The Fifth Profession

by David Morrell

  “How did they get in? The top of each wall has intrusion sensors.” Akira passed the pond, no longer staring at the corpse that floated there. He reached the back wall and paced along it toward the right.

  Savage followed him to a corner, then along another wall. Fifteen seconds later, they came to a rope imbedded in the sand. The rope slanted up toward the top of a four-story building. Akira dug into the sand. In the ground beneath it, he found that the rope was attached to a bolt.

  “They fired the bolt from the roof of the building,” Akira said. “The device they used to fire it must have had a sound suppressor. Either that or they used an extremely powerful catapult, something silent like a crossbow that Churi wouldn't hear.”

  “And as soon as the rope was anchored, they slid down, avoiding the top of the wall,” Savage said. “But your house has intrusion detectors as well. How did they get inside?”

  Akira walked despondently toward the house. “Churi let them.”

  “What? But I thought you trusted him.”

  “Without question.” They neared the back porch. Akira pointed toward Churi's body. “Note his position. The door is open. He fell, half in, half out of the house. He's on his stomach. His head is within the corridor.” They reached the body. “And he has blood on his back. A bullet hole.”

  “So he was going into the house when he was shot from behind,” Savage said.

  Akira knelt and touched Churi's shoulder. His voice was thick with grief. “The evidence supports that conclusion. There's a switch hidden near the hot tub that shuts off the sensors. After standing watch for hours, Churi must have felt the need to enter the house, possibly to use the bathroom. When he shut off the sensors and opened the door, he was shot.”

  And his last frantic breath must have been the cough I heard, Savage thought. The sounds of the door being opened, of Churi falling, must have been what made me wake up, but I wasn't aware I'd heard them. They also woke Akira.

  “Handguns are strictly controlled in Japan,” Akira said. “That's why Churi had the sword, which the man in the pool grabbed as he ran from the house. Presumably Churi intended to reactivate the intrusion sensors after he entered and locked the door. Note the urine stain around his hips.” Akira stroked the back of Churi's head. “My dear friend, how could you have been so foolish? So many times I told you, don't breach the perimeter of what you're guarding. Don't leave your post. Make sure you relieve yourself before you go on duty, and if the needs of your body later insist, urinate in your clothes. Soundlessly. The discomfort you'll feel is nothing compared to the need to fulfill your obligation as a protector. Why, Churi? Did I not teach you well enough? Was I not worthy to be your sensei?” Akira's shoulders heaved. He sobbed, leaned down, and kissed the back of Churi's neck.

  Savage watched helplessly. There was nothing he could think of to say. Every consoling statement that occurred to him seemed pathetically inadequate.

  At last, compassion told him what to do. No speeches. No rationalizations. No attempt to minimize the loss or try to make some sense of it. Two heartfelt words would say it all.

  “I'm sorry.” Savage gripped Akira's heaving shoulders.

  Wiping his tears, struggling for breath, Akira said, his voice unsteady, “Domo arigato.”

  A movement in the corridor caught Savage's attention. Glancing up from Akira, he saw Eko standing in front of Churi. Tears streamed down her face. Slowly kneeling, then sitting, she cradled her grandson's head.

  Savage felt choked.

  But another movement in the corridor attracted his gaze as well. Like someone who'd been hypnotized, Rachel stepped haltingly from the dark. Her face was disturbingly pale, her features slack, her eyes blank with shock.

  She stared uncomprehendingly straight ahead, seemingly unaware of Eko sitting before her, of Akira stroking Churi's hair, of Savage gripping Akira's shoulders.

  Unfocused, though directed toward the garden, her eyes refused to blink.

  My God, Savage thought. He shivered when he studied her arms straight down her sides and realized she held a pistol in her right hand, its silencer pointing toward her right foot. After we left the house, she must have gone back to my room. She must have found the pistol on the floor beside the first intruder Akira killed.

  I told her to stay in the front of the house.

  Why didn't she listen? What's she doing with the gun?

