Kusanagi (23 page)

Kim looked at the chart of his stock. It was being destroyed. The stock price line tried to rise but it was as if a hammer was smashing down on it every time it raised its head. There had been a call from a big US investment bank. This must be something to do with them. He looked up the name of the individual attached to the number. It was one of the bank's top board members. Something was going on, something outside his knowledge and skills. Japanese bankers had been easy meat when he had lured them into lending him billions. They would give him all the money he wanted if it was backed by property. When they were in deep, they had no other option but to lend him more.

Americans were different: they lent you money, then destroyed you and took what you had created. They were predators like him. Predators needed to concentrate on feeding off the meek rather than turning on each other, he thought, but Americans didn't understand this.

He called.

Wolfsberg would do Jim any favour he asked. Jim was a phenomenon, the very thing that PhDs and Nobel Prize winners said couldn't exist. He was the guy who conclusively proved the markets weren't random. He was the kind of person you wanted to be indebted to you. The kid had worked for him once. Jim had made his name at his bank, then gone off and done some crazy shit even Wolfsberg couldn't quite believe.

Wolfsberg hoped he could entice Jim to buy the bank one day. Then the sky would surely be the limit for him and the organisation. With Jim, the bank really could become the all-powerful global engine the conspiracy theorists thought it was, rather than a crazy gambler, bullying and cheating its way along. With Jim, they really would be able to call the shots. Using his foresight, they could go from ‘doomed to fail' to the world's power pivot.

‘Mr Kim, I'm so glad you called.'

‘Mr Wolfsberg, I have read a lot about you,' he lied.

‘I'm flattered. Thanks for calling me back.'

‘What can I do for you?'

‘Well, we've been watching your recent difficulties, so I thought I'd give you a call and see if we could be of any help.'

‘Thank you, but what do you have in mind?'

‘Our analysts reckon you could use a debt restructuring and maybe some new equity.'

‘I do not think that is necessary.'

‘You're probably right, but you know how it is. Perhaps you should have a back stop. We don't know what your debt covenants look like but we're thinking you might be in breach soon enough. You know how that can set off a meltdown, however unfair that might be.'

‘Our covenants are not linked to our stock price.'

‘That's great,' said Wolfsberg. ‘When can you take a meeting with a team of ours? I think we can help you with your stock price.'

Kim knew they were probably driving his price down to get their claws into him. It was a kind of extortion racket. He understood that well enough. His stock price had just gone vertically down. ‘You can come tomorrow?'

‘Tomorrow,' said Wolfsberg, hitting ‘return' on his keyboard. ‘Ten?'

Jim's Skype said, ‘Show them some love?' It was Wolfsberg.

Jim started buying. Kimcorp stock spiked three per cent.

Kim saw his stock shoot up. He grimaced and gripped the phone. ‘Very well.'

‘We look forward to doing business.'

‘Goodbye.'

Jim sat back, smiling. ‘We're in.'

Kim stood up from his desk and pulled open the second drawer on the right of his desk. He took out the pistol and headed to the lift. He would kill the woman and go into the cage. He touched the cufflinks on his shirt. Then his bad luck would end.

Yamamoto led them to the board room and they followed him. ‘Wow,' said Danny, on seeing Jim.

The four Americans stood up and began shaking hands.

‘Reece.'

‘Jim.'

‘Brandon.'

‘Jim.'

‘Casey.'

‘Jim.'

‘Major, right?' said Casey.

Jim laughed. ‘For about three hours once.'

Akira looked at Jim strangely. ‘Army major?'

‘It's a long story, Professor,' said Jim.

‘And I'm Danny. This is turning into an epic,' said Danny.

‘Sit down, guys,' said Jim. ‘First off, thanks for coming.'

Reece smiled up one side of his face, ‘No problem.' They hadn't had a choice. ‘Nice to be out of the dog house. What's the plan?'

Jim took the blueprint from James Dean Yamamoto and rolled it out on the table. Yamamoto pinned it down with four paperweights. ‘Colonel Jane Brown is held on the sixtieth floor of Kimcorp Tower.'

Akira put some photos down the side of the blueprint.

‘Is that like Major General Brown?' said Danny.

‘Yes,' said Jim.

‘Wow,' said Danny. ‘Like
the
Major General Brown, now Colonel?'

‘Probably,' said Jim.

‘Danny's her biggest fan,' said Brandon, shrugging.

‘Hell, yes,' said Danny. He smirked at Jim.

‘I take it we're busting her out,' said Casey.

‘Hell, yes,' said Danny again.

‘Yes,' said Jim.

‘How quiet has this got to be?' said Reece.

‘Don't let that worry you,' said Jim.

‘Chopper onto the roof, in through the windows,' suggested Casey.

