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Authors: Victor O'Reilly

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The first floor was a showroom displaying the latest electronic
products.
 
They ranged from
voice-activated rice cookers to HDTV — high definition television.
 
A constant stream of visitors came to gaze at
this Aladdin's cave of desirable technology.
 
In its way, the whole of the building was a showpiece for the scale and
scope of the group.

The twentieth floor housed the chairman's office and other facilities for
the board of directors.
 
It was also used
to demonstrate the group's expertise in state-of-the-art security products and
was, therefore, totally electronically secure.

Twenty-one men sat at a V-shaped conference table.
 
At the open end of the V, a multimedia wall
brought data onto the giant screens on demand.
 
A three-person secretariat from the confidential office of the chairman
manipulated the computer controls as instructed and performed such other
functions as were necessary.
 
Minutes
were kept in encrypted form then and there.
 
No other record of the meeting was kept and no member could take notes
or remove any records from the room.

The twenty-one men were the ruling council of the secret Gamma Society,
which, scattered throughout
Japan
though heavily concentrated in the capital, was over five thousand strong in
all.
 
Members were drawn only from those
in senior positions in the Japanese government, business, and academic
establishment — and then only after personal recommendations and lengthy
vetting.

Each of the twenty-one men in the guarded and sealed conference room wore
two lapel
pins, that
of his work affiliation and that
of the Gamma Society itself.
 
The gamma
pin was in the form of the Greek letter, and, in the few cases where it had
been inadvertently worn outside a meeting, had been associated with Gaia — the
environmental movement.
 
The Gamma pin
was actually an indirect way of referring to
giri
, ‘obligation.’
 
In this
case their
giri
related to their
obligations toward the well-being and health of Japanese society and in
particular toward the body politic.

The Gamma Society had been set up by a small but influential group who
had been concerned with the increasing power of the alliance of organized crime
and corrupt politics, in what was otherwise a most successful society in many
ways.
 
The founders had initially considered
combating the opposition publicly — for instance, by forming a new, clean
political party and lobbying for change in some of the structures.
 
They'd soon realized that the forces they
were up against were too strongly entrenched.
 
Head-on attacks would be fruitless and could indeed be
counterproductive.
 
Instead, they'd
decided to work completely behind the scenes and, in the main, through
others.
 
It had proved to be a fruitful
strategy.

Some of their more notable successes to date had come by applying the
principles of martial arts — in particular, the principle of using the strength
and momentum of an opponent to defeat
himself
.
 
The technique's secret lay in applying a
small amount of leverage at the right place and the right time.

The photograph of just such a lever was flashed up on the giant central
screen.
 
It was of a foreigner, a
gaijin
, a good-looking man with
steel-gray hair worn
en brosse
, and
gentle eyes in a strong, well-proportioned face.
 
He looked to be in his early forties, perhaps
younger.

The photo was captioned ‘Hugo Fitzduane.’

One of the
gathering
, using a laser pointer,
commenced the briefing.
 
The dossier was
extensive.

 

12

 

Fitzduane's
Island
,
Ireland

 

May 28

 

After a couple of months at Duncleeve, eating well, resting, exercising,
and enjoying the beauty of his island, Fitzduane was starting to feel human
again and ready for the next phase.
 
He
was looking forward to the arrival of his friend.

Kilmara flew in and landed on the new airstrip that Fitzduane had
arranged to have constructed down the center of the island.

The strip was short, but hard-surfaced and well-drained and entirely
adequate for both the aircraft the Ranger general was using and the new machine
that Fitzduane had purchased.
 
Both were
Pilatus Norman Britten Islanders, sturdy aerial workhorses capable of carrying
up to nine passengers or over a ton of cargo.

Fitzduane ushered Kilmara into a black-painted Hughes helicopter and they
took off immediately, as if leaving a hot landing zone.

"Sometimes it's useful having money," said Fitzduane over the
intercom.
 
"I got started on this on
my second week in the hospital.
 
Let me
give you the rationale and the grand tour.
 
As you'll see, I have made a few changes."

They flew over Fitzduane's castle.
 
Fitzduane pointed.
 
Kilmara could
clearly see the saucer shape on top of the gatehouse.

"I like the isolation here," Fitzduane continued, "but
this business has made me face up to the fact that being cut off from the world
has its downside.
 
You can do nothing
today without communications, so I put in a satellite dish and a slew of extra
lines.
 
We can now talk to anyone
anywhere in the world without fucking with the local exchange.
 
And we can transfer computer data the same
way, using high-speed modems.

"Next on the list was the requirement to get people and goods in and
out fast.
 
This machine and the Islander
now mean we can link up with
Dublin
in less than two hours.
 
In addition,
both aircraft are fitted with FLIR modules and other observation equipment and
can retransmit that information in real time to the ground."

The helicopter looped around Duncleeve.
 
Kilmara looked at the FLIR screen as instructed.
 
He could just make out a series of metal
posts well spaced apart.

"Microwave fencing, TV cameras, and other similar goodies,"
said Fitzduane.
 
"Surprisingly
affordable technology these days.
 
No system is foolproof, but the castle itself is now almost impossible
to approach undetected, and we have radar to keep an eye on the sky."

The pilot banked and flew out to sea and followed the coastline to the
sprawling Victorian Gothic castle that had been the school known as
Draker
College
.
 
