Epilogue
Evacuation
Nyomi
We moved fast through the mansion. Phones buzzed, telling me that Reo had delivered the message.
Once we got back on the elevator, Yoichi pulled out his device, checked the screen, and then, without a word, he handed it to me.
I took it.
The text was from Reo.
Yoichi give this to the Heart.
Kiko killed Dr. Goda, took his phone, and made a call to the Fox.
The doctor's phone was on the satellite network’s emergency medical line, not our protected channel which probably gave the Fox's hackers enough time to triangulate the island.
We’re certain that they have our coordinates.
The battle is tonight.
Please, stay with Yoichi and do what he says.
I love you, Nyomi.
Reo.
I read it twice.
Then I read it a third time.
That bitch.
Rage surged in my chest.
Goddamn it! And I told Kenji not to kill her!
The elevator hummed around us.
I handed Yoichi back his phone without looking up.
What the fuck?!
Her actions caused Reo to reroute every life on this island into a different ending.
I'd had so many chances to end her. I’d held Kenji back twice. I could have even had the Claws kill her last night when she tried to crash the party.
But I’d thought of her twins and treated her belly like a force field. I had let her live because I thought a woman like me did not order pregnant women killed. I had mistakenly thought that line was something worth keeping, and I had told myself keeping it was strength.
But it wasn’t strength. Not in this world. It was a fucking huge mistake and now possibly the island’s death sentence.
I was still learning.
I had been moving through Kenji’s world like rules of decency still applied. I believed that there were lines a person didn't cross and motherhood was sacred even when the mother was a snake.
But, the rules didn't apply here.
I fisted my hands at my side.
This world wasn't the world I had grown up in. It wasn't the newsroom or the streets of Brooklyn or any place where the law eventually showed up and the bad people eventually faced something.
This world ran on blood, consequence, and who moved first.
Kiko had understood that from the day she walked onto this island. She had been measuring me the whole time and she had read me correctly—that American bitch won't pull the trigger on a pregnant woman.
She had been right.
Kill or be killed.
I rolled my shoulders back and let the rage settle into something colder—vengeance.
Never again.
That was the vow to myself.
Never again would I hesitate over a snake because it had a belly full of eggs. Never again would I tell the men around me to wait before killing someone just because they were a woman. Never again would I trade other people's lives for my own comfort with the word kill.
If I ever saw Kiko's ass again, I would do what I kept telling Kenji not to.
And the next enemy after her.
And the next one.
And the next.
I wasn’t a killer, but I could become one to protect all the people I loved.
I turned to Yoichi.
He’d been watching me.
“Where is Kiko now?”
The line of his jaw twitched. “I’m not sure.”
“Please, find her for me.”
“We’re supposed to leave this island.”
“Reo didn’t text you that.”
“Kenji told you on the phone.”
“And you heard?”
“Yes.”
“You have good ears.”
“You have a good phone.” Yoichi’s eyes narrowed for less than a second. The shift was tiny. And for the briefest instant, I saw concern move beneath his composure before discipline buried it again.
Then he was simply Yoichi once more—calm posture, steady breathing, body angled protectively between me and the elevator doors.
But now I could see the machinery underneath him.
The omissions.
The carefully measured answers.
The way he gave away only what he intended people to have.
A strange chill crept over me. “You’re hiding something.”
“Probably.” The line of his jaw twitched again. “But do you think I’m too dangerous for you?”
“No. I think you are loyal and will protect me, but I do think you’re hiding something.”
“We all have secrets.”
The elevator stopped and the doors opened.
“Let’s go.” Yoichi led the way. His phone buzzed. He pulled it out and read the screen.
We all have secrets. . .what secrets do you have, Yoichi?
I followed.
The mansion had turned intense. Reo must have delivered the evacuation message to the island by now. Radios crackled nonstop with overlapping voices, locations, and orders. Two large men rolled heavy crates stamped with Dragon symbols down the hallway.
On my left, a young guard—barely twenty-five years old—vomited into a trash can before wiping his mouth and grabbing his rifle again.
Fuck.
Servants rushed through the hallways carrying armfuls of folded clothes, medical kits, and boxes of food.
The air itself felt charged now, electrified by fear and preparation.
A silver tray crashed by the stairs. The woman who had been holding it, bowed, and apologized.
Boots thundered across marble floors overhead.
My men had their guns out now. A few jumped in front while the rest remained behind me.
