The Last Assassin

'Yes you do, partner. You need someone's.'

'You're wrong.'

'I see what you're doing. You got hurt 'cause you trusted. And now you're telling yourself, "See? I was right not to trust, this is what happens when you trust. Well, I'll just never trust again, that's what I'll do."'

'Are you coming up with this shit yourself, or have you been talking to Delilah?'

'She sees it, too. But that doesn't mean much. You're so damn obvious.'

'You know, the two of you understand each other so well, why don't you just take her. You've been spending enough time with her, from the sound of it.'

'Oh, this is the part where you make the outrageous accusations to insult your friend so he leaves and spares you the burden of having to admit that you're the asshole who pushed him away.'

I put my elbows on the table and rested my face in my hands.

'It ain't like that between Delilah and me,' he said, 'and you know it. But it is like that between the two of you. And if you walk away from that now, you are the biggest fool I've ever known.'

I looked at him. 'She sent you here to plead her case, is that it?'

'No, dumbass, you told me not to invite her, remember? She doesn't even know you're back in Tokyo, and she's worried about you, too. I'll call her and tell her, otherwise I'll be complicit in your childish nonsense. But if you were smart you'd call her first.'

I finished my whiskey and stood up. 'Do whatever you want,' I said, throwing some bills on the table. 'I just came back to pick up my money.'

55

I went back to Rio. It wasn't home, just where I was living for the moment. But I had nowhere else to go.

I stayed up late and got up late and took a lot of walks. I read some books of the embarrassingly self-help persuasion. None had quite the tide I was looking for – Killer's Ten-Step Conscience Cure, maybe, or Your Best Life After Betrayal, something like that – but I picked up a few insights along the way.

More than anything else, I threw myself into grueling jujitsu workouts. At first, I thought I was having control issues not so different from what drives people with eating disorders. Then I thought maybe it was some kind of age-denial thing, because if you can do two hours of nonstop matwork in an un-air-conditioned room during Rio's December summer, it must mean you're immortal.

But as the workouts grew more intense, resulting in a series of minor injuries, I realized what was really going on. I was trying to punish myself. Because, deep down, I knew everything Dox had said to me at Heartman was true.

Sometimes I think the urge to believe in our own worldview is our most powerful intellectual imperative, the mind's equivalent of feeding, fighting, and fornicating. People will eagerly twist facts into wholly unrecognizable shapes to fit them into existing suppositions. They'll ignore the obvious, select the irrelevant, and spin it all into a tapestry of self-deception, solely to justify an idea, no matter how impoverished or self-destructive.

And that's what I'd been doing. What had Dox called it? My 'it's me all alone against the world bullshit,' that was it. And to support that bullshit, I'd been deluding myself in a variety of areas.

For one thing, I'd been making too much of Midori's memory. Yes, we had chemistry. And the time we'd been pursued by Yamaoto in Tokyo had involved enough friction so that sparks were inevitable. But after our split, I wanted to believe that whatever had been between us was unique, that it could never happen again. Because if it was exceptional, it must be an exception, maybe even the exception that proved the rule. And the rule was that I would always be alone, and could never trust anyone.

But my partnership with Dox didn't fit comfortably with that rule. And my relationship with Delilah suggested that Midori hadn't just been a one-off, either. So now, some wretched part of me was intent on turning Dox and Delilah into exceptions, too, so it could pat itself on the back and proclaim, 'See? I told you so.'

What I was doing, I was sabotaging myself. Well, it was time I stopped.

One day, I called Delilah on her cell phone. When she answered, I asked her, 'How would it be if I came to see you?'

There was a long pause. She said, 'I don't know. How would it be?'

'I'm not sure. But I'd like to find out.'

There was another pause. She said, 'So would I.'

'Where are you? Paris?'

'No, I'm back in Barcelona.'

'Different cover?'

'No. I just need someplace new for a while.'

'How did things turn out at work?'

'The review is over. They told me they were going to give me a formal reprimand. I told them if they did they could kiss my ass and find someone else to do what I do. Now they're rethinking.'

'What are you going to do now?'

'I don't know. I could use someone to talk about it with, though.'

'I'd like that. I could use someone to talk with, too.'

'How soon can you be here?'

I paused, then said, 'I'll be on the next fucking flight, if you'll have me.'

She laughed and said, 'Well, what are you waiting for?'

I smiled. 'Let me go take care of the travel stuff. I'll call you back.'

There was a flight on Iberia, leaving at four o'clock that very day. I booked a seat and told Delilah I was coming. Then I called Dox.

'It's me,' I said. 'John.'

'Yeah? John who?'

I smiled. 'Nice try. Pretty soon you're going to be angling to get me to say my social security number over the phone. But you can only push me so far.'

He laughed. 'How you doing?'

'I'm all right. I've been doing some thinking.'

'Well, that sounds promising.'

'Yeah. I owe you an apology.'

'That's the truth.'

There was a pause. I said, 'Well, I apologize.'

'All right, I accept. Too bad you're not here, I'd give you one of those hugs you crave.'

'Yeah, I'm broken up about that, too.'

We were quiet for a moment. I said, 'You know, you called me a dumbass.'

'Well, you were acting like one. I didn't mean to imply that the condition was permanent. That's up to you. Sounds like maybe you've opted for something better.'

'Maybe "recovering dumbass."'

He laughed again. 'You talk to Delilah?'

'I'm going to see her later today.'

'Good. You let me know how that works out, all right?'

'I will.'

There was another pause. I said, 'Where are you, Bali?'

'Yeah, I'm building a house out here. You ought to come see it.'

'I'd like that. And if you need a break, why don't you come out to Barcelona?'

'That where you're going to see Delilah?'

'Yeah. You should come out. You know, the three of us never had a chance to celebrate after what we did in Tokyo. And you're rich now, you can afford the flight.'

He laughed. 'That's true. Tell you what, I'll come out today.'

'Uh, maybe you should wait just a few…'

He laughed again. 'I'm pulling your leg, man. You two have a lot to talk about and I don't want to be in the way. Plus I reckon you'll need some of the old conjugal time together. So I'll tell you what. You call me in a few days or a week, and if everyone's amenable it'll be my pleasure to come out and pop some of the bubbly.'

I found myself thinking of Tatsu. I said, 'You're a good friend to me, Dox. Thank you.'

'Don't mention it, man. I'll see you soon, here or there.'

I caught a cab to the airport. I watched through the window as the city's famed beaches went by, and was pleased to think that in just a little over half a day I would be walking along their Mediterranean counterpart.

I thought about my son. I wasn't going to have the relationship with him I'd been hoping for. I couldn't be part of his life. But forever? That's a long time. Maybe Dox was right. Blood matters, and not just in the way Midori had suggested. I couldn't be with my son today, but in five years? Ten? I didn't know. The uncertainty wasn't a happy prospect, true, but it was better than accepting that I would never see him at all. It was better than if he had never even existed. It was a hard path ahead, I thought, but on balance, I ought to be grateful for it.