Chapter 41

After a dinner that Eric had barely eaten enough of to even determine if the food was good, Kitani led him to a nearby garage to retrieve his Mercedes. “I’ll drive you home,” Kitani offered.

Eric got in the car, but then the thought popped into his mind that perhaps Kitani was going to take him someplace deserted and kill him. Kitani was undoubtedly capable of both the act itself and the duplicity involved in luring Eric to it, but surely he had no reason to do away with Eric. After all, Eric had no actual proof that Kitani had extracted information from Westlake—only gut knowledge, not much use in a court of law. And even if he did have proof, surely he would have passed it on by now. Not much of a reason to do Eric in.

Still, when Kitani took a wrong turn at Mount Vernon, Eric’s paranoia perked up at once. “This isn’t the way home,” he interrupted his chauffeur.

“Don’t worry about it,” answered Kitani. “I want to show you something. No, actually, I want you to help me in an enterprise. Since you’re already so certain that I’m an industrial spy, I want to confirm your suspicions, but not at too cheap a price. This is what I have in mind. You participate in this job with me and then we’ll sit down and talk. What we do will prove everything to you, and then you can ask all the questions you want. Is that agreed?”

“Why would you tell me what I want to know unless you plan to kill me afterward?” asked Eric, highly doubtful.

“Kill you? Hardly. But I’ll give you all the answers you require because you’ll have compromised yourself by coming with me on this job,” said Kitani. “Your accusations will be tainted.”

“Okay,” agreed Eric. Kitani’s presumption was naive. Surely being an undercover investigator was a good enough excuse for Eric to join his suspect in a criminal venture—especially if he thought doing so would lead to information. Eric cursed himself out for not bringing a pocket recorder along to tape Kitani’s already damning admissions.

Kitani stopped the car along the side of the road in an isolated area. “We have to change,” he told Eric. “Get in back and put on your sweat suit.” Kitani himself pulled on a dark black sweat suit in the front seat, then started the car and drove further along the road. They came to an industrial park, and Kitani drove around to the back of one of the complexes. He parked the car in a darkened area and handed a piece of black cloth to Eric who was still in the rear seat.

“What is it?” asked Eric.

“It’s a hood, put it on.”

Kitani put one on himself, and Eric followed suit. Similar hoods were used in the military by assault entry personnel. Military hoods were flame resistant and had an eye slot that allowed the wearer to use goggles. This hood though was a ninja hood with two holes for the eyes and a mouth slit. The hoods supposedly made the two of them invisible.

Kitani, in fact, with his dark-black clothing would be hard to see, but Eric’s sweat suit was grey. He would be vivid against the landscape and would be the first to be shot. He opened his mouth to protest, then closed it. Nothing is so disgusting as a soldier who objects to his role in a sortie. And few complaints are fated to fall so sort of their goal. The commander has set his course.

They got out of the car, stepping into the frozen muck. So this was why Kitani had told him to bring along sneakers. Although his climbing boots would have allowed him to dig in better, the sneakers were nearly slip-proof over the tundra. Eric was able to keep pace with Kitani, who moved quickly and quietly across the landscape, seeking an occasional tree beside which to duck, but otherwise advancing ahead fearlessly.

They approached an office building of somewhat modern design, six stories or so high, well-lit on the outside. Little foliage was planted around the perimeter, which would leave them without cover, a major vulnerability if the property was well guarded. Kitani motioned Eric forward, then stopped about twenty feet from the building itself, where he signaled Eric to halt as well.

Kitani jumped over an imaginary line and rolled. He gestured for Eric to do the same. Eric gave it his best high jump without the pole and somersaulted onto his shoulder. He looked back and saw why they had jumped—an infrared beam shot across the area a full foot from the ground. They had passed over the system without triggering it—in fact, Eric had passed over without even seeing it. Either Kitani had stolen the security plans to this place, or he was simply experienced in break-ins of this sort.

The two intruders zigzagged their way over the frozen earth. The bad news would be if dogs were kept here. A human patrol might not spot Eric and Kitani, especially if the guards were careless and eager to get back inside on a winter night, but dogs would be on them in a minute.

It was bitter cold out here. Now that Eric’s initial surprise and fright at what they were doing had worn off, he was freezing. He was glad that they were rushing forward, if only to their doom. The activity had a slightly warming effect.

They made it to the rear of the building and stood against the wall to catch their breath and evaluate their position in regard to the enemy. No, these people weren’t the enemy. Whatever security there was, Eric was on their side. Only not exactly right at the moment.

They circled the building. Or rather, Kitani circled and Eric moved along behind. Kitani kept looking up as if trying to find something he was sure was there. “I can pick locks,” Eric whispered to him. Happily, he had taken to tucking one or two picks into his leg sheath at all times.

Kitani smiled. He pointed up. “The third-floor window,” he said quietly. “It’s open. That’s how we get in.”

Eric shuddered. He felt like throwing up. Heights weren’t his favorite thing, although he could stand being high where some natural gradation that made sense occurred—like the side f a mountain. A building was straight up, not meant to be climbed. “It’s kind of dangerous,” he protested softly.

“The ledges are wide,” insisted Kitani. He put his foot in a ground floor window frame.

