"Maybe the j.a.panese are tired of the role we have given them," Michael said, "as America's va.s.sal in the Pacific."

"The morals of defense aside," Jonas said, "there's the fact of j.a.pan's rearming to consider. For more than forty years, they have had a steadfast reluctance to the kind of militarism that goes hand in hand with a large defense budget. They still remember Hiroshima and Nagasaki. So much so that they've refused to allow even American nuclear-powered armaments in j.a.panese waters.

"The combination of aggressive militarism and the overreaching of economic ambition is what got them into a world war. It d.a.m.n near destroyed the entire country once. I'd have thought they would do everything in their power to keep it from happening again.

"So what are we to make of this new budget? And of the j.a.panese arrogance in the economic sphere? It seems to me as if the j.a.panese are beginning to resonate to the same dangerous chord that caused them to declare war against us forty-odd years ago."

"You?re jumping at shadows," Michael said. "Just because n.o.buo Yamamoto and his party don't want to play by the American rules anymore, you start waving the flag all over the place."

"Michael," Jonas said quietly, "an independent j.a.pan is a disaster waiting to happen, take it from me. The b.a.s.t.a.r.ds are crazy. They are obsessed with freeing themselves from dependence on foreign oil."

"Perfectly understandable," Michael said. "If you were stuck on the far side of the Pacific with no natural energy resources, you'd feel the same way."

"I don't like it," Jonas said. "What was merely a barely detectable drift in unofficial sentiment six months ago has suddenly become a very official series of major policy shifts."

Michael said, "Get me over there and-"

"You're going to Hawaii," Jonas interrupted. "I told you that we had one lead to your father's death. That lead is on the island of Maui. He is a man named Fat Boy Ichimada. He's the oyabun, the head, of the Taki-gumi Yakuza family in the Hawaiian Islands. Hotel records show that your father called Ichimada the night before he was killed. I want to know why."

Jonas opened a file, pa.s.sed four photos over to Michael. "Here's as much as we know from this end. Ichimada's boss- the oyabun of the Taki-gumi-is Masas.h.i.taki." He pointed to a black-and-white photo of a wolf-faced man. "He's the youngest of the three Taki brothers. Their father, Wataro Taki,"-he pointed to another photo-"died recently. The consensus on Wataro is that he was the G.o.dfather of the Yakuza. He brought them out of the twilight world of smalltime hoodlums and gamblers into the legitimate-and not so legitimate-arena of big-time conglomerate business.

"I must admit, of all the Yakuza oyabun, Wataro was by far the best of the bunch. He was legitimately against communist encroachment in j.a.pan, and ever since the Communist-instigated '48 riots along the Kobe docks, his clan helped the Tokyo police on many occasions."

Jonas pointed to a third photo. "Just after Wataro died, his eldest son, Hiroshi, was killed under suspicious circ.u.mstances. One rumor has it that Masashi ordered the a.s.sa.s.sination to move him closer to taking over his father's position. Another, more persistent rumor attributes the death to someone named Zero. No one knows who Zero is, only that he's a kind of ronin, a masterless warrior operating within the Yakuza sphere, yet apparently not a part of it, not bound by any of its rules or laws of giri. There are, apparently, many stories about Zero. So many, in fact, that it is doubtful all of them could possibly be true. Yet the Yakuza firmly believes them. Even the clan bosses are afraid of Zero."

At the first mention of Zero, Michael felt a little chill run down his spine.

Zero: the absence of law; the place where the Way of the warrior has no power.

No wonder the Yakuza were afraid of this ronin; he was well named.

Jonas snapped the edge of the last photo. "That leaves Joji, the middle brother. Masashi has already thrown him out of the Taki-gumi. We can discount Wataro's adopted daughter, Michiko Yamamoto. She's far older than the boys and hasn't been active in Taki-gumi affairs for years. Now, maybe your father knew more than this. It wouldn't surprise me. He had dealings with these people years ago, and as far as the j.a.panese are concerned, with such ties and obligations, time doesn't exist."

Jonas threw a thick folder across the table. "Everything you'll need is in there: tickets, pa.s.sport, j.a.panese visa, files on Ichimada and the Taki-gumi, maps of Maui. You ever been there? No? Well, it's a piece of cake compared to some other places. Easy enough to get around, virtually impossible to get lost, except on the wild side around Hana. But you're going to the other end of the island: to Kahakuloa. The area's lush and mountainous, but manageable.

"You'll find maps of Ichimada's compound, details about his security system, the number of men he employs and the like. You can trust the intelligence one hundred percent. But it'll be up to you how to get inside. Don't count on him inviting you. And getting close to him when he's on the outside is too risky.

His men are all armed, and they're not afraid to shoot first. Okay?"

Michael nodded.

"A Jeep will be waiting for you at Kahului airport. Your hotel room's been paid for. There is five thousand dollars in there, but an account has been opened for you at the Daiwo bank in Kahului should you need more."

Michael hefted the packet. "You said something about a pa.s.sport and a j.a.panese visa," he said.

Jonas grunted. "I haven't been reading your tea leaves, if that's what you think. I just like to have all the bases covered."

