Victoria slapped him on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you. You’re looking relaxed.”

Milton knew that she was being kind; he looked anything but relaxed. It had been a long two days of travel and he hadn’t changed clothes since his layover in Istanbul. He needed a shower and, at the very least, a clean set of underwear.

“I don’t feel it,” Milton replied, watching her easy grin playing over her face.

“Maybe a little frazzled around the edges. Where’s your stuff?”

“I left my bag at the hotel.”

“Come on through,” she replied, turning and taking a few steps toward the restaurant entrance. “I’ll show you where you’re staying. You can grab a shower, and I’ll head home and grab you some clothes from my other half.” Milton followed, grateful that Victoria had seen his need without him having to say anything. “Then we’ll have a drink and you can tell me all about this mysterious woman you’ve met.”

26

Sakura groaned as another painful cramp rolled across her abdomen. The nurse—who was anything but caring—gave her a dour and unsympathetic stare.

“You got more?” the Filipina asked, gesturing to the door to the bathroom.

Sakura had no interest in spending any more time in that foul little room. More than that, she just wanted the nurse to leave her in peace. What had happened over the last hour had been embarrassing—demeaning, even—and, although Sakura had known from experience what she would have to do to retrieve the drugs, she had hoped to do it in private and without needing the help of a very large dose of laxatives.

“More?” the nurse asked again.

“No.”

She held her hand to her stomach. She was telling the truth. She had counted the small packages in, and then she had counted them out. They were on the floor in the bathroom: twenty-five small condoms with knotted ends, freshly washed and full of pure heroin. One of them had split, and some of the contents had leaked out. That had been the cause of her illness.

“You sure?”

“I’m done. You can go now if you want.”

“I stay for doctor,” the nurse replied. “Make sure you okay.”

“Maybe I could get some fresh air?”

The nurse walked to the hotel room window and cranked it open. The air that drifted in was warm and humid. “There,” she said. “Fresh air.”

Sakura moaned as another wave of cramp hit her. She just wanted the woman to leave so that she could go and find Katsuro. He and his father would not accept the loss of the consignment, and she had to deliver the packets as she had promised.

“I need fresh air,” she protested. “Outside.”

The nurse started to pack her supplies away, and then she sat down on the chair, folded her arms across her ample chest, and glared at Sakura.

“Wait for doctor.”

27