He'd realized Jack could be blackmailed, if the stakes were

his constituents' jobs and lives. But I didn't need a job. And the only

life . . .

Of course! It was obvious. Amy.

Could it be I was dealing with a madman who made people disappear?

If I was about to take on a pro like Noda, I had to cover every

possibility. Which meant I had to get her out, away, beyond his reach.

Today.

Still, though, there were so many questions. Who was really behind all

the moves, the master puppeteer? Was it only Matsuo Noda, or was this

possibly, just possibly, something that wound its way even higher. If

so, who was the point man on that? Akira Mori?

The only rational countermove now was to back off and "survey

prevailing conditions." Miyamoto Mushashi's _keiki o shiru to iu koto_.

But to do that we had to remove ourselves beyond the reach of Dai

Nippon's sword. How long did we have?

I glanced at the clock on my desk, the little Sony digital. The number

12:18 stared back, the two dots in the middle flashing every second.

Amy was still at school, and for the moment I couldn't think of a safer

place. They wouldn't even let me in without a pass. She didn't get out

till four P.M.

So now what?

Simple. In swordsmanship, vigilance is everything. And there are two

things you always have to keep in view. The first is called _ken_, the

surface actions, the moves your opponent wants you to see. The second,

and more important, is _kan_, the essence of things, the real truth.

_Ken _covers the superficial moves; _kan _gives you the big picture.

Instinctively I still believed we had only been witness to _ken_, the

distractions, the insignificant feints of our opponent. The deeper

wisdom of _kan_ still lay beyond us. Time to probe.

We had three and a half hours.

I got up and headed downstairs to retrieve a couple of very important

memos. If we needed them, we'd have them. The rest of the pile I

brought back upstairs and locked in the sword room (the closest thing I

had to a safe). Finally, I reflected a second and paused to scribble

Emma a note, asking her to feed and walk Ben in case I wasn't around

for a while. That taken care of, I retrieved my heavy topcoat from the

front closet, walked out into the street, and grabbed a cab for the

offices of Dai Nippon, International.

Maybe our opening move should be _uromekasu to iu koto_, to feint a

thrust that would induce a state of confusion in Noda's mind. Then we

could stage a tactical retreat to plan the final, all-out attack.

Retreat to where? Well, that part at least was easy: the obvious

hideaway was my place down in the islands. The thing to do was to

quietly catch American 291 and head for the Caribbean. If Noda did

manage to track us down, he'd be in for a surprise. Let me explain.

Back when the world was young and Amy was still a gleam in our eye,

Joanna and I acquired a rambling white fortress, complete with pool,

that was being offered to the first tourist appearing on St. Croix that

day with ready cash. Seemed its Cosa Nostra owner back in Sicily (so

the story went) suddenly needed a transfusion of a hundred grand in

bail money. Fortunately I'd had a good year and happened to have the

necessary liquidity. It was luxurious beyond vulgarity. Hardwood

parquet floors, heavy tile roof (to withstand an Interpol bombing run?

Who knows?), manicured grounds, satellite dish, a bar worthy of Caesars

Palace, three bedrooms, and music in every room. It was oversize and

garish and pretentious and . . . who cares, I loved the place. Sort of

a Roman villa in the middle of paradise. However, because of the

peculiar requirements of its former tenant, it also had a security

setup to shame Fort Knox, including a six-foot fence, two-inch-thick

doors, and TV monitors all over the grounds.

If we could locate a little hardware to match Noda's Uzis, he'd be in

for a surprise should he try and send down a Dai Nippon hit squad for

an unscheduled visit.

But first things first. Right now we needed to somehow lure Matsuo Noda

into revealing more of his overall strategy.

After the cab dropped me off, I rode the elevator up to twelve and

passed through security. The complement of guards, I noticed in

passing, had just been expanded. Instead of two, now there were four.

And when I walked out onto the floor, nobody said anything, but there

was an almost palpable air of tension. Stony silence, analysts nervous.

Bad vibes, very bad vibes.

I just ignored the stares and headed straight for Tarn's office. She

was waiting, and she had an identical reading of the

situation. The minute I walked in, she got up and shut the door. Her

first words . . .

"He just brought in more security. That, and the IBM thing. Matt, he's

getting worried."

"Bet your ass he is. We're moving in too close. But I think Noda

figures he's just toying with us now. Having some fun before he cuts us

in half."

