My Yakuza

won’t try and kill me if I show up at the bar?”
“Would I be calling you now and warning you if I intended to kill you? Wise up man, and trust me. I’m trying to get both of us out of a jam here.”
“It doesn’t matter what time I get off. I’ll meet you at eleven at the Iron Hand. But I warn you, if this is a trick, you’ll be the one that ends up in a box, you get me?”
“If we’re not careful, we’ll both end up in boxes!”
“Eleven,” Kono said and hung up.
Shiro felt a slight bit of relief that he’d made contact and that he would be meeting Kono to figure out what they were going to do.
“Are you finished?”
“Oh, yes sir, thank you very much. Can I give you something for your trouble?” Shiro asked pulling out some money.
“No, I don’t need your money, just go, please.”
Shiro quickly left the apartment and flew down the stairs and back into his own apartment. There he sat down on the small sofa and tried to get his breathing under control. He’d crossed that invisible line that now made him a target with two Yakuza clans and placed the lives of four people in jeopardy.
Shiro decided to call Chizu and tell her he was going to watch and observe Kono later tonight and grabbed the cell phone. He looked up the call list on the phone, found only one entry for Aunt Sadie, and hit the dial button. The phone rang and rang with no answer. He waited a couple of minutes and tried again. This time the phone was answered.
“Yes?” said a male voice.
Startled, Shiro didn’t know what to do.
“Who is this?”
“Is Aunt Sadie there?” Shiro asked with this heart in his throat.
“No Aunt here,” the gruff voice said and the line went dead.
They had gotten to Chizu. Shiro panicked again and jumped up from the sofa and grabbed the gun placing it in the gym bag along with all of the photos and information on Kono. He knew that if the Yakuza had Chizu, it was very possible they could break her and find where he was living. Shiro had to change locations once more. Taking one final look around the apartment, Shiro headed down to the first floor and quickly hid behind the stairs when he saw four Asian men approach and enter into the front of the apartment building. He listened as they quarreled at not finding Shiro in the apartment. With a feeling of relief, Shiro left through a back door that led to a very smelly alley that members of the homeless community apparently used to sleep in at night.
Where to go? Shiro jumped into a cab. Fear had a firm grip on him as much as relief. He’d escaped them once more.
“Where to bud?” the cabbie asked.
“Can you tell me if there are any cheap hotels around Eighteenth Street near a bar called the Iron Hand?”
“You want me to run you over to Manhattan?”
“You mean I’m not in Manhattan?”
“Are you on drugs?”
“No…no. Somebody brought me here. I…is Manhattan a problem?”
“You’re in Queens, just outside of Manhattan and it’s not a problem if you got the money.”
“I have the money. Do you know of any hotels in that area?”
“Yeah, I think so. I’ll find you one once we get down there,” the taxi driver said as he made a quick right and headed in the direction of Manhattan.
Shiro put his head back and tried to fight a pounding headache that ached along with the throbbing pain emanating from his chest wounds. The sounds of honking horns only seemed to make the pain grow.
His cell phone rang, jolting his already frayed nerves. He checked the readout. The call was coming from Japan.
“Shiro?”
“Who’s this?”
“It’s Keizo. I’ve called your messenger company many times and they always send somebody else. I pulled some strings and got your cell phone number…can you…can you come see me?”
God! He wanted nothing more than another hot time in the sack with Keizo, but he was nowhere near Japan…and…wait. Shiro had just seen the four men go into his building…what if the Yaks knew of his tryst with Keizo? What if Keizo was being used?
“Are you still there?”
“I’m here,” Shiro said. “I’ll call you in a couple of days.”
He ended the call. He hated being rude, but he no longer knew who to trust. Finally, the cab pulled over to the kerb and he looked out at what appeared to be a rundown hotel that, once upon a time, must have been a very elegant place to stay.
“This do, buddy? That bar is only two blocks away, so you can’t get much closer if that’s your goal.”
“Yes, this will be fine.” Shiro peeled off a twenty and a ten. “Keep the change.”

Chapter Four
Shiro looked around quickly, and seeing no one, he entered the front door of the Baxter hotel. He found a front desk and approached a man reading a newspaper behind the counter.
“Excuse me, do you have any rooms?”
A pair of eyes peered over the top of the paper and looked Shiro up and down. “How many hours do you need it for?”
“Hours? I need it for a couple of days possibly.”
“Really?” he replied putting down the paper. “Look friend, you look like a nice guy so I’ll tell you. This is a place where the ladies bring their dates if you get what I mean. You sure you wanna spend a couple of days here?”
“Are the sheets and room clean? Is there a private bathroom?”
“Yeah, the sheets and rooms are kept clean or we’d be shut down by the health inspectors. As for the private bathroom, that’ll cost you extra.”
“How much for the clean room and private bath?”
“How’s seventy a night sound? I’ll even give you a room where the TV works. There’s no charge for towels, you can take those with you now. Just don’t take them from the hotel.”
“Okay, I’ll take it. I’ll pay for one