"Nakaguchi." He swiveled the chair to face them. "And Bwaatu. Van Dieman said that you belonged to the Asian."
"I am loyal to the Circle," Bwaatu protested. "Van Dieman is a font of lies. Having fallen under your sway, he no longer walks the true Path."
Bwaatu's skin was as dark as Quetzal's own, but there the resemblance ended. Bwaatu was a pawn. Quetzal gave his attention to Nakaguchi.
"I hadn't expected you to have the skill to find me."
"A subcutaneous transmitter," the Asian said. "It was placed beneath your skin during one of the medical examinations."
"Ah, that. I was wondering what its purpose was."
"You knew about it?"
"Of course. How could I not know that you had placed something within me? For truth, you do not understand the measure of difference between me and all you have known."
"And you fail to understand the nature of the age into which you have come," the Asian retorted. "I could as easily have had a bomb implanted. Perhaps I should have."
"It would have availed you nothing. I would have recognized the threat and countered it."
"You did not counter the threat of the tracer."
"It was no threat."
"That's where you are wrong, Quetzal."
Quetzal did not care for the Asian's familiarity; he understood what motivated it too well. "I see no threat."
"No?" Nakaguchi reached under his jacket with his left hand and withdrew a small black pistol.
The time had come to end the farce.
"By your vows, I bind you," Quetzal said, the command of Art in his voice. "By your oaths, I still your hand. The Circle encompasses you. The Circle binds you. Once, twice, and thrice, you are bound. Your bodies are as stone. Move not."
Nakaguchi and Bwaatu struggled, internally as well as externally, but they were bound. As they realized their situation, their struggles ceased. Bwaatu's eyes were wide with the knowledge of what happens to the faithful who lose their faith. Nakaguchi remained defiant.
"You should have bound our tongues as well," the Asian said. "Tasukeru!"
The Asian's shout for assistance brought two men to the door. Soldiers. They wore the armor of the modern age, ballistic corselets and dark-visored helmets of composite plastics. Each man had a military grade assault rifle pointed at Quetzal; he felt the touch of their laser sights upon his chest.
"They are neither followers nor members of the Circle," Nakaguchi told him. "They have protections. You will not bind them easily, and before you succeed, you will be dead."
"So you think to kill me."
"You are too dangerous."
"In that, you are correct." But, unlike Nakaguchi, not always in the obvious ways. "Should you succeed in killing me, who will open the Path? None among the followers, yourself included, has the knowledge or the skill or the power."
"There are others still waiting to wake."
The Asian was confident despite his magical bonds. Overconfident. "You may find them less pleasant than I."
"At this point, I see no other alternative. I think that one among them will better understand the problems we face. In the future, the education will be better structured to render a more tractable mage. I will not make the same mistake twice. You've come to the end of your long road, Quetzal."
"In that, you are mistaken."
Nakaguchi sensed something of the shift in his position. His voice sharp, he asked, "What do you mean?"
"Kurita," was all Quetzal felt the need to say.
The security man had arrived undetected. He struck mercilessly.
The first soldier received Kurita's foot in his back. He slammed into one of the tables, doubling over. The second reacted, but too slowly. As he turned, Kurita swept away the muzzle of his weapon with one hand and slammed the other against the man's chest. The blow stunned him. Kurita knocked the soldier's feet from under him, knelt, and drove three rapid blows into his chest. The soldier lay near death; Quetzal could sense the irregular beat of his heart.
Kurita turned his attention to the first soldier. The man was still dazed from his collision with the furniture. He offered almost no resistance as Kurita threw him to the floor and dealt with him as he had with the other.
But with Quetzal's attention focused on his servant's display of martial prowess, Nakaguchi had taken his chance and slipped free of the mystic bonds, proving himself stronger than Quetzal had given him credit for. He proved himself stupider at the same time; he turned to face Kurita.
"Kurita," Quetzal said warningly.
The security man looked up and immediately started for his former master.
Nakaguchi didn't give him a chance. He fired his weapon, shooting Kurita in the gut.