"Well," Michael said, "if I do get to j.a.pan, I'll do a little poking around about Yamamoto and his business a.s.sociates. I've still got a lot of friends over there."

Jonas held up his hands. "Don't do me any favors, Michael. Please. You're going to have your hands full just tracking down your father's murderer and Audrey's abductor. Your father's area of expertise, the Yakuza turf, is your territory now. Get used to it, and stick to it. All right?"

Michael had returned to studying the death poem his father had written. "Maybe I spoke too soon," he said. "Maybe this is a riddle-a kind of test my father is giving me." He closed his eyes. Something flashed through his mind,something Audrey had caused him to remember that night of reminiscence. "There is something. When Audrey and I were younger, we were caught in a snowstorm."

Falling snow. "I built a shelter out of the snow. Audrey wanted to run, but I stopped her. I pulled her into the shelter, and we huddled together until Dad found us. Afterward, he said that shelter saved our lives."

"Sure," Jonas said. "I remember him telling me how he brought you home. He was proud of you, son." He shrugged. "But I don't see what that's got to do with this poem."

"That's just it." Falling snow. "I can't quite explain-" Egrets call to their mates. Michael's head snapped up. "That's it! It must be!"

"What?"

"Egrets don't call to their mates," Michael said excitedly. "They call to their families."

"Yes?" Jonas still didn't see it.

I called and called, Mike, Audrey said. I thought Dad would hear me all the way back at the lodge. Do you remember? Michael remembered.

He stabbed at the letter. "This is only half of it!" he said. "Whatever is in here, whatever clue's been left for me, it's only part of the message Dad left me."

Jonas spread his hands. "Where in G.o.d's name is the other half?"

"Audrey has it."

"What?" Jonas almost leaped out of his chair. "What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?"

"Don't you see, Uncle Sammy? We're the egrets, Audrey and I. Calling to each other."

"I don't understand."

"She told me Dad sent her a postcard."

"Listen, son, my people were over the house from top to bottom. There was nothing of a recent nature from your father."

Michael stared at Jonas. "Then she's got it on her," he said. "Jonas, don't you see? This could be why Audrey was kidnapped now. To get the information my father sent her."

Jonas said nothing.

Michael looked down at the letter from his father, wondered if someone else had read it. "Uncle Sammy?"

"We're looking at an awful lot of ifs. But it is possible," Jonas admitted finally.

"Who could have intercepted this letter?" Michael asked.

Jonas shook his head. "Any number of people. But really, we don't know if anybody did."

"Dammit!" Michael said. "Give me a better explanation."

Jonas stared bleakly at Michael. "I understand your frustration, son. And right now I'm in the dark as to why your sister was kidnapped." He drummed his fingertips against the desk top. "For now, we had better a.s.sume the worst. The fact is, Audrey is in the gravest danger. We also have to a.s.sume that there is a very strict time limit. If whoever kidnapped her knows she's got information that Philip pa.s.sed on to her in some manner." He looked at Michael. "Of course, the corollary of that a.s.sumption is that they'll come after you next."

"We've got to save her," Michael said. "Besides, I know I'll never understand the message my father left until we do."

Jonas turned to stare out the window. The sun was coming down, sending deep gold shafts slanting into the office. At last he said, "Follow your instincts, son. Right now they seem to be our best-our only-offense."

Michael rose.

"One more thing," Jonas said. "Don't underestimate this Ichimada character-or any of the Yakuza you're likely to meet. They're tough, and they have no compunctions about taking a human life. Watch your back from the moment you get off the plane. Ichimada's people monitor everyone's comings and goings.

"By the way, you'll find a Beretta in the glove compartment of the Jeep."

"No gun," Michael said."Michael, you can't drive around there unarmed."

"Get me a katana, then. A good one."

"I can't promise it'll be as good as the one your father gave you."

"That would be impossible," Michael said. "Just do the best you can."

Jonas hesitated, then nodded. "It'll be waiting for you." He gave Michael a quick smile, stood up. He stuck out his hand and, as Michael took it, said, "Good luck, son. G.o.dspeed."

"I can see you."

Water lapping.

"I'm the only one who can."

Lapping at pilings.

Masashi smiling into the gloom, at the shadows. "I'm the only one who knows who you are." He gestured. "Zero."

At their backs, the Sumida River pulsed with the vehicles of constant commerce. Ancient pilings creaked; rats squeaked, running like acrobats along hawsers.

"My Zero." He laughed. A pa.s.sing boat sprayed brilliant shards of lights through the pilings, into their intimate meeting ground. It seemed to illuminate the cruel cast to Masashi's expression. In a moment the gloom returned, and Masashi felt the movement. He drew the tanto, the j.a.panese dagger, from its hidden scabbard at his waist.

He could see Zero moving, and flicked the tip of his weapon in that direction.

Before he could react to his error, he felt a blow numbing his left hand, so that the tanto dropped to the rotting timbers at his feet.

The razor-sharp blade of a katana glinted.

"Will you kill me now?" Masashi asked. "Well, all right, get on with it. Do you imagine that I am afraid of you?"

