Osaka (3)
Eric Bowman was staring out at the garden, where a fine rain was falling.
Beyond the stone wall, moss-covered lanterns stood in a neat row, and every last branch of the pines had been carefully pruned into the shape of refinement. Just looking at the old-fashioned Japanese garden was enough to tell him how expensive the place really was.
Huu...
Of course, to his eyes, everything here was useless.
The luxurious garden, the Japanese furniture crafted from expensive wood, the hanging scroll in the alcove—
all of it only made him feel like something inside him had been twisting tighter for the past two days.
“Hey, are you even listening? Those goddamn CIA bastards have already caught my scent and started looking for me.”
- I am listening. It would be best to move your residence soon.
Fluent English came through the receiver.
It was Kageyama Toru, the owner of this expensive estate and the boss of the Kageyamagumi.
As always, his voice was dry and emotionless.
Just another bastard with money on the brain.
He was probably only thinking about how much more he could squeeze out of Bowman, too.
Though Bowman was staying here for the moment because the situation was complicated, he did not trust Kageyama in the slightest.
From the start, so-called yakuza were the sort of people you could never truly trust.
“Huu... can’t you move me somewhere else a little faster? I heard there was some suspicious guy prowling around the area last time, too. I’ve been here too long.”
Even with the anxiety in Bowman’s voice, Kageyama did not react.
Instead, after a brief silence, he brought up a different subject.
- The first transfer from the Singapore corporation side has been handled. The remaining second batch will be processed sometime next week.
Business, as always. Money laundering.
The reason the Kageyamagumi was protecting Bowman in the first place was solely because of that.
Because a large amount of the slush funds he managed were being laundered through the Kageyamagumi.
Dammit.
And among them was even former CIA Director Sterling’s own money—the same Sterling who was now being dragged through a congressional hearing.
Along with the illicit funds of the various people who had been backing Sterling.
By now, the CIA probably saw Bowman as a walking honey pot.
“Damn it, I’m telling you this is serious! Do I look like an idiot to the CIA? If those assholes had any brains, they’d already have sent someone here. Hell, it wouldn’t even be weird if a guy with a gun stormed in tonight!”
- Bowman. I am fending off every official CIA request that comes in through CIRO, the Cabinet Intelligence and Research Office of Japan. We’re buying as much time as possible, so try not to worry.
Kageyama answered Bowman’s irritable outburst in his usual calm tone.
- Besides, just in case, I’ve had Miyake assigned to you as well. Don’t fret over useless things. Just stay hidden and keep still. We’re arranging a new place for you.
Click.
The call ended.
Bowman stared blankly at his phone screen for a moment.
Miyake Shinji. That madman’s face surfaced in his mind.
A face cut with a deep scar, with a feral gleam in his eyes. It felt less like protection than surveillance.
Bowman reached into the ashtray and picked up a cigarette.
He lit it and drew the smoke deep into his lungs.
“Huu... goddamn monkeys.”
He muttered it so softly that no one would hear.
The rain was the only thing quietly filling the garden.
***
In a corner of the Islamic center.
Ryan and I were sitting side by side on the carpet.
Around us, people had gathered in twos and threes, speaking in low voices.
Since it wasn’t prayer time, the place felt a bit like a community hall.
“So you just do what they ask after signing the contract?”
“Yes.”
Ryan studied my face for a long moment.
“That doesn’t sound like someone who’d beat the crap out of three yakuza guys.”
“It happened.”
“It happened?”
He snorted.
Whatever was so funny about it drew faint lines around his eyes.
“Pretty fiery. I like it.”
Even while talking, he’d already raised a hand in greeting to someone passing by.
When a person handed him a plastic cup of tea, he accepted it casually with one hand and drank.
Everyone here seemed to like Ryan and think of him as a friend.
At first glance he seemed loose, like a man with a screw or two missing.
And yet there wasn’t a single careless thing about the way he spoke, looked, or moved.
He was a genuinely unusual man.
“They’re good people. All of them are simple and kind.”
As if noticing me looking around the center, Ryan took another sip of tea and said, “Besides, places like this don’t really mind if foreigners come and go.”
Then, with a slightly teasing expression, he added, “By the way, the food here’s actually pretty good once you get used to it.”
He turned to say that, and when he did, I noticed his movement was a little awkward as he shifted to the left. Something about it looked uncomfortable.
I remembered the bandage I’d glimpsed earlier when he stood up.
“You looked pretty badly hurt. How’s the wound?”
Ryan shrugged.
“There was some crazy bastard among the yakuza who started swinging a sword at me out of nowhere. Not a knife or anything—an actual katana. Jesus, samurai in this day and age.”
He laughed under his breath.
“I got cut in the back while running, and at the time I thought I was basically dead. But they said it was shallower than I’d thought. Anyway, I’m alive, so I guess I’m fine for now.”
He spoke as though it was nothing, rolling one shoulder.
Even so, every time he moved, he guarded his back.
It looked like any kind of hard movement would be difficult for him right now.
“Anyway.”
He scratched at his jaw for a moment, then looked at me.
“If possible, could you connect me with the agent assigned to you? Since headquarters has sent someone, it’s about time we moved. I’ve been stuck here long enough.”
For someone saying that, he sure looked like he’d been getting by just fine.
