[Thomas Caine #1] Tokyo Black by Andrew Warren Read Free Book Online

He almost made it before a bullet to the back of the head dropped him cold.
    Sonny gaped at the senseless slaughter. He looked up as a shadow descended over his table. Bobu stood over him, gazing down. His scarred, warped features were like something from a nightmare.
    The guns unloaded two more shots, and the tattoo artist next to Sonny fell backwards, crashing into a cart filled with tattoo ink and supplies. The ink spattered across the floor, mixing with his blood to form a psychedelic splatter of color next to his dead body.
    The sudden burst of violence was over as quickly as it began. The buzzing of the tattoo needles was gone. Without their cricket-like hum, the shop felt quiet and empty, despite the loud music blasting from the speakers.
    Sonny threw his body up into a sitting position on the tattoo table. The shock of the attack had caught him off guard. Those precious seconds he had wasted gawking would mean the difference between life and death.
    His reached for the pearl-handled switchblade knife he stashed in the inner pocket of his jacket. It didn’t make much sense … four inches of slim, sharp steel against a barrage of gunfire. But it was all he had.
    His fingers just brushed the rough leather of the jacket when he felt a crushing pressure around his wrist. Bobu had swooped down, grabbing his outstretched arm with one of his thick, meaty hands.
    Bobu followed through with a strike, slamming his other hand into Sonny’s neck. The huge man pressed forward, carrying Sonny through the air and smashing him into the wall behind the tattoo table. Sonny’s vision blurred as his skull cracked against the wood. The impact knocked several sheets of tattoo flash art to the floor.
    Despite the sudden exertion, Bobu’s breath was calm and measured. He held Sonny against the wall, the bosozuku’s feet kicking and flailing several inches above the floor. His massive, hideous face hung inches in the air in front of Sonny’s. He sized up the squirming gangster with his milky eye and smiled.
    “You are bosozuku?” he asked. “You wish to be yakuza?”
    Sonny swallowed his panic, struggling to maintain his bravado in the face of this monster. Sonny had led gangs in turf wars and violent beatings. He had killed his enemies, watching their faces as they died. He squinted, knowing that fear showed first in the eyes.
    “Who the fuck are you?” He was grateful to hear his voice didn’t waver. “Do you know who you’re messing with?”
    Bobu barked a command, and one of his associates stepped forward, holding a cellphone in front of Sonny. On it was a digital photo of a girl. The expression on the girl’s face was strange. She looked haunted. Lost.  To Sonny, she looked like a fallen angel.
    Bobu twisted his lips into a reptilian smile.
    “I apologize for the inconvenience. We are looking for this girl. It is vital that we find her. You wish to be yakuza, yes? You wish to be part of a ninkyo dantai, a chivalrous organization?” Bobu spat the words, as though the phrase left a bitter taste on his tongue. “Then you must help us. You must help Japan.”
    “What the fuck are you talking about, man? I don’t know that bitch! Man, my boys are gonna mess you up!”
    Bobu kept smiling, but a wave of malice seemed to ripple across his features.
    “Your boys? You mean the two-bit punks outside, preening and grooming for the Lolita harlots that walk this street? Please, let me summon them for you.”
    Bobu nodded, and one of his henchman disappeared from view. He turned back to Sonny. “Nihon. Japan. Our island. Our home is dying, my friend, from the worst cancer of all. Weakness. And you are part of this weakness, this sickness that is strangling our home. Just as I once was…. Ah, your associate has arrived.”
    Bobu moved his massive head. His lackey had returned from his errand. In his left hand, he held a metal hacksaw. In his right hand, he held the severed head of Sonny’s second in command, one of the bosozuku