crack his way in. I recovered like two-hundred bad attempts. Pretty sure they were all the same thing.”
“That’s what I’m seeing here,” Kame says, nodding. “Identical file sizes, same first and last digits in the encrypted form. Just nothing that makes any kind of sense.”
“That means he doesn’t have it then.” Jin sounds thoughtful. A bit relieved.
Kame glances up at him again to find Jin staring up at the ceiling. “What exactly do you know about all this?” he asks.
Jin glances over at him again and smiles a bit. Seems more cooperative, now that Kame isn’t pointing a gun in his face.
“I know that that file,” he motions toward the computer with his chin, “contains a chemical formula strong enough to get the attention of biological weapons manufacturers all over the world. I know that without the encryption key, that file is basically worthless. And I know that Tsai has been trying to shop the file around, but no one is buying because he doesn’t have the key.”
Kame watches him across the room. He’s not sure if he would recognize a lie from Jin anymore, but so far it’s all true. No way of knowing if it’s the whole truth though.
“A better question,” Jin says, ruffling his wet hair between his hands and leaning forward on his elbows, “is what exactly do you know about all this?”
“Who are you working for?” Kame asks again.
Jin shakes his head slowly. “I told you, I’m not working for anyone. This one is strictly pro-bono.”
Kame frowns. “Why? What do you care?”
“I still live in the world, Kame,” Jin says, sounding a little bit affronted. “That thing is dangerous. I don’t want it to fall into the wrong hands if there’s anything I can do to stop it.”
“But how the hell did you even find out about this?”
“I still have my connections,” he says, with a little shrug. “I didn’t cut ties with everybody when I left.”
“Just with me,” Kame says blandly.
Jin looks at him again. He looks a bit like he wishes he could take that back. But why bother, when it’s true.
Whatever. Jin’s reasons are his reasons, and if there’s someone somewhere out there still willing to talk to him after what he did, then good for him. They can have him.
Kame turns back to the computer, flicking open another file. The same rows of numbers, the same mangled characters, the same signs of tampering.
“The key is on its way,” he says, not looking up at Jin again. “The encryption key can’t be copied intact, so it has to be transported by hand. The hard drive was stolen from the lab last week, and we know Tsai’s operative made it out of Japan, but we lost track of him somewhere in Singapore. He’s clearly taking the scenic route, trying to put everyone off the scent, but eventually he’s going to have to turn up here to make the drop.”
“Do you know when?”
“I have an idea,” Kame says. He gets out the digital camera again, flicks past the passport photos to the last one he took. It’s green tinged from the night setting, but the words are clear.
He slides off the bed and walks over to Jin, holds the camera down in front of his face. “I found this written in the back of a notebook inside the safe. I’ve got someone checking into the phone number. If the numbers up front refer to a date, that would be two days from now.”
“6734,” Jin reads, frowning at the handwriting.
“I’m not sure about that part yet,” Kame says. “Still looking into it.”
Jin takes the camera and leans back against the back of the couch-starts flicking a finger over the screen, flipping through the passport pictures. “Do we know what these are for?”
Kame sits down on the arm of the sofa, looking over his shoulder. “They’re all Tsai’s, as far as I can tell, though the pictures are pretty nondescript. We were already aware of some of the names, but a few of them are new.”
“Did you send these to the guys too?”
Kame shakes his head. “Not yet. Do you think I should have?”
“It might help. If they can cross-reference any of them with the number, I mean. Then again, sending the pictures could be risky. We could show them around and do some groundwork first.”
“That was my thought, too.”
Jin looks up at him, a little bit of a smile pulling at his lips. Kame realizes he’s leaned in further than he meant to again. Straightens up.
He really fucking hates it, that snap back to reality. Stings every time.
“We should get some sleep,” he says, getting to his feet again. For a moment he’s not sure where he’s going, just knows he doesn’t want to see that quiet little smirk on Jin’s face again. Like he’s got something on him, sees something Kame doesn’t want to show. It gets under his skin. Too close.
The bathroom. He goes into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. Even in here the light is too bright, and he doesn’t really want to look in the mirror. Doesn’t want to know what he would find there.
By the time he gets back out to the bedroom, Jin has turned down the lights and rooted through Kame’s drawers to snag a fresh pair of shorts. He notices Kame looking and gives him an easy look in return. “I’m cool sleeping naked if you prefer,” he says.
Kame gets a quick flashback or two, sleeping naked with Jin. Waking up naked with Jin.
He swallows.
“No,” he says stiffly. “Help yourself.”
As Jin crawls under the covers, Kame strips down to his boxers as well and makes his way to the other side of the bed. Cool and efficient. He could make Jin sleep on the floor, or the couch, he supposes-but he doesn’t. It doesn’t matter.
Kame turns off the light. Nobody says goodnight.
~ $ ~ $ ~ $ ~
There’s a bird singing somewhere, right next to Kame’s ear. He waves a hand at it, tries to shoo it away and turn his face deeper into the pillow-but then there’s a soft clunk that wakes him up the rest of the way, and he realizes it’s not a bird. It’s a phone.
He leans over the edge of the bed and picks his cellphone up off the floor. The call claims to be coming from an unknown number, but Kame knows who it is. There aren’t many people it could be.
“Did you find it?” he says, by way of a greeting. He’s still blinking the scratchiness out of his eyes, pushing himself up to sit.
“Unfortunately not,” Nakamaru’s voice answers. “The phone number is a dead end. It seems to have been a throwaway-not currently in service, and we haven’t been able to find any information on who might have once owned it.”
“Damn,” Kame sighs. There’s a soft snuffle beside him, a rustle as Jin shifts over onto his stomach and pulls the duvet up to his cheek. Kame puts a hand over the mouthpiece until it stops.
“We think you’re right about the first few numbers being a date, but we haven’t had much luck with the second set of numbers,” Nakamaru continues. “We thought it might be a flight number or something, but we haven’t been able to match it up with any known flights, trains, or ships scheduled to arrive in or depart from Hong Kong on that date. We’ll try widening the search just in case the date assumption is faulty or this is some intermediate leg of the trip, but we might just be barking up the wrong tree.”
“Hmm,” Kame mumbles. “Yeah, okay-keep trying. Let me know if you find anything.”
“Will do.”
Kame hangs up the phone and puts it back on top of the nightstand. He glances over at Jin again, a long, tangled lump stretched out beside him, one leg drifting across the center line and into Kame’s space. It stirs something deep inside him, reminds him of yesterday and their little…slip.
