“The love for power is what provoked it,” said Isaiah. “With power you get everything else. You get money, fame, sex, land, your own army. You decide who lives or dies. That’s why the psychos you just mentioned killed all those innocent people. They were doing away with the competition. They wanted as little interference as possible, so anyone who got their attention also got his head wrapped in a bag of hungry rats or was flayed to death or got locked up in an iron maiden. None of them even lasted long enough to confess their sins. If they had any. But the Inquisitors weren’t looking for confessions. They were looking for land and some spectacular headlines that would scare off the competition. And, of course, nobody touched the Rothschild lookalikes because their money financed half that murder in the first place. People who had faith in something beyond this world weren’t just a target to them. It was their greatest enemy. People having faith in something greater than this world is what truly enraged them. Those are people that can’t be controlled. Not even with death.”
“So what does that say about these people we’re dealing with?”
“Well, for one thing it says they’re the offspring of a perverted race of despots.” Glancing into the mirror, he added, “Yeah. I figured it’d come to this. But not so soon. We haven’t actually done anything but change cars.”
Amanda glanced backward between the seats.
“Don’t do that,” said Isaiah.
A white four-door car was following them.
Amanda asked quietly. “And now?”
“And now we’ll have to lose them in such a way that they think it was their fault.”
“How do we do that?”
“Play it by ear.” Isaiah glanced into the mirror again. “You always have to remember that this is their country. If these guys can’t keep up with us, they’ll call the local police. And if that’s not enough, they’ll call the Swiss police. And if that’s not enough they’ll call out the Swiss army. Any way you look at it, we’re in a net. That’s why we have to make them think that they lost us by mistake. Otherwise, they’ll just close the net and we won’t even make it to the next hotel room.”
“Are these the guys who make people disappear?”
“Probably.”
“Are we ready for them?”
“The question is, are they ready for us?”
“Now I know why you keep your sword close.”
Relaxing strangely, as if he were accustomed to this, Isaiah casually replied, “That’s actually more of a habit. I’ve had the katana since I was six years old. I always find some way to keep it close. A guitar case. Luggage. A coat. I’ve thought of so many ways of concealing it I don’t even put any effort into it, anymore.”
“Deb was last year. Have you used it recently?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Are you staying in practice? It seems relevant right now.”
“More than I wish. Cutting people up is one surefire way to get in trouble with the law and that’s something I studiously avoid. And, interestingly enough, there’s no such thing as a concealed carry permit for a katana. You can get a concealed carry permit all day long for a gun, but not a knife or sword.”
“Why is that so interesting?”
“It’s interesting that the most dangerous weapons are the most protected ones. I guarantee you that if everyone had to fight with a sword, or with sticks and stones, there’d be a lot less fighting. Not that I like weapons. Fact is, I don’t. But if you have to fight, and in this world you have to fight way too often, then it’s wise to stay ready for it.” He released a deep breath. “I keep myself in shape not because I like training. Fact is, I don’t like it that much. I hate hitting the weights and running and watching what I eat and the rest of it. But it’s better than the alternative.”
Amanda’s face scrunched as she asked with what seemed to be genuine curiosity, “What’s the alternative?”
“The alternative is getting killed by a Sicario, a Jihadist, or some punk with a twenty-five-dollar Raven who wants to take your shoes. Or even being set on fire by gutless junkies at a college who don’t happen to love what you’re saying. If you want to see the power of prejudice, try reasoning with some punk wearing a mask.”
Amanda laughed out loud. “I happen to agree with you. But I’d add something.”
“What’s that?”
“I would say that the people who complain constantly about violence are the ones who use it the most. But that doesn’t explain why you never leave your sword behind. Frankly, I think it gives you a sense of security. Or you’re just flat-out superstitious.”
“Well, it did get me out of Vietnam. It saved my life from some animals, human and otherwise, so I guess I am a little superstitious. And it did have a part in convincing Miruko to take me into his home, and train me, and feed me, and raise me with a classical education. I guess I consider it to be something like a good luck charm. Or a friend. Take your pick. It doesn’t matter. Fact is, we’ve always been together and I guess I’m uncomfortable without it.”
“I understand,” Amanda said with a shrug, “I’m actually like that with a lot of things. Always have been. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. To be honest, I’ve been using the same hairbrush since I was a kid. I consider it a good luck charm. I even make sure I always tie my shoes the exact same way, left foot first. And there’s the way I pack my purse, or luggage. The way I answer the door or study a person’s body language. I think everybody has superstitions even if they don’t admit it to themselves.”
“Why are you hung up on body language?”
“Because I think everybody lies.”
Isaiah laughed. “I have to agree.” He paused. “So what does my body language tell you?”
