CHAPTER 31

The mood in the car was dreary. Elena, unaccustomed to driving on the left side of the road, was uncomfortable behind the wheel. In the backseat, Eytan was holding his side and stewing. Between the disastrous turn of events at the lab and the news about Elena’s health, he felt like everything was spiraling out of control. His worries had multiplied exponentially since the start of the mission. But his biggest concern was Eli, who was still being held captive. The only bright spot was the thought that his enemies believed he was dead. This would give him the element of surprise once he caught up to them. If he caught up to them.

No, things were definitely not unfolding the way he had hoped. He winced at the pain in his side.

Elena veered out of the fast lane and took an exit to a sleepy residential neighborhood outside Tokyo. She parked in a secluded alley, turned off the engine, and climbed into the backseat.

“Stop acting so macho, and raise your arms,” she commanded.

Eytan obeyed, opting to avoid the woman’s temper, as she clearly had no intentions of backing down. She took off his khaki T-shirt and discovered the extent of his injuries. A constellation of glass and metal debris studded the entire side of his body. He had to be in unbelievable pain, given the amount of shrapnel lodged in his flesh. She placed her fingers on his stomach and felt him shudder.

“We’re going to patch you up before we do anything else.”

“It’s nothing,” he lied.

“You won’t get very far like that.”

“We have no idea where we’re going anyway.”

“All the more reason to get you cleaned up before figuring out our next move. I saw a supermarket on the street we just passed. I’ll walk over and get what we need. Don’t move.”

“That won’t be a problem,” he said, trying to keep his face from twisting into a grimace.

Elena slammed the door shut and headed toward the store. She examined the products in the pharmacy section and settled on a first-aid kit, hoping it would provide just about everything she needed. She also bought a set of tweezers.

At the register, she found herself stuck between a businessman in a black suit that was at least one size too small and two postpubescent boys who were listening to their MP3 players. Elena wasn’t about to waste any effort trying to make sense of this strange world. The man in front of her was skimming the Tokyo Shimbun. Towering above the suit by a good half foot, she had no trouble reading over his shoulder. She just wished she understood Japanese.

She could still understand the pictures, though—at least one of them—and a second later, she snatched the paper from its owner’s hands. Ignoring his indignant cries and the stares of the other customers, she ripped out a page.

“Shut up,” she screamed. “Does anyone here speak English?”

The store employees and customers looked at each other in confusion. The short businessman raised a timid finger. Elena held out the page for him to read. She pointed to the article accompanying the photo. “Translate,” she said.

The Japanese man began reading the article.

“Hai. Boss Shinje Corp., Hirokazu Shinje, died, age ninety-three years. His assistant, Sean Woodridge, becomes boss Shinje Corp. Will attend opening of Shinje Conference Center in Shinjuku neighborhood tonight.”

She pointed at her impromptu interpreter’s watch.

“What time?”

He scanned the text for a moment and nodded when he found it.

“Nine o’clock.”

Elena searched her memory for the right expression as she stood before her smiling new friend. She recalled a scene from a movie she had seen years earlier.

“Arigato,” she said, bowing low with her hands on her thighs.

The man bowed in return, as did the half dozen other people still gathered around them. Before getting caught up in a nonstop ballet of bows, Elena threw a wad of yens on the counter and fled the store.

She rushed to the car. There, she found Eytan as white as a ghost. She had barely sat down before showing him the article from the paper.

“We caught a break!” she cried triumphantly.

He tried to skim the page but couldn’t. Elena was waving it as though it were a freshly minted college diploma.

“If you say so,” he said, leaning his head on the back of the seat.

“The guy in the photo. S.W. Sean Woodridge. That’s who I saw leaving the lab and getting into the helicopter. And even better, I know where he’s going to be tonight!”

“Excellent news,” he mumbled in a shaky voice. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, could you get this shit out of me? My fingers are too fat.”

Elena moved the front seats up as far as they would go to give herself enough maneuvering room in the back to tend to Eytan. She opened the first-aid kit and took out a few cotton pads, some bandages, and antiseptic ointment. She unwrapped the tweezers, which she proceeded to disinfect.

“All right, Morg, strip down,” she ordered.

Eytan looked like he was about to laugh, then winced in pain. He removed his T-shirt and lifted his right arm as high as he could to expose his wounded side. Elena slid her fingers across his abs toward the injured area. She felt him shiver.

She focused on extracting the numerous shards and bandaging the man. There was no better way to distract herself from the giant’s smooth, hairless skin and his shallow breaths, which were blowing softly against her face. Perhaps this was the last flesh she’d ever have the chance to touch. She tightened her grip on the tweezers and concentrated on the task. Anything to keep from imagining herself lying naked next to this man.

“Do you always wear the same clothes?” she asked as she plucked out the first piece of glass.

“Yes. I mean not exactly the same. I have a bunch of duplicates,” he said.

“How’s that? You allergic to fashion? Can’t find the right size?”

Her heartbeat was picking up, and she was breathing more quickly. Trying to extract a piece of metal, she pushed it in deeper.

“Hey! Careful!” the giant protested.

“Sorry.”

“I don’t have anything against fashion. I try to stay practical for professional reasons. Plus, my clothes have sentimental value. It’s a long story.”

She stopped prying and continued her work. It took her another ten minutes or so.

“There, I’m finished,” Elena announced proudly as she affixed one last adhesive strip to his side. “You’ll be feeling better in no time.”

She backed out of the car. A gust of cool air rushed in. Eytan attempted a few shoulder rolls.

“You’re a miracle worker,” he said, straightening himself. “Thanks.”

Elena carefully closed the kit as she leaned against the car. “Does Mr. Macho have a weakness for nurses?”

She immediately regretted the comment. Eytan replied with a high-pitched laugh, which he was quick to suppress. He got out of the car and practiced flexing to check his muscle range. He walked to the back of the vehicle, opened the trunk, threw in his torn clothes, and took out his backpack, from which he retrieved a perfectly folded T-shirt and jacket—both identical to his previous outfit.

“The chameleon has recovered his skin?”

“Exactly,” he replied as he adjusted the shoulders and sleeves.

Eytan glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard.

“Well, it’s almost seven o’clock. I suggest we pay a little visit to the Shinje Conference Center for the nine o’clock dedication.

“That’s where we’ll be meeting our target?”

“Yep.”

“Get behind the wheel. I’m going to count our remaining ammo supply.” Now, if only her headache would go away.