It’s getting harder to remember that Jin can’t be trusted, especially when he sleeps so peacefully. Maybe it’s Kame’s memory playing tricks on him, but even back then he doesn’t remember Jin looking so vulnerable and unsuspecting in sleep. So… ordinary.
Where the fuck has he been all this time?
They wouldn’t tell him much. Just that Jin was gone and it was in everyone’s best interests to forget that he had ever existed. His files were deleted from the database, all the codes reissued, everything wiped clean. It was only through a few outside contacts and the company grapevine that Kame had pieced together that Jin had left the country, apparently to work for some foreign interest with deeper pockets than the agency’s. But the trail ended at the border. He’d never been able to pin down who these foreign interests were, or what they’d offered him-what they could possibly have offered Jin to make him betray everyone he knew.
After a year or so, he’d stopped looking. Even if he’d been able to find out, it wouldn’t have told him what he really wanted to know.
The duvet stirs again, dipping and rising as Jin twists underneath it. Kame looks away just as Jin’s arms emerge and push it away from his face.
“Good morning,” Jin says. Kame can hear the smile, but he refuses to acknowledge it.
“No luck with the phone number,” Kame says instead. His fingers are itching for a cigarette. He’s cut way back this past year, doesn’t even carry them anymore, but his body seems to have forgotten that. “They’re still working on the other stuff.”
There’s a little sigh into the duvet, a tilting and shuddering of the mattress as Jin pushes himself up to sit against the headboard. Kame keeps his eyes front, doesn’t watch Jin push the hair out of his sleepy eyes or stretch against the pillows.
“We can shop that around too, see if anybody knows anything.”
Kame nods. “Yeah, we’re going to have to.”
There’s a moment of silence. Kame can feel Jin’s eyes on him. He can feel them, but he can’t turn around. He won’t turn around.
“I can lie low here if you want,” Jin says. “If that would be easier.”
It probably would. No awkward questions he doesn’t know the answers too, and probably couldn’t answer if he did. He really shouldn’t be dealing with Jin at all, much less making the rounds with him, granting him legitimacy. The people they’ll be talking to don’t have direct ties to the agency, but who knows who else they might be dealing with.
“It’s fine,” he says. “I need a shower. Get dressed.”
~ $ ~ $ ~ $ ~
They stop off at Jin’s hotel on the way-a narrow, cramped little business hotel near the train station. Kame can smell the sex on Jin’s suit as they get out of Kame’s rental car and step onto the sidewalk. Fortunately there’s nobody else around to notice, and the hotel lobby is dim, empty. There’s only a cramped elevator ride and a narrow hallway before they find themselves in Jin’s room.
The room is tiny, but functional. There’s a small desk with a backpack and a few stray clothes draped over it, a toothbrush perched on the corner. Jin digs through the backpack and pulls out a fresh pair of jeans and a t-shirt. “Just a sec,” he murmurs, and slips into the bathroom to wash up.
The bed looks slept in-the do-not-disturb sign was on the door, so clearly Jin didn’t want anyone in here. Knowing Jin, that could be sheer laziness-it doesn’t look like there’s anything particularly worthy of hiding in here. Kame moves over to the desk and starts searching the backpack-clothes, a small laptop, a few toiletries, a slightly squashed snack bar. He checks the lining, anything padded or thicker, but there’s no sign of any concealed weapons or equipment.
Weird. Not only did he not bring any hardware to the party-he doesn’t seem to have anything on him at all.
He pushes the bag aside and starts searching through the pile of things strewn across the desk. Checks all the drawers, the insides of the lampshades, under the bed. Other than the fact that the housekeeping service needs to be a bit more thorough, he doesn’t find anything of interest. Jin might as well be some random backpacker on a gap year trip.
When he hears the knob on the bathroom door turning, Kame moves back toward the entrance. He tries to stay out of the way as Jin moves over to the desk again and starts pulling his things together.
“Find anything interesting?” Jin asks, folding and stuffing a t-shirt into a deep corner of the backpack.
Kame shifts slightly, caught. “Nothing in particular,” he replies. No point in pretending.
Jin glances over at him, an amused little smile tugging at his lips. “You believe me yet?”
Kame gives him a sharp look. Ignores the question. “Have you finished packing up? We need to get going.”
Jin checks himself out of the hotel on the way out, backpack slung over one shoulder. Once they get back to the car, he tosses the backpack into the trunk. Kame starts the car as soon as Jin sinks into the passenger seat, pulling out into traffic while Jin is still fumbling with the seatbelt.
“So, where are we headed first?” Jin asks.
“Red light district,” Kame says.
“Cool,” Jin murmurs.
There’s an expectant pause.
“Want to tell me where in particular?”
Kame keeps his eyes on the road. Doesn’t answer.
There’s a tilty little nod in the corner of his vision. Jin’s eyes flick toward the window as they come to a stoplight.
They carry on in silence for a couple of blocks, the engine rumbling underneath them as Kame shifts gears, signals a turn away from the main road.
There’s a little twitch in Jin’s fingers where they rest on the center console, and Kame knows that gesture. Knows this silence. There’s something in there, in Jin’s fingertips, in his chest, burning to get out.
They pull up to another set of stoplights.
“Okay, so, I know you think I’m the devil incarnate and all, but are you planning on lightening the fuck up any time soon?” Jin grumbles.
Kame shoots a glance over at him. Jin looks annoyed. “Excuse me?”
“I let you handcuff me, kick the shit out of me, search my suit, search my room, and come in my mouth-exactly what else do I need to do to convince you that I am not a threat to you?”
Jin’s irritation and the reminder send a prickle down Kame’s spine. It helps when he glances over and can see the slightest flush running down the side of Jin’s throat. Only a little though.
Kame doesn’t know what to say.
He knows. He knows that Jin is doing all the right things, that there is absolutely nothing here to suggest that he’s anything other than what he seems to be. But that’s just it.
He did all the right things before. Back then. Kame knew Jin better than anyone else in the world, trusted him with his life-and it all turned out to be a lie.
“I don’t know how I can trust you anymore,” Kame says.
“Then why the fuck am I here?”
“Because I can’t leave you alone!” Kame snaps.
Jin goes quiet. Kame can feel Jin’s eyes on him, heavy and searching.
“Is that really all it is?” he asks.
Kame swallows. Jin’s voice is quiet, and he hasn’t moved, hasn’t gotten any closer, but somehow Kame still feels it like a whisper on the back of his neck.
Kame doesn’t answer.