Yes, the ledges were wide enough. It was what came between the ledges that bothered Eric. The building consisted of sheets of steel—no toeholds—and window frames. He watched as Kitani put his other foot on the narrow extension on top of the frame he had begun to climb. Where was he going to go from there?

Kitani grabbed onto the first ledge, then swung his bottom foot and part of his leg up onto that parapet—quite a stretch. He heaved the rest of his body over the side with both great difficulty and grace. Instantly, he leaned over and motioned for Eric to hurry and do the same.

Three floors. Could someone be killed falling three stories? Eric put his left foot inside the bottom of the frame. Sturdy enough to hold a window, but why should it have been engineered to hold the weight of a man?

He was a little taller than Kitani, so theoretically that should give him some advantage in the climb up. He put his other foot on top of the window and heard a slight crack. Ignoring the sound, he pushed down with his weight. If he was going to fall, he might as well fall now, before he was even one flight up. The window frame held, however, and Eric, his hands still on the frame, gripped the ledge with his first leg, then swung his other foot onto it, groping for leverage. How the hell had Kitani done it? In truth, the move was an impossible one.

Kitani reached down and hoisted Eric up alongside him. Then Kitani smiled. He looked up at the sky and pointed. The moon was out, almost full. “This is what we call a moon viewing,” Kitani said in almost a normal tone of voice. Eric winced at the loudness of it. Anyone patrolling below would hear.

Kitani took off again, one foot over the other, then pulling himself up onto the ledge. Eric followed, relying on his companion again to heave him onto the second parapet. Eric looked down. That was high enough. Perhaps he could wait here.

He was sweating, yet at the same he was freezing cold. This couldn’t be good for you. Never mind, he had a strong immune system. He didn’t get sick. Ever. “Give in and get a cold once in a while,” his sister urged him… Oh, hell, there Kitani went. Shit, Eric was a macho Ranger—he had to follow.

Feet in place, he groped to get onto the ledge, waiting at the same time for Kitani to give him a boost. No helping hand came. He was hanging midair. He glanced down and his stomach flipped over. Why had he trusted Kitani? Why? He fought to get onto the ledge, now half-expecting a hand to push him off, rather than haul him up. He felt dizzy.

Finally, Kitani reached down and gave Eric a muscular assist that allowed Eric to bring his whole body onto the ledge. Blood was swirling around in his head and his face was flushed with effort and the aftermath of fear. He looked at Kitani whose eyes appeared to be twinkling, very like the eyes of the old Sensei—Kitani’s father. Yes, like stars in the sky. Eric felt as if he was going to keel over. “You didn’t work hard enough at it,” Kitani chastised.

Kitani put a leg into the open window, paused to push it up further with both hands, and leapt in entirely. Eric followed, glad to be at last in a position from which he wouldn’t fall. He was trembling, half from cold and half from anxiety.

Kitani looked around—then, without hesitation, went over to the light switch and turned on the light. “Don’t,” hissed Eric, ducking down beneath the line of sight into the window. “Someone will see.”

“I’m sure I can turn on the lights anytime I like in my own office.” Kitani laughed. He indicated their surroundings. “We moved in last week. I thought we could test out the security system tonight. I guess we have a few bugs to work out.” He plunked himself into a leather chair behind a large wooden desk and pointed to the chair on the other side, an invitation to his companion to take a seat.

Eric was in an instant and total state of fury. “You risked my life to play a little joke?”

Kitani shook his head. “Nothing like that,” he answered softly. “I didn’t risk your life very much. And it wasn’t a joke.”

“What was the point of it?” Eric demanded, sucking in air.

“Everything has its price,” replied Kitani sharply. “Whatever it is you want from me, you will have to work harder for it then you imagined.” He smiled. “Look, I know exactly what it is you hope to get,” went on Kitani. “You want to prove that I stole something from Westlake. But that will always remain impossible to demonstrate. And why should you care? Westlake will use you for a while, then one day Ryan will say to you that you’ve been overpaid by them. He’ll ask you to return three-thousand dollars to the company. And in the end, Westlake will back him up. They have no loyalty to you and, if truth be known, only a slight amount to him.”

Kitani might be an exceptional athlete, but he wasn’t a mind reader. “So, it’s your bug in Ryan’s office,” Eric said. “And the other bugs the FBI found must be yours as well.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kitani answered. His gaze was friendly. “Listen,” he said. “For me, it’s all about loyalty. I’m loyal to my people in the mountains. They’re my family, going back hundreds of years. Only ninety-three of them remain. That’s my clan and I’m responsible for them. I have to support them and make sure they have everything they need. I’m not loyal to Moritomo in that way, however. I work for this company because I’m paid a great deal of money to do what I do. But the reason I do this isn’t personal greed, or ambition for Moritomo, or for Japan. It’s for my family in the mountains and what they represent.”

Eric assumed an expression of cynicism and disgust. In fact, he felt almost as if he could understand Kitani’s position, bizarre as it was. “There’s still right and wrong,” he insisted to the Japanese.

Kitani laughed. “Yes, but I know that you understand very well that both right and wrong exist on a fluid and moving continuum,” said the engineer. His manner became stern. “I know that you know that,” he repeated.

Actually, that was one of the few things of which Eric was certain.