Collector of Secrets (53 page)

Waiting at the bottom with a glow stick as the only light, Max pondered running as soon as Tomoko arrived, but the darkness, rocky landscape, and heavy foliage made him reconsider. They would need Lloyd’s help to make it the rest of the way down the cliff to the ocean.

But can we get away from him alive?

Tomoko descended in short, jerking motions, and Max helped guide her down the last few feet and pulled her to the side. “Everything’s all right.” He embraced her.

“Tell me again, once I start breathing.”

Lloyd zipped quickly down the unobstructed line. Arriving at the bottom, he pulled on night-vision goggles. “Both of you follow me.”

It was apparent that the underbrush had recently been slashed from the trail, and as they clambered over jagged rocks, Max wondered how it was possible for one man to have planned and executed this mission all on his own. The obvious but unexpected answer was waiting at the bottom.

Finally reaching the coral plateau, Lloyd led them toward the white edge of the ocean. The glowing full moon overhead provided decent light, but still they stumbled through shallow pools of water on the long walk. A warm breeze picked up as they moved farther out. Looking up and back, Max could see lights flashing in the distance. Lloyd had been right—the police had arrived.

Tomoko tripped, but Max caught her. “I’m so tired. I just want to lie down,” she complained.

“Me, too, but keep going—just a bit more.” It seemed like a silly reply, given that he had no idea what was coming next, but there was little else to say.

Just before they reached the rolling water’s edge, Lloyd pulled a gun and turned menacingly. His face was shadowed, but his voice was clear. “My part is done. Now, where’s the diary?”

Max stared down the barrel and pressed Tomoko behind him. “O-Jima Island. Up the coast about five miles.” Max felt his skin crawl, but he stepped toward the barrel so it was snug against his sternum. “Let her go. I’ll take you there myself.”

“Max—
no
!”

Lloyd didn’t answer, but instead pulled out a cell phone. He spoke into the receiver. “I’m in place. We’re heading to O-Jima Island . . . and we have company.”

From nowhere, an obscure bump on the horizon increased in size as it came toward them. A distant hum morphed and changed into the throaty drone of twin outboard motors. Only feet from the coral’s edge, a black inflatable boat dropped its throttle and rotated ninety degrees before edging sideways. One of the two men on board leaned out. His muscular arms held a paddle over the rubber-sided craft to keep the surf from pushing it against sharp outcroppings.

Lloyd waved his gun. “Get in. Hurry up.”

Both men on the Zodiac were dressed in camouflage, their faces painted in matching stripes of olive and brown. Tomoko jumped first and Max followed suit, warily eyeing the men’s machine guns. He shivered from the ocean breeze and the mercenaries’ silent gaze.

As Max passed the driver’s seat, he noticed the handle of a machete jutting from beneath. It was clear now that the two had created the cliff trail earlier in the day.
This whole island is crawling with military.
The thought that Lloyd might be one of them only made the situation worse.

Tomoko moved quickly to the far rear corner, pressing her back into it and pulling her legs toward her chest before dropping her head. Max moved to take a seat just inches away.

The boat turned away from the reef and headed for open water. The rigid front bounced when it crested the first swells, but as the speed increased, the movement evened out into a flattened, rhythmic thud pounding over the wavetops.

Max pulled his knees in close, in imitation of Tomoko, who was retreating into her own world. Cautiously slipping a new cell phone from his pocket, he blinked into the wind, glancing around to ensure he wasn’t being watched. The three men standing at the midpoint of the boat seemed focused on the forward horizon. With his thumb, he quickly spelled out the word
boat
—it was the most that he dared write—followed by the
SEND
command.

Arrival by water had never been considered.
I hope Toshi and Jeff are prepared for what’s coming.

“GET READY!” Toshi’s voice crackled in Jeff’s Bluetooth headset. “I can hear a boat approaching. I think it’s them.” Cell phone reception on O-Jima Island was poor, even if it was only a couple of hundred yards from the mainland.

Jeff clutched his motorbike helmet while standing on some rocks, attempting to get a better look. The expanse between him and the concrete pier to his right was the length of a football field. Half the distance in the opposite direction, a group of teenagers were clustered around a beach campfire. Repeated rounds of animated cheering were followed by the clinking of beer bottles and shouts of
Kampai!
He wondered how long the beachfront homeowners would put up with the noise.

In the distance, Toshi’s priestly white robes glowed in the moonlight at the end of the pier. Set against the backdrop of twinkling houses rising up the mainland’s hillside, the scene looked almost prophetic: a sacred, luminous beacon waiting to deliver the innocent from danger. “I’ll leave the phone line open. Remember the plan. If this goes wrong, call the police. Do not try to help.”

Jeff agreed with haste, knowing full well that he couldn’t stand by and do nothing if his friends were in peril. He watched, transfixed, as a dark shape pulled alongside the pier and a single figure leaped from the boat.

F
orced to kneel against the Zodiac’s rubber side, with a machine gun pressed to the back of his neck, Max wondered if it would hurt to die.
What was I thinking?
Lloyd will never let me walk away. My fate will be the same as Mr. M’s.
And what would happen to Tomoko? None of this was her fault, but in the end that wouldn’t matter. She was kneeling next to him, forced into the same awkward position, deathly fear stamped upon her face.

He watched as Lloyd jumped from the boat, moving swiftly, ominously, into Toshi’s personal space, seemingly unfazed by the sight of a halo-white Shinto priest. “You’d better have what I want,” he growled.

