Read Online [Thomas Caine #1] Tokyo Black by Andrew Warren - Free Book Online Page A

flight?”
    “Okay. The food was bad, and I already saw the movie. But I bought a book in the airport. Have you read any Basho?”
    “No. I’m more of a Murakami fan.” The responses were all correct. The names of the authors they used signified that neither party was speaking under duress, or suspected others were listening in.
    “Do you have an update for me?”
    “No, the deadline is the same. Four days. And keep in mind, the home office didn’t approve these expenses, so it’s vital these negotiations are successful.”
    Great. Typical Bernatto . The higher ups at the CIA hadn’t approved his little favor for Kusaka. Probably didn’t even know he was in Japan.
    “I’ll do my best,” he said. “And Rebecca?”
    “Yes?”
    “Next time you hear from me, it will be a different number.”
    “What? That’s not—”
    He hung up on her, popped the back off the phone, and removed the battery and SIM card. Then he dropped the bundle in a trash can as he walked past. He would keep her informed of his progress, but he had no intention of letting her, or anyone else at the CIA, track his movements.
    He walked up to a waiting taxicab. As he approached, the rear door automatically swung open, powered by a motor. For some reason, this strange little detail made him smile. He left his bags on the sidewalk, but watched to make sure the attendant placed them in the open trunk.
    The driver, an older man, looked back and blinked. “Park Hyatt, Onegai shimasu ,” Caine said.
    The cabbie smiled, his eyes wide with surprise. Caine’s Japanese was not fluent, but it was better than the average tourist. As the car pulled away from the curb, he realized his instructions were the first time he had spoken the language since….
    He halted that train of thought. Instead, he took in another deep breath of the cold night air. Here, far from the metropolitan center of Tokyo, the countryside consisted of rolling hills, dark against the moonlit sky. The air smelled of trees and grass and damp earth. It was invigorating. Caine closed his eyes and cleared his mind.
    The past is in the past. Deal with it later. You’re working now. 
    He opened his eyes and focused on the rear-view mirror. He scanned the traffic behind them, looking for headlights that seemed too close or matched their movements. From time to time, he would look at the cars that drove alongside them. He searched for warning signs that they were being followed, but each car seemed to pursue its own, independent path. Each driver was moving towards their own destiny in the dark, cold night.
    Occasionally, he would take interest in a driver or passenger, a pretty girl or a young man with glasses, flowers on the passenger seat next to him. He wondered where they were going, what waited for them at their destination.
    If only you could answer that question for yourself.
    The cab ride from Narita to Metro Tokyo was normally about an hour, but Caine requested several stops along the way. First, he asked the driver to pull into the parking lot of a convenience store. “ Chotto matte ,” he apologized. Just a moment .
    With practiced ease, he rubbed his eyes and tilted his head down as he entered the store and walked past the counter, obscuring his features from the domed security camera.
    The clerk, a younger man maybe in his early twenties, greeted him with the traditional welcome: “ Irashimasee .” He didn’t even look up from his manga as he said it. Caine approached the newsstand in front of the shop window. He flipped through a few magazines, letting himself dissolve into the background of the store.
    Another man came in, wearing a suit and tie. He trudged over to the glass cabinet of cold drinks and grabbed a strange-looking beverage, whose label read “Pocari Sweat.” Then he made his way up to counter. Business as usual.
    Caine looked up from his magazine to scan the parking lot outside. He was looking for cars that lingered too long—people standing alone,