Stackpole, Michael A - Dark Conspiracy 02 (16 page)

His opponent somehow saw enough of what was coming that he leaped up above the attack, but did not clear it entirely. Coyote caught an ankle, and he felt the creature’s center of balance shift. He heard his foe land on the floor, but not heavily enough to cause injury, then it
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rolled away in the whisper of silken robes.

Coyote pushed himself off the floor and leaped to his feet, but his fatigue left him feeling disoriented in the darkness. He half-turned to the left, seeking any clue that could help place him in the room, then stars exploded before his eyes as a kick caught him above the left eye.

His head snapped around to the right and his stunned body tumbled off in that direction.

He hit the ground and bounced once. Regaining momentary control of himself, he let his body spin, and then twisted around so he could let the momentum bring him to his feet again. As he did so, however, he ran into the side of the stairs and smacked his head against the stone.

Huge shimmering balls of light burst like fireworks in his vision. He shook his head and closed his eyes, but nothing would banish them. His left hand snaked back and felt blood coming from the wound in the back of his head.
I
need help.

Something in the darkness grabbed him by the armpits and lifted him like a child onto the steps. Coyote opened his eyes and stared at the thing, but the lightballs made seeing anything clearly impossible. “What are you?”

The thing’s eyes burned with a scarlet light.

Coyote succumbed to the sudden and overwhelming desire to sleep.

Coyote’s eyes opened as Mong prodded him. Lying at the base of the stairs, Coyote saw three of the monks standing around him, and he felt the pressure of a bandage around his head. “Did you see?”

Mong held his hand out. “Quiet. You took a nasty fall.

You should have gotten something to eat after your meditation. You were weak and took a misstep.”

“I did?”

Mong nodded slowly. “A
getsul
heard you cry out as you fell. We came immediately and stitched you up. I don’t know what you dreamt about while you lay here, but it is time to return to your room.”

Coyote closed his eyes. Nice try, Mong, but the dream remark went too far. There was something here. Something more substantial than the sound of one hand

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clapping.

Despite the throbbing pain in the back of his head, Coyote forced himself to conjure up the last image he had seen. He melded all the views of it he had seen into one, then deleted the distortion caused by the balls. Piece after piece slid into place, and he suddenly realized where he had seen the black face with white tusks and red eyes before.

I fought the Yidam down here. He opened his eyes and saw his thought confirmed by Mong’s unguarded glance at him. Fine, Mong. You play your game, and I’ll play mine. Do what you will, but I guarantee this: In the end, I’ll know why a Buddhist demon exists in the heart of this monastery and why you keep this such a deep, dark secret.

Sin lay back in bed as Erika sat up and reached for a cigarette and her lighter. He stroked her back with his right hand. She smiled at him, the lit her cigarette, drew deeply on it and sent a plume of smoke up toward the ceiling.

She offered him the cigarette, but he shook his head.

”Never developed the habit, I’m afraid.”

She smiled, the cherry on the end of the cigarette putting a rosy glow on her face. “I quit a long time ago, but a cigarette still tastes great after sex.” She raked the fingernails of her left hand through the damp hair on his chest. “With you around, though, I could become a regular chain-smoker.”

Sin picked her left hand up and kissed her palm. “Ah, but smoking is bad for you. You’ll have to get plenty of exercise to counteract those evil effects.”

Erika smiled at him and laughed lightly. “That could become a deliriously wonderful cycle, you know.” She yawned.

“My thoughts exactly.” Sin suppressed his own yawn.

”I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.”

Erika nodded and stubbed her cigarette out in the
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ashtray on the nightstand. “Tired but very, very happy.”

She slid down beside him and pulled the sheet up to her waist. Doubling the pillow over, she lay on her left side and smiled at him. “An hour or two of shut-eye, then see what we can do to raise the price of Phillip Morris stock, shall we?”

Sin reached down and pulled the sheet up to her shoulder. He kissed her on the tip of her pert nose, then slowly slipped out of bed. “I’m going to hit the shower for a second here, to cool off. Be back before you know it.”

As he stood up she said, “Wait.”

“What?”

She held her right hand out, thumb erect, as if she were an artist trying to judge relative sizes of objects in a painting. “Just wanted to memorize you so I get you right in this dream I’m planning.”

“Oh?”

“It will be wonderful.” She yawned and stretched.

”Wake me when you get back, and I’ll show you all about it.” She closed her eyes and feigned sleep, then winked at him and snuggled beneath the sheet.

Weaving slightly unsteadily for his first step, Sin stumbled to the bathroom and shut the door before he flicked the light on. Its brightness stung his eyes, but he shielded them with his left hand, then leaned heavily against the sink.

Lowering his hand, he looked up at his reflection and shook his head.

I’m sure Coyote is going to love your spending this much time cloistered with Erika. He smiled as he remembered what she looked like in the electric blue dress currently decorating his living room floor. If he saw her in that dress, he ‘d understand. He might not like it, but he’d understand.

He opened the shower stall’s smoky-glass door and stepped in. He set the water on medium and pointed the nozzle toward the wall. As the door snapped shut behind him, he yanked up on the water control handle and started a stinging spray from the shower head. He let it warm up and swung the nozzle in line with his head.

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Washing down over him, the water felt as wonderful as his time at the Kimpunshima party did. With Erika on his arm, no one paid too much attention to him. This gave him the freedom to listen a lot, and he realized that Kimpunshima had not changed too much since he had lived in Japan.

