The 47th samurai

“I made a judgment, possibly it was wrong. I had to confirm something fast.”

With an egomaniac like Doug it was important to show contrition. Defiance simply enraged him, and enraged, he was even more erratic than when calm.

“Tell me why it was so goddamned important for the birds to eyeball Japanese mansions and warehouses when they could have been looking at North Korean launch sites, Chinese naval bases, Taliban outposts, or god knows what?”

“I have a guy who has a network, mostly low-grade stuff, but you never can tell. Somehow he picked up a whiff that a certain ultra-wealthy Japanese national had sympathies in a certain direction and was unstable. It wasn’t enough for any hard action. I didn’t put surveillance on him, I didn’t discuss him with Japanese intelligence, because we knew he’d hear. I didn’t try to penetrate or eavesdrop, I didn’t recruit within his organization. But I decided on a look-see.”

“Come on, Susan. You’re stalling. Why, please?”

“Doug, there are a lot of tall buildings in Tokyo. If someone flew an airliner into one of them, we’d look foolish. Plus, it would kill a lot of people. I was trying to split the hair between being overreactive and being responsible. I was trying to do my job. I flash-prioritized it over your signature because if you don’t, it takes weeks. You weren’t around to sign off, as I recall.”

“You can use that one to justify anything, Susan.”

“Yes, Doug. I know. However-”

“What did you find out about Mr. Miwa?”

“Oh, at Langley they made the co

“And how. They are not pleased. What did you learn?”

“Well, frankly, nothing. At one mansion there was what might be termed unusual activity. That is, a great many people, vehicles, a lot of movement outside in the courtyard. Possibly it was a business conference, possibly a company retreat of some sort, even some kind of reunion. Then it occurred to me, since I’d looked into him, that it might have been yakuza-related. I believe he has yakuza ties. But the infrared picked up no concentration of explosives, the spectroscope didn’t indicate nuclear, and we don’t have bio-chem sensors yet.”

“Susan, assure me you didn’t muss, even slightly, Yuichi Miwa’s hair.”

Hmmm, Susan wondered, does cutting his fucking head off count as mussing his hair?

“Doug, no entity under any possibility of my influence or under my direction has had anything to do with Yuichi Miwa. We looked at him from three miles up, that’s all. It couldn’t have been softer or more discreet. If anybody finds out, it’s because of a leak somewhere, nothing that I have done or caused to have done.”

“You’re sure?”

“I was going to eyeball him from upstairs another few times, just to make certain. Maybe I’d put some discreet feelers out. That’s it. I was just checking.”

Doug sat back. He looked immensely relieved.

“Okay, fine. Good. The man is not to be touched, even watched. He is to be utterly ignored.”

“Of course.”

“Strictly hands off. Do you understand?”

“Of course.”

“Until you figure out how to destroy him.”

“Ahhh-”

“That’s why they’re in such a frenzy at Langley. That’s what this is all about.”

He reached into his desk, pulled out a large folder wearing the usual TOP SECRET stamps across its top.

“The file on Miwa-san. It’s come to our attention that some years back, Miwa-san almost went under. He owed yakuza, he owed banks, the whole thing was going away. He convinced himself it was an American plot against him, that the mafia wanted to crack Japanese porn and to do so they had to destroy him. He was Japanese porn; he was Japan, for god’s sake. So he turned for help to the enemy of his enemies, the North Koreans; he told them if they helped him, his newspapers would always sing their song. They funded him. They can’t feed their own people, but they’re giving millions to a Japanese pornographer to produce DVDs the likes of which I can’t even begin to describe.”

“Teacher-blows-Joh

“Thank you, Susan. I knew I could count on you. Anyhow, he turned it around, got in on the Internet early, found some disgusting niches, pushed the technological edge, made sharp investments, and became a major, major billionaire. So your boy’s sense of him may be right. We just have to coordinate all this and stay organized.”

“I have it.”

“Now he’s involved in some election for the king of pornography or something. It’s all in here. He’s got to win that election, he’s got to find some way to make himself an institution. He’s got to do something big, to get all the mucky-mucks and all the little people behind him.”

She just smiled a bit. Nick had it a week ago. He beat Langley’s bright boys by seven full days.

“If he wins, the next step will be the bestowal of something called the Supreme Order of the Chrysanthemum on him, Japan’s highest civilian honor. He’s had lobbyists pushing that in the Diet for months now.”

Now there was something new.

“That will have the impact of instantly legitimizing him, and it’ll gain him access, influence, and so forth. He’s a North Korean agent. He’ll be set to get them stuff on the Japanese and on us they’ve never gotten before.”

“Do the Japanese know this?”

“No. One of our listeners is in North Korea, and if we tell the Japanese, they will understand we have a good North Korean earhole. Then maybe someone finds that out from them. Do you see?”

“Of course.”

“Susan, make up for your bad judgment on Swagger and put it all behind you. This will take all your creativity and imagination. It’s your number one priority now: you must figure out a way to derail the Miwa express, but you must do it in a fashion that leaves no footprints to us. We must appear entirely i

“What’s the time frame?” Susan asked.

“Well, you’ll need a week or so to recon and develop some sources, another to come up with an operating plan, we’ll have to get it approved, then you’ll have to staff it. You’ve got at least three months. No more. I know it’s hard, but sometimes we have to do the hard thing.”

“Okay,” said Susan, “suppose I can bring it off by…four thirty this afternoon?”

“What? Susan, this isn’t a joke. This isn’t-”

“Doug, do I look like I’m joking?”

“I-well, aren’t you overconfident?”

“Doug, you’re scheduled to rotate back to Langley in the spring. Are they going to bring in another stateside tool to be head of station?”

“Susan, that’s not fair.”

“Focus, Doug. Nothing personal, but I’m so tired of answering to tools. By four thirty today, Doug. All right? And then by five thirty you’ve sent the first of many, many wires in which you single me out for extraordinary praise and recommend to all your old-fart buddies I get head of station here. Do we have an understanding?”

“What do you know that-”

“Do we have an understanding?”

Actually, the a