Bad choice or bad aim? Nakaguchi was not using his primary arm, so it could conceivably have been the latter. He should have known better.
Kurita was made of stern stuff, stern enough to finish Nakaguchi even after such a wound. Even so, Quetzal extended strength to his servant. He had underestimated Nakaguchi once already tonight; he was not about to do so again.
Nakaguchi fired again. Kurita took the shot and kept coming. Panicking, Nakaguchi fired three shots in quick succession. Like a fool, he continued to target the torso. One of his shots missed all the same.
Kurita began to weave, but came on.
Finally, Nakaguchi raised his aim. Unfortunately for him, his shot missed. Kurita was nearly close enough to launch a kick, and shifted his weight to do so.
Nakaguchi's next shot blew away Kurita's jaw. The following shot entered his left eye.
There was no more that Quetzal could do to keep the man moving.
Kurita collapsed at Nakaguchi's feet.
Nakaguchi's shoulders slumped in relief. He took a deep breath before turning to point the gun at Quetzal.
"Your turn," he said, and pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
He looked down to see what Quetzal had already seen. The slide of his semi-automatic pistol was cocked back; there were no more shells in the clip. Nakaguchi had been too rattled to notice that he had expended all of his ammunition.
Quetzal laughed at him.
"Not my turn." He stood and stepped up to the Asian, taking him by the throat. "Yours."
"You can't," Nakaguchi protested. "I am a follower of the Path!"
"Ever faithful?"
"I bow before the Wyrm."
"For which you expect reward?"
The goggle-eyed Asian tried to nod.
"Fool! I know you. You never understood me or your place. Your protection was never more than what I wished to grant."
Quetzal drank Nakaguchi's life and let the husk fall to the floor.
Bwaatu, the pawn, had remained bound through the whole vignette. He found his voice at the last and used it to beg for mercy as Quetzal drained him. He took the soldiers, too. This situation had been dealt with; it was time to get on to important things.
CHAPTER
24
"Nakaguchi's dead," Hagen said.
There was no hint of emotion in the dwarf's voice, no trace of victory in his face that Pamela could see. She allowed herself a brief smile. And why not? She was free of the kansayaku and his interference at last. However, it was not yet time to celebrate; his demise probably only meant a change in her problems, not the end of them. "And the creature?"
"Still free."
And still one of her problems. "The transmitter?"
"Dead as Nakaguchi."
"Was the thing any more discreet than when it left Set-tawego?"
"Considerably. It made no public display of its power. However, we do have five corpses."
"Five?"
"It appears that Kurita was present for the confrontation."
One less problem. "What happened?"
"It appears that Nakaguchi gunned down his former security chief. Quetzal killed the others." Hagen shook his head. "The details are scanty. The damage control party from Relations is already working
with the police. Given the location— not a Keiretsu property—and the clear evidence of hostility between two Keiretsu members we have the basis for a plausible story of intercorporation rivalry and subversion. It seems that Mr. Kurita was seduced by an unknown rival corporation and tasked with eliminating his former master. He sought to poison Mr. Nakaguchi; the others died to conceal the specific target. Unfortunately for Kurita, Nakaguchi did not die until he had taken his revenge." Hagen shrugged. "It's not an airtight story, but it should be sufficient. We may get some tabloid exposure, but it looks as if we will be able to keep Special Investigations out of it."
Hagen's arrangement of the cover-up was commendable, but he had taken a lot for granted. He should have told her of the strategy earlier. This was too delicate a situation for her not to know exactly what was happening when it was happening. Most likely she would have proceeded as he had, but perhaps not. The whole mess surrounding Quetzal had alerted her that her previous course of action might no longer be valid. It might be time for new solutions.
"Perhaps we should not keep the police out of it. We could let them deal with the monster."
Hagen looked at her sternly. "That would not be wise."
Once, she would have agreed wholeheartedly. Now, she wanted to hear his reasons. "Explain."
