Shot?

It was late afternoon when they finally returned to the city. As usual when his car pulled up in front of Sion, his men scrambled, almost falling over themselves to get the door for him.



He walked inside, ignoring the lush and elegant interior of the most luxurious night-club in Tokyo’s history. The bartenders were busy re-stocking the bar, filling the shelves with the more commonly wanted drinks, but there was nothing you couldn’t get at Sion. The extensive storage units beneath thick layers of concrete housed everything from the most expensive Scotch whiskeys like the Kinclaith*, Dalmore* and somewhere in the vast depths were even 5 of the rare bottles of Macallan* scotch. Some of the patrons were making a sport of it, looking up the rarest of alcohols to see if Sion would live up to its reputation. So far it had. It didn’t matter if they ordered a 1787 Château Lafitte* or a can of Orbitz. Sion always delivered.



Soft voiced greetings were directed at him, acknowledged with a nod of his head. He went straight for his office, sighing at the sight of files piled up on his desk again. He shrugged off his coat and carelessly threw it over one of the chairs. He needed to schedule another trip to London soon. Even though he mostly bought his clothes from international designers in Tokyo, there was nothing like the tailors on Savile Row. He loved their attention to detail, Kilgour, Anderson & Sheppard were true masters of their craft, knowing his wishes before he had a chance to say them aloud. Maybe he should take Akihito along the next time he went. He could picture the energetic figure of his lover scampering open-mouthed around in the heart of London, trying to take everything in at once, not stopping for a second to take a breath. It would be up to him to make sure that the boy would even take a break to eat and sleep. And sleep he would, of course only in the royal suite of The Lanesborough. With its massive four-poster bed. Sleep a lot.

Or not.



Akira couldn’t shake off a feeling of trepidation, when he saw the smile on his master’s face. He did that a lot lately. Smile. Not the evil smirk that could often be seen on his face; no, the genuine thing. And it always send a cold shiver down his spine.

He sat the tray with Asami’s lunch on top of the papers scattered on the desk, earning him a glare.



Asami wasn’t too happy to be once again pulled back to reality. He stared at the elegant dishes and surprisingly he really felt hungry. Well, he did have to keep up his strength. Soon, he would need to prove that his injuries had not diminished his stamina. When Akihito was home. From the hospital. Stupid brat.



He started to eat under Akira’s watchful eyes until the plates were empty. He really had been hungry. He lit a cigarette and leaned back into the comfortable chair while the tray was cleared away.



His phone rang. Naturally. It always rang.



*****



“Asami speaking.”



“Yamaguchi here, Asami-sama. I just wanted to let you know that Takaba-san had an untroubled night, except for… you know.”



“Good. When can I take him home?”



“Well, he still is feverish and unconscious, but the wound is closing without any sign of infection. The bruises need some more attention and his cold is really getting worse. If you’d insist on it you could take him home the day after tomorrow, although he would still need constant care. He needs to take his medications, the dressing on his wound needs to be changed, there is salve for his bruises and his ribs need to be freshly bandaged every day. “



“Thank you.”



He hung up.



He wanted his boy home. Now. He would care for him himself. It couldn’t be that hard. He would work from his home-office to be close by, in case Akihito needed him.



“Would you like to drive to the hospital?” Akira gave him a concerned look.



“No. He is doing good considering the circumstances.” Of course he wanted to go. He wanted to be near his boy, touching his silky skin, nibbling on the insides of his thighs, hearing his pleas for more, taking his breathy moans into his mouth and devour him. He felt the by now familiar tightening in his pants again.



Muttering an oath, he took up another folder and got to work.



The next few hours were spent with endless calls and barked orders that had everybody around him jump.



The tall-haired bodyguard wiped the sweat off his brow in relief when he finally got instructed to get the car. Akira hurried to the underground garage, glad to get a few minutes without being exposed to his certain doom in the person of his boss.



While walking to the elevator he decided to call his partner.



“Hey Keita. Akira here.”



“Anything happened?”



“No, I just thought to let you know your partner survived another day.”



“I’d gladly switch with you.” Keita suffered. He was Akira’s senior and taught him everything he knew.



“You know he won’t have anyone but the best with his Aki-chan.”



He smirked at the endearing term they used for the photographer. Even though he always put up a fight whenever he saw them, Takaba tried to make their lives easier by coming along whenever they were sent out to get him. The young man knew that they only followed Asami’s orders, so he usually saved his ire for the root of all evil. They came to appreciate his untamed personality, the exuberant excitement that filled him at sometimes the smallest, most insignificant things. He made them feel less jaded. And they liked him for it.



“One day he will hear it and we will be so dead.” Another sigh. Keita was not the most talkative person.



“How is he doing?” Quiet concern now in his voice.



“Still out of it. Calling for the boss all the time, feverish, bruised, congested. Could be better. He’ll be alright though.”



“I’m glad.”



“Yeah. Me too.”



“About Feilong…”



“I saw it.”



“So, care to tell me?” Akira couldn’t suppress his curiosity. Asami hadn’t said a word about ‘the present’.