  Feeling pressure behind his ears, Savage cautiously straightened. Afraid that he'd startle her, make her flinch and reflexively fire the pistol, he moved slowly, stepped gingerly past Akira, Churi, and Eko, and warily put both hands on hers. As he shifted the weapon so it was pointed toward a wall, he removed her finger from the trigger and pried her fingers off the grip.

  “There,” he said. His shoulders relaxing, he set the pistol on the floor. “That's better. I know you're scared, but you shouldn't have picked up the gun. You might have shot yourself. Or one of us.”

  She didn't reply, didn't seem aware that he'd taken the gun, but just kept staring toward the night.

  “Before you pick up a pistol again,” Savage said, “wait till I teach you how to handle it.”

  “Know,” she whispered.

  “Know?”

  “How to handle one.”

  “Of course, you do.” Savage hoped he didn't sound as if he humored her.

  “Father taught me.” Though close to him, Rachel's murmur sounded far away.

  Savage waited, his arm around her. Her back was disturbingly rigid.

  “Rifles, pistols, shotguns. Skeet shooting every Sunday. He once made me kill a pheasant.” She shuddered.

  “Long ago,” Savage said. “And what happened tonight is over. You're safe now.”

  “For now. It isn't going to end. Others will come. They'll never stop.”

  “You're wrong,” Savage said. “They will stop. We'll make them stop. And I'll protect you.”

  “Had to … Picked up the pistol. Three of them.”

  “I'm not sure what you …”

  Then Savage was sure what she meant, and he shuddered just as she did. “Three?”

  She pivoted slowly, an inch at a time. It was almost as if a section of the floor moved instead of her feet. Blank, she faced the murky corridor.

  Appalled, Savage picked up the pistol and hurried along the corridor. He found a light switch, turned it on. Blinking from the sudden glare, he stepped through the shattered wall to his room. The dark-clothed corpse on the floor was the first man Akira had killed. Blood soaked his chest, but that had been caused by the other intruder's shooting at Akira, missing, and hitting his partner.

  Three of them?

  Savage looked into Rachel's room and saw no one. Apprehensive, he entered the room beyond it, turned on a lamp, and found it deserted. For a moment, he studied the samurai swords on a wall and the blank space where the sword he'd taken had hung.

  He opened a section of the wall and returned to the corridor. At the far end, Rachel hadn't moved. Trancelike, she faced him, her back to Akira and Eko as they touched Churi's body, grieving.

  “Rachel, are you sure?”

  Then he saw the empty bullet casings on the mats between Akira's room and his own. Ready with the pistol, he approached the open wall to Akira's room.

  Inside, a black-clothed man lay flat on his back, his eyes open wide with surprise, blood all around him, his chest stitched with bullet holes. There were empty casings at his feet.

  Savage turned toward the empty casings in the corridor and further casings in his own room. Some of the casings had been ejected from the pistol when the intruder shot, struggling with Akira.

  How many times had the intruder fired? Savage wondered.

  Four, maybe five. There'd been so much going on that Savage couldn't remember. Dreading what he'd discover, he removed the magazine from the bottom of the pistol's grip.

  The magazine was empty.

  He pulled back the slide on top of the pistol. The firing chamber was empty. The pistol w
as designed so that when the last empty casing flipped from the gun the slide would stay back. That's what had fooled him. Rachel must have pressed the release so the slide slid forward as if the pistol were loaded.

  Jesus, he thought. He surveyed the trail of casings from his room, across the corridor, into Akira's room. The third intruder must have hidden in the house when their plan went bad. Rachel came into my room, found the pistol, heard or saw the third man.

  And shot him until the gun was empty, ten rounds at least, all the time walking toward him into Akira's room, standing above him, continuing to fire.

  Jesus, he repeated. She was so damned terrified that she'd completely lost control. No wonder she looks like a zombie. She isn't in shock because they attacked us. She's in shock because …

  He walked down the corridor and held her tightly. “You didn't have a choice.”

  Her arms remained at her side, her body rigid.

  “Rachel, you had to defend yourself. Think about it. He'd have killed you. You probably saved Akira's life, Eko's, and mine as well. You did the right thing.”

  Her chest heaved against him. “Corpses. Everywhere we go, people die. … And now I'm a killer, too.”