Eventually, Jin breathes a small sigh. “Look, you don’t have to trust me,” he says, just as quietly. “I get why that’s not… I get it, okay. But, I’m here. We both want the same thing, and you know we’ve got a better shot at getting it if we work together. So just… work with me on this. Let me help.”
Kame glances over at him again.
Jin is right-he knows that. Trust is not an expectation in this business-Kame works with people he doesn’t trust every day, that’s part of the job. You can’t find out where the bodies are buried if you’re only willing to talk to Sunday school teachers. You get what you need from someone and you watch your back, and then you get on with your day. That’s how it goes.
But this… this is different. Jin used to be the one to watch Kame’s back. Kame doesn’t know how to deal with him like he’s just any other contact, how to let him close enough without letting him too close.
Jin was always too close.
“I’ll try,” he says.
The streets get narrower as they make their way into the rougher part of town. The corners get stranger, better suited to foot traffic than car traffic. Once they’re as close as they’re going to get, Kame finds a space to park and turns off the car.
It’s been a while since he’s been to this area in person, and some of the shops have changed hands in the meantime, but the layout is still familiar. They take a left off of the main street and into a slanted side street full of antique shops and adult video stores, down a little further before they take another right. Halfway down the block, they follow an unobtrusive set of concrete stairs at the foot of a nondescript concrete apartment building down to the shop in the basement. Shitty location if you’re looking for foot traffic, but pretty much ideal if you’re not.
The shop itself is dark, almost dark enough you would think it was closed if it weren’t for the sign on the door. The shelves are covered in old junk, space heaters and kettles and cameras along one wall, jewelry and pottery along another. Off to the right is a short wooden counter with an ancient computer sitting at one end and a tiny dog wrestling with a milkbone at the other.
Jin’s eyes light up when he sees the dog, and he skirts around Kame to go say hello. As soon as the dog is distracted from his milkbone, her little tail starts wagging furiously, feet twitching anxiously on the wooden counter. When Jin reaches out to pat her between the ears, he’s attacked by a flurry of yips and licks, all up and down his forearm.
“Sakura, what the hell-”
Koki ducks under the curtain in the doorway from the back room and stops. His look sours slightly at the sight of Jin playing with the dog.
“Ah, shit…”
Jin gives him a bland look. “Nice to see you too.”
Koki steps over to the counter and scoops the restless dog up into his arms. He gathers up the crumbled remains of the milkbone in his free hand and feeds them to her to win back her attention. The crumbles crunch, crunch, crunch between her teeth, her little paws still twitching in midair with each tail wag.
Koki’s eyes shift from Jin to Kame and back again, but he doesn’t voice the question aloud. Good thing, because Kame doesn’t want to answer it.
“We need your help with something,” Kame says, taking a step forward and pulling the digital camera from his pocket. Koki still throws Jin another curious glance, but then steps closer to Kame’s shoulder to look at what Kame is showing him. “We’re trying to figure out what these numbers mean. Does any of it ring a bell at first glance?”
Koki peers down at the image, fingertips twitching on the dog’s head. After a moment, he shakes his head. “Not really. Can you give me any more detail?”
Kame nods. “We’re pretty sure the phone number is disconnected, and we think that first part is a date, but the middle part we’re not sure about. We’re hoping it will lead us to a certain delivery that’s expected to arrive in town within the next week or so.”
Koki lifts his chin in a slow nod, like he’s finally caught on. “Riiight-I was wondering when one of you guys would start sticking your fingers in that one.”
“You know about the key?” Jin says.
Kame gives him a look that says, Shut up.
Jin lifts his shoulders. What? He already knew.
“Of course I know about the key,” Koki says, glancing from one to the other of them like they’re idiots. “Everybody knows about the fucking key. You guys are getting slow.”
Jin opens his mouth to speak again, but Kame cuts him off. “It’s important that we intercept it at all costs. Do you have any idea when it’s supposed to arrive?”
Koki shakes his head. “Sorry, man. They’re playing that one pretty close to the vest, I haven’t come across any of the specifics. That number in the middle there, though,” he points to the four digits on the screen, “have you checked that against the travel logs?”
Kame nods. “We weren’t able to find a match. Not for this date and location, anyway. Maybe it’s an intermediate leg of the trip or something.”
Koki shakes his head and turns away to place the dog in the little dog bed in the corner behind him. “No, not the public logs-the black market logs,” he says. He steps over to the computer and types a few keys to wake it up, logs into the software. “With all the new regs and things these days, the ships that run contraband into port have started keeping a separate set of logs with rotating vessel numbers, so they can keep track of what’s where without showing up on anyone’s radar. I can’t give you the codes to translate everything, obviously, but if I’m right…”
“You can tell us the real ship number?” Jin says.
Koki gives him an annoyed look. “If I’m right, yeah.”
Kame glares at Jin. Shh.
Jin’s eyes widen slightly in response. What? It was just a question.
Kame turns his attention back to Koki, who is currently tapping away at the computer. A few more codes entered and a few more pages clicked through, until finally Koki’s eyes light up.
“Ha! Got it-it’s right here, just a sec.” Koki fumbles in the snoopy mug to his left for a pen with a skeleton dangling from the end, and grabs a small slip of paper from the stack to his right. He scribbles down the number from the screen and hands it to Kame.
1328, dock 23, 3:25pm
“This is it?” Kame says, taking the paper from him. “The real thing?”
Koki nods. “Should be. That’s one of the larger container ships, does the round trip between here and Mumbai. They sometimes take on passengers, and they don’t tend to ask a lot of questions. Strictly a cash business. I don’t have any specific information on this dude or anything, but if I were dealing in dark shit like this, that’s how I’d do it.”
“Takes one to know one,” Jin mutters.
“You want to get into it, Akanishi?” Koki mutters back. “Cause I’d be more than happy to wipe the floor with you.”
Kame takes a subtle step in front of Jin, placing himself between them. More reasons he should have left Jin at the fucking hotel. “Thank you so much,” he says to Koki, ignoring Jin’s irritated attempts to inch around him. “This is a huge help, we really appreciate it. If you hear anything more on this, you know how to get in touch, right?”
“Sure do,” Koki says, with a smile. He shoots Jin a quick evil look over Kame’s shoulder-and because Jin is an idiot, it works. “Take care.”
“Thanks,” Kame says with a smile. And then he grabs Jin firmly by the arm and leads him out the door, and back up the concrete steps.
“That guy is such a dick,” Jin grumbles, jerking his elbow out of Kame’s grip. “I don’t know why you put up with him.”
“I put up with you,” Kame points out.
“Fuck off.”
“And he gives me what I need.”
