The Fifth Profession (61 page)

“
Giri,
” Hailey muttered through swollen lips and broken teeth. “You gave your …”

“Word,” Taro said and stood. “So did I. A formal favor. An eternal obligation.” Taro restrained the knife in Savage's hand. “Obey it. Or you're worthless. You have no honor.”

Trembling, seething, sobbing, Savage gradually lowered the knife. “Something has to mean
something.
Get out of here! Now!” he told Hailey. “Before I change my mind. Because of you my friend is dead, you … !”

Hailey ran, clutching his broken face, yanking a panel open, disappearing, his footsteps dwindling.

“You did the proper thing,” Taro said.

“Then why do I feel like hell?”

“Because he might come after you.”

“Let him,” Savage said. “I'm better.”

“For a
gaijin,
you're a noble man.”

“But are you?” Savage spun. “Our business isn't finished. I refuse to believe that you weren't aware …”

“That Akira belonged to Japanese Intelligence?” The old man nodded. “That's correct.”

“And you
knew
what Shirai was trying to do! You
knew
that Akira and I were supposed to die!”

“For Japan.”

“
Giri,
” Savage said. “Thank God for
giri.
For the solemn promise I made you. If you allowed that bastard to leave, I swore I'd be eternally in your debt. Otherwise …”

“You'd try to kill me?” Taro chuckled.

“Yes.” Fueled by ultimate rage, Savage overcame his weakness, pressed a paralyzing nerve in Taro's neck, and tickled the point of his knife against Taro's jugular vein. ‘ ‘Your problem is you’ re arrogant. Even a
gaijin
can be …

“A worthy opponent. Savage-san, you have my respect.”

“And your word that there'll be no recriminations?
Giri?
”

“Yes.” Taro's face became more wizened. “
Giri.
Friendship. Loyalty. Obligation. What else is there to believe in?”

“Love.” Savage lowered the knife. “What did you do with Akira's body?”

“It was cremated. The urn with his ashes is in my room. But Japanese Intelligence can't know about his death. The investigation would be disastrous. To us all.”

“May I have them?” Savage asked.

“Akira's ashes?”

“Yes. If his interment must be a secret, Eko and I know what to do with them.”

Taro studied him.

And bowed.

FESTIVAL FOR THE DEAD

Before Akira had brought Savage and Rachel to Japan, as he'd explained the complexities of his divinely born nation, he'd referred to a summer ritual known as the Feast of Lanterns and otherwise called the Festival for the Dead. During three days, involving incense, prayers, and funereal meals, traditional Japanese obeyed the Shinto custom of revering— one might almost say worshiping—the dead.

Savage complied, though this was autumn, not summer. But he didn't think Akira would mind. After three days of scrupulous devotion, he and Rachel embraced each other in the garden at the rear of Akira's home.

Night surrounded them.

But a glow reflected off their faces.

For Savage had placed a lantern on the garden's pool. Throughout the afternoon, he'd drained water from the pool, removing the assassin's blood that tainted it. He'd refilled the pool and drained it.

And refilled it again.

And
drained
it again.

And cleaned it
again,
determined to purify it, to exorcise its desecration.

At last he'd been satisfied that the ritual would not be corrupted. He lit a match and set fire to the lantern's paper.

“God, I miss him,” Savage said. The flames reflected off his face.

“Yes,” Rachel said. “So do I.”

“His eyes were so sad.”

“Because he belonged in another time.”

“Commodore Perry's ‘black ships,’ “Savage said. “Akira was a samurai. He belonged in a time before samurais were outlawed. Before America corrupted Akira's nation. You know”—he turned to Rachel and kissed her—”before he died, he called me …”

Savage choked on emotion. He gagged on his tears.

“He called me … oh, Jesus …”

Rachel held him. “Tell me.”

“His friend.”

“And he
was
your friend,” Rachel said.

“But do you understand the effort, the sacrifice, it took him to say that? All his life, he'd hated Americans. Because of Hiroshima, Nagasaki. Yokohama Bay. Perry's ‘black ships.’ Akira belonged in another century. When Japan was pure.”

“It's always been pure,” Rachel said. “And it always will be. Because if Akira … if he's typical … this nation is great. Because it understands honor.”

“But he's dead.”

“Because of honor.”

Savage kissed her, the flames of the lantern blazing higher.

“What I wonder …”

“Is?”

“America. Our Civil War. We made a myth of the South before the war. The magnificent mansions. The dignity of the lifestyle.”

“Except for the slaves,” Rachel said.

“That's what I mean,” Savage said. “Myth. Sometimes, for
some
people, myth hides ugliness and becomes its own reality.”

“Like disinformation?”

“Like memory. But memory's a lie. Above all, Jesus, that's what I've learned.
Now
is what matters.”

The lantern flamed brighter. “Not love? Not the future?” Rachel asked.