"Firstly, they would learn of Quetzal's nature if they deal with it. I cannot believe that someone among the police has not already starting linking together some of Quetzal's other killings. If nothing else, they would surely recognize that Nakaguchi and the others did not die of poison and become suspicious.
"Secondly, they would learn of Mitsutomo's role in unleashing the monster. The tabloid publicity for a sensational multiple murder is unfortunate; the revelation that the Keiretsu has unearthed and unleashed a monster would be disastrous."
"But it wasn't the Keiretsu who unleashed the monster; it was Nakaguchi."
"That would be difficult to prove. Even if it is established, there would be those who would not believe the Keiretsu was not responsible."
"There are always those ready to believe the worst about Mitsutomo, or any corporation, for that matter. We have dealt successfully with their kind in the past."
"Times are changing."
"Indeed they are, Mr. Hagen. New times demand new solutions. I find myself wondering about your approach to this problem, noting—as I must—the order in which you state your objections to involving the police. You do not place the health of the Keiretsu first in your thinking."
Hagen sat back, eyes narrowing as he looked at her. She had just changed the focus of their conversation. She let him have some time to consider the implications. She wanted to see which way he would jump.
At length he said, "Ms. Martinez, you already know that my primary loyalties lie elsewhere. I hope you understand that this does not make me, in any way, stand in opposition to the Keiretsu and its interests in this matter. Your Charybdis Project has had admirable success in confining and suppressing the instrusions of things unnatural. I see no reasons to alter the policies that you have endorsed, and many reasons to maintain them. This is not the time to go public; publicity would only inhibit the further success of Charybdis."
"Nakaguchi has already altered Charybdis," she pointed out.
"Nakaguchi is gone. You are in charge again."
"Exactly, Mr. Hagen."
He met her gaze. "I see."
"I hope so, Mr. Hagen."
"What is it you wish done?"
"I believe that we need to cut our losses. We need to minimize the Keiretsu's exposure in this affair, but the monster must be eliminated. Given the proper spin on the backstory, I believe we can disassociate the Keiretsu from responsibility for the monster and dump this problem on the police."
"If that is the way you wish to deal with it, I cannot stop you."
"That is the way I wish to deal with it, Mr. Hagen." Hagen nodded slowly. "In that case, I have a suggestion that may minimize the damage."
She liked this dwarf much better than Sorli. He was more manageable. She listened with interest to his suggestion.
Charley broke his usual pattern of reading his morning E-inail by going straight to the anonymous transmitters. He'd had a feeling he'd have one from Caspar waiting, and he was right.
>>21.10.19 * 13.02.13.79 * xxxxx.xxx
log #1019.49
TO: GordonC@NECPOLNET*0004.13.00*874334
FROM:
RE: Modus 112.
MESSAGE:
Add crime file 33*10!8*F103
He asked the computer to pull the file and got, "Stored as preliminary report only."
"Pull it anyway," he ordered. Being a detective had some privileges; when he was a street cop, he would have had to wait until the final was filed.
He added the file to the 112 dossier, scanning it as it went through on fast feed. One of the flashing datapics caught his eye. He froze the scan and backed it up. The morgue pic showed a Japanese who had died shit-faced scared. There was something about the guy that was familiar, but from where?
The prelim listed the guy's name as Ryota Nakaguchi and his carp as Mitsutomo. He was from the home office according to the lapel pin listed in the property section of the prelim. The report said he was a junior level exec, but that didn't seem right.
Charley scanned the property list more closely. All quality stuff, expensive stuff. Too fancy for a junior suit. Nakaguchi wasn't what the prelim said he was.
How come the investigating officers hadn't caught that?
While Charley was pondering that, Manny came into the cubicle they shared. He made a sour face at his empty coffee mug. "You're slacking off, Gordon."
"Johnston didn't have the pot on when I got here," Charley lied. He was trying to remember where he'd seen Nakaguchi's face before, and didn't want to argue about coffee.
"Sure, blame your sins on someone else. You want some?"
