The Fifth Profession

Hailey shrugged. “Everything's relative. We preferred to think of him as idealistic.”

Savage cursed.

“The agency's been watching Shirai for quite a while,” Hailey said. “One of his lieutenants was on our payroll. He kept us up-to-date on what Shirai was doing, and we sent information through the lieutenant-scandals involving bureaucrats and politicians-that helped Shirai continue disrupting the Japanese establishment. Shirai knew nothing about our help, of course. And then we waited to see if our investment would pay off.”

“That still has nothing to do with me.”

“Well, yes,” Hailey said and wiped sweat off his cheek, “I'm afraid it does. I didn't find out till recently, but some of the men in our group formed their own group. We're conservatives, proud of it. But these other guys…” He swallowed nervously. “They're the kind that thinks Oliver North's the best thing since microwave popcorn, and they had what North would have called a ‘neat’ idea. They figured, why not go all the way? Why not give Shirai a chance to stage an incident that would be so sensational he'd gain all the support he needed? What if it seemed that America felt so threatened by Shirai's anti-American attitude that we sent an assassin to shut him up? A CIA operative. The attempt would fail. The operative would be killed. Shirai would reveal the assassin's link with the agency, and Japan would be incensed. If tens of thousands of Japanese demonstrated because we lost a nuclear weapon eighty miles off their coast, how many hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions, would demonstrate against an assassination attempt engineered by America?”

“But that's… Those guys are as nuts as Shirai was. What in hell made them think it would help America if Japan turned against us?”

“Don't you see? If Japan rejected us, if relations between our countries were severed, Japanese imports would stop. We'd have won the economic war,” Hailey said.

“Yeah, and suppose Japan then sided with the Chinese or the Soviets.”

“No. It wouldn't happen that way. Because Japan doesn't get along with the Chinese and the Soviets. The Japanese-Chinese feud goes back hundreds of years. And the Japanese are angry that the Soviets won't give up a string of northern islands that used to belong to Japan until after the Second World War. Shirai would turn anti- American sentiment into universal anti-foreign sentiment, and we'd be back in business.”

Savage shook his head. “Absolute madness.”

“The splinter group in the agency arranged for Shirai's lieutenant to promote the idea, and Shirai loved it. Mind you, Shirai still didn't know that Americans were suggesting it or that the nutso group in the agency believed that America would gain a lot more than Shirai would. Now,” Hailey said, “this is where you come in. Illegal or not, it's one thing to tell an operative to assassinate someone. It's quite another to order him to go on a suicide mission. No one would do it. What the splinter group needed was an operative who wouldn't know what he faced and, better yet, wouldn't even know he worked for the agency so he wouldn't have second thoughts, contact his control, and back out.”

“And you were-are-my control.”

Hailey sweated more profusely. “We recruited you when you were in the SEALs. In nineteen eighty-three, you pretended to be outraged by America 's invasion of Grenada. Politically motivated, pointless and needless, you said. Fellow SEALs died so a movie-star president could bolster his image, you said. You got drunk. You made speeches in bars. You fought with your best friend.”

“Mac.”

“Yes,” Hailey said. “He was part of the plan. Sworn to secrecy. The two of you trashed a bar. Mac swore in public if he ever saw you again he'd kill you. You left the SEALs and became an executive protector.”

“Trained by Graham.”

“He was also part of the plan. With your cover established, an American who hated his government's policies, no one would suspect that you actually worked for the agency and that every powerful client you protected was actually a target, a means of obtaining information. A protector, pledged to be loyal, has access to a lot of dirty secrets. The information you gave us helped us put pressure on a lot of important people.”

Sickened, Savage turned to Rachel. “You suggested that as a possibility. Remember? After Mac was killed? But I didn't want to believe it.” He glanced back at Hailey. “So for all these years I've been”-bile stung his throat-”a blackmailer.”

“Hey, it's not that bad, Savage. Don't be hard on yourself. You saved a lot of lives. You're a talented protector.”

“That doesn't change the fact that I pledged allegiance to my clients and then betrayed them,” Savage growled.

“Not all of them. Most were legitimate assignments, to maintain your cover… But some clients… Yes, you betrayed them. You've got to believe me, Savage. They deserved to be betrayed.”

Savage stared at the glinting knife in his hand. He almost slammed its point through the table. “And you were my contact. That's how the splinter group learned about me.”

“Your background was perfect. A man with superior military skills and with protection abilities that enabled you to understand and bypass security systems. An operative in deep cover who wouldn't be missed by the agency if you dropped out of sight for a while. And one other item, a crucial detail about your past.”

“What detail?”

“Now here's where we pause for a moment, Savage.”

“Tell me! What detail?”

“No, first it's deal time,” Hailey said. “I'm not telling you all this for fun. The guys who brought me here would just as soon kill me as let me go. I'm walking a narrow line. My price for telling you that crucial detail about your past is my freedom. You're so concerned about honor. Okay, I want your word, I want you to swear that if I tell you, I walk out of here. And this is your incentive-the information's about your father.”

Savage clutched the knife so hard his knuckles whitened.

“What about my father?”

“You won't like it, Savage.”

“He shot himself! If that's your filthy secret, I already know it!”

“Yes, he shot himself,” Hailey said. “The question is why.”

“My father helped organize the Bay of Pigs invasion. When it failed, the government needed a fall-guy. My father, God bless him… Incredibly loyal, he agreed. So he took the heat and resigned. But humiliation ate his soul. The agency meant everything to him. Away from it, he had no purpose. He started drinking. The booze intensified his emptiness. He blew his brains out.”

“Yes and no.”

“What are you talking about?”

“A deal,” Hailey said. “I want to walk out of here. And what I'm selling is the truth about your father's suicide.”

“The truth? My father's dead! What other truth can there be?”

“Plenty. Let me walk out of here, and you'll find out.”

“Maybe I don't want to know. Maybe if I killed you right now…”

Hailey shook his head. “You'd regret it forever. You'd always want to know the secret. And I'll be honest with you. The truth will tear you apart. But that's why you'll want to know.”

Savage glared. “You…” In horror, he remembered the night he'd found his father's body, a towel placed beneath his father's head to minimize the spatter of blood and brains. “You have my word.”

“Not just yours. I want this man's word.” Hailey pointed toward Taro. “He has no obligation to me. And after all, I'm a gaijin. I doubt he'd feel remorse or bound by your word if he killed me.”

Savage slowly turned, directing his gaze toward the bald, wrinkled, stern-eyed Japanese. “Taro- sensei…” Struggling to choose the proper words, Savage bowed. “Taro- sensei, I ask a formal favor of you. Akira explained the significance of such a request. I'm willing to put myself in eternal debt to you. I accept the obligation of giri. I ask you… with respect, I beg you… to spare this man's life if he tells me what I need to know.”