Victor O'Reilly - Rules of The Hunt

As they drove north toward Ikeburo and SunshineCity, Fitzduane reflected on the rise of the Namakas and tried to imagine what bombed-out postwar Tokyo must have been like for a pair of near-starving teenagers whose father had just been executed.

He almost felt sympathy for the Namakas, until he remembered the slicing of the bullet as it drew blood from his little son's head.

He as acutely conscious of Chifune's physical presence beside him on the rear seat, quiet and demure as befitted her interpreter role.

The NamakaTower

SunshineCity, Tokyo, Japan

Fumio Namaka leaned back in his chair and steepled his hands in thought.

The gaijin Fitzduane was due shortly, and he wanted to satisfy himself that he had considered and provided for all the issues involved.

The news from North Korea had been extremely encouraging. What had seemed like a wild card now looked like it was turning into a financial windfall, and just at the right time. It would tip the balance. Namaka Industries would survive. Fumio had been very much against the idea of supplying the North Koreans with nuclear plants, but Kei had argued strongly in favor and he had turned out to be right. Frankly, Kei's investment enthusiasms rarely worked out, but the North Korea nuclear project was proving to be a notable exception.

It was at last becoming clear who was behind the Hodama killings and the financial onslaught on the Namaka's empire. A vast counterintelligence exercise and the calling-in of favors at the highest government, civil service, and corporate levels had uncovered a trial that had led in the end to the Katsuda- gumi. It was a much-feared and respected organization, the second-largest yakuza gang in Japan, but as to why the Katsuda people were mounting such a vicious and deadly campaign against the Namakas was a complete mystery. Perhaps they were merely fronting for some other faction. It was hard to be certain. Attempts to make direct contact through a highly respected and neutral intermediary had been rebuffed.

Still, whether they were the principals or not, the Katsuda- gumi were certainly heavily involved and there was now a specific opponent to fight. This was hugely encouraging. The Namakas had been in such wars before and had always emerged triumphant. And recently, there were signs that the tide was beginning to turn in the Namaka's favor.

The Namaka share prices were starting to perform in line with the market again. Contacts who had been mysteriously unavailable were starting to return calls and pay their respects. Damage control to compensate for the loss of the Hodama patronage was working.

It had been a matter of rearranging certain key elements in the extensive Namaka network of influence, and that had taken time, but now the new arrangements were in place and the Namakas were on the offensive.

The Katsuda- gumi would soon learn the reality of true power. Shortly, a Yaibo killing team would commence a campaign of selective assassination against the Katsuda- gumi, and other initiatives would be implemented. Even their hideous leader, rarely seen by any outsider, would find himself vulnerable.

The Namaka brothers were old hands at fighting this kind of gang warfare. And they would have the tacit support of the police, once this Hodama business was put aside.

The police were rarely much concerned about the yakuza being cut down to size, providing ordinary citizens were not harmed. The yakuza were tolerated because some organization was needed – even in crime – but the police were still their enemies. In contrast, the Namakas headed a powerful industrial group and had friends in the highest places.

Kitano's abuse of authority had been extremely convenient. It was outrageous that he should have mounted an assassination attempt on this gaijin Fitzduane without getting permission, but fortunately all avenues led to and stopped at him. He was a perfect scapegoat, not just for the Fitzduane attacks, but also for whatever else the Namakas were suspected of – even Hodama. He had been found out to be a rogue element. A single corrupt employee had scant significance in the scheme of things.

The Namakas were, of course, above such behavior. Their bun – the rights pertaining to their station in life – made this clear by implication. A rank-and-file yakuza or a junior employee might be made subject to special police interrogation, but those at the level of the Namakas were, for all practical purposes, immune. Even the much-feared Tokyo Prosecutor's Office treated those at the highest level with respect. This was Japan, the supreme hierarchical society. Rank was everything.

Ironically, it did not matter whether anyone believed Kitano had acted independently or not. The important thing was that it was a story which could save face all round. The tatemae was what was important. Fumio was reminded of the American phrase ‘plausible deniability.’

The gaijin Fitzduane remained a loose end. Left to himself, Fumio was all for leaving him alone and concentrating on more important issues. Three failed assassination attempts suggested he was an unusually hard man to kill and, really, they had satisfied their obligation to their dead associate by severely wounding the gaijin. Enough was enough.

Unfortunately, Kei – who combined a limited intellect with mule-like stubbornness – did not see things this way. He had taken their failure personally and was being extremely bullheaded about it. His pride was hurt, and he took Fitzduane's continued survival as an ongoing affront. He argued that there was more to the Irishman than they knew and that he was certainly an agent sent to secure the Namakas' downfall. Frankly, some of Kei's comments were excessive, but the result was straightforward enough. Kei Namaka wanted the gaijin, Fitzduane- san, dead, and if the hired help were not competent to do the job, he would carry out the task himself.

Fumio had pointed out that surveillance and informers had confirmed that the gaijin was under around-the-clock police protection, but his big brother had been adamant. He was going to kill Fitzduane and he would not be stopped. It was now a matter of giri. Reluctantly, Fumio had agreed, and had then applied his considerable brain to devising a method which would allow Kei his way without fear of discovery.

He had come up with a good plan, he thought. The gaijin 's own initiative – his desire to see the steel plant, as communicated by Yoshokawa- san, who had set up the meeting – would be turned against him. The plan had pleased Kei greatly. The gaijin would not just be killed, but he would literally evaporate.

Thrown inside a tempering oven set to its highest temperature, his body fluids – the bulk of a corpse – would soon boil away and the small residue would turn to gas. It was a scientific truth that matter could not be destroyed, but its substance could certainly be altered. A gaseous Fitzduane would not pose a problem, whatever it might do for global warming.

His telephone buzzed, and a respectful voice announced that the gaijin Fitzduane- san 's party had arrived at the security desk at the base of the NamakaTower. The call reminded Fumio to clear his desk. The meeting was to be in the conference room, but one could never be too careful. All was secure. After a final glance, he limped to the meeting.

After Chifune had introduced her gaijin employer at the first-floor reception desk, a uniformed OL came forward and bowed deeply toward Fitzduane and more moderately at Chifune.

She then spoke, and Chifune translated near-simultaneously. In fact, Chifune was so good at translation that Fitzduane realized it must have been part of her Koancho training. He wondered how many trade delegates admiring their attractive interpreter realized that they were under observation by the security services. Well, doubtless the CIA and God knows who else were doing the same thing at the other end.