“Something’s wrong.”

Oshun watched as all heads in the truck turned in her direction. Something was wrong, yet none of the officers watching the same screens that she was seemed to clue into that.

“Stein has changed the venue,” Heart answered. “That’s all. There’s no need to panic, yet. We have a car tailing them, we won’t lose Masaki.”

“No,” Oshun replied. “You see how Masaki keeps tapping his leg. He only does that tapping thing when something isn’t right. It’s like his sixth sense for when shit is about to go tits up. Something is not right. You need to pull him out of there now.”

“We can’t pull him yet. Nothing has happened. Just sit down and wait.”

The captain’s response made Oshun’s anger swell. She didn’t give a damn about this operation, only about Masaki. She wouldn’t allow anyone to put him in danger, not even her friend.

“Heart, friend or no, if something happens to Masaki because you didn’t listen to me, I will come for you.”

She watched the stoic captain straighten in her seat, and level her heavy gaze at Oshun. “Friend or no, badge or no, if you threaten me, you’d better be certain you can back that shit up,” Heart replied. The captain waited a beat, letting the tension bleed out of the moment before she continued. “I know you’re worried, Oshun. I promise you, we won’t let anything happen to him. Just let me do my job.”

Oshun sat back in her chair. Her breathing was labored as she pulled her eyes away from Heart, and refocused on the monitors tracking the car, Stein, and Masaki. As far as she could tell, they were in Red Hook now. That knowledge didn’t make her feel any better.

Red Hook was one of those communities that was very similar to Brownsville. Poverty had ravaged it. Somehow businesses with money began to see the value in the waterside area at the edge of Brooklyn, and decided there was money to be made there.

Now, old warehouses were turned into rental spaces for catering halls and galleries. But beneath all the prettiness gentrification brought in, the ugliness of the criminal world was still present.

“Captain Searlington, I’ve got Lieutenant Smyth on the line.” Heart nodded her okay to the officer, and soon the call was placed on speaker for all of them to hear.

“We’re still tailing the car. From the GPS tracker we have on the camera, we know they’re somewhere near the waterfront. When we get closer, we should have a solid location on the car,” Smyth stated.

“Hurry up and get me a location, Smyth. I’ll get you guys some backup from the local PD,” Heart responded. “Be careful with this one, Bryan. Oshun says something’s not right. If anything seems off, you pull Yamaguchi out immediately.”

“Copy that,” Smyth returned before signing off the line.

While Heart stopped to contact the local precinct, Oshun slipped quietly into the front of the truck, closed the connecting door behind her, and pulled her burner phone out. If Masaki was in trouble, she wanted all hands on deck. She couldn’t leave it to the police to make certain nothing happened to him.

She thought of the most likely ally to answer her appeal for help in this area, and dialed frantically. She prayed she’d hear the telling, “Who dis?” on the other end soon.

“Emmons,” she murmured. “Come on. Pick up, dammit. I need you to pick up.”

There was no answer. Not even a voicemail to cry her desperate plea to. Oshun’s chest ached with panic. The more she tried to think of allies that could and would help her, the less she was able to string a coherent thought together. She was the great organizer, and yet when it mattered, she couldn’t come up with a basic plan to save her man.

Heart had called it. She’d counseled Oshun that she couldn’t control everything. And now, when it mattered most, life had chosen this very dark moment to prove that point to her in a perilous way.

* * *

Masaki stepped inside of the dimly lit warehouse, calculating his next move. He was strapped, his gun sitting in the small of his back, if he needed it, another secured inconspicuously on his ankle. The cops had tried to stop him from bringing it with him, but an open-carry permit proved to be a valuable thing in situations like these. He’d have to thank Stein for that privilege when he put a bullet in him later.

“Not that big a fan of the new digs, Stein,” Masaki commented. “But, I guess they’ll do in a pinch. Anyone else attending the party?”

Stein stood there in his expensive suit, looking every part the mouthpiece he was. Masaki was pissed with himself that he hadn’t figured the son of a bitch for the rat bastard that he was without Oshun’s help.

There she was again, even when he was seething with anger, she was there in the middle of his thoughts, making everything better. By now, he should’ve accepted that as her role in his life. If he had, maybe the last set of words he’d spoken to her wouldn’t have been in anger.

He rolled his shoulders, trying to release some of the stiffness there. It didn’t matter how foolish he’d been, Masaki knew he had to make things right with her.

The heavy slide of the metal door opening pulled Masaki’s attention away slightly. He watched a hulking figure step inside and slide the door closed again.

About time the undercover cop got here.

As the newcomer neared, the hair on the back of Masaki’s neck stood up. Something was wrong.

The Caucasian man, an inch or two taller than Masaki, stood next to Stein. His bald head and broad chest just added to the menacing picture the stranger presented. From a distance, he looked similar to the undercover detective Lieutenant Smyth had shown Masaki a picture of earlier. But, upon closer inspection, the man’s facial structure was more angular, where the detective’s face was rounded. This was not the same man.

Although this threw an unexpected turn in Masaki’s plan, it didn’t deter Masaki from his goal. If this dude wanted trouble, he was just another body to dispose of when shit went down.

“Who’s your guest, Stein?” Masaki’s voice was calm, with no hint of the alarm he felt zipping through him. He casually moved toward a stack of boxes and leaned on them with his hands folded behind his back, and his ankles crossed. Keeping things calm was the only way to ensure he walked out of here alive.