“Don't I hope.”

“But not the past?”

“Akira would have
hated
the past,” Savage said. “The Tokugawa Shogunate. From everything I've learned, it was fascist. An oppressive system of control,
shogun
to
daimyo
to samurai to … Akira would have desperately craved the present.”

“And what do
you
crave?” Rachel asked.

“You.”

The lantern flared to its brightest. Sadly its flames diminished.

“In Greece, after we rescued you,” Savage said, “I asked Akira if we could be friends. … But he refused.”

“Because of his background. He was conditioned. And you were …”

“A
gaijin.
”

“But you love him,” Rachel said.

“Yes.”

“Should I be jealous?”

“No,” Savage said. “Our love was different.”

“Can I be a substitute?”

“No.” Savage straightened. “You're unique. I'll always worship you.”

“Always?”

“I know what you want to say.”

“Don't presume.” Rachel frowned.

“ ‘Abraham believed by virtue of the absurd.’ ”

Now Rachel smiled. “You did know.”

“So what are we going to do?” Savage asked. “Hailey didn't admit it, but your
husband
was a part of this.”

“What?” Rachel paled.

“Yes,” Savage said. “Akira and I. Both sent to Mykonos. Both sent to meet each other during your rescue. Japan for Japan. That's fine. But Japan needs oil. And that means ships. And I think your husband made a deal to guarantee those ships. That's why Akira and I were sent to Mykonos. Because your husband's estate was convenient, since he was involved in the conspiracy.”

“So he beat me and raped me for political reasons?”

“From everything I learned, I think he did it …”

“Oh,” Rachel said. She clutched him.

“Because he liked it. A bonus in the midst of business.”

“So …”

“I think …,” Savage said.

“What?”

“I might have to kill him. Otherwise,” Savage said, “he'll keep chasing us.”

Rachel shook her head in fury.

“What?” Savage asked.

“No more killing. Too much! Too damned much!”

“He's a very proud man.”

“So are
we
proud,” Rachel said.

“Then what's the answer?”

“You mentioned a beach near Cancun.”

“Where I'd like …”

“To make love to me?”

“In fact I'd like to do that right now.”

“In spite of your grief?” she asked.

“
Because
of it. In memory of … in celebration of … life. That's all we have. Not the past, not the future. My past, I discovered, was a lie. But I prefer the lie to the truth. And the future … ?”

“Faith.”

“And that's absurd.”

“And don't I love it.”

“And don't I love you,” Savage said.

The lantern's flare sank, extinguished by water.

“I'll remember you, Akira, your
kami
in the wind and the rain,” Savage said.

They turned and saw Eko, who bowed.

Savage and Rachel bowed as well.

And turned toward the carefully raked and groomed sand of the Zen Buddhist garden, which Akira's father had spent years arranging, and which Akira had persisting in attempting to perfect after his father's death.

Neither man had achieved his obsession.

But as Savage scanned the meticulous design that he'd labored to recreate after the assassins had despoiled it, he grinned with melancholy, sensing that his eyes were as sad as Akira's.

For Akira's ashes had been scattered.

And raked among the sand.

One with nature.

“I know … I'm sure,” Savage said, “he's at peace.”

“And what about us?” Rachel asked.

“Will you … ?”

“What?”

“Will you marry me?”

“Jesus, Savage, I'm
already
married, and the bastard's chasing me.”

“Trust me. We don't need a
legal
ceremony. Just a private one. You and me.”

“Right now?”

“Damned right.” He kissed her. “I promise to love, to honor and cherish you.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

“And a final promise.” He kissed her again.

“What's that?”

“To protect.”

“FAST-PACED … EXCITING AND HARD-HITTING.”

—Nelson DeMille, author of
The Lion's Game

From David Morrell, the bestselling author of
First Blood, Assumed Identity, Extreme Denial,
and
Burnt Sienna,
comes a spectacular thriller that takes the reader beyond the limits of suspense…

TWO MASTERS OF PROTECTION. ONE DESPERATE MISSION.

Savage is a former Navy SEAL and a state-of-the-art security specialist. Teaming up with him is Akira, Japan's most brilliant executive protector and a samurai master. Their mission: to rescue Rachel Stone, a beautiful American woman who faces destruction at the hands of her ruthless billionaire husband. Savage and Akira quickly realize they are trapped in a mission more far-reaching than saving one woman. For they are bound to each other by a set of horrifying memories, a terrifying past that never happened. And only together can they confront the nightmare. Yet when they do, an even more chilling scenario awaits them—one with the power to shatter not only their world but ours as well.

THE FIFTH PROFESSION

“A THRILLER FAN'S DREAM…EXCITING, INVOLVING, THOUGHT-PROVOKING.”

—Stephen King

“A MIND-BLOWING TALE OF INTRIGUE…FIRST CLASS.”

—Associated Press