Manhattan

Nakanishi was lucky. Young and in excellent health, although his condition was still listed as critical, he should recover, according to the doctor who briefed Brian, Mike and Jaime outside of Nakanishi's room.

"He won't be eating teriyaki for a while, though. You can try to question him, but make it brief. Five minutes, max. You probably won't get much out of him anyway. He's pretty doped up."

The three men quietly entered the dimly-lit room. Hideo lay on the bed with his eyes closed, breathing shallowly. Tubes ran out of his nose, his arm and his side and various machines were monitoring his vital signs. His face was shrunken and his skin waxy, making it look as though his skull was showing through.