Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
"Fear arrived before the army did." Reo's eyes moved over the map. "The fight was half over before it started."
"A mask is never just a mask."
Reo looked up at me.
"A banner is never just cloth. A nickname is never just a title. They become weapons aimed directly at human fear."
"So you don’t just want the Fox to come to the island, you want him already afraid when he arrives?"
"I want him fucking shaking before his plane leaves the ground."
The line of his jaw twitched. "The most dangerous warrior is not the strongest. It is the one who climbs into the enemy's head and makes him imagine defeat before the battle even begins."
I nodded. "Once fear controls the mind, violence merely finishes the job."
Reo leaned his head to the side. “How do we make the Fox get out of his hospital bed?”
“He’s terrified of bombs. Explosions all around that bed.”
That expression of disappointment covered Reo’s face. “Kenji. . .”
“I know. The Lion is an egotistical psychopath with nuclear weapons.”
“To use him is to put a dangerous fate to Japan. You know what Kazimir does after he’s helped a war end. He stays. He stayed in Crimea. He stayed in Syria. He stayed in Mali. The Lion never leaves the meat once he has tasted it.”
“I’ll deal with that later. Tonight, we need that feeling of danger. We need hysteria saturating every bit of air in Tokyo. That is what will get the Fox out of the bed and at Akiro’s side.”
Reo rubbed the temples on his forehead.
“Am I wrong?”
"Unfortunately, no.” Reo lowered his hand. “Explosions to Hotel Gajoen will make the Fox pull the tubes out of his arms and rush to the only person he thinks will surely keep him protected."
I met his eyes. "And we have people whisper all around Tokyo that there are assassination teams crawling all over the city searching for the Fox."
“He’ll be terrified.” Reo's gaze dropped back to the map.
For a long moment he said nothing. His hand hovered above the painted island, fingers slightly spread, as if he were already moving pieces I had not yet placed.
Reo looked back up at me. “And if he dies in the explosion?”
"If the Fox is in his bed when Hotel Gajoen crumbles, then fine. The rubble can have him. I'd prefer to cut him with my brother, but I'll take ash." I tapped the edge of the table. "If he survives. . .he runs. He's a coward in his marrow, Reo. Hotel Gajoen blowing under his feet will shatter him. Make him act erratically."
Reo narrowed his eyes. "He'll run to Akiro."
"He'll run straight to my brother because Akiro is the only place his shattered head will feel safe. He won't trust his bodyguards. Or the safehouses. He'll want family. He'll want blood." I tapped the island map. "And blood is coming here."
Reo took a slow breath.
"Both of them on my mother's island. Now that’s the true home advantage.” I picked up my phone and dialed the Lion.
I'd probably burn for the deal I would make with the Lion.
Tokyo may burn too.
But more importantly, my father would feel the heat of it all.
Chapter two
The Lion’s Roar
Kenji
The dial tone rang once, and then the Lion answered, telling me he was watching Japan with a bucket of popcorn in his lap.
"The Dragon." His voice came through the line amused. "I have been waiting for your call."
Surely, the Mosquito’s team had probably heard about Kiko's call to the Fox before we did and alerted the Lion.
In fact, he had probably known about the clinic fire before I'd stepped inside it. And then, the Lion sat somewhere with a cigar and a glass of vodka, waiting for me to break.
I frowned. “Good evening, Kazimir.”
“But, is it a good evening for you?”
You fucking asshole.
Before I could shape the ask in my mouth, the Lion began to speak. "There is a history of fathers and sons fighting on opposite sides of war. Did you know that?"
Goddamn it. I don’t have time for a fucking history lesson.
I closed my eyes for half a second. “Kazimir—”
"The English Civil War had fathers loyal to the king while sons joined Parliament. Entire bloodlines tore themselves apart because the younger generation refused to inherit the old world quietly."
Sighing, I checked my watch.
"Then came the Wars of the Roses. Fathers sacrificing sons. Sons betraying fathers. Families consuming themselves in pursuit of power while pretending it was honor."
A long pause came from his line. He was savoring this. Of course, he was. He had probably been rehearsing this speech for twenty fucking minutes and getting hard.
"And the Ottomans. . .ah. They understood it best of all."
I rolled my eyes. “And what did they understand, Kazimir?”
"That the father and heir cannot coexist forever. Most dynasties fear admitting that truth, but history repeats it endlessly."