  She didn't need to add, because of you, because I stayed with you, because I fell in love with you.

  What a price to pay for loving someone, Savage thought.

  “I didn't just shoot him. I mutilated him,” Rachel said.

  At last she started to cry. Her tears soaked Savage's pajama top. They stung his skin.

  Because I let you stay with me, Savage thought. This is my fault. For letting myself get involved. Churi isn't the only one who made mistakes tonight.

  Damn it, I broke so many rules.

  If Rachel had been just my principal and not my lover, I'd have known what to do! My responsibility was to stay with her. Akira knew the risks! But because I didn't know if I was protecting my principal or my lover, I felt guilty for choosing sides, for looking after my interests, for deserting Akira.

  Akira. That's another rule I broke. Making friends with him. A protector shouldn't be friends with another protector! Because then you don't know whom to protect, your friend or your principal!

  Christ, what a mess. As soon as Rachel was safe, I shouldn't have run to help Akira. I should have searched the goddamn house to make sure there weren't other intruders. Rachel was forced to kill that man because I fucked up.

  Rachel convulsed, sobs racking her.

  Savage held her tighter. “I'm sorry, Rachel.”

  That's twice tonight I said those words, he thought.

  And how many more times will I have to say them?

  “I'd give anything to change what happened,” he told her.

  He was just about to say the sooner you get away from me the better it'll be for you when she surprised him, putting her arms around him.

  “Whoever sent those men, whoever made me kill,” she said, “God help me, I want him to pay. I'm angry enough to kill again.”

  Her outburst shocked him. Frowning past her shoulder, Savage saw Akira and Eko touching Churi's body at the end of the corridor.

  Akira rose, trembling with grief, and turned toward the garden, his voice deep, strangled with emotion. “For fifteen years, my father concentrated to create this garden. For almost as many years, I continued his efforts. Look at it. Footprints obscure the rake marks. Blood soaks the sand. The pool has been desecrated. The efforts of what amounts to half a lifetime ruined. Whoever hired these cowards to invade my home so lacks nobility that he doesn't deserve to be treated as a worthy adversary. When I find him, I shall kill him with contempt, dismember his body, and dump it into the sea. His spirit will not be at peace with those of his ancestors. I swear to achieve this for what they did to my father's garden.” Akira exhaled. “And to Churi.”

  Akira's anger, coupled with Rachel's, made Savage's heart plummet. Their vows of revenge chilled his veins. What was it Rachel had said? Corpses. Everywhere we go, people die. Yes, so much death, he thought. We're caught in it. Trapped. I once believed what Graham taught me, that vengeance was honorable. Now? The bitterness in Rachel's voice. The ferocity on Akira's face. What we do to survive this nightmare could destroy us.

  Feeling Rachel sob against him, Savage held her tighter.

  7

  They sat on cushions at a low black table in a room that hadn't been despoiled.

  “Who sent those men here? How did they know they'd find us?” Savage asked.

  Akira's usually melancholy features were now hard with outrage. “They didn't just happen to attack us on the night we arrived. They were waiting.”

  “Which means that someone assumed we'd eventually come here from America,” Rachel said.“… Virginia Beach, and now here.”

  “I don't think the two attacks are related,” Savage said. “In Virginia Beach, the intent seemed to be to kill Mac, so he wouldn't reveal information, and to get you away from Akira and me, so you wouldn't … What? Be in the way? Interfere with the reason we'd been given false memories? Evidently you're not supposed to be a part of this.”

  “In contrast, tonight's attack was indiscriminate,” Akira said. “Only people I totally trust have been invited into my home. Eko would never tell anyone about the arrangements inside. Nor would Churi. The intruders could not have known which bedroom was mine and which were the guest rooms. No single one of us was their objective. If they'd wanted to take Rachel away from us, they'd have chosen a controllable situation in which they had a clear view of her. But to sneak inside my home? It appears that they came for, meant to kill, all three of us.”

  Rachel's eyes narrowed. “Whoever hired the team in Virginia Beach isn't the same as whoever sent these three men tonight.”

