Cajun Justice(53)

Cain pressed the mic on the handheld radio and shouted, “Two motorcycles coming in hot! Ambush! Evacuate!” Then Cain yelled to Morita-san, “Drive!”

Cain quickly turned to Sato. “Get down, sir!” Cain unbuckled his seat belt and was preparing to jump into the back to cover Mr. Sato with his own body when Mr. Morita stomped his dress shoe onto the gas pedal. The 278-horsepower V-8 engine roared to life. The fresh tires squealed before they gripped the concrete and thrusted everyone into their seat. The powerful 4.5-liter engine chewed the concrete and spat rocks as Mr. Morita weaved around the construction workers and blasted through traffic.

Umiko shrieked in terror.

“They have guns!” Tanaka’s voice shrilled over the radio as the rear passengers on the motorcycles pulled out Uzis and pointed them toward Tanaka’s van.

Takka takka takka takka. The sound of high-velocity rounds being fired from the submachine guns at a rate of six hundred rounds per minute echoed off the high-rise buildings as the 9mm bullets sprayed the van.

Umiko screamed in horror and shock.

The motorcycles whined louder as the drivers rolled the throttle to max speed to close the gap. Morita-san was a completely different person than Cain had ever imagined. It was as if a trance had come over him and he was channeling Steve McQueen in the movie Bullitt.

“Stay down!” Cain shouted in Mr. Sato’s ear as he used his own body as a shield to cover his protectee. He had been hired by Koichi Sato and was legally and morally bound to protect him, but Cain also wanted Umiko to comply to increase her chances of survival as well. “You, too, Umiko. Stay down!” He pulled her tiny body close to his.

The black motorcycles flanked Sato’s car, approaching both sides of the rear passenger compartment. Mr. Morita jerked the steering wheel violently left and right to shake them off the car, but it didn’t work. The drivers comfortably maneuvered their bikes at high speeds, and they would come right back alongside the car.

Takka takka takka takka. Bullets and smoke spewed from the Uzis. At least three rounds penetrated the rear window, and glass shattered throughout the passenger compartment. Umiko cried out as broken glass rained down onto her head. She wildly tossed her head left and right to shake the shards of glass out.

“Don’t move!” Cain yelled. “Just stay down.” He continued pushing Sato and Umiko as far into the floorboard as he could, placing his outstretched body on top of them both.

He grabbed Sato’s briefcase from the rear seat and placed it over their heads. He figured it was a little protection—at least better than nothing.

Mr. Morita continued jerking the steering wheel from side to side. The motorcycles were swarming the car like angry bees. “Stick to one!” Cain yelled out to him.

“Hai!” Morita replied, and trained all his attention on the motorcycle to his right. He turned the steering wheel to the right and forced the motorcycle to veer right. When the motorcycle couldn’t go any farther right without hitting the guardrail, the motorcyclist released the throttle and slowed down to get behind the sedan. At that very instant, Cain yelled out to Morita, “Hit the brakes now!” Morita listened to Cain, though it was a command that was completely counterintuitive in a situation where assassins were on the heels of their prey. Morita stomped his foot on the brake. Smoke billowed into the air from burnt rubber and overheated brakes as all the momentum transferred to the car’s front chassis. Cain felt his body roll forward and abruptly stop against the back cushion of the front seats.

As Cain had predicted, the new Kawasaki sport bike had been going too fast. It couldn’t stop in time. The motorcycle slammed into the trunk of the sedan and flipped the rider and passenger onto the roof, breaking the hood ornament off the car as they crashed onto the pavement and continued rolling.

“Great job, Morita-san! Now go, go, go!”

Mr. Morita lifted his foot off the brake and pushed the pedal to the floor. The sedan responded with raw power. The momentum snapped his head back into the headrest, and Cain watched as Morita ran over one of the attackers, causing two thuds as the tires rolled over the body. Cain peered through the shattered rear window as the two assassins lay still on the pavement.

“Find me a fire or police station!” Cain instructed the driver, his face now so close he was practically spitting on Morita. “Shoubousho! Koban!” Their car wasn’t on fire, but fire and police stations were safe havens during protective missions because they were government buildings with medical equipment and emergency communications.

The remaining motorcycle sprinted forward and pulled alongside the battered Nissan President.

“Chotto mate!” Morita yelled.

“Hold on!” Umiko quickly translated as Morita blew through a red light at a busy intersection. Passing cars blared their horns and screeched to a halt. Morita swerved off the main road and squeezed the large sedan down an alley that led to a hidden labyrinth normally closed to cars because of pedestrian traffic. The Kawasaki Ninja 1000 followed close behind like a shadow. The narrow alleys were no obstacle for the bike or its operator.

Morita-san hit the horn with his palm and held it as he yelled out in Japanese. Shoppers and businesspeople scattered in every direction and leaped out of the way to avoid the massive car barreling through.

As the motorcycle pulled alongside the passenger compartment, Cain grabbed the handle of Sato’s briefcase and swung the case all the way from his hip into the helmet of the motorcycle’s passenger. The briefcase busted open and sent papers flying as the Samsonite case broke the face shield and catapulted the rider off the motorcycle and into the wall of the tight alley.