"And for all you know he may be in Brazil by now. Perhaps that's the reason he and the woman disappeared last night, with the help of an accomplice who assaulted Igor Borisovich."
"Michael will be there," Novosty said. "Have no fear. He's not going anywhere till this is finished."
"After this is completed," she said matter-of-factly, "he will be finished. I hope you have planned for that."
Novosty glanced over, wondering what she meant. Had all the surprises been covered? He hoped so, because this deal was his gateway to freedom. The two million commission would mean a new beginning for him.
Kenji Nogami sat upright at his wide oak desk, waiting for the phone to ring. How would Michael play it? Admittedly it was smart to keep everything close to the chest, but still. He would have felt better if Michael Vance, Jr., had favored him with a little more trust.
On the other hand, keeping the details of the operation under wraps as long as possible was probably wise. It minimized the chance for some inadvertent slip-up.
Yes, it was definitely best. Because he was staring across his desk at four of Tanzan Mino's Tokyo _kobun_, all dressed in shiny black leather jackets. They'd arrived at the Docklands office just after dawn, announcing they were there to hand-deliver the money to Tokyo. Jiro Sato had directed them to Westminster Union.
The four all carried black briefcases, which did not contain business papers. They intended to accomplish their mission by whatever means necessary. Jiro Sato, the London _oyabun_, had not been invited to send his people along with them this morning. He was now humiliated and dis- graced, officially removed from the operation, on Tokyo's orders. The regional office had failed, so Tokyo had sent in a _Mino-gumi_ version of the Delta Force. They clearly had orders concerning what to do with Michael Vance.
He didn't like this new twist. For everything to go according to plan, violence had to be kept out of it. There was no way he and Michael could go head to head with street enforcers. If Michael was thinking of doing that, the man was crazy.
He glanced at his gold Omega, noting that it read ten- nineteen. In eleven more minutes he'd know how Michael intended to run the scenario.