  “It looks that way,” Savage said. “The two attacks were controlled by different people with different goals. One wants us to continue searching. The other wants the search to end. But who? Damn it, what's going on?”

  Rachel turned toward Akira. “You mentioned a man you wanted to talk to. You called him ‘wise and holy.’ “

  Akira nodded. “I hoped we could see him this morning. But now I'm afraid we'll have to postpone the visit. … Because of Churi.” The tendons in Akira's throat bulged like ropes. “Arrangements must be made.”

  From the rear of the house, Savage heard Eko weeping and imagined her continuing to cradle her grandson's head. The corpse had been brought inside and the door locked.

  “If only the three intruders had been killed, I'd be tempted to dispose of their bodies,” Akira said. “But I don't own a car to take them away, and by the time I rented one, the streets would be so crowded that we'd be seen carrying the bodies outside, no matter how well we tried to disguise them. An alternative would be to take advantage of the remaining darkness and bury the corpses in the garden. That solution is unacceptable. I refuse to permit a further insult to my father's garden. Besides, the intruders don't matter. Churi does. He must be given a proper funeral. He must be buried with honor. It's essential that Eko and I be able to visit him often, to pray at his grave. My duty is clear. I'm forced to alert the police.”

  Savage studied him. “Yes.”

  “When they arrive, you shouldn't be here,” Akira said. “If two Americans are implicated in the deaths, the police will conduct a much more rigorous investigation. They'll discover that you entered this country with counterfeit passports. You'll be arrested. Even if the police don't question your, passports, the publicity will attract so much attention it'll hurt our search.”

  “But what will you tell the police?” Rachel asked.

  “Three men broke into my house to steal my art collection. They shot Churi in the process. The commotion wakened me and led to a struggle. I killed one in hand-to-hand combat, used his pistol to kill another, emptied the weapon, grabbed a sword and chased the third intruder, who'd also grabbed a sword but failed to defend himself against my attack. That I used a sword will seem heroic and be in my favor.”

&n
bsp; Savage thought about it. “All the details fit. It ought to work.” It better, he silently added.

  “But only if I wipe your and Rachel's fingerprints from the pistols you held,” Akira said. “After that, because the weapons won't have prints, I'll need to press them against the fingertips of the dead man in your room and the one in the garden. Then too, I'll need to fire a weapon to put traces of burnt gunpowder on my hands, in case the police test my skin to prove that I did indeed discharge a pistol. … Can you think of anything else?”

  “Yes,” Savage said. “My fingerprints are on one of the swords.”

  “I'll take care of it. You should leave right now. Before the condition of the bodies warns the medical examiner that an undue amount of time passed between the fight and when I phoned the police.”

  Rachel looked reluctant. “But where should we go? How do we get in touch with you? I'm so used to the three of us being together, the thought of being separated …”

  “I'll join you as soon as possible,” Akira said. “I'll give you my phone number, but you shouldn't call here unless it's absolutely necessary. I'll also give you directions to a restaurant I'm fond of. Be there at noon. If I can't meet you, I'll phone. The owner knows me. I trust him.”

  “But what if you don't have the chance to call there?” Rachel's voice quavered.

  “Return to the restaurant at six in the evening.”

  “And if you still don't make contact?”

  “Try the restaurant the following morning at nine. If I continue to fail to get in touch with you, call my home. If Eko answers and says ‘moshi, moshi,’ which means ‘hello,’ that'll tell you there's a reasonable explanation for my absence. Call back. But if she says ‘hai,’ which is ‘yes’ and a rude way to answer the phone, something's very wrong. Hang up, and leave Japan as quickly as possible.”

  “I can't do that,” Savage said.

  Akira squinted. “Oh?”

  “I've come too far. I've been through too much. With you or without you, I intend to settle this,” Savage said.

  “By yourselves, with no knowledge of Japanese, you couldn't possibly succeed. Remember what I told you. Japan is an insular tribal society. Among its one hundred and twenty-five million people, less than fifteen thousand Americans live here. Outsiders are suspect. You'd receive no cooperation in your search. And where would you search?”