Jin stops right in front of Kame on the sidewalk and glares at him. “Fuck. Off.”
Kame tilts his head and gives Jin a mild smile. “You wanted me to lighten the fuck up,” he says. And then he steps around Jin and continues walking toward the car. “Hurry up. We’ve still got shit to do.”
~ $ ~ $ ~ $ ~
“Aww, maaaaan,” Jin whines when he realizes where they are.
Kame shifts the car into reverse and twists around to look back over the passenger’s seat, steering carefully to avoid the silver Mercedes that’s parked a little too close.
“He knows people,” Kame says, still not taking his eyes off the Mercedes, the curb, the lamppost.
“He’s a creepy son of a bitch.”
“Yeah,” Kame concedes. “And he knows people.”
Jin looks prepared to argue the point further when Kame finally turns off the car, but Kame doesn’t give him the opportunity. “You can stay in the car if you want. I’ll be back in five minutes.”
Jin shoots him a heavy glare. Kame can practically see the battle waging between his desire not to go inside, and his stubborn compulsion to prove he can cope with anything Kame can cope with.
He gets out of the car. Grumbling to himself about stupid, useless, pointless, some such.
“We already know when the ship is arriving,” Jin argues as he follows Kame up the metal outer stairwell. “Why do we even need this guy?”
“Because we don’t know who the fuck we’re looking for, Jin. What do you want to do, hold the entire crew hostage and strip search them?”
When they get to the second floor, Kame comes to a stop beside a large, blacked-out window and bangs the side of his fist against the frame, two times. Nothing happens for a moment or two. Eventually there’s a little creak, and the window is pulled open haltingly, high enough for a guy in a black leather jacket to stick his head out over the sill.
“Something I can help you with?” the guy says, in accented Chinese.
“Iriguchi deguchi Taguchi desu,“ Kame says.
The guy doesn’t blink. Just looks him up and down, like he’s checking for hidden weapons. Sweeps his eyes over Jin as well.
“Step inside,” the guy says, in Japanese this time, jerking his head toward the dark interior. “I’ll see if he’s in.”
The guy opens the window a little bit further by way of invitation, and then moves away into the dark. Kame crouches down and steps in through the window, putting a hand on the lower frame to steady himself. The floor inside is a bit lower than the landing outside, a little farther to fall. Once Jin is inside as well, Kame slides the window closed.
The blackout film on the window doesn’t completely prevent light from entering from the outside-which is fortunate, because that’s pretty much the only light they’ve got in here. The room is nearly empty, apart from a dusty old receptionist’s desk in the corner and a wooden filing cabinet that looks like it had all the latches broken off half a century ago. If it weren’t for the trail of dusty footprints between the window and the internal door, this would seem to be an abandoned building.
There’s a creak of floorboard somewhere behind them. Kame feels Jin’s body nudge up against his arm, just a little bit. He gives Jin a knowing look, but he’s pretty sure Jin can’t see it in the dark. And anyway, Jin’s attention seems to be on scanning all the dark corners for unseen figures.
When there’s a sudden creak and burst of light, Jin actually swears under his breath and grabs the back of Kame’s shirt, like he’s about to pull him out of danger.
But it’s just the interior door opening again, and a silhouetted figure appearing in the doorway.
“Kazuya!” Taguchi says, in a far too enthusiastic voice. Kame can feel Jin bristle, but he ignores it and leads the way forward.
Taguchi takes Kame’s proffered hand and shakes it firmly. Then reaches for Jin’s too, and Jin reluctantly assents.
“I’m so glad you guys stopped by! It seems like it’s been ages. Didn’t you go overseas or something?” he asks Jin as he leads them into a cosy, well-lit billiard hall. “I feel like I remember hearing something about that. It was a big deal, right?”
He’s got one arm around Jin’s shoulders and the other around Kame’s. Jin looks slightly like he wants to murder him, but Taguchi doesn’t seem phased by the tight smile, or the noncommittal reply.
When they reach the billiard table at the back of the hall, where seven other guys in dark suits are standing at attention, Taguchi claps both of them on the back and releases them. “So,” he says as he strides around the end of the table and accepts a cue from the guy at the corner. “What can I do you for?”
He’s not even looking at them anymore, already surveying the table and lining up the next shot.
“We were hoping you could give us some information on someone. Nothing too sensitive,” Kame says. “We just want to know who we’re dealing with.”
There’s a clatter as Taguchi takes his shot, scatters several balls in different directions. Two of them roll into the far corner pockets. The cue ball spins toward the side, stopping just short of a scratch.
“What have you got on them?” Taguchi asks, glancing at Kame again as he rounds the corner to where the cue ball is, looking for another shot.
“The person we’re looking for is currently working for Tsai Wei,” Kame says. “Running a package for him. One of the aliases he was using was Yamada Ken, but we think it’s unlikely that’s his real name.”
Taguchi’s lips quirk upwards slightly as he lines up the next shot. There’s something a little bit too precise in his aim, a little too smooth in the smirk. Just for a moment.
Sometimes it’s too easy to forget that this guy can take someone out from 100 yards, if the price is right.
Another clatter, and three more balls slot themselves into place.
“Makino Daichi,” Taguchi says, straightening up and leaning languorously against his cue. “He’s a small-time yakuza grunt who got fed up, decided he wasn’t getting paid enough to knock teeth in. Now he’s a smuggler for hire, running the Shanghai circuit.”
“Do you know what he looks like?” Jin asks.
“I don’t keep a photo album,” Taguchi shrugs. He picks up his cue again and starts wandering around the table, glancing back and forth between the fifteen ball at one end and the eight ball at the other. “You’ll recognize him though. He’s got a pretty bad scar down the lefthand side of his neck. I guess he skimped a bit when he was trying to get his tattoos removed.”
He bends down and lines up the shot. The fifteen snaps straight into the pocket, and the cue ball ricochets in a sharp square before nudging the eight ball in as well.
“Also, he’s short,” Taguchi continues, straightening up. He gestures toward Kame with the cue. “Like about your height.”
Kame tries very hard not to kill him with his eyes. “Thanks,” he says tightly. “That’s very helpful.”
Taguchi grins brightly. “No worries!”
~ $ ~ $ ~ $ ~
Part 3
By the time Jin gets out of the shower, Kame is off the phone again. He’s got his laptop spread out on the bed with the flash drive stuck in the side, and he’s sifting through file after file with an analyzer, trying to see if any data fragments were actually successfully decrypted. So far, there’s nothing.
