Free with You

Chapter 8: First Impressions

Sammy POV

“Kubo likes 4 mile hikes every Saturday, baths twice a week, and he only eats Salmon kibble,” I say to Max over the encrypted video call, “—and he…”

Max puts a hand up to stop me.

“Sam, you’ve told me this about ten times since you left him with me. The dog is fine,” he says face palming.

“Okay. okay. I guess I’m just nervous, ya know. It’s been a minute since I’ve had to be face to face with cold blooded murderers,” I say while meticulously unpacking my clothes and weapons from my suitcase.

For the last few days, Max booked me a room at a five star resort in Manzanillo Mexico, as they finish loading the containers.

“You never seem to have a problem around me,” he winks at me with his toothy grin, “I’m probably more dangerous than any of those goons out there.”

“Yeah well, you’re different,” I shoot back. I’m not even looking at the camera anymore, as I take off my clothes, until I’m down in my black spandex shorts and sports bra.

I try not to hesitate in my undressing, because I’ve always needed to prove that I’m one of the guys. I do notice that while I’m undressing, Max is awfully quiet…

Eh, let him watch.

Now I’m sliding knives in my ankle holsters and my 9mm into a holster on my waist wrap.

“You’re just going in for the introduction Sam. Shake a few hands and make some friends. No need to get violent,” Max says with a bit of a tease.

I laugh to myself, because I know Max is watching me conceal my weapons.

“Plus, I’ve got a team of intel who have been briefed on the mission. If they’re asian, they’re on your side,” he repeats again for the fifth time.

“No s**t,” I say, “—And before you repeat this again, my name is Hana Nomura. I am the reigning heir to the Yakuza clan of Tokyo and my father’s second hand man.”

I wink at him and I swear he blushes pink, as I pull a tighter than normal button down shirt over my waist band and tuck it into my black suit pants.

I really wish I could wear my normal baggy combat pants and oversized T-shirt, but it would look too conspicuous for asian military to be seen at the port in Mexico. If it’s a trade deal, we need to be seen as a normal Japanese business team.

I finish off the look with a black blazer and pull my hair into a tight bun. I look at Max and his eyes are cast downwards like he’s distracted under his desk, and he’s shifting in his seat. He notices that I’m watching him now and he straightens up.

“No, that’s good. It’s looking like my brainwashing skills are being put to good use,” he says. I lift my eyebrow at him. “It works out because no one has ever met Nomura’s daughter, there’s no pictures, but she definitely exists. Just well hidden for good reason, I suppose,” he says leaning back in his leather desk chair.

Max is dressed in a grey crew neck today, his arms flexing and straining against his tight shirt, as he puts his hands behind his head.

He’s staring at me with his strikingly blue eyes again and with an unreadable expression. His recent oncoming behavior, along with the awkward silence is making me uncomfortable. I figure this is good a time as any.

“Time for me to go,” I say. Max suddenly jumps up toward the camera and stops me.

“Sam, I know we aren’t scheduled for an update until tomorrow, but I want to make sure you’re alright, after the meet. Can you call me, once it ends?” Max asks concern laced in his eyes.

“Sure, will do.” At that, I finally hang up.

A second later, I hear knocks at my door. I grab my gun, creep up against the wall and ask, “Who is it?”

“Bosu… osoto ni matte imasu (Boss…we’ll wait outside),” says a random guy in Japanese outside the door.

Ah.

These must be my men.

I look through the peep hole, and sure enough, there are about 10 asian men in black suits lined up along the hallway, like an army of penguins. I guess it’s time to play my part.

**

*One hour later*

**

We arrive in two blacked out Escalades, everyone on my team walking out in sync. They huddle around me, as I walk out toward the white building at the port.

Apparently, this is where the initial meet and greet is to take place.

We all walk in, grab our visitor badges at the front desk, and then walk toward the conference room reserved for us.

I take a seat at the head of an oblong marble table, my elbows resting on the cold surface, with my hands clasped together in front of me.

It’s 10 minutes before the meeting time, and I’ve been told by Max, that I’ll be meeting with the cartel boss’s right hand man.

I just hope he doesn’t make my life a living hell for the next couple months, even if my ultimate goal is to put the guy away. All I need is his name though…

Should be easy, right?

Everyone else on my team are seated on the left and right of me and quietly flipping through stacks of papers, like it’s their job.

We all speak fluent English, Japanese, and Spanish —in fact, they’re all highly trained American intelligence, acting as if they speak very little English and absolutely no Spanish.