Toshi’s voice quivered but his face remained a calm façade. “Yes, I have it.” He stepped back and extended the billowing sleeve covering his left arm. “Please take the prize yourself.” His head dipped in an outward display of respect.

Lloyd holstered one of his guns and reached inside the folds of cloth, withdrawing the yellow diary. “So this is the troublesome book?” A smirk flickered quickly across his lips as he examined Prince Takeda’s red
Hanko
seal and looked randomly through the pages. “Excellent.”

“And now if you would kindly complete the transaction.”

“Naturally.” Lloyd snapped his fingers and the two mercenaries hoisted an obviously relieved Tomoko up onto the pier’s edge. As Max followed behind he glanced back to the boat, focusing on the trigger finger of the shorter mercenary twitching in anticipation, ready to respond. It was clear that the man was waiting for a signal to shoot, and in Max’s aching mind, there was no choice—as dangerous as it would be, Plan B would have to be played out. Beads of perspiration formed on his forehead, and he could feel his muscles tremble as the two groups quickly converged. It was time.

Lloyd strode past without stopping as Tomoko rushed forward to embrace Toshi.

Max was sure it would only be a matter of moments before the mercenaries started shooting once Lloyd was out of the line of fire. He held up a clenched fist of solidarity in front of his chest—the predetermined sign for Toshi to flee—as he gripped Tomoko’s shoulders from behind, leaning forward to whisper in her ear. “Go, now. You have to run.” He pushed her onward. “Hurry!”

Tomoko’s eyes grew large and her lips fell open, but no sound came forth as Toshi turned and ran, pulling her away, his robes billowing.

She knows I still love her. She understands.

It was now or never. Sweat covered his body, yet his skin felt cold as ice.
I am the new guardian!
His eyes sprang wide and he returned the way he’d come—toward Lloyd—toward what would likely be the end. “One final thing, Mr. Elgin.”

The green-eyed devil was almost at the boat when he turned in response, his back facing the black ocean.

Max’s voice held steady, despite his gripping fear. “The diary you’re holding has been scanned and dozens of secure copies have been placed on servers around the world. Daily codes must be entered to prevent the copies being released on the Internet. If you harm any of us—”

For a moment Lloyd appeared stunned, then his face erupted into rage as he surged forward, delivering a violent punch to the stomach, followed by a driving blow to the jaw. Max felt the excruciating impact of the combined force lift him off his feet, tossing him backward to the ground.

“You two stop!” Lloyd roared as he fired his gun high into the air. The mercenaries jumped from the boat to the concrete pier with their weapons trained forward.

Gasping, grimacing in agony, rolling from side to side, Max clutched his gut. He could hear the sound of Tomoko weeping—it seemed so distant.

Lloyd wrenched at Max’s blood-stained shirt, pulling him up, lifting him closer to his own menacing face. The gun’s smoking barrel jammed against the flesh of his neck, triggering a moan. Lloyd’s words came slow and evil. “It’s a bluff. You idiots have no idea who you’re screwing with, do you?”

Max struggled to rise above the pain. Mucus trailed beneath his nose and down his chin. He could sense part of a tooth resting against his tongue and he spat it out. “We . . . we know the kind of people you are.” His voice shook, but the rage inside forced the words out in gasping breaths. “You would never . . . leave us alone without a reason.”

“And you believe holding copies of the diary is enough of a reason?”

“Unless . . . failure is an option.”

Forty feet away, Toshi began shouting and waving an arm towards the beach. “No! Don’t come. Stay away! Don’t come!” He was standing between Tomoko and the boat, acting as a shield, with his right hand pressed to his ear.

“Don’t come?” Lloyd stood and shouted. “Who the hell are you talking to?” His hand suddenly pointed. “Dammit. Get that thing off his head.”

One of the mercenaries charged forward, tore away the earpiece, and crushed it beneath an oversized boot.

Lloyd knelt back down. “Digital documents on the Internet and people eavesdropping on our meeting. You’ve really got this whole spy bull
shit
worked out, haven’t you, Mr. Travers?”

“Take your miserable fucking diary!” Max lay still on the ground. The warm taste of blood swam in the back of his throat. “We’re not going to talk about this, ’cause we know revealing Golden Lily would mean death.” He observed Lloyd’s face as the machinelike man mulled their fate. “You won’t gain anything by killing us . . . except the world discovering your secret. Take your prize . . . leave us alone and we all live.”

The moment was broken by a sudden burst of machine-gun fire searing the air.

“Sir, a group of people are moving up the beach toward this position. There’s a man wearing a motorcycle helmet leading them.”

Lloyd paced, glaring downward with burning eyes. “You had better be telling the truth about holding onto those copies. At least for the next year.” He waved his gun in emphasis. “After that, I don’t give a rat’s ass. You can deal with the next ‘Lloyd’ if you’re stupid enough to change your mind.”

“Understood.” Max nodded and wiped at the blood on his face. “We just want to live.”

“I’ll be watching and listening. One slip, one peep, and you won’t even see death coming.” He snapped his fingers. “It’ll be over.” Lloyd backed away, then paused. For just a brief instant, it appeared that he might change his mind, but he turned and jumped into the boat, followed by the two mercenaries. The dual engines roared to life as the maneuverable craft spun around before tearing away into the night.

M
ax barely regained his feet when he felt himself enveloped in a hug. Toshi was laughing hysterically. “You did it!”

“Owww! My ribs.”

“
Gomen
! Sorry.” The grip released instantly.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.”