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If the doc was the overt killing type, he’d be the kind of guy who’d kill you then convince himself he was doing it to save the world because he was reducing the carbon footprint of humanity or some such shit. I don’t give one flying good goddamn about anybody’s carbon anything. If I kill you, it’s because I wanted to. I don’t need a deeper reason.
So whatever Lindsay does to Mina in my absence, he won’t do it because he’s owning his evil. He’ll lie to himself. He’ll concoct some elaborate story about how whatever he’s doing is somehow in Mina’s interest. Because he’s weak.
There’s a reason she trusts me. It took me a while to figure it out, but I get it now. It’s because I never pretended to be the good guy. I never pretend anything I’m doing is in anyone else’s greater good or like it’s some sacrifice I’m making. I might enjoy the mindfuck, but you know exactly where the fuck you stand with me within seconds of meeting my gaze. There are no warm and reassuring platitudes before I go in for the kill.
But with Lindsay, there are. It’s what makes him a more dangerous animal than me.
If I don’t manage to escape, Mina’s got a few weeks before that bastard realizes I’m not coming back, but after that… I shake the thought from my head. I am coming back. Matsumoto’s third rate son isn’t going to be the one to remove me from this world.
The Other Matsumoto observes me like I’m a bug under a glass. I know that feeling well, but from the other side of the glass. I’m pretty sure Matsumoto is the guy’s last name. In the Japanese underworld Matsumoto was known only by the one name and his full and formal identity was hidden behind about a thousand shell corporations. So good luck on finding out his real full name. I appreciate this courtesy the Other Matsumoto has given me to think through all this before he launches into whatever stupid speech he’s prepared to make me sorry I offed his daddy.
“You should be buying me a drink,” I say. “Aren’t you the new shiny crime lord everybody can piss their pants over and tell cautionary tales to their children about so they won’t misbehave? I made you the new legend in your part of the world, and this is the thanks I get?”
The Other Matsumoto clenches his jaw. “I could give two shits about my father.”
I smell the lie and bravado on him as soon as the words are out of his mouth.
“Then why am I here? If you wanted to meet up and shoot the shit about the joys of crime, you could have made an appointment with my secretary.” I don’t have a secretary, but I’m sure he gets that.
“I want the property you stole from my father.”
The house that burned to the ground? No. He means Mina. He wants Mina. The rage boils inside me, and for a moment I imagine that on pure adrenaline alone I could break my bonds and strangle the fuck out of this motherfucker. I take a few slow, measured breaths. No. I don’t want it to be quick. I want to take my time with this one. I didn’t get that chance with his father. This is the opportunity for a do-over. Even if I could escape, if I’m in a full blown rage, I won’t get to take my time with him.
When I trust myself to speak, I say: “She’s protected and hidden.”
If he could get to Mina, he would have already killed me. He doesn’t know where she is. I repeat this over and over in my mind like a mantra. The reassurance is hollow.
Then a cartoon light bulb goes on over my head.
“You’re my client,” I say, finally realizing this thing I should have realized in the first moments of captivity. Motherfucker.
Matsumoto just smiles, as if to say took you long enough. Well, I never claimed to be a rocket scientist. I’m good at torture, death, and the logistics to make those things seamlessly come together. It doesn’t automatically make me a super genius mastermind.
This little piece of shit approached me through back channels on the dark web. I should have known that contract was too high. He sought me out specifically. He knew where I’d be tracking the target while Matsumoto was tracking me. But it also means, he had to lure me out, so he can’t possibly know where Mina is.
“I just needed to get you away from her, so I could lure her out to rescue you. I sent her some mail.”
My heartbeat picks up speed, and it’s all I can do not to have a childhood flashback. There are exactly two things that make me scared: Worry for Mina, and the demons from my childhood. I was too small to kill people back then, and when those memories rise up, I forget that I’m bigger now.
I take another long slow breath. We have a PO box. Matsumoto—the father—would have had that address from doing business with the house. Our true identities and location are hidden behind many layers of privacy, multiple corporations and trusts, God himself couldn’t unsnarl it to find our actual physical location.
But with Mina on the line, that confidence fades a bit.
Gabe checks that box once a week. He always varies the day and time he goes. He varies the way he dresses and moves. He always makes sure no one is watching or following. I should have been in charge of getting the mail. I trust Gabe, but what if he wasn’t as careful as he should be? What if he’s started to drop his guard? What if someone followed him back to the house?
