The Ninja's Oath, page 16
“Seventy-eight.”
I thought of Baba’s parents, still active on their North Dakota farm. Once they hit their mid-eighties, I imagined they would slow down. My mother’s parents were older and already moving and thinking more slowly. The years before ninety were precious, indeed.
“I don’t know, Uncle. Five years could be a quarter of their lives.”
“Maybe for Auntie. I doubt Uncle will survive that long. But wait until you see inside. This complex will have its own markets, pharmacies, and parks on the ground level. Everything they need is only an elevator ride away.”
Hong Kong had similar complexes, but nothing this remote.
At the end of the hall on the thirty-first floor, Chester answered Uncle’s knock with a sneer. “What do you want?”
“We came to check on your parents and make sure they’re okay.”
“Who’s at the door?” his mother yelled in Mandarin.
“Chang Lee.”
“Why?”
“To see how you are?”
She laughed.
Chester led us into a stark but roomy space with white walls and wood veneer floors. Boxes and bags of unpacked belongings leaned against the familiar couch and chairs.
Uncle ran his hand along his former entertainment console. “Nice furniture.”
Chester raised his chin. “You never said we couldn’t take it.”
“I never said you could.” Uncle glanced at the modern appliances in the kitchen. “At least you’ll finally learned how to cook.”
“Why? So I can work in a kitchen like you?”
Chester’s mother walked out of the bedroom wearing a flowered shift, rubber house slippers, and socks. “Are you trying to kill us, Chang Lee? Banish us to Pudong. Now encourage Chester to cook?”
Uncle walked to the window. “Impressive view.”
“At what? No skyscrapers or people. Just empty, ugly land.”
I had to admit, his cousin had a point.
Uncle gestured to me. “You remember my friend Lily Wong?”
“Why would I? All your child girlfriends look the same to me.”
Uncle ignored the dig and sat on the couch. “Sit beside me, Auntie. I have news to tell you about our family.”
She perked up with interest. “Oh? Is your mother sick?”
Just when I thought this horrid woman couldn’t be any more offensive, the glee in her eyes said she could.
I turned my back as Uncle explained what had happened to Chyou and Suyin so I wouldn’t have to watch the callous expressions cross her face. Since they spoke rapidly in Mandarin, it was easy to zone out. Even so, easy phrases broke through my fog: Too long. Don’t remember. Why should I care?
Uncle’s elder cousin wouldn’t help him if she could.
I turned toward the couch in alarm as I recognized new phrases: Buy me. Owe me. House in Putuo. The woman gestured furiously about her apartment and out the window as she spoke.
Uncle held out placating hands. “I cannot afford to buy you a house, Auntie. What else can I do?”
“I guess nothing. Just like me.”
Uncle slowed his speech, making him easier to understand. “Suyin is like a daughter to my sister. That makes her a cousin to you. All I want to know is who the Hefei gang is doing business with in Japan.”
“This is no small favor, Red Pole Chang. If I ask this question for you, it will end their obligation to me.”
“What else can I do?”
“Get me out of this hell hole and back to Shanghai.”
Uncle didn’t point out that the Pudong New Area was also part of Shanghai.
He stared at the floor and shook his head, as if arguing with himself. “Will the Former French Concession do?”
Her eyes lit up with greed as she pretended his offer was no big deal. “It’s far from our daughter, but it’s better than this. Where would we live?”
“In a shikumen house apartment.”
“Top floor?”
“Yes.”
“What about the kitchen? I don’t want strangers eating our food.”
“It has its own kitchen and a washing machine, all modern like this.”
“When could we move in?”
“My renter leaves in two months.”
“Hmm. That’s a long time to wait at my age.”
Uncle shrugged. “It will pass quickly. Like one morning and one evening, then you’ll wake in the most coveted district in Shanghai.”
She hid her excitement behind a devious grin. “I accept.”
“Not so fast, Auntie. First, you must help me find our cousin.”
“Sure, sure. I will ask.”
“Not good enough. If you want to live in my expensive apartment, the information you give me must lead to Suyin.”
Thirty-Four
“Welcome to Japan,” the customs agent said, returned my passport, and flagged Uncle to come forward after me.
I joined Tran on the other side of the barrier. “Will they let him through?”
“They should.”
“Should isn’t yes.”
He shrugged. “We’ll know soon enough.”
Japan permitted citizens from sixty-eight countries to visit for up to ninety days without a Visa. China was not on the list. Hong Kong was. Uncle had used nefarious means and his maternal grandparents’ Junk Bay address to renew the Hong Kong-issued passport he had received when his parents moved him to Shanghai. He used the same means and address to acquire the new Hong Kong Special Administration Region passport that was created when the British transferred sovereignty to China. I had questioned him about this before we left Shanghai.
“Is that what you used to come to Hong Kong to help me?”
“No need,” he had said. “My Chinese credentials were good enough. This will be the first time I’ve put the false passport to the test.”
I couldn’t believe it. “You went to all that trouble on the off chance you might need it at some point in your life?”
“HKSAR passports are valuable. I had an advantage to exploit, so I did.”
So we booked our flights and hoped Japan would let him in.
