Peter pulled the Saab into the underground parking garage at Heathrow, sliding it into the narrow space reserved for Spence-Pierce Financial Consultants, Ltd. He glanced over at his wife, Genevieve, who looked flushed, slightly rumpled and very happy. She smiled at him, and he found himself smiling back, against his will. It was good to see her happy again, at least for the time being. Maybe if he could keep her in bed twenty-four/seven she wouldn’t cry. Maybe if he could keep her in bed twenty-four/seven they’d be able to make a baby, and she wouldn’t greet each new month with silent tears. Trust him to fall in love with a woman with a wicked biological clock.
At least for now she was in a good mood, and he, simple creature that he was, was so well fucked that nothing could depress him. Not even the thought of training one of Takashi O’Brien’s nerdy cousins.
Peter wouldn’t have thought Taka could be related to nerds, given his Yakuza background and his admittedly dramatic presence. But Peter had read the dossier on Hiromasa Shinoda until his eyes began to glaze over. First in his class at Kansei University, experienced in software design and engineering, someone whose record was completely spotless. It didn’t augur well for the life of a Committee operative.
But he trusted Taka as much as he trusted anyone, and if Taka thought one of his cousins would make a good recruit, then Peter would give him the benefit of the doubt. At least it wasn’t his maniac punk cousin, Reno.
Genevieve threaded her hand through his as they headed for international arrivals. He could have arranged for a private meeting, but there was no reason to go to so much trouble. There was nothing to point suspicion at young Hiromasa Shinoda, just another studious Japanese salaryman arriving in London for a little international polish. Except that it would be in the world of death and danger, not banking and commerce.
“What are we supposed to do with Taka’s cousin?” Genny said. “We don’t have to bring him home with us, do we?”
“I have an apartment already set up at the office in Kensington. Taka says he’s quite the student—I’ll give him enough research to keep him out of our hair for at least two weeks.”
She reached up and kissed the edge of Peter’s jaw. “That would be very nice. Once I’m…once things are a little more settled, I wouldn’t mind having him come out to stay for a bit. Just not right now.”
“Not right now,” Peter agreed, some of his sunny mood vanishing. By a little more settled she meant once she was pregnant. And while he would kill for her, change the world for her, no matter what he did he couldn’t in fact guarantee she’d get pregnant. Though he certainly was putting a great amount of effort into the task.
The international arrivals lounge was jammed, the flights from the Far East arriving in droves. Hiromasa was apparently tall, like Taka—that was one way to identify him. Taka had said they’d know him when they saw him, but Peter stared at all the various Asian men and drew a total blank.
“What’s he supposed to do, wear a rose in his teeth?” Genevieve whispered to him.
“I think I see him,” Peter replied, zeroing in on a tall, slender man in an immaculate dark suit, looking around as if expecting someone. Isobel would approve; members of the Committee tended to be extremely well dressed. They didn’t usually bother with the rank and file, but were more likely to interact with the movers and shakers of the dark world they lived in. The young man would fit in perfectly.
Peter headed for him, still holding Genny’s hand. “Hiromasa Shinoda?” he said.
The young man blinked. “Sorry, my name is Weng Shui Lau.”
Peter felt Genevieve’s elbow in his ribs. “That’s not him.”
“I beg your pardon,” he said politely, before turning to look at her. “I figured out that much, but why…” His voice trailed off. Someone was standing directly behind Genevieve, taller than her impressive height, and Peter’s good mood vanished entirely.
“Oh, shit,” he muttered.
Hiromasa Shinoda smirked, tossing his long red hair back from his tattooed face. “I’m glad to see you, too.”
“Reno.”
“In the flesh. That man wasn’t even Japanese, he was Chinese. Believe me, we don’t all look alike.”
Peter ignored the jibe. “Taka sent you?”
A faintly disgruntled expression crossed Reno’s face, and he dropped his sunglasses down onto his elegant nose, hiding the brilliant, fake green eyes and tattooed blood drops on his high cheekbones. “I was informed it would be a wise idea for me to leave Japan for a time, and Taka thought I should do some good for a change.” He glanced around him with casual disdain.
“It would be a novelty,” Peter said.
Genevieve smacked him in the arm. “Stop it, Peter. He helped save your life in Japan last yea
r, and you know it. He just likes to pretend he’s scary.”
Reno growled, offended. “I am not interested in your idiot organization or your delusions of sainthood. I promised Taka I would come, and I will stay here and do what you want until it’s safe for me to go home.”
“And how long will that be?”
“It depends on how angry the police are, how unforgiving my grandfather is and how interested Taka is in letting me come home.”
“What terrible thing did you do?” Genny asked, sounding fascinated.
“None of your business.”