The Sparrow

"Mr. Sparrow, sir." Eddie knocked thrice on the office door.
"It's open!" Came his master's voice. He winced as he opened the door. His old boss had two guards on his chamber door, which had five locks. The room inside had no less than six guns, one of which was never more than a foot from the man' hand.
As Ed Kuro opened the unlocked door into his master's office, he knew fully that the only guns in the room were the ones he was carrying and the revolver in the pocket of a jacket hung on a peg on the wall.
"Sir, it's like you're asking to be killed."
His boss stopped plucking at his ukulele, "I've got plenty of security, Eddie. I've got you."
"Sir, I appreciate your faith in me, but-"
"Now how many times, Eddie?" The Sparrow took his feet off his desk and put down his ukulele, "We're friends. Quit calling me sir. Call me Sparrow. Or Red. Or an affectionate nickname. Like Birdie."
"Of course, Mr. Sparrow."
"Close enough." The Sparrow took the red fedora off the hook and put it atop his head, then pulled down the jacket from the peg next to it and shrugged it on, "Come on, we've got business."
"Sir?" Eddie followed him out the door.
"Dragons fucked us. Killed a half-dozen of our guys with their pants down. Just eating at Joe's Diner." Red opened his front door and paused on the threshold, appreciating the daylight.
"That's not Dragon M.O." Eddie stood beside him, checking every possible point of approach.
"It's not. But I know the Dragons that did it, and most importantly I know who was leading them. Shinji Kamigawa."
"Hattori's kid?"
"The same. Asshole's got family ties. And that's gonna work in our favour." Sparrow slid into the E-Type by its driver side window. Eddie crossed around and entered through the door.
"You want me to challenge him."
"Bingo."
"I can take him." Eddie had been among the best swordsmen in the Kuuro Long yakuza. Shinji Kamigawa, he knew from experience, was a good driver, a fair marksman, a prodigal liar, and a terrible swordsman.
"I know you can." The Sparrow pulled out his aviators, tinted red, and slid them over his eyes, "Let's roll."