CHAPTER 6 - HER PAINTINGS
1142 Words
Somewhere in Japan
Klaus didn’t mind the con men who roamed around the busy streets in Kitakyushu, or the prostitutes who are desperately trying to find some customer and their pimps, as long as they don’t bother him and kept their noses out of his business. He was tempting fate one step too far. And now he was way past the second step too. He was in this foreign land of totally screwed from learning new language and bereaving from the thought that he lost sister. In his nine years of fighting his way to look for Atasha’s whereabouts, he’d never been this far over the line. Not even close.
He’d learned to take the risk, pushing his limits that led him to numerous opportunities in business, legally as we may say or even dealing with the yakuza’s in Japan.
And right now, he is just here in his favorite noodle house, as his sworn brother-business partner preparing his favorite noodles. Chef Nakashi Nakamoto moves so deftly as he boils, strains and arranges his signature plates of udon. And one couldn’t missed to overlook this chef’s missing left pinkie, the brutal reminder of their former life.
Nakashi lost his left pinkie by breaking a rule of the Yakuza just by saving Klaus and his friends, Stefan and Hans, nine years ago in the borders of Japan.
Together with the support of Stefan, Hans, Klaus and Nakashi Nakamoto, He rose through the ranks of the Kudo-kai, a violent syndicate of the once-powerful yakuza, a Japanese criminal network whose membership has been chipped away by more-aggressive law enforcement.
With that Klaus and Nakashi tried to reinvent themselves after a life within the family-like hierarchies of the yakuza, ruled by a strict code of loyalty. Out there, was a full-throated roar, members are often conspicuous, with full-body tattoos and pinkies amputated by the mob as punishment for wrongdoing. Until, yakuza groups had become so brazen and financially powerful that authorities across Japan enacted ordinances prohibiting any business or person from being associated with a yakuza member or activity.
With that, Klaus mastered the art of disguises, he became so good at his job that he was elected as the first in command of the Kudo-kai gang.
Just like tonight, he was getting ready with his men for another big time assignment. He punched the sink as he remember how he almost had the chance of tracing his sister. He had known that she was still in the borders of West Germany and this syndicate group almost destroyed her sister. Tonight might be his chance to catch one of Hunter’s men.
Standing in front of the comfort room mirror in the Noddle House, he adjusted the gray knit hat over his head and laughed. Through the years of experience of changing appearances, Klaus was still amazed at the transformation from the Leader of Kudo-kai gang to a street bum. His look made him even more scruffy. And his smell, it was so pungent! He moved his hand to his back to check the gun in his pocket and his knife in his waistband. Under the ragged look, stench jacket, all weapons are completely invisible.
‘Hunter, I will come to you, and to your godson. When that day comes, I will shred you into pieces. And I will gladly let you taste hell itself.’ He muttered as he silently walked out passing the back door of the Noodle house.
To completely in the role, Klaus started walking across the streets dragging his right leg just like his saw a beggar the other day in the next street begging for food. He heard his men’s approval in his in-ear piece for his performace as a disable man. After only three days of practice, he mastered being a limp.
With only a few minutes to spare, his men checked the area and the location. His assigned post was at the rooftop of an Art Gallery and thankfully they have an easy access to that building.
Klaus put on his gloves and mentally praised his men for the perfect location. He jammed his hands in his pocket and hunched his shoulders against the chilly Japan air and started limping through the streets in Kitakyushu. His team are already in the position.
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Klaus’ throat run dry, and his palms turns damped as he stood still in the still-empty art gallery of Kitakyushu. He longingly gazed at the collection of black-and white-paintings, photographs, artworks, artfully displayed on the walls. He is not normally emotional about arts, or paintings but his tears welled up and was suddenly overwhelmed at the sight of his sister’s accomplishment and all that is meant. Some of this displayed paintings are his Atasha’s, when she was nine years old. Especially the “Juliet Rose” it was painted delicately.
This was her Atasha’s dream. To paint and to exhibit her arts. Even before displaying this pieces into the city’s art center, Klaus had another bout of anxiety and doubts. If she was with him, will his sister allow him to display her pieces to be seen by countless of tourist around the world? And will his sister allow him to showcase her talent? And the most important question that had been bugging him throughout this years, will that day come that his little sister can see her pieces in this prestigious art center?
This guilt lingers on Klaus when Hans, now his personal bodyguard signaled him to go up in the rooftop.
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Few minutes later, a cold February breeze blew in his face, forcing him to pull his coat collar. He saw below him the train that had flown past at full speed. The train was loud and firefighters are so busy trying to out the fire. He can feel the growing hot air that might hurt to breathe on the fire fighters. Klaus acute sense of smell for smoke, burning pitch, and carbon had long since been overwhelmed by his emotions. He smiled when he remembered his little Tasha on their first attempt on the hot air balloon.
Klaus screwed his face into a frown. He clawed for his pocket watch, studied its face in some wonderment, then pocketed it. It was now close to 10 pm and still there was not a movement from his men.
‘Brother, how it is going to your end?’ He radioed Stefan.
‘Negative Boss, even the pigeons haven’t shown up yet’ Stefan radioed back.
That silenced him.
He turned to meet Hans gazed.
‘Are you okay, Boss?’ Hans managed to lighten up his building up rage.
‘Hahaha…Franco Stavos, I’m itching to blow your head off! Biding your time, huh? It’s not going to work on me.’ Now he was laughing like a mad man!
- Writer