Keita dropped his voice to a whisper and told him.



“Holy shit! And the boss just scheduled a work-out tomorrow. I’m dead. It was nice knowing you.”



“I wouldn’t look forward to that either. I mean, you should see it. Real nasty, if you ask me.”



“Well, gotta go. Thanks for telling me.”



“No prob, partner. Take care of the boss.”



He hung up. Of course Keita would have found out about Feilong’s surprise. There was no way that he would ever leave the boy’s side. And Feilong was now in Hong Kong. Shit. He felt bad for Asami, knowing that the boy would blame his boss for it. And this time it wasn’t his fault. Not really.



*****



Asami was already waiting in front of the club when he pulled up to the curb.



“Let’s stop at the warehouse.”



Akira wove the car competently into the crazy Tokyo traffic and drove in directions of the docks. He loved to operate this car, its powerful engine coming to life with a purr whenever he turned the key. He was such a sucker for technology’s best.



After thirty minutes he pulled the car to a stop in front of the warehouse where they kept Arbatov. Fleetingly he wondered, if the Russian was still alive. He ditched that thought right away. He would have known already if something had happened.



He opened the large door to let Asami walk ahead. A gist of wind caught the Yakuza’s coat, making it billow out like dark wings, announcing his ominous presence to everyone inside.



“So, is he willing to talk now?” Clipped, cold voice - bare of emotion.



“He hasn’t said anything so far. But then, we haven’t really asked.”



Arbatov looked even worse than the day before. His men had really worked him over. He stared down at the pathetic sight of the once so powerful Russian mobster. Grabbing his hair he pulled his head up to face him.



“Your time is running out, Arbatov.”



“They… will… kill… you…” Each word accompanied by a painful wheezing breath.



“Are you worried about me? How touching. But why don’t we both wait and see what will happen.”



“My father…”



“Your father…” Asami interrupted him, “… has other things to worry right now. But why don’t we spend some time concentrating on the question why you kidnapped my pet?”



“Feilong… I needed a collateral.”



“And…?” A sharp stab to his ribs to prod the reluctant Russian along.



“… boy for the deed… deed for Feilong.”



“I see**. You thought to get the Baishe to give over the princess? Just a foreigner could be that stupid. ”



Asami was not sure if he should feel disgusted or sorry for idiot in front of him.

Ring.



“Asami speaking.”



“Gospodin* Asami. “



“Arbatov-san. I expected your call.” Upon hearing this, a haughty smile formed on the blonde’s face.



“Then you are aware that your men intercepted one of my deliveries?”



“I am.”



“We had an agreement.” The voice of the older Russian was full of barely contained rage.



“We did. Until your son decided to kidnap my lover.” Blunt and straight to point. He really didn’t feel like playing games with the Russian mobsters any more.



“I… I wasn’t aware of that.”



“It appears so.”



“I apologize on behalf of my son. What do I need to do to make this problem disappear?”



“Well, gospodin, it won’t disappear. He took my lover as collateral against the Baishe.”



Silence.



“I… I wasn’t aware of this.”



Asami turned the loudspeakers on his cell on to make sure Arbatov could hear everything his father said.



“It does seem like you are not aware of too many things right now.”



“Words can’t express how appalled I am by my son’s behavior. I want him back so he can be punished for his unsanctioned actions.”



“I’m afraid that is not possible. Your son has managed to breach our agreement and piss Baishe off. Feilong wants his head.” Or ass. He still wasn’t sure about that one.



“Is there anything I can do to appease Baishe and you?”



Asami gave his prisoner a nasty look of ‘I told you so’ and turned the speakers off.

“Of course I can’t speak for Baishe, as for me…” he launched into a detail description of how he pictured future dealings with the Russians. After several minutes of listening to Arbatov sen. he nodded his head and said:



“The only thing I can make sure of is that Feilong won’t kill your son. But I still have to give him over.”



Another reply from the other end of the line.



“It is always a pleasure to do business with you.”



He hung up.



“As it seems you will enjoy my hospitality until the Ice-princess gets back from Hong Kong. Then you will get your heart’s desire and be escorted to him to do with whatever he wants.”



He turned around to his men.



“Make sure he survives until Sunday. But don’t make him too comfortable.”



He walked towards the warehouse-door.



“Enjoy your stay with us, Mikhail Arbatov.”



**********

*Kinclaith ($ 415 per 2 oz.) The Dalmore ($51.000 per bottle) The Macallan ($75.000 per bottle)

*Château Lafitte 1787 ($160.000)

*Orbitz was the product name of a noncarbonated fruit-flavored beverage, made by the company Clearly Canadian Beverage that had small edible balls floating in it. It was introduced around 1996 and quickly disappeared due to bad sales. The small balls floated due to their nearly equal density to the surrounding liquid, and remained suspended with assistance from an ingredient known as gellan gum. (from Wikipedia)  sounds really nasty.

** In all honesty, I don’t see anything. I just don’t know why Arbatov kidnapped Aki and I can’t come up with anything I like. So, we’ll just leave it at that.

*Gospodin= Russian: Mister