TWENTY-THREE

Her long, dark hair was curly and wet around the bullet wound, her glittering red dress soaked in blood. Her face, now frozen by death’s icy touch, was a startling contrast to the picture of beauty that had first met Sierra’s eyes outside the Marino club earlier.

Sierra turned away from Tara’s broken body with a gentle sigh as he heard Ryu and Meyoko approaching from behind.

“Are you okay?” Ryu asked him. “Did you know this woman?”

Sierra didn’t respond. His mind was in another world entirely; stuck in the past. It was as though the wound of his past loss had just been reopened.

Standing there watching, Ryu couldn’t help but notice the gun belt that Sierra was wearing. The man who had just murdered the woman had been wearing one too. Ryu had heard stories long ago of the types of men who carried such belts; legendary warriors from down below the Panamanian border. Like much of the rest of the world, he had long thought the Guerreros to be myths. How much difference could single men make? The tales of bravery and professionalism in the art of killing he had heard about them sounded about as realistic to Ryu as the existence of aliens and wizards.

“Sierra!” a voice called out from across the club. “Jesus, hombre, what the hell just happened? That shit was crazy.”

All heads turned then as Vincent suddenly came charging out across the dance floor towards them. Ryu quickly found himself nose to nose with Sierra’s best friend and Esteban and Marco were not far behind him.

“Hey, hombre, get the fuck out of my way!” Vincent shoved Ryu hard in the ribs, pushing him aside. “I’m trying to check on my friend here!”

“No, it’s okay, Vincent, I’m fine,” Sierra said quickly to diffuse the heat of the situation. “They mean no harm. They were only trying to help me.”

Vincent’s eyes quickly darted between Ryu and Sierra, trying to take everything in, then he glanced down at the floor, to the woman Mickey Toma had just murdered. “Damn…”

“It was Toma,” Sierra said softly, tears briefly appearing in the corner of his eyes. “He did all this. He killed the girl. Just like he did to Lana…”

“Mickey Toma?” Vincent frowned in confusion. “What are you talking about?! You told me that you iced that bastardo back in San Lorenzo.”

“Well, obviously I was wrong.”

“Come on, Sierra, it is pretty dark in this place, are you even sure it was him? Where is he now?”

“Of course I am sure it was him!” Sierra growled. “You think I’d ever mistake that fucker’s face?! He shot the girl, roughed me up and then took off!” He pointed over to the shattered scenic window where Toma had made his escape.

“Meyoko! Ryu!” a voice called out from across the dance floor.

It was Kenji. He was walking over, with the support of Fido and Sakura.

“Kenji!” Meyoko quickly raced over and embraced her brother.

“Oh my god, you’re bleeding!” Meyoko’s eyes filled with concern, noticing the blood all over Kenji’s suit. “Are you hurt?”

Kenji waited for her to let go of him and then he forced a smile. “Only my pride. And my new suit…”

“Don’t worry,” Ryu grunted as he walked over to join them, “I’m sure you can spare it, what with all those hundred dollar bills you’ve been using lately for toilet paper, right, Kenji?”

Kenji winced in pain as he began to laugh. “Goddammit, Ryu, stop it! You’re killing me here!”

“What about the others? Did they get out?” Meyoko asked. “Daigoro? Hideo…?”

Kenji’s grave expression was all the answer she needed.

“Shit…” Ryu’s smile faded, his eyes shifting across to Fido. “Hey, who is this?”

“Says his name’s Fido,” Kenji shrugged. “Sounds about as legitimate to me as ‘John Smith’. But those Haitians would have made sushi out of me had he not shown up when he did, so… I really don’t give a shit what he’s called or where he’s from.”

“There’s no need to get all emotional or start offering me oral favours,” Fido said. “I’ve been after these guys now for quite some time. You were just lucky they chose tonight to try to kill you.”

Kenji nodded his appreciation, then he shifted his attention to Sierra and Vincent. “And what do we have here? You went and made some new friends without me, Ryu?”

