Fumio had not been sure whether Sakura would be alone, and Milton went inside one slow step at a time. It was dark, with all the lights off and the curtains drawn. He assumed that the layout was the same as the apartment in which Yamato was being held, and proceeded along the corridor to the bedrooms. He heard the creak of a floorboard to his left and saw a flash of motion just in time to avoid the standard lamp that was swung—very awkwardly—at his body. The momentum of the lamp drew Sakura out of the doorway in which she had been hiding. Milton lowered the shotgun and put up a hand.

“It’s me,” he said.

“John?”

She stumbled at him, wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight. He put one arm around her, but kept his attention on the apartment. Then, after a moment, he gently disengaged her.

“I thought you were dead.”

“Not yet,” he said.

“How did you—”

“Later. I’ll tell you later. We need to move quickly. Is there anyone else in here?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure.” She reached for him again. “You came to get me.”

“One of Takashi’s men came to see your father. He told us what Takashi was planning for you.”

She stiffened against him. “Kyoto. He said I was going tomorrow.”

He gently removed her arms from around his neck for the second time. “Not anymore.”

“We need to get Yamato.”

“We’re doing that now. Stay behind me.”

Milton turned around and led the way out of the apartment and back into the lobby. He tried the door handle to the adjacent apartment; it was open. He stepped inside. The lights were on and, as he turned into the living space, he saw the elderly woman that he remembered from before. She had just come out of one of the rooms to the side, and now she looked down at the shotgun, then up at Milton. She looked terrified, just as she should.

“English?” Milton asked her.

She swallowed and didn’t respond.

Sakura stepped around Milton and spoke to the woman in Japanese. Milton heard Yamato’s name and saw her gesture down at the shotgun; to underline, presumably, why truthfulness would be the best policy. The woman nodded her understanding and indicated that Milton and Sakura should follow her. Milton was aware that there was a chance she might be trying to trick them, and that Takashi might have stashed a guard in the apartment, but, as they passed through the corridor to the bedroom, it appeared that his suspicion was unwarranted. He looked into each of the rooms as they passed and saw nothing.