“This is my new associate in a business venture I’ve recently taken on. His name is Mr. Charles,” Stein replied. “Were you expecting someone else, Masaki? Perhaps the undercover detective you and Ms. Sampson had the police send my way? Fortunately, Mr. Charles recognized the detective from a previous encounter. Otherwise, who knows how this meeting might have turned out.”

Masaki didn’t react. He didn’t allow anything but his objective of getting out of this scenario alive to determine his next move. He could see the expectation in Stein’s eyes. The man was waiting for Masaki to tip his hand. “Not sure that I know what you’re talking about, Stein. Not even sure I really care. Now, this new business venture, that seems like something I should be interested in,” Masaki stated calmly. “Since you work for me, am I getting a cut?”

Stein laughed, and spared a knowing glance to his associate. One that screamed of some secret knowledge that only the two of them shared.

Masaki’s lips bent into a smile too. He chuckled slowly, as he inched his hand around the butt of his weapon, securing it in his grip.

“Mr. Yamaguchi,” Stein continued. “I’m afraid tonight will serve as my notice to rescind my appointment as your attorney. I’ve decided to take on bigger things, such as buying up the land you’d intended to lease from the Brownsville Council, and making a mint on a development deal from the city.”

“Ah, so you plan to cheat me, Stein? That can’t be right. You know how badly a move like that would be for your health. You might want to think about that again.”

Stein shook his head. “I’ve thought about it in depth. The one-point-five billion I stand to make is more than enough to keep me healthy and happy, Masaki.”

Masaki gripped the handle of his gun even tighter, readying himself for the moment he would have to draw his weapon. It was no longer an “if” situation. There was no way Masaki was walking out of here alive if he didn’t set it on the man he once trusted. The cold, blank look of indifference in Stein’s eyes told Masaki this had devolved into a situation where words wouldn’t help.

“Even if I weren’t going to kill you over this, Stein, which I most assuredly am, how do you think you’re going to get away with this? The Brownsville Council is never going to sell to you.”

“Ah, and you would know this since you’re fucking their leader, right?”

A chill ran down Masaki’s spine. Any delusion he had about Stein only wanting him dead was completely erased in that moment. Stein intended both Masaki and Oshun to fall prey to this deal he was making.

Masaki eased the gun out of its holster, knowing he had to be careful, but quick, if he was going to blaze his gun before Stein’s henchman. As it was, Masaki could see the man carefully sliding his own weapon from behind his back.

“I actually approached both your right hands to see if there was a possibility of brokering a deal,” Stein offered. “I mean, I knew you wouldn’t go for it, but I needed to see if she would. I offered both Izzy and Aesop ten million dollars each to either convince the two of you to go along with the sale, or to take you and Ms. Sampson out of the game. Guess what? They each chose to off you and your consort. Imagine my surprise when I realized money could in fact buy loyalty.”

“Too bad it can’t buy you a longer life,” Masaki countered as he raised his gun arm, aiming it at the muscle Stein had hired, taking the large man down with two bullets to the head. Suddenly, Masaki heard return fire. He ducked behind a barricade of boxes, peeking around them to see Stein walking toward his hiding space with a raised revolver.

“You weren’t half the man your father was, Masaki. He would never have made the concessions you’ve made as leader of the Canarsie Yakuza.”

“He also didn’t make as much money as I did either,” Masaki yelled as he continued to watch Stein move closer to his crouched down position. “The more you kill, the less likely people are to do business with you.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Stein’s voice was shaky with excitement. There was no doubt in Masaki’s mind that sick fucker was taking some sort of pleasure in this. “When you’re gone, I make this deal, and take over your leadership. It will all be mine.”

Masaki waited a second more, until Stein was in perfect position, then pushed the boxes over until they collapsed on Stein. In doing so, Masaki lost his balance too, toppling over with the boxes as well. His gun slid across the floor as he attempted to break his fall.

Slightly stunned by the fall, Stein shook his head, and locked eyes on Masaki’s spinning gun at the same time. They both lunged for it, scrambling on the floor on hands and knees, trying to wrap their fingers around it.

In the end, Stein’s position placed him an inch closer to the gun, and he snatched it up a second before Masaki could get to it.

Masaki lay sprawled on the floor, half sitting, half lying down. He watched Stein carefully stand up as he kept the gun pointed at him. With a sinister smile and an overt air of confidence, Stein touched two fingers to his own brow in a mock salute to Masaki.

“‘O Captain! My Captain! Our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won—’”

Masaki reached for his backup weapon attached to his ankle, aimed, and fired before Stein could recite another line from the famous Whitman poem. Simultaneously, Masaki heard the loud thunder of another gun fire, and waited for the impact, for the pain, and darkness of death to come. At such close range, there was no way he would survive.

He waited to see the bright light of the other side. Certain that this was the point an old film reel of his life should be slowly moving across his gaze. But at the moment, the only memory he could form in his mind was the very second he’d seen Oshun for the first time, and his need to make her his.

He heard more voices. Some familiar, but most not, as he continued to wait for the nothingness he believed death was supposed to bring. His gaze focused once more on Stein, refusing to give that bastard the satisfaction of seeing Masaki cower in fear. Stein wore a look of surprise on his face. His hand pressed to his chest, as a thick, spreading stream of blood slipped through his fingers.

A second later, Stein dropped to the floor. Masaki saw Lieutenant Smyth standing with his gun drawn, and smoke wafting in the air from the tip of its barrel.

After a quick glance down at himself, Masaki realized he hadn’t been shot. Both Masaki’s and the lieutenant’s bullets had neutralized Stein before he’d had a chance to fire at Masaki.

“I told you, Yamaguchi,” the smiling lieutenant said. “Be easy. We got this.”