“Is it done, Baron?” asked a young Oriental woman as she was ushered over the threshold of Wintersgate in Georgetown.
“Your brother has been stopped,” said the man in white, leaning on his walking stick. “You can return to your home without fear.”
“The swords of Morimoto?” she asked.
“Your police have them as evidence of wrongdoing,” said Baron Winters. “They also have your brother and are holding him for trial.”
“Your agent was supposed to kill him,” said the young woman, gritting her teeth.
“My agent was supposed to stop him, which is what has been done,” said the Baron coldly. “Anything else is up to you. Have a nice flight home.”