When Kilmara had last seen it, it had been
boarded up.
 
Now the windows glistened
with fresh paint, the grounds had been tidied up, and there were cars parked in
the courtyard.
 
It, too, was surrounded
with microwave fencing and other detection equipment.

"You've had your beady eye on the island for training the Rangers
for some time," said Fitzduane.
 
"Fair enough.
 
You've got a deal.
 
I need
security and you need space.
 
You can
hang your hat in a wing of Draker and train to the seaward end of the
island."

"What about rent?" asked Kilmara, ever conscious of
budgets.

"Peppercorn — as long as you're running the Rangers.
 
The whole deal is cancellable at a month's
notice.
 
I get to keep any
improvements.
 
You guys have to make good
any damage.
 
Oh, yes — and the whole
island
gets
classified as a restricted military
area.
 
I want to do some building and I
don't want to get delayed by filing planning applications."

He spoke into his intercom, and the helicopter banked and headed low and
fast toward Duncleeve.
 
"We'll talk
later.
 
Our visitors are due soon."

They landed in the courtyard of the castle.
 
Shortly afterward, a Range Rover pulled up
from the airstrip and out stepped three Japanese.

The first was Yoshokawa.
 
The
second, a short, distinguished-looking man, was a stranger to Fitzduane.
 
The third visitor was an extremely attractive
woman.

The second man was introduced as Saburo Enoke, the Deputy
Superintendent-General of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, better known to his
men as the Spider.

The woman was a Miss Chifune Tanabu.
 
She was just presenting her card when the heavens opened and sheeted
rain poured down on the exposed group.
 
They fled inside.

 

*
         
*
         
*
         
*
         
*

 

The Great Hall had been equipped for the briefing.
 
Various audio-visual aids were in place.
 
Pinboards on wheeled stands lined one wall.

Outside, the skies had darkened and rain lashed against the long glass
wall.
 
Fitzduane suggested sliding shut
the
shoji
screens to keep out the
beautiful but depressing picture, but his visitors smiled and shook their
heads.

"We're used to the restricted landscape of an urban
environment," said Yoshokawa.
 
"The sight of the open sea is a rare pleasure — whatever the
weather."

The assembled group took their seats, and Yoshokawa addressed the
meeting.

"This is an exceptional gathering," he said, "
because
matters will be discussed here today which normally
would never be communicated between parties of such differing backgrounds.
 
National interests are involved, and no
nation wishes to air its flaws and deficiencies in public.
 
However, we are confident that we are dealing
with people we can trust and that we have a mutual interest.
 
I now defer to Enoke-
san
, the Deputy Superintendent-General."

The Spider stood up.
 
He spoke
excellent English with a strong American accent.
 
He spoke slowly, and in such a manner that it
was clear what he said was carefully considered.

"We have much to be proud of in
Japan
, but like every country, we
have situations and elements which are an embarrassment.
 
Naturally, we do not like to publicize those
negative elements.
 
Nonetheless, in this
case it is clear that there are advantages in cooperation.
 
It has taken us some time to reach this
conclusion.
 
I regret that it has taken
so long, and I can assure you all there that there will be no delays in the
future.
 
We are committed to see this
matter through to a successful conclusion.

"I will now give you back to General Kilmara.
 
He has been conducting the investigation here
and is
best
 
qualified
to present our mutual findings.
 
But
before I do" — he bowed deeply to Fitzduane — "I would like to
apologize on behalf of our countrymen for the injuries you have suffered,
Fitzduane-
san
.
 
Activities of this dissident minority are a
source of great embarrassment to us.
 
We
are deeply sorry."

Fitzduane, sitting at the head of the table, acknowledged the bow and
smiled.
 
Privately, he was getting
impatient.
 
He already knew some of the
pieces, but he wanted to know more.
 
Above all he wanted content, not platitudes.
 
He hoped his guests had flown twelve hours or
more for more than a few elegantly delivered words of apology.

Kilmara stood up.
 
"What I am
about to say is a distillation of five month's work by my unit, with
contributions from many different intelligence sources.
 
And I should add that the most beneficial
help has come from my friends in
Japan
.
 
For reasons that will be obvious, this is a
particularly sensitive investigation from their point of view.
 
Not just security issues are involved, but
also political matters at the highest level.
 
It is therefore vital that confidentiality be maintained."

Kilmara turned toward Fitzduane.

"You know that the attack on you and Boots was by Yaibo, and that
the second attack was also mounted by Yaibo, even though the actual assault
team were
members of IRAP.
 
We have now ascertained a definite link between the Hangman and Yaibo
going back over nearly a decade.
 
In-depth interrogation of Sasada confirmed that your killing was to be a
straightforward matter of revenge for the Hangman, and was expected to be
achieved without difficulty.

"Sasada," continued Kilmara, "was not supposed to be
directly involved with the hospital hit, but he exceeded his instructions.
 
He was an overzealous company man.
 
His conscientiousness may have been
ill-advised, but it has proved fortunate for us.
 
He has provided the first actual direct link
between Yaibo and the Namaka
keiretsu
.
 
The Namaka organization is headed by two
brothers, Kei and Fumio.
 
They have a
security chief called Kitano.
 
According
to our friend Sasada, Kitano issued the actual order to have you killed, Hugo —
but Kitano does nothing without the Namaka brothers' approval."

BOOK: Rules of the Hunt
13.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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