“Yeah, you could say that; this guy saved our lives,” Ryu said, pointing at Sierra.

“Well then, he has my eternal gratitude.” Kenji walked over to Sierra and extended his hand. “And a friend of Ryu is a friend of mine. Give it time, you’ll probably even ditch him for me. Everybody else does.”

Sierra didn’t know exactly how to respond, so he just forced a smile and accepted the handshake.

A second later, Fido approached, his eyes fixated on the gun belt around Sierra’s waist. “That belt…” Fido said. “May I ask you where you got it?”

Sierra looked up at the stranger, a frown appearing on his face. “Why, do you want one like it?”

“I…” Fido began to say something, but then stopped himself. “Forget it, cowboy. It’s probably nothing.”

Fido looked around to the others. “Now, unless anyone feels like explaining this whole mess to the police, I suggest you all make yourselves scarce. I’m sure they’ll be here any time now.” Then he turned to leave and began walking out without even so much as a goodbye.

“That strange guy is right, we should probably get the hell out of here,” Kenji said. “We’ll take the limo Ryu and I arrived in; it should still be parked outside. We can go to our family’s old condo and regroup there for the night. It’s not far from here.”

“The condo?” Meyoko’s eyes widened. “Why don’t we just go back to the Kojima building?”

“Intuition.” Kenji glanced quickly around the club at all of the bullet-riddled corpses. “If any more of Lacroix’s crew are out looking for us, that’s where they’d be expecting us to go; they might even try intercepting us along the way. Right now my main priority is to keep you all safe. Father can help sort out this mess tomorrow, whenever he gets back from his trip.”

Kenji turned back to Sierra and Vincent. “You guys are free to come with us, or you can go your own way. Do as you wish, but I would not recommend staying. The police in this city really don’t like guns.” He looked straight at Sierra. “And you look like you know how to use one, so they’ll certainly have questions for you.”

“You’re right,” Sierra nodded, motioning to his friends. “Come on, let’s all get out of here.”

***

Just over ten minutes later, despite being off duty, Detectives Randy and Jackson were the first two policemen to arrive on the scene at the Marino Club. They entered the lobby with their weapons raised. Finding nothing out of the ordinary downstairs, they rode the elevator up to the top floor, which was where all the carnage had reportedly started, according to the few eyewitnesses who had made it out alive.

The two detectives did not even flinch at the sight of blood, severed limbs and bullets littered everywhere as they made their initial sweep of the bar area. But one sight did grab their attention.

“Shit!” Jackson nearly fell to floor in surprise, pointing with a shaking hand at the corpse of the Haitian killer Kirby Kosta.

“Fuck me dead!” Randy’s reaction was just as dramatic as his partner’s.

The two of them just stood there together in silence, the wail of police sirens all the while drawing nearer and nearer in the background. Then finally Randy, knowing his partner to be about as useful as a blunt steak-knife, took the initiative and got out his phone, He dialled up a number that he hated having to call even at the very best of times.

“El Maestro,” Randy loosened up his collar in nervous anticipation as the man picked up. “It’s Randy here. I’m at the Marino Club.”

“I know whose number this is, Detective,” the impatience was evident in El Maestro’s phone voice, even though it had been altered electronically. “Why the call?”

“Umm… well, it appears we have ourselves a bit of a problem here,” Randy cleared his throat. “You know those Haitain shooters we hired? Well… all five of the crew assigned to kill Kenji Kojima are dead.”

“How the fuck did that happen?!”

“I can’t say for sure yet. Jackson and I just arrived here. We’re still looking around.”

“Outstanding detective work, Detective. And what’s the status of Kenji Kojima?”

“Um… I don’t know. But I don’t think he’s here.”

“Then it sounds to me like the two of you have fucked up!”

Randy swallowed nervously. “Give us a chance to make things right.”

“I’ll think about it. In the meantime, keep your fucking phone turned on so I can reach you if I need you.”