“Anything interesting?” Jin says, rubbing at his hair with a small hand towel. The larger towel is wrapped low around his hips. Kame glances up at him briefly.
“Not much,” he says.
Jin drops onto the couch and tucks his hands behind his head. The ends of the towel gap over his left knee, the corner sliding down between his legs. “Yeah, that’s what it looked like to me too. One thing is for sure though, he was definitely trying to crack his way in. I recovered like two-hundred bad attempts. Pretty sure they were all the same thing.”
“That’s what I’m seeing here,” Kame says, nodding. “Identical file sizes, same first and last digits in the encrypted form. Just nothing that makes any kind of sense.”
“That means he doesn’t have it then.” Jin sounds thoughtful. A bit relieved.
Kame glances up at him again to find Jin staring up at the ceiling. “What exactly do you know about all this?” he asks.
Jin glances over at him again and smiles a bit. Seems more cooperative, now that Kame isn’t pointing a gun in his face.
“I know that that file,” he motions toward the computer with his chin, “contains a chemical formula strong enough to get the attention of biological weapons manufacturers all over the world. I know that without the encryption key, that file is basically worthless. And I know that Tsai has been trying to shop the file around, but no one is buying because he doesn’t have the key.”
Kame watches him across the room. He’s not sure if he would recognize a lie from Jin anymore, but so far it’s all true. No way of knowing if it’s the whole truth though.
“A better question,” Jin says, ruffling his wet hair between his hands and leaning forward on his elbows, “is what exactly do you know about all this?”
“Who are you working for?” Kame asks again.
Jin shakes his head slowly. “I told you, I’m not working for anyone. This one is strictly pro-bono.”
Kame frowns. “Why? What do you care?”
“I still live in the world, Kame,” Jin says, sounding a little bit affronted. “That thing is dangerous. I don’t want it to fall into the wrong hands if there’s anything I can do to stop it.”
“But how the hell did you even find out about this?”
“I still have my connections,” he says, with a little shrug. “I didn’t cut ties with everybody when I left.”
“Just with me,” Kame says blandly.
Jin looks at him again. He looks a bit like he wishes he could take that back. But why bother, when it’s true.
Whatever. Jin’s reasons are his reasons, and if there’s someone somewhere out there still willing to talk to him after what he did, then good for him. They can have him.
Kame turns back to the computer, flicking open another file. The same rows of numbers, the same mangled characters, the same signs of tampering.
“The key is on its way,” he says, not looking up at Jin again. “The encryption key can’t be copied intact, so it has to be transported by hand. The hard drive was stolen from the lab last week, and we know Tsai’s operative made it out of Japan, but we lost track of him somewhere in Singapore. He’s clearly taking the scenic route, trying to put everyone off the scent, but eventually he’s going to have to turn up here to make the drop.”
“Do you know when?”
“I have an idea,” Kame says. He gets out the digital camera again, flicks past the passport photos to the last one he took. It’s green tinged from the night setting, but the words are clear.
He slides off the bed and walks over to Jin, holds the camera down in front of his face. “I found this written in the back of a notebook inside the safe. I’ve got someone checking into the phone number. If the numbers up front refer to a date, that would be two days from now.”
“6734,” Jin reads, frowning at the handwriting.
“I’m not sure about that part yet,” Kame says. “Still looking into it.”
Jin takes the camera and leans back against the back of the couch-starts flicking a finger over the screen, flipping through the passport pictures. “Do we know what these are for?”
Kame sits down on the arm of the sofa, looking over his shoulder. “They’re all Tsai’s, as far as I can tell, though the pictures are pretty nondescript. We were already aware of some of the names, but a few of them are new.”
“Did you send these to the guys too?”
Kame shakes his head. “Not yet. Do you think I should have?”
“It might help. If they can cross-reference any of them with the number, I mean. Then again, sending the pictures could be risky. We could show them around and do some groundwork first.”
“That was my thought, too.”
Jin looks up at him, a little bit of a smile pulling at his lips. Kame realizes he’s leaned in further than he meant to again. Straightens up.
He really fucking hates it, that snap back to reality. Stings every time.
“We should get some sleep,” he says, getting to his feet again. For a moment he’s not sure where he’s going, just knows he doesn’t want to see that quiet little smirk on Jin’s face again. Like he’s got something on him, sees something Kame doesn’t want to show. It gets under his skin. Too close.
The bathroom. He goes into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. Even in here the light is too bright, and he doesn’t really want to look in the mirror. Doesn’t want to know what he would find there.
By the time he gets back out to the bedroom, Jin has turned down the lights and rooted through Kame’s drawers to snag a fresh pair of shorts. He notices Kame looking and gives him an easy look in return. “I’m cool sleeping naked if you prefer,” he says.
Kame gets a quick flashback or two, sleeping naked with Jin. Waking up naked with Jin.
He swallows.
“No,” he says stiffly. “Help yourself.”
As Jin crawls under the covers, Kame strips down to his boxers as well and makes his way to the other side of the bed. Cool and efficient. He could make Jin sleep on the floor, or the couch, he supposes-but he doesn’t. It doesn’t matter.
Kame turns off the light. Nobody says goodnight.
~ $ ~ $ ~ $ ~
There’s a bird singing somewhere, right next to Kame’s ear. He waves a hand at it, tries to shoo it away and turn his face deeper into the pillow-but then there’s a soft clunk that wakes him up the rest of the way, and he realizes it’s not a bird. It’s a phone.
He leans over the edge of the bed and picks his cellphone up off the floor. The call claims to be coming from an unknown number, but Kame knows who it is. There aren’t many people it could be.
“Did you find it?” he says, by way of a greeting. He’s still blinking the scratchiness out of his eyes, pushing himself up to sit.
“Unfortunately not,” Nakamaru’s voice answers. “The phone number is a dead end. It seems to have been a throwaway-not currently in service, and we haven’t been able to find any information on who might have once owned it.”
“Damn,” Kame sighs. There’s a soft snuffle beside him, a rustle as Jin shifts over onto his stomach and pulls the duvet up to his cheek. Kame puts a hand over the mouthpiece until it stops.
“We think you’re right about the first few numbers being a date, but we haven’t had much luck with the second set of numbers,” Nakamaru continues. “We thought it might be a flight number or something, but we haven’t been able to match it up with any known flights, trains, or ships scheduled to arrive in or depart from Hong Kong on that date. We’ll try widening the search just in case the date assumption is faulty or this is some intermediate leg of the trip, but we might just be barking up the wrong tree.”
“Hmm,” Kame mumbles. “Yeah, okay-keep trying. Let me know if you find anything.”