Members of Yakuza aren’t normally versed in other languages. I can’t help the ends of my lips curling into a smile at the irony here, but I close my eyes to focus.

Suddenly the door opens, and all of our heads turn to the five Mexican men walking in. Four of them are of average height, dressed in casual business wear with reflective construction vests over their clothes.

They’ve got papers in their hands and are greeting us like normal people. Then, I notice them make way for the one man sticking out, like a sore thumb.

He’s tall and lean, strong jaw with trimmed facial hair, tan complexion, wearing a black leather jacket over a white crew neck shirt, black jeans, and shades over his eyes.

Hate to admit it, but the guy is pretty attractive.

OK f**k, he’s really attractive.

He’s got to be the leader. He cockily walks his way over to the marble table but…

He.

Doesn’t.

Fucking.

Sit.

Instead, he ushers his men to take seats with a wave of his hand, and he walks backwards, until he hits the edge of a counter, in the back of the room. He leans against it, with the coffee machine behind him.

There are five empty seats, where he could very well sit!

The nerve of this guy!

This entire time his eyes are focused on his stupid phone, and I find myself glaring at him with his blatant disrespect to our team!

His guests!

Calm down Sammy, you’re not a real mob boss.

My men look to me, as it’s customary in Japan, for the boss to either initiate the discussion or have a designated representative do all of the talking.

I nod to one of my men, who was the one knocking on my door earlier, and he understands that it’s his que to initiate. But before he can speak, the rude guy interrupts him.

“Sorry had to wrap something up,” the rude guy says in a deep voice, sliding his phone into his pocket.

Cool, at least his English is perfect.

He looks to one of his older men seated at the opposite end of us, and nods to him, like I just did earlier, to one of my men.

This old man nervously coughs, preparing to speak. I can tell these men are innocent workers of the Port being coerced by this piece of s**t, in the corner of the room.

“Welcome friends from across the sea! Welcome to Manzanillo!” the old man says in broken English surprisingly, “I hope you are settling in good - we are almost done loading the containers onto the vessel. Only a couple days left!” he exclaims with a big smile under his thick mustache.

“Now to business, mmm…” he props up some reading glasses onto his nose to look at the fine print in front of him.

“It appears that uh, we have held off the signing of the FCO until we can verify that the buyer is indeed real,” he smiles to all of us in the room with a hand wave, “And obviously you are here, so you are real!” he adds.

I internally roll my eyes.

“Now, if we can just have Master Nomura review and sign our updated payment terms, we are all good to go!” the old man says timidly, while searching the room for some indication of who the leader in the room is.

I didn’t miss the subtle jab that the Mexicans are hoping for a male leader of the Yakuza, and thus, not looking at me. They must think, I am the secretary.

“Es la mujer (It’s the woman),” the rude guy suddenly says towards the old man. He keeps his eyes cast out the window, like he’s bored.

How did he know it’s me?

The poor old man instantly gets red in the face, as he laser focuses his attention to me now.

“Oh! Excuse me, I apologize Master Nomura, here is a copy of our modified agreement,” the old man hands a stack of papers to a representative on my team seated next to him and then looks at me, “—please review at your convenience, and we will prepare departure, after all signatures are gathered,” the old man says with a smile.

So far I haven’t said a word. Now I can see why this old man has been put into this position. He knows how to steer the discussion in their favor.

“What was wrong with the initial payment terms?” I ask.

Now it’s my time to play.

I turn my body so that I’m not facing the old man, but instead the rude guy in the corner.

“We had documented that we would pay after the SGS report is available,” I say.

“That’s not going to work for us. You pay half now as a security measure, and the second half, after the goods have been unloaded,” the rude guy says. I wait until the rude guy turns his head from the window to look straight at me through his shades with no emotion. Through our stare down, there’s a dead silence.

“And, you are?” I say with a bit of indifference in my tone to piss him off. But all it does is make his lips curl into an evil smile.

“I’m here to make sure…we get paid,” the guy says, steering my question away from his forced introduction.

I don’t want to feed his ego by giving him anymore attention though, so I redirect my line of sight towards the old man.

“Fine. We will review the new payments terms tonight and let you know tomorrow. Goodnight gentleman,” I say.

I nod to my men for the que to leave, and I stand up. As we make our way out the door with the new FCO in hand, I glance over to see that the prick is still leaning against the counter without a care in the world.

What is his problem?

I roll my eyes and focus on getting the f**k out of here.