"I'm not afraid of him. No matter what he tries." She glanced at the

door. "Did you bring the memos?"

"Here in my briefcase. But I think it's too soon to show him everything

we have. Right now he doesn't know what we've got. That's better."

"Well, I've just begun to fight. I'm going to Tokyo to get the truth

out of Ken." She paused, and her voice trembled slightly with anger.

"He's got some heavy explaining to do."

"You're incredible." I just looked at her. "I almost believe you still

can't accept that your friend Asano is in on Noda's play. Since he's

such a terrific guy."

"Matt, I don't believe it. He wouldn't be part of this. You don't know

him."

"That I don't."

"All I'm saying is, this doesn't feel right. He wouldn't involve MITI

in whatever Noda's planning." She sat down, running her hands through

her tousled dark hair. "You know, the fact is we still don't know for

sure who's really behind what."

"Exactly. How does everybody fit in, including us? We've got pieces of

a puzzle lying around--a section here, a section there--but something

fundamental is missing."

"So what do we do next?"

"How about a little joust with our friend downstairs? Try and feel him

out. Maybe we can lure him into making another move, something that'll

give away more of his game."

"You don't think he's actually going to talk."

"Not really. He'll feint, parry. But if we watch carefully, maybe we'll

glimpse more of the outline of his strategy. Then we'll know what our

counter scenario has to be." I decided to hold off on telling her the

getaway plan. Assuming the walls had ears, we'd already said too much.

"Look, make you a deal. First let's see what happens with Noda, then we

decide what to do about your friend Asano."

"All right. But let's stay cool." She was locking her desk.

"You read my mind."

With that settled, we strolled out, past the doubled security, and

headed down to eleven. The way people looked at us, I felt as naked as

Tam had been in the bath Saturday night. How much did they know?

Matsuo Noda was in his office. His secretary buzzed us right through,

almost as though he'd been waiting for our appearance.

"Dr. Richardson. Mr. Walton." He rose to greet us. "How timely. There

is an urgent matter we have to discuss."

"We want to talk about MITI." I decided to try and break his rhythm as

quickly as possible. Take the action to him.

"Then this is a coincidence." An easy smile as he resumed his seat.

"That happens to be the very matter I wanted to explore--"

"What we want to know," Tam interrupted, "here and now, is whether our

program is being run by the ministry."

"Dr. Richardson, you . . . and Mr. Walton, are in the employ of Dai

Nippon, International, not MITI." He leaned back in his chair. "Though

of course nothing in this world is entirely simple. Certain . . .

interests of the ministry are germane to our programs here."

"Then we'd like to hear about it." She glanced at the leather chairs

but decided to remain on her feet. I did the same.

His face was like granite. "Well, you are aware we've occasionally

received input from MITI's Industrial Technology arm.

"How about Research and Planning, Ken's section?"

"Only a few informal--"

"Nothing to do with Marketshare - 90?"

He betrayed a hint of confusion, quickly masked. "Dr. Richardson, with

all due respect, I fear you may not be entirely aware of the various

forces at play here." He leaned back. "This program of ours must

succeed. There are many avenues of responsibility, but all difficulties

will be overcome."

"What do you mean?"

"All in time, please believe me." He smiled once more. "I'll readily

grant you our acquisition program may have evolved slightly as of late

in the direction of more-solid securities, but you can be assured that

is merely a response to the concerns of certain conservative

institutional investors in Tokyo." He continued, a silver tongue to

match his silver hair. "Risk is involved. Not to mention an enormous

quantity of funds. There is pressure on us just now to try and maintain

a prudent balance in our portfolio." He glanced at his watch

impatiently. As if he was anxious to move ahead. "Which brings us to

the matter we have to address."

"Just to set the record straight"--I decided to do a little parrying of

my own--"you have nothing to say about any kind of MITI involvement?

Including Marketshare - 90?"

"Well, this Marketshare - 90 proposition you refer to probably should

be thought of as merely one of the ministry's more ambitious trial

balloons, nothing more. It has the quality of--how do you say it?--

woolgathering. Whatever its purpose, it should in no way be confused

with Dai Nippon's objectives." Such was Noda's reply. Then in a

remarkably convincing tone he added, "How could the ministry's planning

possibly have anything to do with our program here?"

The Samurai Strategy · 第 85 / 135 题