“Will do.”
Kame hangs up the phone and puts it back on top of the nightstand. He glances over at Jin again, a long, tangled lump stretched out beside him, one leg drifting across the center line and into Kame’s space. It stirs something deep inside him, reminds him of yesterday and their little…slip.
It’s getting harder to remember that Jin can’t be trusted, especially when he sleeps so peacefully. Maybe it’s Kame’s memory playing tricks on him, but even back then he doesn’t remember Jin looking so vulnerable and unsuspecting in sleep. So… ordinary.
Where the fuck has he been all this time?
They wouldn’t tell him much. Just that Jin was gone and it was in everyone’s best interests to forget that he had ever existed. His files were deleted from the database, all the codes reissued, everything wiped clean. It was only through a few outside contacts and the company grapevine that Kame had pieced together that Jin had left the country, apparently to work for some foreign interest with deeper pockets than the agency’s. But the trail ended at the border. He’d never been able to pin down who these foreign interests were, or what they’d offered him-what they could possibly have offered Jin to make him betray everyone he knew.
After a year or so, he’d stopped looking. Even if he’d been able to find out, it wouldn’t have told him what he really wanted to know.
The duvet stirs again, dipping and rising as Jin twists underneath it. Kame looks away just as Jin’s arms emerge and push it away from his face.
“Good morning,” Jin says. Kame can hear the smile, but he refuses to acknowledge it.
“No luck with the phone number,” Kame says instead. His fingers are itching for a cigarette. He’s cut way back this past year, doesn’t even carry them anymore, but his body seems to have forgotten that. “They’re still working on the other stuff.”
There’s a little sigh into the duvet, a tilting and shuddering of the mattress as Jin pushes himself up to sit against the headboard. Kame keeps his eyes front, doesn’t watch Jin push the hair out of his sleepy eyes or stretch against the pillows.
“We can shop that around too, see if anybody knows anything.”
Kame nods. “Yeah, we’re going to have to.”
There’s a moment of silence. Kame can feel Jin’s eyes on him. He can feel them, but he can’t turn around. He won’t turn around.
“I can lie low here if you want,” Jin says. “If that would be easier.”
It probably would. No awkward questions he doesn’t know the answers too, and probably couldn’t answer if he did. He really shouldn’t be dealing with Jin at all, much less making the rounds with him, granting him legitimacy. The people they’ll be talking to don’t have direct ties to the agency, but who knows who else they might be dealing with.
“It’s fine,” he says. “I need a shower. Get dressed.”
~ $ ~ $ ~ $ ~
They stop off at Jin’s hotel on the way-a narrow, cramped little business hotel near the train station. Kame can smell the sex on Jin’s suit as they get out of Kame’s rental car and step onto the sidewalk. Fortunately there’s nobody else around to notice, and the hotel lobby is dim, empty. There’s only a cramped elevator ride and a narrow hallway before they find themselves in Jin’s room.
The room is tiny, but functional. There’s a small desk with a backpack and a few stray clothes draped over it, a toothbrush perched on the corner. Jin digs through the backpack and pulls out a fresh pair of jeans and a t-shirt. “Just a sec,” he murmurs, and slips into the bathroom to wash up.
The bed looks slept in-the do-not-disturb sign was on the door, so clearly Jin didn’t want anyone in here. Knowing Jin, that could be sheer laziness-it doesn’t look like there’s anything particularly worthy of hiding in here. Kame moves over to the desk and starts searching the backpack-clothes, a small laptop, a few toiletries, a slightly squashed snack bar. He checks the lining, anything padded or thicker, but there’s no sign of any concealed weapons or equipment.
Weird. Not only did he not bring any hardware to the party-he doesn’t seem to have anything on him at all.
He pushes the bag aside and starts searching through the pile of things strewn across the desk. Checks all the drawers, the insides of the lampshades, under the bed. Other than the fact that the housekeeping service needs to be a bit more thorough, he doesn’t find anything of interest. Jin might as well be some random backpacker on a gap year trip.
When he hears the knob on the bathroom door turning, Kame moves back toward the entrance. He tries to stay out of the way as Jin moves over to the desk again and starts pulling his things together.
“Find anything interesting?” Jin asks, folding and stuffing a t-shirt into a deep corner of the backpack.
Kame shifts slightly, caught. “Nothing in particular,” he replies. No point in pretending.
Jin glances over at him, an amused little smile tugging at his lips. “You believe me yet?”
Kame gives him a sharp look. Ignores the question. “Have you finished packing up? We need to get going.”
Jin checks himself out of the hotel on the way out, backpack slung over one shoulder. Once they get back to the car, he tosses the backpack into the trunk. Kame starts the car as soon as Jin sinks into the passenger seat, pulling out into traffic while Jin is still fumbling with the seatbelt.
“So, where are we headed first?” Jin asks.
“Red light district,” Kame says.
“Cool,” Jin murmurs.
There’s an expectant pause.
“Want to tell me where in particular?”
Kame keeps his eyes on the road. Doesn’t answer.
There’s a tilty little nod in the corner of his vision. Jin’s eyes flick toward the window as they come to a stoplight.
They carry on in silence for a couple of blocks, the engine rumbling underneath them as Kame shifts gears, signals a turn away from the main road.
There’s a little twitch in Jin’s fingers where they rest on the center console, and Kame knows that gesture. Knows this silence. There’s something in there, in Jin’s fingertips, in his chest, burning to get out.
They pull up to another set of stoplights.
“Okay, so, I know you think I’m the devil incarnate and all, but are you planning on lightening the fuck up any time soon?” Jin grumbles.
Kame shoots a glance over at him. Jin looks annoyed. “Excuse me?”
“I let you handcuff me, kick the shit out of me, search my suit, search my room, and come in my mouth-exactly what else do I need to do to convince you that I am not a threat to you?”
Jin’s irritation and the reminder send a prickle down Kame’s spine. It helps when he glances over and can see the slightest flush running down the side of Jin’s throat. Only a little though.
Kame doesn’t know what to say.
He knows. He knows that Jin is doing all the right things, that there is absolutely nothing here to suggest that he’s anything other than what he seems to be. But that’s just it.
He did all the right things before. Back then. Kame knew Jin better than anyone else in the world, trusted him with his life-and it all turned out to be a lie.
“I don’t know how I can trust you anymore,” Kame says.
“Then why the fuck am I here?”
“Because I can’t leave you alone!” Kame snaps.
Jin goes quiet. Kame can feel Jin’s eyes on him, heavy and searching.
