Power and Empire

Jack nodded, dabbed at the wound on his side. It would need a few stitches, but his rib bone had taken the brunt of the attack — doing what ribs were designed to do and protecting his heart and lungs. It would hurt like a son of a bitch when the adrenaline wore off.

Yuki was drenched and beginning to shiver. He considered giving her his jacket but thought it would offend her, considering the circumstances.

“You’ve got eight rounds,” he said, wiping the rain off his face. “I’ve got five. That leaves—”

Adara’s voice cut him off again. “Jack!” she said. “Chen and the girl are coming back your way.”

Sirens began to wail toward Shinjuku train station.

Ryan peeked around the vending machine to see Chen and Kim Soo sprinting toward him. Chen had his head down against the pouring rain, but the Korean woman saw Ryan and brought up a pistol, firing as she ran.

Rounds thwacked against the vending machine, just inches from Ryan’s face. He shot twice, aiming center mass at Chen, who was also armed and in the lead. He hoped like hell the rounds stopped but didn’t kill the bastard. They really, really needed to talk to him.

Yuki dropped to her knees as Ryan fired and leaned around the machine, shooting steadily, purposefully, dumping seven rounds and staying aimed in while she reloaded a fresh magazine from her pocket.

Both Chen and Kim Soo fell, their pistols skittering across the wet pavement.

More gunfire erupted from the other end of the alley.

“Talk to me, guys,” Midas said.

“We’re good,” Chavez came back. “Our two bad guys decided to engage the police. Are you guys all right?”

“We’re good,” Midas said. “Chen and Kim Soo are down.”

“Dead?” Chavez asked.

Jack put a hand to Chen’s neck. “Chen’s still alive,” he said. Yuki did the same with Kim Soo but shook her head.

“Get them off the street if you can,” Chavez said. “If you can manage to stop shooting, the cops might think these other dudes are responsible — at least until ballistics comes back. These idiots appear to be ready to go down in a hail of bullets, so they won’t be around to question, either. I figure you got about five minutes while the cops still have their hands busy.”

Yuki picked the lock to the back door of a bar off the alley, leading into a storage room stacked high with boxes of wine and assorted liquor. Midas dragged in Kim Soo’s body as well, in case any local police came up the alley from the other end to investigate. Ryan and Yuki leaned Chen against a stack of Suntory whiskey boxes and brought him around with a pinch to the underside of his upper arm. Shamisen music came from the thin door to the main bar along with a sliver of green neon. Otherwise the storage room was dark.

“Jack san,” Yuki said. “You must give me the revolver.”

Ryan shook his head. “Not yet. Still too sketchy out there.”

“I will return it if needed,” Yuki said. “Possession of a firearm is seven years in prison in this country. No matter who you are.”

Ryan groaned and handed over the revolver, butt first. He took his frustration out on a moaning Vincent Chen.

“Tell us something, champ,” Ryan said. “What are you doing in Japan?”

Chen put a hand to his shoulder, exploring the wounds, then looking to the floor at Kim Soo. “I think the bitch shot me,” he said.

“I think so, too,” Ryan whispered. The gaping exit wound in front of Chen’s chest indicated the shot had come from behind. “Seriously, though, you some kind of bagman or what? I can get you protection if you help us out.”

“Protection would be most welcome,” Chen said. “They will kill…” He began to cough up a pink foam, choking on his own blood.

“Damn it!” Ryan hissed. At least one of the rounds had punched through Chen’s lung. He put a finger to the man’s lips, grateful for the shamisen music. “You gotta hush, dude, or they’ll find us.” He had no idea who “they” were, but Chen was scared of somebody.

“Gang…” Chen coughed again. “F… f… four… Ki…” He attempted another cough, but there was no energy in it. His words trailed off in one last rasping breath.

Yuki put her fingers to his neck. “He is gone.”

“Son of a bitch!” Ryan hissed. “They trail this guy all the way around the world, and now he dies spewing nothing but gibberish. “Did he say ‘kill’?”

“Couldn’t tell,” Midas said. “He might have. Maybe ‘gang four-key’ or ‘gang for kill.’ Hell, none of it makes sense.”

“Gang of Four?” Adara guessed over the net. “That’s got Chinese implications.”

“Could be,” Ryan said. None of this helped him figure out what threats might be facing his father. “How’s it looking out there?”

“One shitbird is down,” Chavez said. “And the other has to be running out of bullets. You guys haul ass as soon as you’re able. We’ll sit tight here and play innocent bystander until things simmer down.”