Page 39 of Apollo

“The Himonya family is also yakuza,” Irowen filled in. “They’re part of the large, feared, and respected Inagawa-kai organization. Except they’ve begun leading a notable charge against the yamibaito, a shady sector that many are calling the new face of organized crime in Japan. The assholes recruit younger members right out in the open, via social media, and their tactics are a dangerous mix of the Johns.” She added, in response to his perplexed frown, “Wick, McClane, and Wayne.”

Quil emitted a glottle chuckle. And they say the summers are the craziest thing about the country.

“The yamibaito strike without order or style or reason, uncaring if they take out civilians as collateral damage on their hits,” she went on. “There’s no connectible logic or honor to any of it. The business is wild and random and—”

As classy as a T-shirt at the opera. Along with the derisive line, Quil blinked his black marble eyes with hard, open disgust.

“That’s one way of saying it,” she remarked. “Though of course, the Himonya and their peers have come up with others.”

After rearing back by several inches, Quil rotated his head and eyeballed Apollo. Did you already know about those creepy kadoodles? And not tell Kaw or myself about them?

Apollo grunted. “This is super recent stuff, buddy. Only within the last fifteen or so years. Besides, I only help humans compose their laws, not enforce or break them.”

“There’s a god who does that?”

“You mean the one who lives a few clicks down the road in this lovely neighborhood?”

“Can we focus up about finding my sister in any neighborhood?” Irowen cut in, seemingly just as jolted as Quil about the reminder of this vicinity. As if they hadn’t just helped to hand over Rizon for several centuries’ worth of hard labor in Hell’s salt mines. “Though we do agree to zero in on some sectors of Ōta, right?” She scooted a sharp look between the two of them. “Ideas? Anyone?”

With the same pointed intent, Apollo cleared his throat. “You sound damn sure about the girl’s twenty, Mr. Quil. So, did the recon team actually get eyes on her? If so, then where?”

Quil started to nod already. There was visual confirmation. Wasn’t long, mind you, but enough that the guys reasonably logicked the details back to Genny Steed.

“How?” Irowen challenged. “I mean, she wasn’t just wearing a T-shirt that read Hi. I’m Eugenia Steed; follow me on your favey socials, no?”

Of course not. Quil swerved on his perch, the corvid version of crossed arms and a side-eye. But her T-shirt did say ‘Everyone deserves the chance to fly’ and she gave out Pocky sticks to a clump of teenagers who noticed it.

“Oh,” she blurted. “Okay, well, shit. That does sound like her.”

Oh, that was before they all started singing together, and she danced into their tour guide hard enough to spill his tray of iced coffees.

Irowen paled and smirked in the same instant. “Oh my God, you did find her. Way to bury the lede, bird.” She wheeled around as if ready to spike Apollo and his whole side of the room with the new fire in her bright greens. “So now we know we’re bound for Haneda, right? Sooner than later? Let’s go. Which way to your special portal, Glow Worm?”

“Err . . . ” Quil’s stutter was just as telling as his side-eye shuffle, except this new tic dripped of hesitation instead of attitude.

“What?” Once again, she darted her focus between the two of them. “Err, we don’t have a portal after all, or err, there’s another kicker we’ve got to un-snafu now?”

Quil corrected his posture. Door number two. Ding-ding-ding. Winner, winner, sardine dinner. Luckily, he didn’t push the quip beyond that. He read the room, aka Irowen, fast enough to read her fresh scrutiny. In all honesty, Cutie, I’m not sure your sister is still at Haneda. He cringed, clearly anticipating her tighter scowl, as well. When my scouts spotted her, it was because she’d been ushered outside the terminal—straight into a car at the outer curb.

Thousands of years of an existence, and there were some moments Apollo found hard to witness in humans. Irowen’s new moment of agitation, wrapped in an obvious shawl of worry, had his fast blessing for the list.

“All right,” she countered. “How long ago was that?”

Five or ten minutes before the team could get to a secure location and message Kaw and me, though we couldn’t give the transmission full attention until we’d dropped Rizon with Hades.

“And then you returned here,” she stated, clearly fighting to stay composed about the whole exchange. “So, how much time do you estimate has gone by in total? Fifteen minutes?”

“That’s all twenty at the least.” Apollo backed the interjection with a steady jog of his jaw. “Maybe more, if Genny’s chaperones got right on the kōsokudorō and traffic was light.”

Quil canted his head, another stand-in for a side-eye. You’re slurping the soup too fast again, right? Because when is Tokyo traffic a light thing, especially out of that airport?

“Okay, okay.” Irowen involuntarily summoned her adorable mother hen, flapping an irritable hand in the air. “Let’s call it at twenty minutes.” Just as fast, she activated her she-hawk side instead. “So how far could they have gone in that time? Mobilize the team to search for any pertinent clue in that perimeter first, then move outward in small but concentric circles.” She swung her stare solely at Apollo, almost looking ready to ask for his sign-off on the plan. “At the very least, we’ll find something she might’ve dropped or left behind,” she explained. “But the tighter we go, the more intensely we can take note of the buildings and everyone in them.”

We?

Quil rejoined it with enough emphasis not to need any secondary stamp, but Apollo provided it with his joint exclamation anyway. Irowen answered them in seconds, her glare alive with elements of Marge Simpson and Hera herself.

“You heard me correctly, gentlemen.” A small adjustment of her head, and the full force of her gorgeous gaze almost knocked Apollo onto to his ass. Little Gamera and her gorgeous girl balls . . . “Call whomever you need to and fire up that portal. I’m not hiding anymore, and the sooner Nao Ito and his men know that, the better.”