‘Roof's covered in aerials. There's no good landing spot,' said Reece, studying the blueprints. ‘We could rappel down, then off the sides and go in through the windows.'

‘She's in a cage,” said Jim. “We have to be able to get into that. We've got a different plan. We're going in through the front door.'

‘We have an appointment with Kim,' said Akira. ‘We will take him, then he will release her and we will leave the way we came.'

‘Sounds good,' said Reece. ‘What do you need us for?'

‘In case it gets nasty,' said Jim.

‘I guess you think that's likely,' said Reece.

Jim nodded.

Reece grinned. ‘That's cool. It's been a while since we've had some real action.'

‘We've got to get you boys suited up,' said Jim. ‘Can't play investment bankers in jeans.'

‘Hey, hey,' said Danny.

‘Better be loose,' said Casey. ‘We're going to be packing a lot of iron.' He lifted his holdall onto the table and pulled out a machine pistol.

‘We'll buy you briefcases,' said Jim.

‘Big briefcases,' said Danny. ‘Giant ones.'

‘Yamamoto-san will organise the pick-up outside Kimcorp and we end up back here,' said Jim. ‘All the floor plans for the top five floors are there. It's either a simple in-and-out performance or we're going to get completely fucked.'

‘Oh, yeah,' said Casey, looking up from the plans. ‘That's how it always goes.'

Kim walked out of the lift, gun in hand. The woman was some kind of witch. As soon as she died the curse of bad luck would be lifted from him. His heels clicked on the tile flooring. He took the pistol off safety and squeezed the butt. A pistol had only one purpose: killing people. It was good at it. A life was ended with little more than a gesture.

A pointing movement, followed by a slight twitch of the index finger was all it took to destroy someone. A complex, amazing creature could be shattered beyond repair in a fraction of a second on his slight whim, a moment of beautiful poignancy. Without power someone was worthless and with power they were like a god. A pistol made anyone a god and right now, like a god, he was going to extinguish a life with a clap of thunder. But first he would torture and humiliate.

The gorilla looked up at him as he passed. A fine animal, he thought. When he found a bigger, better one, he would kill this one and put the new one in its place.

He scanned the tiger cage for the woman. Where was she? He walked quicker to be able to see the entire cage. It was empty. There were wires hanging over the lock mechanism, with what looked like a camera attached to them.

He swivelled around, holding out the gun, expecting the woman to jump at him. There was nowhere for her to hide. He spun back to the cage. It was still empty.

He shrieked in anger. How was it possible? He went to the wires. They were jammed between the door frame and the lock mechanism. How had she opened the lock with that? The cage door was on a spring so it would have closed once she had escaped, but what contraption had opened it?

He wrenched it out and stuffed it into his pocket. She must be hiding on the floor somewhere. There was no way out, apart from the lift. Maybe someone had rescued her while he slept – perhaps one of his men had stolen her for someone else.

He paced around the zoo, the animals shrieking. She must be there somewhere. She would not have been able to operate the lift without help.

His phone rang. It was his finance director. ‘Tokyo bank request an urgent meeting.'

‘When?'

‘Now.'

‘Tell them no.'

‘They are in the lobby waiting to see you and so are Kyoto Maritime Bank.'

‘
Soooooo
.' He put the pistol onto safety and shoved it into his pocket. ‘I will see them on the hour.'

Who had betrayed him and released the woman? It must have been someone very close, someone very close indeed. He would work out who and he would cut them to pieces from their toes upwards and from their fingers in.

Apart from the occasional click of the mouse, the room was silent. James Dean Yamamoto had taken the SEALs out to buy investment-bank outfits. Getting to a store that fitted outsized Americans needed the sort of local knowledge they didn't have. Yamamoto was in love with the American GIs – it was like reliving a dream from childhood. He was actually living an old Hollywood movie. He was sure this was a moment of fate, the final chapter of his life where destiny would enjoy the joke of a puppet dancing to its own ironic song. He was being honoured. He would jump into the abyss with abandon.

‘Got a minute, Professor?' Jim was getting up from Yamamoto's desk.

‘Yes, Evans-san,' said Akira, looking up from a magazine.

Jim lifted the Yasakani no Magatama from under his shirt. It always felt a little colder when he took it off. He handed it to Akira. ‘Time to get this back where it belongs. We don't want Kim to get his hands on it.'

Akira took it. ‘You cannot go without me,' he said, his eyes narrowing. ‘I will take this and be back in one hour, but you must promise to not leave without me.'

‘You'll probably just get in the way.'

‘And you?'

‘Yeah, me too, but I've got more reason than you to get in the line of fire.'

‘How so?' said Akira, slipping the necklace into his pocket.

Jim shrugged. ‘You know, love and all that.'

‘Honour is as powerful as love,' said Akira.

There was a knock at the door. It opened and a tall, beautiful girl walked into the room with a plastic tray. ‘
Mashi
,' she said, bowed and left.