It was still the bastion of ethnocentric fools who gloried in the high salaries their companies paid them to live in Japan, without realizing that, contrary to their self-images, they were not at the top of the food chain.

What had surprised him was the number, and relative importance, of the Japanese at the party. Most had been identified to him as middle- to upper-level employees with different Japanese corporations. It struck him that the majority of them were American- or European-born or raised and had been selected for ease of interface with the Kimpunshima residents. Still, Sin had been told one person, a handsome young man, was Ryuhito, the emperor’s grandson, which would have been a great departure from the sort of interaction he had seen in the past.

The other odd thing he noticed was a recurring topic of conversation. He had been used to fads of all types traveling like diseases through the Kimpunshima population when he had lived in Japan. At one point, for a month he preferred to forget entirely, it seemed like every European had a Hula Hoop grafted to his middle. Paleo-retro parties built on the 1950s theme predominated the social schedule at the time. He remembered one costume party in which people were required to come as their favorite old television character—and they had to dress in shades of black and white with gray make-up to keep the look genuine. He recalled a nasty fight when Ethel Mertz found Fred with Rowdy Yates and Dale Evans, but in general, it had been harmless.

The difference he found at the party was that people almost seemed to be proselytizing about Arrigo and Michelle El-Leichter and the Galbro training center they had. At first he thought they ran some sort of business-skill improvement center, but the sense he got from folks was that it was something more.
They kept hinting at hidden
knowledge, which means they’re being conned. One of
the things old Horatio might not have dreamt of is that
there are folks who are out to separate anyone and
everyone from their money.

Sin heard the bathroom door open and close. “Decide to join me?”

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The shower stall door swung open. Sin found himself staring down the bore of his own Beretta 9mm pistol. The small, dark-haired Japanese man holding the gun eased the hammer back, then leaned against the wash stand. “It is illegal to possess one of these inJapan, Mr. MacNeal.”

“Then I’d hide it while you have the chance, Nagashita.”

Sin shut the water off. “I won’t tell.”

The Internal Defense Cadre colonel shook his head. “I could shoot you now, you know. I could tell my superiors that you jumped me and that I had to defend myself.”

“They’d never believe you. They know you’d kill me with your bare hands just for the pleasure of it.” Sin glanced at the towel on the rack near the shower. “May I?”

Nagashita nodded and dropped the gun’s aiming point to his legs. “I do want you alive, but walking is optional.”

Easy, Sin. This is no time to fool around.He reached for the towel slowly as he looked at the IDC officer. The man wore clothing associated by countless movies with ninja warriors. While his uniform looked traditional, Sin could tell from the tightness of the fabric across Nagashita’s chest that he wore body armor beneath it. His bracers and greaves appeared to be formed from Kevlar, and Sin did not doubt that the
shuriken
on the weapon harness were ceramic instead of metal. A mini-Uzi filled the holster on Nagashita’s right thigh, while the more traditional
katana
had been slung on his back with its hilt protruding just above his left shoulder.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Sin finished drying himself off, then wrapped the towel around his waist. “You can’t still be angry about missing me three years ago, can you? I thought you a much better loser than that.”

Nagashita’s dark eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

He gently let the hammer on the Beretta fall, then dangled the gun from his index finger and extended it to Sin. “That has not been forgotten, but I am merely an instrument of my master’s will. My own satisfaction means nothing in the face of his wishes.”

Sin took the gun and popped the clip out. Pulling the slide back, he popped the single-chambered round out and caught it before it hit the floor. He replaced it in the clip, but did not return the clip to the gun. “What do you want,
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Nagashita?”

The IDC man opened the bathroom door. “Your living room, now.”

Sin walked out of the bathroom and in the light of the bedside lamp saw that wet, rumpled sheets and cigarette ash were the only evidence that Erika had ever been there.

He tossed the gun and clip on the bed, then reached for the pants he had draped over a chair.

Nagashita shoved him from behind. “He just asked me to deliver you,
nendo.
He said nothing about having you dress.”

Snarling soundlessly, Sin walked to the bedroom doorway and saw six IDC ninja stationed around the room. Two stood at the doorway through which he passed and another two stood beside the main door. The last two bracketed the chair that had been pulled into the middle of the living room floor.

The only light came from the bedroom and filtered out and around Sin’s shadow. Moving forward and to the side let a tantalizingly brief flash of light wash over the old man sitting in the chair, then Nagashita’s black outline covered him.
No, it’s not possible.

The voice coming from the chair sounded to Sin to be far too strong for the frail body he had seen. “Forgive me, Mr. MacNeal, but the logistics of having you visit me are more fraught with danger than the reverse. Also, please excuse the fact that you will never see Ms. Conklin again in Japan. Her visitation and work permits have been revoked.It is for her safety.”

Sin shook his head, scattering droplets of water around the room. “I don’t understand.”

The little man’s silhouette held up its right hand and rubbed thumb against forefingers until a droplet of water evaporated. This evening you attended a party that included among its number my grandson. Your presence was brought to Colonel Nagashita’s attention, and he immediately requested the honor of killing you. You caused him much embarrassment three years ago and, at that time, he requested leave of me to kill himself.”

Sin glanced back over his shoulder at Nagashita. “He always was a traditionalist.”