grandkids around their waist, shot dead. Nowhere in the city is safe. Nowhere.”
Tears came. Gemma reached out, touched his shoulder. He recoiled as if Gemma sought to do him harm.
“Don’t touch me! I won’t let anyone touch me here.”
“Okay, I’m sorry,” said Gemma, her hands raised in apology. “I’m going to do my best for you, George. I’ll look for you in the morning.”
“Nowhere is safe,” he repeated.
***
Ryan marched through the double doors expecting the worst in a situation he did not understand. Instead of cohorts of henchmen waiting to dispose of his body in the most untraceable of ways, he found a solitary man scribbling furiously at an opulent desk, tubular table lamps at two corners. Mr. Crispin?
Crispin was unsmiling, and set aside his pen, sat back in his chair and tented his fingers. “Welcome, Ryan. Please, take a seat.”
Ryan smiled as if meeting a good friend — it couldn’t hurt — and took the offered seat. The man before him was older, maybe late sixties, small fashionable glasses perched on a slightly hooked nose. He wore a beard, more grey than black now. When he spoke, he did so with an accent of education. English, with the fading hint of an expatriate.
“I trust your journey here was uneventful despite the new restrictions at the border?”
Ryan nodded. “Yes, sir, Mr …”
“I’m Hector Crispin. You’ve come to know me as Mr. Nippon. A silly, little title designed to protect my identity when dealing with unknown factors. You should know, Ryan, that very few people meet me face to face. Our meeting tonight isn’t by chance. Everything results from a perfectly calculated decision. Had we not seen something in you that was worth our investment you would not be here.”
Ryan cleared his thought and shifted in his chair. “Of course, Mr. Crispin. I mean, Mr. Nippon.”
There was no clarification as to what title this man expected.
“What I require of you will become evident over the next few days and weeks. We’ll be spending time together. You proved yourself useful once to us, Ryan, and assets that prove useful are compensated for their efforts. There is no limit to what we can achieve together. Now, for the next few days, I’d like you to acclimatise yourself with your surroundings. Some of our associates will no doubt make themselves known to you. I would ask that you do not leave this building for the time being. Tokyo is a vast city, easy to become disorientated in when you don’t know where you’re going. Is all understood?”
“Yes … um, what do I call you? Mr. Nippon?”
“Mr. Nippon has served its purpose between us, Ryan. You may call me Hector. If there’s nothing else? I’m sure you’re fatigued.”
“Who are we, and who is us?” The words hung in the air. For one terrible moment, Ryan believed he stepped too far.
“We are The Owls of Athena, Ryan. And you are made welcome.”
***
A hand clamped down on Gemma’s mouth, violently rousing her from sleep. She fought the unseen assailant, fingernails digging into skin, her legs kicking out.
“Gemma. Gemma. It’s me. Dylan. You need to calm down.” He shook her. “Be quiet.”
The sound of the soldier’s voice reassured her enough to stop the fight as the bonds of sleep fell away. Dylan knelt on the edge of her bed. She pulled the covers tight to her chin. He pulled his hand away from her mouth. In the dark of her room it was difficult to focus, the light poor.
“What is it?” she hissed.
“Trouble. I need you to stay calm. Get dressed.”
He went to the door, rifle in hand, watching the corridor. Gemma grabbed at her discarded clothes and using her bedcovers to maintain some dignity, pulled them on. Not that Dylan took any interest. He stayed at the door, his back to her. She slipped from the bed and pulled on her boots. She had no idea how long she had been asleep.
“What’s happening?”
Dylan moved from the doorway to the corridor window. He