When I just stared at him blankly, Ryan read my look and gave a quick smile.
“Ah, I’m not asking for no reason. My communications are all gone, as you can see.”
Then, in a lower voice, he added, “Looks like information’s leaking from inside the base. I need to tell them that.”
It was vague, but I didn’t ask any further.
My job was just to find this man. I had found him; that was enough.
“Of course.”
I pulled out the old phone I’d been given when I first arrived here.
Then I sent a text to the only saved contact.
The message was simple.
[Found him.]
***
A back alley one block away from the Dotonbori entertainment district.
It was the kind of place where the tourist-packed main streets disappeared as if they’d been a lie from the start.
As I walked deeper into the alley, I saw a teppanyaki restaurant that looked like it had been there for decades.
Sizzle.
The sound of oil burning. The hum of the exhaust fan.
A baseball game was blaring from the TV.
At the counter, four office workers sat with their ties loosened, drinking beer.
I took the seat in the far corner and had a sip of draft beer.
Water droplets clung to the side of the glass and slid down my fingers.
Good.
Honestly, Japanese draft beer was worth the hype.
I was still quietly admiring it and taking a few more sips when—
“Dining alone?”
A voice tinged with laughter came from behind me.
It was familiar. Elena.
“If I am, then it’s fine to eat with me, right?”
She had a cap pulled low, a T-shirt, and canvas pants, with a small crossbody bag slung over one shoulder.
Seeing her like this, she looked completely different from her usual neat, professional image.
She looked like a tourist who had genuinely come here for a trip.
“One draft beer.”
She ordered something briefly from the owner.
Her Japanese was remarkably natural.
“Did you wait long?”
“No, I just got here.”
We sat side by side at the counter, drinking beer and talking.
“I found him. Ryan. He was in better shape than I expected.”
Elena took the beer the owner set down for her.
She took a sip and set the glass down with easy familiarity.
I kept explaining.
“He’s got a fairly deep cut on his back. It’s been stitched up, but it hasn’t fully healed yet.”
I told Elena everything else I’d learned as well.
As vaguely as possible, but with the important parts made clear.
Elena listened carefully, without interrupting me once.
“I see. Good work.”
After replying briefly, Elena lowered her gaze to her beer glass.
The sound of a pitcher throwing a ball echoed through the shop from the TV.
“You probably guessed as much, but the person Dohyun found is one of our people. A fairly seasoned veteran, too.”
Her low voice slipped in between the noise of the restaurant.
“We’ve determined that some of the information lines on the Osaka side were compromised and fell into the other party’s hands. When Brennan carried out the operation, part of that information leaked as well, and Brennan probably noticed it and cut off the existing channel.”
Elena spoke in that same calm tone, picking up her chopsticks.
She lifted a mouthful of yakisoba from the iron griddle and continued.
“That’s why we called you.”
For the first time, Elena turned her head slightly and looked at me.
Her blue eyes brushed over me for an instant before facing forward again.
“We needed someone who wasn’t connected to our side. Someone I can trust.”
I nodded. That much I’d expected.
And that was my part of the job. I’d found Ryan, and the contact was complete.
But Elena didn’t stop there.
“...Dohyun, first let me ask your understanding. I’d like to ask for a little more help from you.”
As she set down her glass, she went on, “There’s someone headquarters is after.”
Her voice dropped a notch.
“Eric Bowman. He’s a man in possession of very important information. Right now, he’s hiding in Osaka under the protection of the Kageyamagumi. Brennan went after him and got burned because of it, too.”
Elena paused there.
Holding her beer glass, she wore the look of someone deep in thought.
After that brief silence, she spoke again.
“For the record, this is a fairly dangerous job. I’m going to explain everything first, and I want you to choose for yourself. Of course, if you want to refuse, that’s perfectly fine. Don’t feel pressured.”
Still looking ahead, Elena said, “I’ve spent the past two weeks here using Brennan’s reports to narrow down where Bowman is staying. I’ve checked the building layout, the people inside, the security arrangements, and even the exact location of Bowman’s room.”
Her voice remained composed.
“Even now, my informant is watching the place in real time. We’ve also prepared all the equipment we need. The moment we go in, we’ll bring down communications and power in the surrounding area for a very short window. During that time, we’ll go inside and bring Bowman out.”
She made it sound simple, but of course it wasn’t.
We would be going into a place protected by a yakuza organization and dragging a man out from under their noses.
This was on a completely different level from Hong Kong.
“If we can avoid any kind of clash, that would be best... but if anything unexpected happens, having your help would be a huge advantage.”
Elena was being honest.
Just as she’d promised before, she was laying everything out and leaving the choice to me.
Then she added one more thing.
“Naturally, I’ll report the results of this operation to headquarters as a success, and you’ll be paid accordingly.”
As she said that, she tapped the table with one finger.
“The last one wasn’t pre-approved by headquarters, so I could only give you what was within my authority. The amount an officer can use at their own discretion is smaller than you’d think.”
Then she added quietly, “This time I’ve already filed a report in advance... and when we spend money, we spend it big.”
Elena paused for a moment, then looked me straight in the eye.
“One million dollars.”
Just one sentence.
From beyond the counter, oil snapped and crackled on the iron griddle.
“And the rest of your military service deducted in full.”
Her blue eyes remained fixed on me.
“So? What do you think?”