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It was no secret that Hiro Kobayashi was head of the most powerful yakuza family in Japan. He controlled a criminal empire that stretched far beyond the borders of his island nation. There was little in the realm of things illegal that didn't interest Kobayashi. Drugs, human trafficking, prostitution, money laundering, loan sharking, gambling – Kobayashi had a hand in all of it. Every human weakness was fair game. Human weakness was an endless, open treasure chest of money for those like Kobayashi who were willing to exploit it.
Kobayashi had started on the lowest rung of the yakuza ladder, back when he was still a boy. Highly intelligent and observant, he had killed his first man before he was twenty. By the time he was thirty, he'd risen all the way to the level of shateigashira, a high-ranking lieutenant with many kyodai beneath him. It was unusual for a man that young to reach such a high position within the family. He'd been sixty when he was hand-picked by his predecessor to take over the position he now held as boss. That too, was unusual. Most times succession in the family was more a matter of violence than agreement.
At seventy-four years old Kobayashi was a distinctive looking man, every inch the powerful executive. He was of average height, broad shouldered and solid around the waist. His hair was entirely white and cut short. His expensive, dark suit was perfectly tailored and of the best material. The cream-colored shirt he wore gleamed. The knot in his blue silk tie was perfect. From a distance, Kobayashi could easily be mistaken for a wealthy and successful businessman. It was only when you got close and looked into his eyes that you saw something dark and dangerous.
Sometimes, when he was angry, Kobayashi became very still. His eyes would flick back and forth in a way that reminded anyone watching of a poisonous snake waiting to strike. At the moment, he was very angry. He sat at the head of a long table with two men, his eyes darting between his shingii, Kensaku Ishimura, and his chief lieutenant, Fumito Izumi. Ishamura was the family's legal advisor, the Japanese equivalent of a mafia consigliere.
"Something must be done about these Americans," Kobayashi said. His voice sounded like a shovel scraping across gravel, the result of a blow to the throat he taken years before. The man who'd struck him had died a few seconds later.
When he was sure Kobayashi was finished speaking, Fumito Izumi spoke.
"We have been humiliated by Tanaka's death and his failure to obtain the sword. The other families have learned of it and see it as a sign we are becoming weak. We must retaliate. It is not acceptable."
"I advise caution," Ishimura said. "These particular Americans are well connected with their CIA. Of course we must avenge this dishonor, but we cannot risk a direct confrontation with the American government."
"You always advise caution. You are like an old woman with her basket of fish. There's a time for caution and a time for action. This is one of those times."
"Deru kui wa utareru," Ishimura said. "The stake that sticks up will be hammered down."
"There are many proverbs," Izumi said. "I prefer the one that tells us fear is greater than danger. Taking out these people who have stained our honor will be easier than you expect."
"You are both forgetting what is important," Kobayashi said. "The sword. Nobuyasu is obsessed with it. With the sword, we control Nobuyasu. With Nobuyasu, we control the future of our nation. The sword can bring us power that has not been seen since the days of the shogunate."
Izumi said, "With your permission, boss, let me send Watanabe after the sword. He's already in America. He could do it."
"You'd send Watanabe?" Ishimura said. "He's a loose cannon. He'll attract too much attention."
"The other families need to know they can't screw around with us. Watanabe will paint the walls with blood. We need to send a clear message. Word will get around. Our reputation will be restored."
"And the CIA?"
"Fuck the CIA. What can they do? They know who we are, they know what we do, and they profit from it. They don't want to rock the boat. A few dead Americans? They're not going to come after us over something like that."
Kobayashi held up his hand. "Enough."
Izumi and Ishimura looked at him and waited for his decision.
"Fujito, you have my permission to contact Watanabe. Give him the information he needs. Tell him this is a priority assignment. Tell him that success brings reward."
"Boss..." Ishimura said.
Kobayashi looked at him. Ishimura had been at Kobayashi's side for many years and recognized the look. It sent a chill down his spine.
"I have made my decision," Kobayashi said.
"Yes, boss."
"Good."
Ishimura thought he would not like to be in the Americans' shoes when Watanabe came calling.