The Fifth Profession

someoneelse. “One car, then two, then three, as word of the situation's gravity spread. The coroner arrived. Police photographers. A forensic team. Senior police officials. At one point, I counted twenty-two investigators in my home. They listened to my account. They made me repeat it several times. Their questions became more detailed, their expressions more grave. I'd rehearsed my story before they arrived. I'd made necessary adjustments so the crime scene would be consistent with the robbery attempt I described and the murderous reaction of the intruders when they were discovered. But this isn't America, where multiple killings seem an everyday occurrence. Here, violent crime involving handguns is rare. The investigators were grim and methodical. In my favor, although I'd fired and killed with one of the intruders’ pistols, I'd also used a sword in defending my home, and that-as I anticipated-evoked tradition, making me seem heroic.

“As noon approached, I was still being questioned. I anticipated your concern if I didn't phone the restaurant on schedule, so I asked permission to excuse myself and make a call to break an appointment. Imagine my concern when I learned that you weren't at the restaurant to receive my call. I hid my feelings and answered more questions. By midafternoon, the bodies had been removed. Eko mustered strength despite her grief and accompanied Churi's body to the morgue, to make arrangements for his funeral. In the meantime, the investigators decided they wanted me to go with them to headquarters and dictate a formal statement. On the street, the police cars had attracted a swarm of reporters. Without making it seem I had something to hide, I tried not to face their cameras, but at least one man took my picture.”

Akira's voice became somber, and Savage knew why. A protector had to be anonymous. If a photograph was published, Akira's ability to defend a principal would be jeopardized, because an assailant might be able to recognize and attack him before attacking the primary target. In this case, the potential complications were even more serious. A newspaper photo of Akira would draw the attention of his and Savage's hunters and possibly hinder their search.

“It couldn't be helped,” Savage said.

“At headquarters while I dictated my statement, the police checked my background. I'd told them I was a security specialist. Several major corporations I'd worked for gave the police a positive assessment of me. But I sensed that the police checked other sources. Whoever they spoke to, the police soon treated me differently. With deference. I didn't understand their reaction, but I certainly didn't argue when they told me I could leave. But not to go far. They made clear they'd want to talk to me again.”

“And after that?” Rachel asked, self-conscious, her voice strained, the first time she'd spoken in several minutes.

“An enemy wouldn't have had any trouble following the police car that drove me to headquarters,” Akira said. “It turned out the police were so inexplicably deferential that they offered to drive me back to my home. I politely declined, pleading the need to walk and clear my head. Puzzled, I found a side entrance from the building and tried to blend with the crowd on the street. But I soon discovered I had company. Japanese. Skilled, though not skilled enough. For the next two hours, I tried to elude them. Six o'clock loomed quickly. I managed to use a pay phone to call the restaurant on schedule, knowing how distressed you'd be if I didn't report. But again you weren't at the restaurant. Something was obviously wrong! What happened to you?”

“Soon,” Savage said. “Finish your story.”

Akira stared at his teacup. “Seeking shelter in a public place, a bar that wasn't so crowded that I wouldn't see my pursuers coming in, I noticed a news report on a television behind the counter. Kunio Shirai. Another demonstration.” He shook his head in dismay. “But this one was larger, more intense, almost a riot. Outside a U.S. Air Force base. Whatever Shirai's trying to do, he's turned up the pressure dramatically.”

“We saw the same report.” Rachel's forehead was knotted.

“And somehow we're connected with him,” Savage said. “Or with the man we knew as Muto Kamichi, whom we never met.”

“But saw cut in half at the nonexistent Medford Gap Mountain Retreat.” The veins in Akira's temples throbbed. “Madness.” His eyes blazed. “I knew I had only one option-to seek safety with my mentor.” He glanced toward Taro. “I didn't dare return to my home. But I couldn't ignore my responsibility to Eko. On the chance that she'd come back from being with Churi at the morgue and arranging his funeral, I used the phone in the bar to call my home and felt startled when she answered ‘hai,’ the warning signal to run. I quickly asked her, ‘Why?’ ‘Strangers,’ she blurted. ‘Gaijin. Guns.’ Someone yanked the phone from her hand. An American spoke Japanese. ‘We want to help you,’ he said. ‘Come back.’ I slammed down the phone before they could trace the call. Americans with guns? In my home? And they claim they want to help? Not likely! The police would have posted guards to restrict reporters from the crime scene. How did Americans get inside?” Akira glared, his emotions finally showing. “If I could get to Eko and rescue her…”

“We called her as well,” Savage said. “At eleven tonight. She gave us the warning signal before an American grabbed the phone. They need her. They'll question her, but she knows nothing. They'll scare her, but she's valuable as a hostage. I don't think they'll hurt her.”

“ ‘Don't think’ isn't good enough,” Akira snapped. “She's like a mother to me!”

Taro raised his wrinkled hands, motioning for silence. He spoke to Akira in Japanese.

Akira responded. His melancholy tinged with relief, eyes bright, he turned to Savage. “My sensei has vowed to rescue her. His most advanced students will leave a few weeks early. Tonight will be their graduation. And Eko's release.”

I bet, Savage thought. Those guys upstairs looked as if there wasn't any obstacle they couldn't overcome. Whoever's in Akira's house, they won't know what hit them.

Savage bowed to Taro. “For my friend, I thank you.”

Taro frowned. “You call Akira a friend?”

“We've been through a lot together.”

“But the friendship is impossible,” Taro said.

“Why? Because I'm a gaijin? Call it respect. I like this man.”

Taro smiled enigmatically. “And I, as you put it, like you. But we will never be friends.”

“Your loss.” Savage shrugged.

Taro raised his head in confusion.

Akira interrupted, speaking solemnly to Taro.

Taro nodded. “Yes. An irreverent attempt to be humorous. So American. Amusing. But another reason that we'll never be friends.”

“Then let's put it this way. I'm a fellow protector. A good one. And I ask for professional courtesy.” Savage didn't give Taro a chance to react. Pivoting quickly toward Akira, he asked, “And then you came here?”

“Where I waited in case my enemies arrived. I couldn't imagine why you hadn't gone to the restaurant as we agreed. I feared that you still wouldn't be there when I called again in the morning.”

“Just as we feared for you after Eko gave us the warning signal.”

“What happened?“

Savage focused his thoughts, trying as best he could to restrain emotion, to summarize objectively what they'd been through: the chase at the Meiji Shrine, the escape from the gardens, the attack on the street.

“But we don't know if Hailey's men were in the van or if they shot at the van.” Rachel's voice dropped, plummeting toward despair. “More questions. The answers keep getting farther away.”

“And maybe that's the point,” Akira said. “To keep us confused. Off balance.”

“The obstacle race and the scavenger hunt,” Savage said.

Akira looked puzzled.

“That was Graham's view of life. It fits. While we search, we try to elude whoever wants to stop us.”

“But we don't know which group is which,” Akira said. He repeated a word he'd used earlier: “Madness.”

“I may be able to help you,” Taro said. “With regard to Kunio Shirai.”

It took a moment before Savage registered what Taro had said. Chest contracting, he stared in surprise at the