Everything had gone smoothly with the airline. Uncle and I traveled by coach while Tran flew first class. He had offered to upgrade my seat, but I had declined. Even without focusing his intention, Tran’s energy pricked my skin with electrical heat. Hours sitting beside him in the quasi-privacy of first class modules would have driven me mad.
I used the quiet flight, sandwiched between snoozing Uncle and the window, to raise my shields and shut down the energy receptors Sensei had trained me to hone. Tran’s energy had vanished and left me blessedly detached. I couldn’t even feel the urgency of travelers as they hurried through the terminal. The absence of sensation felt odd yet comforting to my over-stimulated nerves.
“There he is.” I pointed across the terminal where Uncle rolled his carryon down the gleaming white tiles.
“Any trouble?” Tran asked him when he arrived.
“Just the normal delays. Get your luggage so we can go.”
Although Tran and Uncle traveled light, I had brought the same luggage I had taken to Hong Kong. As soon as we rescued Suyin, I planned to fly straight home.
I yanked my suitcase off the conveyor belt and rolled it after Tran. “Don’t we need passes for the train?”
He veered toward a parking lot. “My contact left us a car.”
The vehicle turned out to be a gun-metal gray turbo-engine Subaru. Tran found the hidden key. Within minutes, we were on our way to the Naniwa Ward in Osaka where a former Yakuza group was rumored to buy fentanyl from the gang in Hefei. Uncle’s horrid cousin had held up her end of the deal. If her information led us to Suyin, Uncle would have to pay her price.
“How much rent money will you lose?” I asked Uncle.
“With the shikumen penthouse?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s in the Former French Concession so…five thousand US dollars a month.”
“That’s a big hit.”
He stared out his window. “What else could I do?”
I turned forward in my seat and considered my friend. I doubted anyone else in Uncle’s family would have come to the same decision had the tables been reversed.
Tran sped through a light and then slowed into traffic.
“Wouldn’t a train have been faster?” I asked.
“Faster and more convenient. But we may need privacy and flexibility to transport what we’ll need, not to mention hiding Suyin.”
I looked back at Uncle. “Speaking of privacy…now that we’re alone, will you finally explain what your cousin meant by a former Yakuza group?”
Uncle shrugged. “She didn’t go into detail. She just said they were no longer affiliated with the Yamaguchi-gumi and were trafficking drugs on their own.”
“Who are the Yamaguchi-gumi?”
When Uncle shrugged, Tran cut in. “They’re one of the three principal crime syndicates in Japan. The Yakuza operates with strict hierarchy and rules, which includes registering as a member. With Japan cracking down via law enforcement and social pressure, registered Yakuza members have been restricted from taking legitimate jobs, opening bank accounts, buying houses, renting apartments…all the things that people do in normal life.”
“Wait,” I said. “Criminals register as criminals and then go about their criminal activities in full view of the police? Why would they do that?”
“Without registration, the Yakuza leaders won’t provide legal assistance.”
That made no sense to me until I thought of the criminal watch lists compiled in the United States. Knowing a person was in a gang or even a known felon did not necessarily make them easier to bust. And with so many, they couldn’t watch them all.
Tran continued. “The Yakuza syndicates have affiliated gangs working for them on various tiers. Since the money flows up, the low-level gangs have to scrounge to survive. As I explained in Hefei, this has led many of them to break off into the independent groups. Sometimes larger groups will break off in a quest for power, leading to urban Yakuza wars, like the Yama-Ichi feud in the late 1980s. Either way, the new group’s affiliation to the Yakuza ends unless they continue to pay dues or are reinstated at a future date.” Tran chuckled. “Or if they win the war.”
“What kind of group are we looking for?” I asked. “An independent upstart or a crime boss vying for syndicate power?”
Uncle leaned forward between the seats. “They call themselves Kufuku-kai, which means Hungry Party. They’ve made a name for themselves all the way to China, but they are hungry for more. My cousin says they work independently but still pay Yakuza dues.”
“Will their independent status make them easier or harder for us to find them and rescue Suyin?”
“Both,” Tran said. “Easier to find. Possibly harder to take. Since Japan’s gun laws are strict, some of the crime bosses have announced no-gun policies, thinking this proclamation will protect them from legal liability. This doesn’t stop the use of firearms entirely, but it does make the Yakuza more judicious about their use. An independent gang like the Kufuku-kai can arm themselves however they choose. The more violent they are, the more notoriety they gain.”
“Gee, aren’t you full of good news?”
Tran grinned. “Happy to help.”
Metal walls closed us in as we zipped across the elevated highway. All I had seen of Japan so far were blue skies, cars, and the occasional billboard in Japanese. The lack of skyscrapers was so unlike the photos I had seen of Tokyo, which appeared as crowded and vertical as Hong Kong.
I turned to Tran. “So, what’s Osaka’s drug culture like?”
He feigned offense. “What are you implying, K?”
“Nothing, J. You just seem to know an awful lot about this country’s criminal underbelly.”
He acquiesced with a nod. “I’ve been here once or twice.”
“Killing drug dealers?”
He raised a brow. “Would that make you think better of me or worse?”
“Do you care?”