Akira picked up a box. ‘So,' he said, ‘I have the correct calling card and therefore I must come.' He smiled. ‘You have not promised me yet.'

‘OK, I promise not to leave without you.'

‘I will be back at one thirty.'

Akira jumped out of the cab and walked quickly up the pristine alleyway. Freshly watered bowls of flowers hung from braces, and window boxes were filled with multicoloured pansies. The alleyway was a tidy confusion of personal things carefully left out. He stepped up to his parents' door and let himself in. ‘It's me, Akira,' he called.

‘Son,' called his father, ‘I'm here.' He was standing up. ‘I have tried to reach you for days. I was worried.'

Akira hugged him, something he had not done since he was a small child. ‘Where is Mother?'

‘Visiting her sisters.'

Akira took a step back. ‘Father, I have a favour to ask and a great burden for you to bear.'

‘What is it?'

Akira took the necklace from his pocket. ‘This is Yasakani no Magatama. It has been lost for several hundred years but I have recovered it.' He passed it to his father.

The old man looked down at the necklace, glowing green and gold in his hand. It felt hot in his palm like a bowl of miso soup. ‘What must I do?' he said.

‘You must return it to the Emperor and only to him. If it is known you have it, you will most likely be killed. You must take it immediately.'

‘Son, you bring glory to your family and to your father.'

Akira bowed. ‘I must leave immediately, Father.'

His father bowed. As he stood up he felt as if his bent back had straightened a little. He saw his son clearly. ‘Goodbye, Akira.'

Jim was flat-lining Kimcorp's stock, holding it in a range limit to the upside. Every time the stock rose and hit a certain price he sold it on at that price. The share hit this ceiling, and fell back.

Pretty soon the buyers would give up hope and sell out, and he would buy the shares back on the fall. He could sense traders coming and going, throwing their money at the stock in the hope that it had hit its bottom. He could tell by the size and speed of the orders how much they had to play with and he could swat them like flies.

Kimcorp had been worth five billion dollars when his campaign had started and it was now worth eight hundred million. For all the bucking of the market, he was only losing fifty million dollars and hardly short of Kimcorp stock at all. If he had been playing the game for money he would have given the stock one last terrifying downdraught and filled his boots with it on the final ‘puke' as major shareholders baled out in a last panic. Then he would have left the stock alone and it would have risen again to its correct price, netting him a very fat profit indeed. But this wasn't for money: he would blow all his billions if that would get Jane out. The trading was just a means to an end.

‘Hey, Major, put this on.' Something clumped onto the desk. It was a pistol holster.

Jim looked up to see Danny beside him. ‘You look good in a five-thousand-dollar suit,' he said.

‘No way, man,' said Danny. ‘This is a five-hundred-dollar suit – I just look like five thousand in it.'

Jim struggled with the holster, trying to keep his eye on the charts. Danny adjusted it roughly on his shoulder and pulled the strap up to tighten it.

‘Got to get my trading bots all lined up while we're gone. As soon as I take my boot off this wanker's neck, his stock price is going to pop up.' He glanced at the holster under his arm. It looked flash.

‘Time to go,' said Casey, walking in carrying a briefcase.

Jim stood. ‘Let's rock.'

Danny grinned knowingly at Casey. ‘Don't forget your attaché case.'

Jim picked it up. ‘Don't expect me to use this shit properly,' he said.

‘Just don't bleed on us if we have to carry you out.'

‘It's blue blood, mate,' said Jim. ‘You won't notice it on your jackets.'

Kim had sat and watched the meeting. He had not been called upon to say anything. His minions had done the talking and the banks the listening. Toyoda presented well. He had all the figures to hand and in his head, and when he was questioned, he could slice and dice them all ways, so that however they rebuilt the numbers, they totalled up correctly and agreed.

The figures were, however, all lies, accounting fictions like intangibles, amortisations, depreciations and accruals making a mockery of the real picture. He was almost out of cash to pay the bills and they would lend him more cash to pay them the very interest he was about to be unable to afford. They did this on the basis of numbers that had no meaning in the real world and no connection with cash. It would be funny if it were not so vital.

If he gave his finance director all of his company's intangible assets, Toyoda could no more buy a bowl of rice than a homeless man living in a cardboard box by Tokyo station. Yet Kimcorp would borrow hundreds of millions against those empty assets. Without the lies of legitimate accountancy, his business would not have been built, but without the lies of illegitimate accountancy, it would not be standing.

Toyoda was so accomplished, he reflected. Could he be the traitor in his midst? He listened to the accountant bat back the questions from the banks. With Kim gone, Toyoda would surely be the boss of Kimcorp. Could Kim operate without him as CFO? He would think carefully about Toyoda. Once the situation had stabilised he would have a better idea of who the traitor was.