Cajun Justice(95)

Champ watched Yamamoto open the incense bowl and grab a piece of incense. He put it in the burning bowl, placed his hands together at chest level, and bowed at a forty-five-degree angle. Each of the family members repeated this process until they had all performed this sacred ritual.

Before the other guests were afforded the opportunity to pay their respects to Hayabusa, Yamamoto turned toward the crowd and addressed them in Japanese.

“Hayabusa was my own flesh and blood. I raised my grandson as my own son. He learned the yakuza way, and he brought us great honor. He was destined to take over and carry on my legacy. His death will be avenged.”

Yamamoto looked toward a group of four teenage yakuza members, each holding a birdcage.

“Hai!” Yamamoto yelled with a quick head bow.

The yakuza opened the cages, and four falcons flapped their wings and took flight into the evening sky.

“We pay homage to Hayabusa’s spirit. He will be our eyes in the sky.”

Although four was an unlucky number in Japanese culture, Champ thought this made sense in a strange way. The number four, shi, also meant “death.” The yakuza would not forget the death of the oyabun’s grandson.

The ceremony concluded, and as Champ reached for his phone, the female reporter he’d run into earlier asked, “What’s your angle going to be on this one?”

Champ ignored her. He texted Cain, YAMAMOTO IS SAYING HIS GOOD-BYES.

“Cat got your tongue?” the reporter asked Champ. “I’ve never seen you this nervous before.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he replied without looking up from his phone. He finished the message. HEAD BOSS HEADING YOUR WAY SOON.

COPY, Cain replied. I’M IN POSITION.





Chapter 75



Cain squinted through the keyhole. He saw the solemn yakuza members filing into the restaurant. Sake was waiting for them at the bar in traditional small wooden boxes. They reached for the drinks and downed the room-temperature sake. They unbuttoned their shirts and let them fall off their backs, showcasing their full-body tattoos. Some gathered around a table and began playing a card game. Cain didn’t recognize the game, only that the deck of cards looked smaller than American playing cards.

Cain felt a jolt of excitement as he saw one of the members limping across the room. It was the same punk he’d fought at the Angel Cloud. He had thrust his boot against the man’s kneecap, permanently injuring the yakuza member. Cain continued scanning the room from the limited viewing angle provided by the keyhole. Where is Yamamoto? He’ll know where Bonnie is.

Cain’s phone vibrated. He looked down and saw the low-battery indicator flashing. Murphy’s Law! He didn’t have a charger on him. The phone vibrated again. “Stop vibrating,” he muttered to his phone. But this time it was a text from Champ.

YAMAMOTO IS GETTING INTO HIS MERCEDES.

FOLLOW HIM, Cain instructed.

WHY? HE’S GOING TO THE IZAKAYA, Champ replied.

BATTERY IS DYING. NO TIME FOR BACK AND FORTH. FOLLOW HIM!

Suddenly the bathroom doorknob turned. Cain had been so preoccupied with his phone that he hadn’t been looking through the peephole. A surge of adrenaline shot through his body. He stood quickly and made himself as slim as possible against the wall as the door slowly opened.

What is taking so long?

Then it was clear. The man entering the bathroom had an injured knee and was walking with great difficulty.

Cain smiled. Perfect, he thought. We meet again, shithead.

When the yakuza cleared the threshold of the bathroom, Cain closed the door and locked it. The sound of the bolt sliding into place caught the yakuza member’s attention, and he turned rearward. Cain glided across the clean floor and used his hand to cup the gangster’s mouth to prevent him from screaming out for his associates. As Cain’s momentum drove forward, the thug stumbled backward and banged his head on the tile wall. Fresh blood splattered against the white tile. Cain swept his leg powerfully against the yakuza’s calf and sent him crashing to the floor. Cain quickly squatted on top of the dazed and disoriented kidnapper in judo’s popular mount position.

“Where is Bonnie? Bonnie wa doko desuka?” Cain removed his hand from the thug’s mouth so the man could speak.

“Tasukete!” he screamed, hoping to summon help.

Cain quickly threw an elbow strike to the gangster’s face. “Where is she? Tell me or I’ll kill you like Hayabusa.”

“She is dead,” he gurgled through blood and broken teeth.

“Bullshit!” Cain could sense that his sister was still alive, but he did not have enough time to get any information out of this yakuza member.

Cain reached for the backpack that Chief Alvarez had given him. He quickly duct-taped the thug’s mouth so he couldn’t scream out again, and then Cain tied the man’s hands and feet together, anchoring them to the toilet. He searched the gangster and took his keys and cell phone. He tried to call Champ, but the phone was password protected.

Cain punched in the numbers 1, 2, 3, 4. An incorrect password notification popped up. He tried 0, 1, 2, 3, but that was also wrong. Lucky number seven, he thought. He input 7, 7, 7, 7. A message appeared saying that he had three more attempts before the phone was wiped clean. Cain took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Quit thinking like an American!

Cain’s phone buzzed with a call from Champ. He had to answer it.