Even sadder, every person moving through the mansion carried the same expression—the terrible understanding that by sunrise many of them might be dead.
I got to Yoichi’s side. “I should have a gun.”
“So you can shoot Kiko in the head?”
“No. I’m going to choke that bitch until she stops breathing and those twins pop out her dirty vagina.” I shook my head. “I want the gun to shoot people just in case Kenji’s father gets here before I can leave.”
A wicked smile spread across his face. “I heard the Tiger has claws, but now I can finally see them.”
“Yep. I have sharp ones.” I slashed the air with my fingers. “Do you have an extra gun?”
“Let’s get you to your destination first and then we’ll give you a gun from one of the guards.”
“Sounds good.”
“Do you know how to shoot a gun?”
“No.”
He laughed. “Well, perhaps a lesson is in order.”
“Perhaps.”
“Hopefully, the Dragon doesn’t get pissed about these lessons.”
“He’ll be fine.”
At the end of the hall, a terrified maid clutched a tiny dog against her chest while being escorted toward the evacuation route.
Men in black tactical gear moved furniture aside to barricade the side entrances.
Fucking Kiko.
We got outside and the noise hit me before the sight did.
Helicopter blades chopped the air somewhere to the north.
A boat horn blared low and long across the water.
Men barked orders in Japanese over each other.
A woman screamed a name I couldn't catch.
A radio somewhere blasted a voice in fast clipped sentences.
Boots pounded.
Dozens of boots.
Crates slammed into truck beds.
A child cried somewhere I couldn't see.
The island had its own heartbeat now and the heartbeat was panic.
I took in all the chaos around me.
The sun had died while the moon arrived.
The path was clogged with people. Men in dark jackets were distributing rifles from the back of an open truck, handing them to other men who had clearly never held a rifle in their lives. A teenager took one of the weapons with both hands and almost dropped it from the weight.
Others sprinted in every direction. A man ran past us with a rifle slung across his back and a child in his arms. A woman ran the other way with what looked like a photo album pressed to her chest.
Two staff members were dragging a heavy trunk between them.
The island typically smelled like—salt off the water, jasmine along the path, smoke from grills, and the faint sweetness of plumeria.
Those scents were gone now and replaced with fuel, gun oil, sweat, and fear.
I spotted four empty helicopters far off on the other side of the island. Tons of people gathered around them, wagging their hands and yelling.
Several smaller boats were heading toward us, but it would take them some time.
I looked at Yoichi. “Why aren’t they putting people on the helicopters yet and getting them outside?”
“The Tiger goes first and then everyone else—”
“Hell no. Call whoever is up there and tell them to load all four helicopters and take them off. I can wait for the second trip—”
“There may not be a second trip. They’re taking everyone who can fit on the helicopters to safehouses in Tokyo. That could take forty minutes to an hour.”
“No.”
That long per round trip and only four helicopters. That meant barely sixty people per trip if we crammed everyone in.
The math was not survivable.
I shook my head. “Have the helicopters go to Kenji’s private island and drop people off and then come back. Do they know where it is?”
“They would.”
“Could you contact the helicopters?”
“Of course. I have the contact for Kenji’s personal one.”
“Then, have them sent to the island. That would take them five to ten minutes. The helicopters could make several trips and get a lot of people out of here, if we do that.”
Yoichi pressed on the phone. “You’re overriding Reo’s evacuation plan. Are you okay with that?”
I swallowed. “Should I. . .call Reo and ask?”
“And fuck up his already fucked up focus? No.” Yoichi tabbed his phone and placed it against his ear. “Your plan is solid. Reo is juggling fifty things right now and our Roar is efficient and a genius, but he is still a man.”
I let out a long breath.
Poor Reo. You would have caught that if not for your mind being so packed.
Yoichi switched to Japanese as he delivered the orders to the pilot.
Seconds later, he hung up the phone and then pointed to the left. “Your cart is over there. I don’t see the driver, but we don’t need him. Let’s go.”
“Okay.”
A boom went off in the distance.
A woman near the front door screamed and dropped to her knees with her arms over her head.
Oh no! Are they here?!
Another boom came.
The ground shook under my feet.
I lost my balance.
Yoichi grabbed my arm. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” I straightened and got back in step. “What the hell was that?”
"They're testing the antiaircraft guns on the outer ridge."
I watched the woman cry on the ground and headed to her.