“Is that really all it is?” he asks.
Kame swallows. Jin’s voice is quiet, and he hasn’t moved, hasn’t gotten any closer, but somehow Kame still feels it like a whisper on the back of his neck.
Kame doesn’t answer.
Eventually, Jin breathes a small sigh. “Look, you don’t have to trust me,” he says, just as quietly. “I get why that’s not… I get it, okay. But, I’m here. We both want the same thing, and you know we’ve got a better shot at getting it if we work together. So just… work with me on this. Let me help.”
Kame glances over at him again.
Jin is right-he knows that. Trust is not an expectation in this business-Kame works with people he doesn’t trust every day, that’s part of the job. You can’t find out where the bodies are buried if you’re only willing to talk to Sunday school teachers. You get what you need from someone and you watch your back, and then you get on with your day. That’s how it goes.
But this… this is different. Jin used to be the one to watch Kame’s back. Kame doesn’t know how to deal with him like he’s just any other contact, how to let him close enough without letting him too close.
Jin was always too close.
“I’ll try,” he says.
The streets get narrower as they make their way into the rougher part of town. The corners get stranger, better suited to foot traffic than car traffic. Once they’re as close as they’re going to get, Kame finds a space to park and turns off the car.
It’s been a while since he’s been to this area in person, and some of the shops have changed hands in the meantime, but the layout is still familiar. They take a left off of the main street and into a slanted side street full of antique shops and adult video stores, down a little further before they take another right. Halfway down the block, they follow an unobtrusive set of concrete stairs at the foot of a nondescript concrete apartment building down to the shop in the basement. Shitty location if you’re looking for foot traffic, but pretty much ideal if you’re not.
The shop itself is dark, almost dark enough you would think it was closed if it weren’t for the sign on the door. The shelves are covered in old junk, space heaters and kettles and cameras along one wall, jewelry and pottery along another. Off to the right is a short wooden counter with an ancient computer sitting at one end and a tiny dog wrestling with a milkbone at the other.
Jin’s eyes light up when he sees the dog, and he skirts around Kame to go say hello. As soon as the dog is distracted from his milkbone, her little tail starts wagging furiously, feet twitching anxiously on the wooden counter. When Jin reaches out to pat her between the ears, he’s attacked by a flurry of yips and licks, all up and down his forearm.
“Sakura, what the hell-”
Koki ducks under the curtain in the doorway from the back room and stops. His look sours slightly at the sight of Jin playing with the dog.
“Ah, shit…”
Jin gives him a bland look. “Nice to see you too.”
Koki steps over to the counter and scoops the restless dog up into his arms. He gathers up the crumbled remains of the milkbone in his free hand and feeds them to her to win back her attention. The crumbles crunch, crunch, crunch between her teeth, her little paws still twitching in midair with each tail wag.
Koki’s eyes shift from Jin to Kame and back again, but he doesn’t voice the question aloud. Good thing, because Kame doesn’t want to answer it.
“We need your help with something,” Kame says, taking a step forward and pulling the digital camera from his pocket. Koki still throws Jin another curious glance, but then steps closer to Kame’s shoulder to look at what Kame is showing him. “We’re trying to figure out what these numbers mean. Does any of it ring a bell at first glance?”
Koki peers down at the image, fingertips twitching on the dog’s head. After a moment, he shakes his head. “Not really. Can you give me any more detail?”
Kame nods. “We’re pretty sure the phone number is disconnected, and we think that first part is a date, but the middle part we’re not sure about. We’re hoping it will lead us to a certain delivery that’s expected to arrive in town within the next week or so.”
Koki lifts his chin in a slow nod, like he’s finally caught on. “Riiight-I was wondering when one of you guys would start sticking your fingers in that one.”
“You know about the key?” Jin says.
Kame gives him a look that says, Shut up.
Jin lifts his shoulders. What? He already knew.
“Of course I know about the key,” Koki says, glancing from one to the other of them like they’re idiots. “Everybody knows about the fucking key. You guys are getting slow.”
Jin opens his mouth to speak again, but Kame cuts him off. “It’s important that we intercept it at all costs. Do you have any idea when it’s supposed to arrive?”
Koki shakes his head. “Sorry, man. They’re playing that one pretty close to the vest, I haven’t come across any of the specifics. That number in the middle there, though,” he points to the four digits on the screen, “have you checked that against the travel logs?”
Kame nods. “We weren’t able to find a match. Not for this date and location, anyway. Maybe it’s an intermediate leg of the trip or something.”
Koki shakes his head and turns away to place the dog in the little dog bed in the corner behind him. “No, not the public logs-the black market logs,” he says. He steps over to the computer and types a few keys to wake it up, logs into the software. “With all the new regs and things these days, the ships that run contraband into port have started keeping a separate set of logs with rotating vessel numbers, so they can keep track of what’s where without showing up on anyone’s radar. I can’t give you the codes to translate everything, obviously, but if I’m right…”
“You can tell us the real ship number?” Jin says.
Koki gives him an annoyed look. “If I’m right, yeah.”
Kame glares at Jin. Shh.
Jin’s eyes widen slightly in response. What? It was just a question.
Kame turns his attention back to Koki, who is currently tapping away at the computer. A few more codes entered and a few more pages clicked through, until finally Koki’s eyes light up.
“Ha! Got it-it’s right here, just a sec.” Koki fumbles in the snoopy mug to his left for a pen with a skeleton dangling from the end, and grabs a small slip of paper from the stack to his right. He scribbles down the number from the screen and hands it to Kame.
1328, dock 23, 3:25pm
“This is it?” Kame says, taking the paper from him. “The real thing?”
Koki nods. “Should be. That’s one of the larger container ships, does the round trip between here and Mumbai. They sometimes take on passengers, and they don’t tend to ask a lot of questions. Strictly a cash business. I don’t have any specific information on this dude or anything, but if I were dealing in dark shit like this, that’s how I’d do it.”
“Takes one to know one,” Jin mutters.
“You want to get into it, Akanishi?” Koki mutters back. “Cause I’d be more than happy to wipe the floor with you.”
Kame takes a subtle step in front of Jin, placing himself between them. More reasons he should have left Jin at the fucking hotel. “Thank you so much,” he says to Koki, ignoring Jin’s irritated attempts to inch around him. “This is a huge help, we really appreciate it. If you hear anything more on this, you know how to get in touch, right?”
“Sure do,” Koki says, with a smile. He shoots Jin a quick evil look over Kame’s shoulder-and because Jin is an idiot, it works. “Take care.”
