Page 12 of Dragon 7
“Even terrifying beasts have soft places to harm—”
“Maybe for dragons, but not for lions—”
"The seat is out of the question, but I can put you in the rooms. I'll give you an introduction to every dangerous bloodline in Asia. The Triads in Hong Kong. The Sun Yee On. The Yamaguchi-gumi cousins I haven't burned yet. Bamboo Union. The South Koreans who don't trust anyone. I'll be in the room when you make the deals. That's better than a seat, Kazimir. That's a path to ten of them."
The temperature on the line changed.
Next, the Lion growled. "You come to me cocky?"
“It’s a compromise.”
"I said a seat. Not a fucking hello. The Lion knows how to exchange pleasantries with strangers. I don’t need you in the room.”
I let the silence hang on my end of the line. Then, I said, cold and clean, "Then the deal is is off the table."
I ended the call.
The phone went black against my palm.
Reo watched me. “He’s pissed?”
“His mane is ruffled.”
“You hung up on him?”
“Kazimir doesn’t respect civility. He craves chaos.”
The war room balcony opened and Hiro headed back in with a lollipop in his mouth. He’d left the space looking frazzled. He’d returned with a smile on his face that told me he was more than ready for war.
Reo walked around the table and stepped closer to me. "Kenji—"
I held up my hand. "He'll call back."
He has to.
I set the phone on the briefing table. Face up. So I would see the screen the moment it lit.
Then, I waited.
Outside the war room, boots stomped in the corridor. A radio crackled in fast Japanese—outer ridge, three contacts on radar, southwest approach, weapons hot. A door slammed somewhere down the hall.
Nyomi’s face came to my mind.
Tora.
I shoved the thought down.
The arms on the clock moved.
Twelve seconds.
Fifteen.
Twenty.
Pick up the phone, Kazimir. Pick up the goddamn phone.
I had just hung up on the only man who could save my island in the next hour. If the Lion's pride was bigger than his ambition tonight, the war might lean back in Akiro and my father’s favor.