“Of course.”
The seriousness of his reply cut me short. What did caring mean for a person like Tran? Curiosity? Fascination? People cared for their pets. How, exactly, did Tran care for me?
His mouth curled as he drove, as if he could hear every thought in my head. It wouldn’t be enough to shield my nerves from his energy if I allowed my mind to obsess. Thoughts projected emotion and intent. I needed the mental discipline I had worked so hard with Sensei to achieve.
I focused on our mission and hardened my voice. “The drug culture, Tran. What is it like?”
“Complicated and unique.”
“How so?”
“The government stigmatizes illegal drug use and encourages its society to shame addicts. Yet Japan is one of the highest per capita spenders of pharmaceuticals. Since Japanese physicians and hospitals are allowed to own pharmacies, it incentivizes them to prescribe. More drugs in circulation make them easier for addicts and dealers to acquire. Illegal drug use is lower compared to other countries, but it’s higher than the government or law enforcement would like the citizens to believe.”
“Do they cover it up?”
“It’s subtler than that. Law enforcement perpetuates their low numbers by not performing autopsies or digging too deeply into suspected overdose deaths that would tarnish their crime-fighting efforts and force them into work they don’t want to do. Meanwhile, the government collects their data through public means that can subject the survey participants to social and government rebuke. Neither can be trusted because the data reported only confirms what Japan wants their citizens and the world to believe.”
“So, what’s the bottom line? Is there a lucrative, illegal drug market here or not?”
“Definitely. It’s just hidden beneath a deep cultural fog.”
Thirty-Five
The bedrooms in our Osaka home base were even tinier than Hefei, with barely enough space to squeeze between a twin bed and shallow closet along the wall. Uncle claimed the first bedroom. Tran dropped his travel bag beside the futon folded in half on the common room floor. When he caught me watching, he grinned.
“Would you rather sleep out here? I know how you wander at night.”
“Since when?” Uncle asked.
“Since never,” I snapped.
Growling with agitation, I wedged my luggage into my room. When I returned, I found my partners perusing the assets Tran’s contact had left. Each was focused on more important matters than me. Uncle snooped through weapons while Tran divided the cash.
He counted out 10,000 yen for each of us in 5,000 and 1,000 denominations. “This is for small items from local shops. Bigger establishments will accept your credit cards. When you’re with me, I’ll pay.”
He picked up a white card with a thick aqua stripe and the acronym ICOCA and a duckbill platypus underneath. “These transit cards should be loaded with enough credit to travel locally and pick up what you need at convenience stores along the way.”
I pocketed my card along with the bills. “Which mode of transportation will we use?”
“Whichever we need.”
He smoothed a map of the area and placed his finger on the blue X. “This is us.”
Locations were marked in Japanese kanji and Romanized script.
I tapped Uncle’s arm. “Do you speak the language?”
“No. But their kanji and our hanzi have the same or similar meanings, so I can read a little of what I see. Has your sensei taught you to speak?”
“Only polite exchanges or what applies to my training.”
Tran interjected in a flow of beautifully spoken Japanese.
I tried to feel grateful and failed.
He offered an uncharacteristically humble bow. “As I said, I’ve been here once or twice.”
Uncle nodded at Tran, then frowned at my sour expression. “Why are you so grouchy? Didn’t you sleep?”
Heat flushed up my neck as I thought about my erotic interlude with Tran in Hefei.
Uncle tested my forehead with his fingers. “You’re burning up. Are you sick?”
“I’m fine,” I said, swatting at his hand. “It’s hot in here, that’s all.”
Uncle looked around as if he would be able to spot heat waves rising in the air. “It’s not so hot. You have too much yang energy in your system. You need to cool down.”
Tran snorted with amusement.
I clenched my teeth. If I broke a molar on this trip, I was sending him the bill.
Uncle glowered at us both. “What’s wrong with you two? Stop acting like children and focus.” Once we appeared suitably chastened, he examined me with concern. “We’ll look for a pharmacy when we go out. One might sell a tonic that can cool your heat.”
Tran lost his shit while I shrank into the floor. If only ninja magic could make me truly disappear.
Uncle waved his hands with disgust. “I’m going to change my clothes. When I come out, I better catch the two of you behaving like adults.”
We bit our lips until he had closed his bedroom door.
Imagine the adult behavior Uncle would have seen the previous night if he had come to the kitchen for a late-night snack.
We glanced at each other and snorted a laugh, inhaled deeply, then lost it again. What had happened between Tran and me seemed too absurd to be real. If he hadn’t been laughing beside me, I would have convinced myself it was a dream.
Once recovered, Tran looked seriously at me. “Are we good?”
I thought about the killing and the teasing and the torturing remarks. I thought about the games he played and the way he manipulated not only me, but everyone around him for personal gain. I thought about his cold calculations and his unfathomable generosity. Time and again, Tran had watched over me. Now, he had flown across the East China Sea to rescue the stepniece of a man he hardly knew.
Are we good?
My skin tingled with remembered sensations I had never experienced with Daniel or Pete. Two nights of sexual exploration in my entire adult life had not prepared me to handle what had transpired between Tran and me in Hefei.
