and followed him into a lounge. The room was expensively furnished in stark black and white, a glimpse of the harbor visible through the window between two much taller apartment blocks. She waved for him to sit on a stylish but, as it turned out, not especially comfortable leather couch. “So you’re here, kiddo. I guess you want to know what I want from you in return for telling you how to find Alexander Stikes.”
“It’d crossed my mind.”
Scarber lit a cigarette, then almost as an afterthought offered him one. “We’d like you to do something for us.”
“We?” Eddie asked as she held out her expensive lighter.
“The people I represent. We have a mutual enemy.”
“Stikes?”
She shook her head. “Stikes is part of it, but no big deal to us.”
“He is to me.”
“I know. Which is why my proposal will benefit us both.”
He leaned back and blew out smoke. “So get to the point, then. What’s the job?”
Scarber slowly paced across the lounge, a line of smoke trailing behind her. “Stikes stole something from your wife—three stone figures.”
Eddie stiffened. “Those statues?” he snapped. “For fuck’s sake! You know how many people have died because of those fucking things—and now you want me to get them for you?”
“No. We don’t want you to get them. We want you to destroy them.”
It took him a second to get over his surprise. “Now, that’s more like it.”
“We both know that the statues have unusual properties—properties that could be very dangerous if they fall into the hands of the wrong people. That can’t be allowed to happen.”
“And how do you know that?”
“I’ve got access to certain classified information. Including the IHA’s files on earth energy.”
He shot her a mistrustful look. “You’re a spook, aren’t you? CIA?”
“Former spook,” Scarber replied. “Now I’m what you might call a freelancer.”
“Not a big fan of spooks. Been fucked over by them a few times. They tend to lie about what they’re really doing.”
The accusation didn’t bother her. “Nature of the business, kiddo.”
“So what is your business? Why’re you so keen to destroy the statues? Who are you working for?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, it bloody does.”
She abruptly crossed back to him, face hardening. “Do you want to know where Stikes is or not? This is the situation: We want the statues destroyed. Stikes has the statues. You want to kill Stikes. It’s a simple enough proposition—we tell you where he is, you find him, destroy the statues … and then you can do whatever you want with him. We’ll even pay you. How does half a million dollars sound?”
“I’d kill Stikes for free … but yeah, half a mil sounds pretty good,” said Eddie. He had spent the last three months hunting for Stikes, and this was by far the closest he had come to tracking down his nemesis. However, there were too many aspects of the deal he didn’t like, not least Scarber’s secrecy about her employer. “But …”
“There’s something else we can offer,” she said, seeing his hesitancy. “We can make the charges against you go away. Completely. You’ll be able to go home. To your wife.”
Eddie was silent for a long moment. “How can you manage that?”
“Let’s just say my employers have a lot of influence.”
His suspicion returned. “Then why do they need me to do this job?”
“Because you’re very highly motivated. I’ve read your IHA file too; you’re extremely good at what you do. If anyone can get to Stikes, you can.”
“So I take it he’s not just hanging out by a pool somewhere. Where is he?”
“Do we have a deal?”
He considered it … then nodded. “Where’s Stikes?”
“Japan. Tokyo, specifically. But he’ll be hard to reach. We can get you into the building, but you’ll have to make your own way to him from there.”
“What building?”
Scarber finished her cigarette. “The headquarters of Takashi Industries.”
SIX
Tokyo
It was Nina’s first visit to Japan, and she looked out at the sprawling city from the limo that had collected her from Narita Airport with great interest. As a New Yorker, she was no stranger to tall buildings, but the differences between those of her home and Tokyo intrigued her, not least the way that some rooftops were home to so many garish billboards and advertising banners that they resembled clipper ships, about to set sail across the urban sea.
One building stood out—not because it was festooned with signs, but instead because several wind turbines rose gracefully above its roof. She guessed it to be around fifty stories tall, nothing remarkable by New York