Then the katana was coming for his throat. Masashi, stand- j ing his ground, clapped his hands together. The blade was caught between his palms. For a moment they struggled, each one trying to wrest away the other's grip. Even though Zero had the advantage, the blade stayed between Masashi's powerful hands.

Masashi spat. "Fear is for others to feel, Zero. You know what will happen should you hurt me-or try to foil me in any way. I've made that quite clear, haven't I?"

Masashi relaxed, let go of the blade. In a moment, Zero had handed it over. It was coercion, not strength or strategy, that decided this contest. Masashi held the katana up so that it was. .h.i.t by one of the shafts of moving light. In this manner, the sword appeared as if it were piercing the darkness. The worked silver and gold on its guard sparkled like a burst of stars in their enclosed world.

Prince Yamato Takeru's legendary blade, symbol of the Jiban, soul of j.a.pan.

"You brought it back," Masashi said.

Zero turned away so as not to witness the expression of sheer avarice on Masashi's face. "You left me no other choice."

Masashi tore his gaze away from the shining sword. He nodded. "Yes, that's true. The calls come regularly. Michiko keeps you informed. She talks to the child every day. 'I am alive and well,' the tiny voice says, or something to that effect. So Michiko knows. The child is perfectly fine. So long as you do everything I say. That is our arrangement, yes? And it will remain so until I have no more use for you-until I have nothing else to fear from Michiko."

Masashi nodded. "There is a lesson to be learned from this, dear Zero. Power is so ephemeral, so fleeting. Michiko was always feared in Yakuza circles, almost as much as my father was. Just as you are feared."

"I am feared," Zero said, "because Wataro Taki used me to keep the other Yakuza families in line."

"My father used you to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies. He used you to paralyze them. It is only right that I, who have inherited my father's place in the Taki-gumi, should have inherited your skills as well."

"How the Taki-gumi has changed since Wataro's death!" Zero said. "You aredestroying the family-everything your father built-through your overriding ambition and greed."

"My father was living in the past," Masashi said. "His time had gone; he was too stubborn to see that. His death was a merciful blessing for all of us."

"It was neither merciful nor a blessing," Zero said evenly. "Your father died in great pain. His death benefited only those filled with an evil venality.

You and Kozo Shiina. It is Shiina, your father's enemy for decades, who will have the last laugh. The Taki-gumi will soon be riven by greed and blind avarice. The lieutenants cannot help aping their oyabun. They will fight with one another over power and territory, just as you and your brothers have fought. They will make the family vulnerable to the other families, who were held in check by the force of Wataro's will."

"A fanciful-and totally inaccurate-reading of the future." Masashi shrugged.

"But in the event that there is a grain of truth to what you say, I always have you, Zero. Whosoever defies my will shall be destroyed."

"That is what happened to Hiroshi, isn't it?" Zero said. "I had no hand in Hiroshi's heinous death, but I'll bet you did. Was it Ude, your executioner, who murdered poor Hiroshi? Hiroshi was the eldest son, he was Wataro's choice to succeed him, to become the new oyabun of the Taki-gumi. Hiroshi was too strong for you to throw out, as you did your other brother Joji. Hiroshi was strong of will and popular among the lieutenants. Hiroshi would have controlled the future of the Taki-gumi had he lived. He would have continued the family in the manner Wataro had wanted. Therefore Hiroshi had to be eliminated."

"My brother is dead," Masashi said quickly. "What matter the method of his demise?"

"It is where the bloodstains dry that concerns me."

"That is quite amusing," Masashi said, not in the least bit amused, "considering what you do for a living."

"I do nothing for a living," Zero said enigmatically. "Because I am not alive.

Not now. Not since your ascension. Not since you took from me that which is most precious."

The shadowed figure turned partially away from Masashi. "Once," Zero continued, "I was an extension of the will of Wataro Taki. Wataro was a great man. He used the Yakuza as no one else had. Yes, he made enormous profits from illegal activities. But he never preyed on the weak and the helpless as other oyabun do as a matter of course. And he gave back much of his profits to the needy in communities throughout Tokyo. He believed in the common man, and he did all in his considerable power to help those people.

"That was why he refused your request for the Taki-gumi to get involved in drugs. Drugs are a destroyer of life. Wataro loved life too much."

"I am tired of hearing what a great man my father was," Masashi said. "He is dead, and I am oyabun now. I will show everyone who so reveres the G.o.d Wataro Taki what the true meaning of greatness is. He turned his back on the enormous profits the drug trade-and only the drug trade-would bring in. Now I am making these profits a reality. Soon the Taki-gumi will be wealthy beyond the imaginings of even the G.o.d my father, Wataro Taki.

"I am preparing to lead all of j.a.pan into a new era, so that every human being on earth will at last turn his face toward the Land of the Rising Sun."

"You're mad," Zero said. "You are but the head of a criminal family."

"You insignificant insect!" Masashi sneered. "How little you know of the vast reserves of wealth and influence I am even now ama.s.sing!"

"You'll bring ultimate destruction to the one thing that meant more than anything else to your father: the Taki-gumi."