The walls looked old, solid, not the sort of protection a modern building deserved. Reno pushed through one of the huge doors, past two men waiting silently, with shiny dark gray suits and unsmiling faces. “Where’s the oyabun?” he asked in Japanese. The reply was a little too fast, with a heavy accent that she couldn’t quite get, but apparently Reno understood, and he took her arm, pulling her toward the huge, anonymous building.
She tried to yank her arm free, but his grip tightened, hard enough to leave bruises. “Don’t fight me, Jilly,” he said in a barely audible voice. “This isn’t like anyplace you’re used to. Until my grandfather takes responsibility, you’d better stay as close to me as possible.”
“You don’t have to hold my hand,” she snapped, equally quiet.
“Yes, I do. Get over it.”
There were eyes watching her, both seen and unseen. Male eyes, blank and unreadable, as they passed group after group of well-dressed men with carefully arranged black hair. The yakuza army, and not a punkster among them, she thought. No wonder Reno went to such extremes.
He stopped before a pair of black-lacquered inner doors at the end of one long hallway, and Jilly had just time enough to notice the beauty and antiquity of them, clearly taken from some much older and more historic building, when they swung open, and a massive man stood waiting, blocking the entrance with his arms crossed.
“That’s your grandfather?” she whispered, astonished. She could see how such a huge creature could inspire panic, though Reno didn’t appear to be cowering.
“Kobayashi-san,” he said, lowering his head slightly in greeting. Okay, not Grandpa, then. Whoever it was, he didn’t look too happy to see them.
But Kobayashi’s own bow was lower, signifying respect. “Your grandfather is tired, young master. He wasn’t expecting you. Or the gaijin,” he added, with a pointed look in her direction. His Japanese was slow and sonorous, and she got every word of it.
“My grandfather will welcome me,” Reno replied with the same stilted courtesy, and the huge man moved out of the way, revealing the room behind him.
If Jilly had been in a more frivolous mood, she would have giggled. It looked like a throne room—a long approach, with a stately ruler seated at the far end, waiting for their humble approach. Except that nothing was amusing her at this point.
Reno kept her hand in his as they moved closer, and for the first time she got a good look at the notorious oyabun, the head of the family.
He was tiny. Old and frail, with wisps of white hair on a bald, freckled skull. Thin lips, eyes almost hidden beneath the crepey wrinkles. His suit was white, silk, exquisite. And his voice, when he spoke, was surprisingly strong.
“What have you brought me, Grandson? Back from the dead, is she?”
Reno bowed, so low his thick braid of hair brushed the ground, and he yanked her down with him. “We need your help, Ojiisan.”
“I could have told you that,” the old man said. “What took you so long to come to that conclusion?” He spoke English, slow, deliberate, and Reno switched to that language, as well.
“She should be safe at this point. The second group of Russians met with an accident, and it seems unlikely that anyone else will come after her. But just to be certain I thought she would be safest under your protection while I made a few inquiries.”
“My people can make the inquiries. Don’t tell me you think your sources are more informed than mine.”
Reno had risen by now, and he met his grandfather’s sharp gaze with an innocent expression that fooled no one. “The Committee can get information….”
“The Committee is a group of overgrown children playing games,” the old man said. “I know what’s going on in my own country.”
“Did you know that you have a traitor in your midst?”
The room was empty—even the huge Kobayashi had disappeared, and at Reno’s simple words the old man froze. “I should have you killed for saying that,” he said, and Jilly held her breath.
And then Reno laughed. “Ojiisan, you’re terrifying the gaijin. She doesn’t know that you couldn’t even spank me when I was growing up.”
“It would have been better if I had,” the old man said. He turned his impenetrable gaze on Jilly, and she felt herself caught by those dark eyes. “Has my grandson taken good care of you? Has he been polite? I may not beat him, but his cousin, Takashi, will have no hesitation.”
“He saved my life,” she said. “Twice. I can’t say much for his manners, though.”
The oyabun gave a short bark of laughter. “I suppose that’s more important. Would you excuse us while we talk? Kobayashi will take care of you.
Has my grandson fed you?”
“Not recently,” Reno said. “She’s been complaining all morning. She wants a shower and a chance to change her clothes.”
“We can see to that,” the man said before Jilly could protest. A moment later Kobayashi appeared, surprisingly graceful and silent for such a large man. “Take Lovitz-san to the red room and bring her anything she needs. And make certain no one interrupts my talk with my nephew.” He had switched back to Japanese, presumably for Kobayashi’s sake.
The big man bowed low, and Jilly had no choice but to follow him. Their discussion had nothing to do with her, and Reno had already dismissed her from his mind. He was dumping her here, and she was just as glad to get rid of him. She hadn’t been able to look him in the eye after the dark, tumbled moments of the night before, and now she wouldn’t have to. She was safe inside this fortress—no one would dare contravene that scary little old man. If he truly had a traitor in his midst, then Jilly could only feel sorry for him. Ojiisan was no match for a dozen bad guys, and he had Reno to back him up.