Waiting for me outside of customs was a large bald-headed Japanese man dressed as a limo driver, holding a sign with my name. He reminded me of the big guy in the old James Bond movie, Goldfinger, whose name was Top Hat. He was the oriental man who threw the steel top hat like a Frisbee, killing people.
Then I remembered who this big guy was. He was the big Sumo that was at the Golden Dragon the night I shot and killed Masumoto, who was the best friend of Nakanishi. Midori had informed me this huge man’s name was Fujimoto. Fujimoto was the one who, more or less, stopped the violence that night.
Fujimoto bowed and greeted me, “Welcome to Japan, Jack-san. Follow me to the car.”
I returned the bow and said, “Arigato, Fujimoto-san.” He seemed surprised that I knew his name.
He took my bag and we walked out to the car, which was parked at the curb in a no parking zone. The big Sumo opened the back door of the big stretch Cadillac limo for me to get inside. Then he put my one small bag in the trunk. Since I was going to be living here for a year, I didn’t bring much with me.
I bent over to climb in and was surprised to see Kamata and Midori inside waiting for me. Midori had a big smile on her face as she grabbed my hand, and pulled me in the car to sit next to her. Midori was more beautiful than I remembered. Just the sight of her aroused my manly desires.
Midori, the adopted daughter of Kamata, was in love with me for some unknown reason. We had quite a romp my last week in South Korea, while she was visiting Keiko, the wife of Ambassador Ted Stevens. Midori is an exciting and beautiful woman, to say the least. Standing five-foot five-inches tall, she has a knockout body that makes men take notice. She looks like a teenager with her short blond hair, but is actually almost thirty years old. Don’t let her looks fool you, she is very muscular and skilled in many forms of martial arts. Her perfectly shaped face, full lips, and brown-green eyes draw your attention. You can’t help but ogle her.
She’s very interesting and more intelligent than I had thought. My nickname for her, Bimbo-san, didn’t fit her, but I liked it anyway. We came to know each other very well in the short span of a week. My feelings grew to the point where I had a real affection for her. We were developing a close relationship, which could influence my position as Director of Security for Kamata. I could be falling in love, but I don’t know what that means anymore. Once I thought I knew, but now I am not so sure.
As I slid in next to Midori, Kamata said, “Konnichiwa (Hello). It is good to see you, Jack-san.” He bowed slightly and so did I.
Kamata and Midori both spoke perfect English since they attended college in the United States. It was much better than my poor Japanese, which I taught myself using books and tapes over the years.
“Konnichiwa, Kamata-san. It’s nice to see you also. Thank you for coming to pick me up. I look forward to starting work.”
Kamata looked the same as the last time I saw him about a month ago. His pure white full head of hair and short goatee laced with black and gray made him look distinguished. He had on an expensive looking black suit, which I am sure it was considering he’s a multi-millionaire. Kamata was in great shape for his age. I estimated him to be around 63 years old. He spoke with a deep commanding voice that let you know he was in charge. He was the big boss of the Inagawa Yakuza crime organization. He was also the principal owner of Kamata Enterprises. His company was into everything, generally the same types of business as the Yakuza.