“Oh, you’re easy. Your body language says that you’re very confident, but you make a conscious and consistent effort not to show it. It says that you truly do have nerves of steel.” She sighed. “You look a person in the eye. You don’t blink and you don’t look away. You don’t sweat. You don’t slouch. You don’t flinch. You keep your head up when you talk or walk or do anything else. But your machine-like control hints that you do have a temper and I think it scares you. That’s why you keep yourself under such a tight rein. You’re afraid that if you lose your temper, you’ll kill somebody. And you’re either not scared of dying or you just don’t give a damn.” She didn’t glance back as she asked, “You’re not gonna let these goons follow us all the way to town, are you?”
“No,” Isaiah frowned, “I’m gonna get a better look at them.”
“How’re we gonna do that?”
“I remember seeing a little store that ought to be open for breakfast. We’ll stop there. See if they follow. They’ll have to get out of the car to make it look legitimate.”
“That’s not bad,” Amanda muttered, “for someone who doesn’t plan.”
Isaiah smiled, “I’m quick on my feet.”
“Well, you’ve been pretty resourceful so far. But what if they have guns? And what if they really are the guys who make people disappear?”
“Now why would they make us disappear?” Isaiah glanced over. “All you did was ask Blanchard a few harmless questions, right?”
“Because he was lying to my face and he knows that I know it.”
“You got all that from his body language?”
“As a matter of fact, I did. Just like I could tell that you weren’t listening to him at all. You were studying his desk, his shelves, what you could see of the compound, the doors, the fence. I don’t think you heard a word he said.”
“I didn’t need to listen to him when I saw a quotation framed on his wall.”
“A picture told you he was lying?” Amanda stared. “How does that work?”
Isaiah sighed, “When someone keeps a quote that reads, ‘Anything is better than lies and deceit,’ I don’t need
to hear what he’s got to say. It’s a quote that seems harmless unless you know the story behind it.”
“What’s the story?”
“It’s from Anna Karenina. Tolstoy.”
“And that’s important because …?”
“Because Anna Karenina kills herself, in the end, because she’s been lied to so horribly.”
“Oh, my God,” Amanda said quietly. “How? Why?”
“She throws herself under a train after her husband has betrayed her. And her husband, on balance, wins out. His lies save him like they save most sociopaths. So that picture wasn’t hung to condemn lies. It’s to remind Blanchard that lies can save you if you don’t care about who you destroy.”
Amanda blinked slowly, staring out the windshield. “Well, I can tell you from personal experience that lies can kill you in a hundred ways. They can kill you emotionally and mentally, but they can also kill you physically. Betrayal is like death. And logic sure doesn’t help you overcome it, so anybody who keeps such a horrible quote like that on their wall is some kind of monster.” A pause. “You can tell how much a person hates you by how much they lie to you.”
Silent, Isaiah nodded.
“I say we stick with instincts,” Amanda said, turning her face to the window. “So what do your instincts tell you they’re planning to do?”
Isaiah hesitated. “If you won’t find it too alarming, honey, I think you’re right.”
“Meaning?”
“I think they’re planning to kill us.”
A small mom-and-pop store that was obviously not on the tourist list of things to do loomed on the right. Isaiah pulled smoothly into a space just to the right of the front door. He reached out and lifted the Honjo Masamune from its place alongside the door and slid it under the left side of his coat. Then he looked calmly at Amanda, “Just do what I do. We’re just going to go inside and look around. This place is like a Cracker Barrel back home. There’s plenty to see, so just act casual. After all, we’re tourists.”
“Where will you be?”
“Close. But I’ll stay near the window to make sure they don’t come near the car. You just browse. Check out the wines.”
“How close will you be?”
“Twenty feet.”
“Is that close enough?”
“Yeah. Just don’t move when I move. I don’t want to hit you by mistake.”
“Got it.”
Isaiah opened the door.
The white car pulled in beside them.
***
Inside, the store was shockingly opulent if one had judged it from the dull and frozen exterior. What seemed like a barn from the road looked like a Winter Wonderland inside with multitudinous wines of every varietal and size lining the walls.
The middle of the five-room log cabin-style shop was a collection of assorted foods, beverages, and tourist trinkets. Obviously, this was the local food outlet and breakfast stop so Amanda simply ordered bagels and coffee and began to stroll among the stand-up tables and wine racks, lifting one bottle and another.
Isaiah had taken a stand at the front of the store, apparently amazed at a dogsled with a well-worn leather harness. He asked the old clerk a few questions without removing his peripheral vision from either car.
After five minutes the clerk asked something in Swiss. Isaiah responded to her in German. “Probably,” she said in English.
Amanda was compelled to walk over and whisper, “What did you tell her?”
“She said she didn’t recognize the car and asked if we knew them. I said, no. Then I told her they were probably tourists and they’d be getting out in a minute.”
“How do you know they’ll be getting out?”
“Because we’re not leaving until they do.”
Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed and Amanda placed an armload of wine bottles on the counter, promising to pick out a few more. The old woman replied in fluent English, which surprised Amanda. But then she realized that you can’t rightly operate a tourist-oriented wine store in Switzerland without speaking English.
A single door opened on the car and a man wearing a blue parka and cap stepped outside. He climbed the steps carefully and entered with a polite greeting. Then he began walking along the racks.
Isaiah never turned or glanced from the sled. His eyes were not fixed on the white car, but Amanda knew he was watching. Unconsciously she had eased away from the stranger but then realized she looked suspicious avoiding him and returned to the shelves, seemingly oblivious to his presence. With all the control she could muster she lifted and studied one label after another. And never had her knowledge of body language been more hypersensitive than it was in the moment.
The stranger’s gestures were casual and unhurried, the masquerade of a connoisseur because his eyes didn’t read the labels, so he wasn’t here for the wine.
“Look at this!” Amanda said just loudly enough for the old woman to hear. “It’s one of the rarest red wines from Rioja! Made from Tempranillo!” She turned. “How did you happen to get this Spanish wine? I’ve never seen a bottle in Switzerland.”
The old woman gestured, “Wine is my husband’s passion. We have traveled all over the world building our store, so we’ve been collecting wine for fifty-three years. Yes, if my husband were here he would give you a real tour. He is the expert your ‘experts’ talk to before they go on TV.”
“Oh, I wish he were here right now,” Amanda smiled and glanced at the front window where the dogsled rested.
“He will be here shortly,” she nodded.
Amanda turned to the front and her breath caught.
Isaiah was gone.
Amanda instantly took a step away from the stranger who was suddenly standing much too close for her; she smoothly rounded a counter to put something solid between them. Then a survival instinct prompted her to quickly cast a glance at the white car to confirm the second man’s location.
He was gone, as well.
***
Isaiah violently pushed the man into the building far outside view of the front window. He had approached the driver and asked if he was interested in wines. Then, when the man began to reply, Isaiah struck him across the chin with an elbow and dragged him out of view of the clerk.
In the struggle, the stranger reached into his coat but Isaiah was faster and grabbed a semiautomatic pistol from the man’s shoulder harness. Isaiah lifted the Glock ten millimeter to his face, laughing, “A Glock! A fourth generation ten millimeter with ten in the clip, one in the pipe. You like Austrian weapons, huh? Well, I never cared much for ’em, myself. They feel too much like a toy.”
“What the hell do you want?” the stranger muttered, expressing no fear. “You’re already in deep, pal. And, now, if you make a bonehead move against me or that idiot they teamed me up with, you’ll have the entire Swiss army down on you and the little lady. It’s already morning, but you won’t live to see sunrise.”
“Neither will you,” Isaiah stated. “So what’s the plan?”
“To tell that bitch to point her titties west and catch a train. You got a problem with that?”
“Just like that, huh?” Isaiah ejected the clip from the Glock. “So what do you need this little ol’ thing for?”
“To kill you with?”
“Well, it’d sure do the job if I wasn’t the one holding it.” Isaiah whipped out the Honjo and the edge was instantly at the man’s neck. “But this doesn’t make as much noise.”
Isaiah took one moment to search him, found a backup pistol on his belt, and tossed it into the snow.
The man spat, “You ain’t gonna kill me, Isaiah! You’d have an entire army down on your head and you know it! You wouldn’t even make it down the mountain! You sure as hell wouldn’t make it home!”
“I’m not gonna kill you,” Isaiah said calmly, “because you’re gonna do exac
tly what I tell you.”
“And what’s that?”
“You’re gonna take us back inside that compound.”
The man gaped. “Are you crazy?”
“You’re my passport.”
“I’ll blow the whistle on you and your girlfriend first chance I get because I don’t think you’re crazy enough to kill me when you’ve got a hundred rifles aimed at you.” He frowned. “And her.”
“Trust me,” Isaiah shook his head, “I truly don’t care about living or dying. I’ve been living on borrowed time all my life and I never saw much worth living for in the first place. But I’m not in any hurry to die, either. So you need to get it through your head. I will blow your brains out if you alert the guards.”
“You dropped the clip.”
“We both know there’s one in the chamber. And your friend will be in the back seat with my friend and she’ll kill him, too. She’s not afraid to die finding out what happened to her sister. But if you get us inside that compound, I’ll let you go.”
“Go ahead and kill me, tough guy. You think I’m gonna take you all the way back there just so you can blow my brains out?”
Isaiah almost laughed as he said, “I’m telling you the truth. Just take us back and I’ll let you live.” His eyes narrowed. “Trust me, man, if I wanted you dead, you’d be dead. No sound. No alarm. Nobody would know for a few days and we’d be back home by then. Is that any way for a hard case like you to die?”
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