“Thanks,” Kame says with a smile. And then he grabs Jin firmly by the arm and leads him out the door, and back up the concrete steps.
“That guy is such a dick,” Jin grumbles, jerking his elbow out of Kame’s grip. “I don’t know why you put up with him.”
“I put up with you,” Kame points out.
“Fuck off.”
“And he gives me what I need.”
Jin stops right in front of Kame on the sidewalk and glares at him. “Fuck. Off.”
Kame tilts his head and gives Jin a mild smile. “You wanted me to lighten the fuck up,” he says. And then he steps around Jin and continues walking toward the car. “Hurry up. We’ve still got shit to do.”
~ $ ~ $ ~ $ ~
“Aww, maaaaan,” Jin whines when he realizes where they are.
Kame shifts the car into reverse and twists around to look back over the passenger’s seat, steering carefully to avoid the silver Mercedes that’s parked a little too close.
“He knows people,” Kame says, still not taking his eyes off the Mercedes, the curb, the lamppost.
“He’s a creepy son of a bitch.”
“Yeah,” Kame concedes. “And he knows people.”
Jin looks prepared to argue the point further when Kame finally turns off the car, but Kame doesn’t give him the opportunity. “You can stay in the car if you want. I’ll be back in five minutes.”
Jin shoots him a heavy glare. Kame can practically see the battle waging between his desire not to go inside, and his stubborn compulsion to prove he can cope with anything Kame can cope with.
He gets out of the car. Grumbling to himself about stupid, useless, pointless, some such.
“We already know when the ship is arriving,” Jin argues as he follows Kame up the metal outer stairwell. “Why do we even need this guy?”
“Because we don’t know who the fuck we’re looking for, Jin. What do you want to do, hold the entire crew hostage and strip search them?”
When they get to the second floor, Kame comes to a stop beside a large, blacked-out window and bangs the side of his fist against the frame, two times. Nothing happens for a moment or two. Eventually there’s a little creak, and the window is pulled open haltingly, high enough for a guy in a black leather jacket to stick his head out over the sill.
“Something I can help you with?” the guy says, in accented Chinese.
“Iriguchi deguchi Taguchi desu,“ Kame says.
The guy doesn’t blink. Just looks him up and down, like he’s checking for hidden weapons. Sweeps his eyes over Jin as well.
“Step inside,” the guy says, in Japanese this time, jerking his head toward the dark interior. “I’ll see if he’s in.”
The guy opens the window a little bit further by way of invitation, and then moves away into the dark. Kame crouches down and steps in through the window, putting a hand on the lower frame to steady himself. The floor inside is a bit lower than the landing outside, a little farther to fall. Once Jin is inside as well, Kame slides the window closed.
The blackout film on the window doesn’t completely prevent light from entering from the outside-which is fortunate, because that’s pretty much the only light they’ve got in here. The room is nearly empty, apart from a dusty old receptionist’s desk in the corner and a wooden filing cabinet that looks like it had all the latches broken off half a century ago. If it weren’t for the trail of dusty footprints between the window and the internal door, this would seem to be an abandoned building.
There’s a creak of floorboard somewhere behind them. Kame feels Jin’s body nudge up against his arm, just a little bit. He gives Jin a knowing look, but he’s pretty sure Jin can’t see it in the dark. And anyway, Jin’s attention seems to be on scanning all the dark corners for unseen figures.
When there’s a sudden creak and burst of light, Jin actually swears under his breath and grabs the back of Kame’s shirt, like he’s about to pull him out of danger.
But it’s just the interior door opening again, and a silhouetted figure appearing in the doorway.
“Kazuya!” Taguchi says, in a far too enthusiastic voice. Kame can feel Jin bristle, but he ignores it and leads the way forward.
Taguchi takes Kame’s proffered hand and shakes it firmly. Then reaches for Jin’s too, and Jin reluctantly assents.
“I’m so glad you guys stopped by! It seems like it’s been ages. Didn’t you go overseas or something?” he asks Jin as he leads them into a cosy, well-lit billiard hall. “I feel like I remember hearing something about that. It was a big deal, right?”
He’s got one arm around Jin’s shoulders and the other around Kame’s. Jin looks slightly like he wants to murder him, but Taguchi doesn’t seem phased by the tight smile, or the noncommittal reply.
When they reach the billiard table at the back of the hall, where seven other guys in dark suits are standing at attention, Taguchi claps both of them on the back and releases them. “So,” he says as he strides around the end of the table and accepts a cue from the guy at the corner. “What can I do you for?”
He’s not even looking at them anymore, already surveying the table and lining up the next shot.
“We were hoping you could give us some information on someone. Nothing too sensitive,” Kame says. “We just want to know who we’re dealing with.”
There’s a clatter as Taguchi takes his shot, scatters several balls in different directions. Two of them roll into the far corner pockets. The cue ball spins toward the side, stopping just short of a scratch.
“What have you got on them?” Taguchi asks, glancing at Kame again as he rounds the corner to where the cue ball is, looking for another shot.
“The person we’re looking for is currently working for Tsai Wei,” Kame says. “Running a package for him. One of the aliases he was using was Yamada Ken, but we think it’s unlikely that’s his real name.”
Taguchi’s lips quirk upwards slightly as he lines up the next shot. There’s something a little bit too precise in his aim, a little too smooth in the smirk. Just for a moment.
Sometimes it’s too easy to forget that this guy can take someone out from 100 yards, if the price is right.
Another clatter, and three more balls slot themselves into place.
“Makino Daichi,” Taguchi says, straightening up and leaning languorously against his cue. “He’s a small-time yakuza grunt who got fed up, decided he wasn’t getting paid enough to knock teeth in. Now he’s a smuggler for hire, running the Shanghai circuit.”
“Do you know what he looks like?” Jin asks.
“I don’t keep a photo album,” Taguchi shrugs. He picks up his cue again and starts wandering around the table, glancing back and forth between the fifteen ball at one end and the eight ball at the other. “You’ll recognize him though. He’s got a pretty bad scar down the lefthand side of his neck. I guess he skimped a bit when he was trying to get his tattoos removed.”
He bends down and lines up the shot. The fifteen snaps straight into the pocket, and the cue ball ricochets in a sharp square before nudging the eight ball in as well.
“Also, he’s short,” Taguchi continues, straightening up. He gestures toward Kame with the cue. “Like about your height.”
Kame tries very hard not to kill him with his eyes. “Thanks,” he says tightly. “That’s very helpful.”
Taguchi grins brightly. “No worries!”
~ $ ~ $ ~ $ ~
Part 3