Power and Empire

“I hardly knew him, really,” she continued. “But I thought him an honorable man. My final year of university, my father took me to climb Fujisan. If you do not climb it once, they say, you are not Japanese.” She smiled. “If you climb it twice, they say you are a fool. Anyway, halfway up the mountain, we passed a small handicapped man being harassed by two other, much larger teenagers. My father urged me to continue walking and forget about the poor soul. He said we should not get involved in other people’s lives, and then recited a proverb that I will never forget: jaku niku kyō shoku—the weak are meat, the strong eat. I knew my father had taught me better than that, but on that day I saw the truth. He was a coward. I told him that I had never been so ashamed. But my father was not sad. He merely smiled at my anger and then turned back to confront the bullies. I had never before seen him in a physical fight, and I must say that it was quite impressive.”

“It was a test,” Ryan mused.

“Just so,” Yuki said. “My father had given me an out with this unplanned situation. Had I been silent, I am certain he still would have gone back to assist the poor man. But he never would have let me inside, invited me to follow him in his chosen calling. That is what he called this work, a calling. It was never a job to him.”

“That’s a good observation,” Ryan said.

“My father very much liked your American idea of a sheepdog, protecting the weak. I am sure he wished he would have had a son…”

“I doubt that,” Ryan said. “I’d like to meet your father.”

Yuki gave a solemn nod. “Sadly, he passed away last—”

She paused, focused on the cell phone in the center of the coffee table. An audible click said the GSM bug had activated at the other end of the line. Hushed voices rose above a hiss of static. A female spoke in broken Chinese.

“That is Kim Soo,” Yuki said, whispering though she did not need to. She leaned forward to listen intently.

Chavez and Adara sat up in their respective sleeping spots, as if programmed to rouse at the sound of static.

Amanda Salazar wailed in Spanish, vowing revenge for the death of her friend Beatriz. Chavez translated. Apparently, none of them knew who had pulled the trigger. No one had seen someone named Matías since earlier that day. He and his machete were both missing. Amanda said she had never trusted him. He certainly had something to do with Beatriz’s murder. Several men began to speak at once, this time in Mandarin. Kim Soo’s voice came over the phone again, louder than the rest, probably nearer the mics. From her tone, it sounded as if she was flirting with one of the men.

Jack waited for someone to translate. Yuki suddenly looked up at him. She started to speak, but Midas beat her to the punch.

“They’re going to Japan,” he said.

The conversation continued for another ten minutes along with the clank of silverware and the slurp of someone eating soup. At length, the microphone turned off. The battery may have died, but it was late and it was more likely that they’d all gone to bed.

“So apparently,” Midas said, sitting up now, “somebody wants Chen in Japan for a meeting.”

“What kind of meeting?” Ryan asked.

“That is not clear,” Yuki said. “His statements make no sense. It is as if his operation was of his own making.”

“What operation is that?” Chavez asked.

“That I do not know,” Yuki said. “The conversation was too broken. Chen sounds unsure of himself. This is odd behavior for someone who has exhibited nothing but extreme self-confidence up to this point.”

“I heard no mention of the bombing,” Adara said. “It seems like that’s all they would be talking about.”

“Indeed,” Yuki said.

“Amanda Salazar has to be involved with that bombing,” Ryan said. “I watched her do something with her cell phone at the exact moment it went off. And if she is involved, then Chen is involved up to his ass.”

“That would certainly seem to be the case,” Yuki said. “But all we know for sure is that Vincent Chen plans to return to Japan with Kim Soo.”

Ryan rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling incredibly tired. Air Force One would be in Japan in less than forty-eight hours with his dad on board, touching down right in the middle of — Ryan didn’t know what, but it wasn’t good.

Yukiko was already on her feet. She pulled a bag from the closet and began to throw in her things. “I am very sorry,” she said, “but I must return to Japan at once.”

“How will you get back?” Jack asked. He started to offer a ride on the Gulfstream but caught the slightest headshake from Chavez.

“My embassy has an aircraft,” Yuki said. “I apologize abandoning you like this.” She looked at Jack and smiled. “Perhaps we will meet again, Jack san. Under more pleasant circumstances.”

He smiled. “I hope so,” he said.