Page 54 of Untouchable Queen
Someone sounds the alarm, and feet patter across the wood panels of the wraparound porch before a door slides open and closed on smooth tracks. I signal Luca and Tullio to fall in behind me, and a contingent of ten men made equally of Tatiana’s soldiers and my own stay with us.
“If any of them so much as make a move, kill them,” I command the soldiers who remain near the convoy. I don’t like leaving Tatiana outside—out of my range of view—but there’s no doubt in my mind that Saturo is hiding in the house somewhere, waiting to spring some kind of trap, so I can’t bring her with me.
Again, the sprawling Japanese-style mansion feels deserted, the rooms empty except for the spartan personal effects that decorate them. We creep from room to room, looking for any sign of theoyabun, but it’s like he vanished.
He couldn’t have known we were coming. Tatiana and I didn’t even have this plan locked in place until late last night, so unless someone was spying at the gathering this morning Saturo has to be here. My lookout placed him at his house just under an hour ago. Tingling intuition creeps up my spine, the hair liftingon the back of my neck as I enter the next room. I feel eyes on me even though the space is devoid of life.
Then I look up.
I don’t know Japanese, but it’s not hard to recognize the command to attack, and several kudo fighters jump down from the rafters into our midst, drawing knives before we even have a chance to raise our guns.
As one, the fighting explodes into action across the estate. I can hear the gunfire coming from the driveway, and my stomach knots as my thoughts go straight to Tatiana and her safety. It’s enough of a distraction, I barely step back in time to dodge the sweeping strike that would have cut me open from shoulder to the opposite hip.
But I’m not messing around today. Lifting my gun a fraction, I pull the trigger, lodging a bullet in the fighter’s thigh before he can come at me again. He drops to the ground howling, and as my men take out the yakuza fighters around me, I kneel to wrench the knife from his grasp.
“Where is Saturo?” I demand, holding the blade to the man’s throat.
The words that hiss from his mouth aren’t English, but it’s not hard to gather their meaning when he spits in my face. I take a moment to wipe the saliva from my cheek, keeping my expression calm and emotionless. Then I drive the knife into the man’s hand, pinning it to the ground.
“Tell me where he is,” I command, pulling a knife of my own from my pocket and flicking it open.
Saturo’s man glances down at it, his eyes widening, and a flash of fear crosses his face. I know exactly how to dole out pain to get the answers I’m searching for, and as the last of Saturo’s men drop lifeless on the ground around us, he knows that no one’s coming to help him.
“Please,” he says, shuffling away from me on his back, but he can’t go far with his hand keeping him in place. “I don’t know. He didn’t tell me anything.”
“No? Then why were you in here? Are you protecting him?” I grab the man’s ear, bringing my blade up to his face to make it perfectly clear what I intend to do next.
The man releases a defiant scream, but even if his mouth is unwilling to betray Saturo, his eyes have a more instinctual need for self-preservation. They flick toward a bamboo rug covering the center of the floor—just for a moment—before he glares up at me.
“Go to h?—”
I cut his words short as I slash his throat and come to a stand, watching the blood leave his body in spurts. Tatiana’s men stand in stunned silence before Dima slowly raises his eyes to me.
“How are we supposed to find Saturo now?” he asks.
I can hear the effort it takes not to make the question sound impertinent, and I give a cold smile as I raise my finger to my lips. Then I silently signal my men to pull back the bamboo rug. They do, slowly and quietly, careful not to make a sound, and beneath the rug is a trap door with a simple metal ring to open it. Luca wraps his fingers around it, standing back toward the trap door’s hinges so he won’t be in the direct line of fire. Then he waits for my signal.
“Let’s go,” I state coldly, gesturing for Dima and his men to block off the exits. “He’s not here,” I add. If we can catch Saturo by surprise, he might not have an attack readied—the surest way to save my men’s lives.
The Sokolov men do a decent job of making it sound like everyone is leaving the room. And for a moment, everyone pauses, all eyes on me.
As soon as I give the signal, Luca hauls the trap door open, and I step forward along with five of my men, aiming ourguns into the small cellar below. Saturo stands there, his hands halfway to the gun at his belt, two guards standing behind him, who reach for their weapons despite ours already being drawn. Saturo flinches, curling in on himself as my men open fire, dropping his guards in a matter of seconds.
“Out,” I command as soon as the ringing ricochet of bullets subsides.
With a cold glare, theoyabundoes as I say.
“Hands in plain sight,” I add as he starts to climb the simple wooden steps.
As soon as he’s at the top step, my men are on him, wrenching the yakuza leader’s arms behind his back to restrain him.
It’s a decisive victory. Saturo should have known he couldn’t outmaneuver us. Then again, I don’t think he realized he would be facing my men and Tatiana’s. He should have known better from the last time. As we march him back to the convoy, it’s clear to see we won the firefight out here as well. Countless yakuza litter the ground where they fell, bullets riddling their bodies. They might have fought hard, but they’re no match for our weapons and our armored vehicles’ natural form of defense.
Tatiana stands at the head of the vehicles, her sister by her side and a ring of our combined forces around her. “You took him alive?” she asks, a hint of surprise in her tone.
“I wanted to give you the opportunity to bear witness to his execution—if you’d like.” I know she doesn’t like the sight of blood, but I thought this might be an exception to the rule after the stunt he pulled, and I do intend to put Saturo on his knees before executing him for daring to lay a finger on my wife.
Tatiana’s lips press into a thin, determined line, and she gives a single curt nod. “Do it.”