"Okay." What he wanted was to know who Nakaguchi really was.
As Manny left, Charley's memory flashed him a vision of Nakaguchi's face—not hardened into a rictus of fear, but stony and self-important. Same suit, same pin. There was a Mitsutomo logo behind his head.
That logo was in the lobby of the Settawego Building, and Nakaguchi had been the guy who'd come out of the elevator behind Pamela Martinez the day that Caspar had sent Charley to the Settawego Building. The late Mr. Nakaguchi was not a junior suit at all, if he ranked the head of Mitsutomo NAG.
So who was he?
A simple request to Mitsutomo public relations got him an answer that fit Nakaguchi's position in that elevator. According to public record, Ryota Nakaguchi was a kansayaku, an auditor, currently on assignment to Mitsutomo North American Group. Kansayaku was a fancy Nihongo name for a corporate hatchet man. Not a junior position at all.
Heart failure, huh? Nakaguchi was the kind of guy who gave heart attacks.
Either the corp PR hacks had gotten overconfident or Charley had managed to slip in before they'd finished painting over the stain.
Manny brought the coffee and Charley did the usual chatty partner things, but his mind was on Nakaguchi, his connection to Modus 112, and the kansayaku's sudden death. "Hey, Manny, you know anybody down in thirty-three?"
"Thirty-three?" Manny had to think about it. "Yeah. I know somebody down there."
"Put me onto him, will you?"
"You're not gonna get us in trouble again?"
"Nah. I just got a question on a report from down there."
"What's up?"
"Tell you if it turns out to be anything."
Manny's somebody was able to put Charley onto somebody else who knew somebody else who got Ramierez onto the line. Ramierez was investigating officer on 33*1018*F103. He wasn't happy to find out that Charley was from SIU.
"What do you want, Mr. Spook? Ain't no need for ya to come messing around in this."
Charley tried to keep it friendly. "I just read your prelim and I thought it looked kind of odd, you know. Fo
ur heart cases and not a one over forty."
"Look, this ain't none of your business."
"Sounds pretty special to me."
"We got it covered."
One more try. "I just thought you might need some help."
Ramierez's face scrunched together like he'd just been told his wife was screwing around. "How much ya want?"
Now the misidentification of Nakaguchi made sense; there was a cover-up in progress. "Look, I was just wondering if there might be a connection between this multiple and something I'm working on. I'm not looking for a piece of anything that might be floating around. Just trying to do some police work."
"We ain't got nothing spooky here, got it? We got us a bunch of suits been playing rough with each other and too dumb to do it on their own turf. Corp wants it shut up, is all. There's not a lot in this, so don't get greedy."
Charley wasn't looking for a piece of the hush money. "Forget it."
Ramierez got suspicious. "What's your angle, Gordon? I swear, if you're with Internal Affairs, I'll eat your guts for supper."
"Relax, Ramierez. I'm not LA, and I'm not doing them a favor. I'm just doing my job. Do me a favor and send me a copy of the final report."
"Pull it yourself," Ramierez said, and cut the connection.
Fine. Charley set the computer to pull a copy.
Corp cover-up, huh? Made sense for a junior involved in some messy stuff, but Mr. Junior Suit Nakaguchi wasn't really a junior. There had to be more to this than a simple corp shadow affair.
He wondered what Pamela Martinez would have to say about her auditor turning up dead in District 33. Or was she the one arranging the cover-up?
The comp buzzed with an incoming call. He checked the caller ID. There was definitely something spooky going on, because the computer said that the caller was Pamela Martinez.
It was the sort of thing that could make a person believe in magic.
CHAPTER
25
A guy named David Beryle showed up, all worried and anxious, about an hour after the brawl with Quetzal. When Beryle first got out of the elevator John thought that he might be Dr. Spae's partner, like Holger Kun had been, but her greeting made it plain that she was involved with the guy. For a few awkward minutes, John was left standing there feeling more than a little embarrassed.
robert Charrette - Arthur 02 - A King Beneath the Mountain Page 30
