The Fifth Profession

Sickened, Savage turned to Rachel. “You suggested that as a possibility. Remember? After Mac was killed? But I didn't want to believe it.” He glanced back at Hailey. “So for all these years I've been”-bile stung his throat-”a blackmailer.”

“Hey, it's not that bad, Savage. Don't be hard on yourself. You saved a lot of lives. You're a talented protector.”

“That doesn't change the fact that I pledged allegiance to my clients and then betrayed them,” Savage growled.

“Not all of them. Most were legitimate assignments, to maintain your cover… But some clients… Yes, you betrayed them. You've got to believe me, Savage. They deserved to be betrayed.”

Savage stared at the glinting knife in his hand. He almost slammed its point through the table. “And you were my contact. That's how the splinter group learned about me.”

“Your background was perfect. A man with superior military skills and with protection abilities that enabled you to understand and bypass security systems. An operative in deep cover who wouldn't be missed by the agency if you dropped out of sight for a while. And one other item, a crucial detail about your past.”

“What detail?”

“Now here's where we pause for a moment, Savage.”

“Tell me! What detail?”

“No, first it's deal time,” Hailey said. “I'm not telling you all this for fun. The guys who brought me here would just as soon kill me as let me go. I'm walking a narrow line. My price for telling you that crucial detail about your past is my freedom. You're so concerned about honor. Okay, I want your word, I want you to swear that if I tell you, I walk out of here. And this is your incentive-the information's about your father.”

Savage clutched the knife so hard his knuckles whitened.

“What about my father?”

“You won't like it, Savage.”

“He shot himself! If that's your filthy secret, I already know it!”

“Yes, he shot himself,” Hailey said. “The question is why.”

“My father helped organize the Bay of Pigs invasion. When it failed, the government needed a fall-guy. My father, God bless him… Incredibly loyal, he agreed. So he took the heat and resigned. But humiliation ate his soul. The agency meant everything to him. Away from it, he had no purpose. He started drinking. The booze intensified his emptiness. He blew his brains out.”

“Yes and no.”

“What are you talking about?”

“A deal,” Hailey said. “I want to walk out of here. And what I'm selling is the truth about your father's suicide.”

“The truth? My father's dead! What other truth can there be?”

“Plenty. Let me walk out of here, and you'll find out.”

“Maybe I don't want to know. Maybe if I killed you right now…”

Hailey shook his head. “You'd regret it forever. You'd always want to know the secret. And I'll be honest with you. The truth will tear you apart. But that's why you'll want to know.”

Savage glared. “You…” In horror, he remembered the night he'd found his father's body, a towel placed beneath his father's head to minimize the spatter of blood and brains. “You have my word.”

“Not just yours. I want this man's word.” Hailey pointed toward Taro. “He has no obligation to me. And after all, I'm a gaijin. I doubt he'd feel remorse or bound by your word if he killed me.”

Savage slowly turned, directing his gaze toward the bald, wrinkled, stern-eyed Japanese. “Taro-sensei…” Struggling to choose the proper words, Savage bowed. “Taro-sensei, I ask a formal favor of you. Akira explained the significance of such a request. I'm willing to put myself in eternal debt to you. I accept the obligation of giri. I ask you… with respect, I beg you… to spare this man's life if he tells me what I need to know.”

Taro squinted, assessing.

“I ask you this,” Savage said, “in devotion to Akira's memory.”

Taro squinted harder, staring from Savage to Hailey, then back again.

“For Akira?” the old man asked. “Hai.” He bowed in grief.

“All right, Hailey, it's a deal. You have our word,” Savage said.

Hailey debated. “I've worked for the agency too long. I'm not used to acts of faith.”

“Tell me!”

“Okay, I'll trust you. Your father committed suicide. Yes. But not for the reasons you think. It had nothing to do with the Bay of Pigs.”

“What?”

“Your father, Savage, was in charge of the agency's attempts to assassinate Castro. He kept trying and trying. And every plan failed. But Castro found out what the agency was doing. He warned the United States to leave him alone. But your father, under orders, kept trying. So Castro decided enough was enough and arranged for President Ke

“Oh, Jesus.” Savage's strength failed. He slumped, falling backward. Rachel supported him.

“I told you you wouldn't like it,” Hailey said. “But that's the truth, and I expect you to fulfill your bargain.”

“I promised.” Savage could barely speak. “You'll walk out of here.”

“And that's the piece of your background that made you an ideal candidate for the assassin who'd fail to kill Shirai. Like father, like son. Shirai could not only implicate the United States in an attempt against him, but he could link that attempt all the way back to the Ke

“What about Akira?” Savage exhaled with grief. “How did he fit in?”

“Shirai needed to compromise the Japanese establishment as much as he did America. So why not use a Japanese Intelligence operative who also had executive protection as a cover? If the two of you thought each other had died, and if you both discovered you were still alive, you'd each want to know what caused your nightmare. Certain choices were predictable-that you'd go to the Medford Gap Retreat and discover it didn't exist, that you'd go to the Harrisburg hospital and discover you'd never been there. Et cetera. Et cetera. But as soon as Shirai made his move and it was publicized, on television, in the newspapers, you'd recognize the principal you saw cut in half, and you'd run to him to find out what he knew about your nightmare.”

“But some things weren't predictable,” Savage said. “My decision to go to Virginia, to talk to Mac.”

“Exactly. After you were conditioned… it happened in Japan, by the way, at Shirai's estate… before the casts were put on your arms and legs, a location transmitter was inserted in a cap that was put on one of your teeth. That site was chosen because you and Akira, like many people, already had a dental cap. On an X ray, the replaced caps wouldn't attract attention. And because of those location transmitters, Shirai's men knew about-could follow you-everywhere. In case they had to nudge you in the right direction.

“But seeing Mac in Virginia was not the right direction.”

“Yes,” Hailey said. “Shirai's men feared Mac would tell you too much and erase your conditioning. They had to kill him.”

“And try to grab Rachel because she was the reason Akira and I came together but after that she didn't belong in the plan.”

“Unfortunately that's true.”

“What about the man and woman I thought were my parents?”

“The ones in Baltimore?” Hailey asked. “Window dressing. Further confusion. Shirai's intention, with prodding from the splinter group in the agency who used Shirai's lieutenant, was to so confuse you that when you saw Shirai on television or in the newspaper, you'd race to get in touch with him. Of course, the alternate plan would have been to abduct Akira and you, drug you, take you to Shirai's estate, and kill you while Shirai's men sacrificed their lives for their leader's ambitions. Mind you, that plan has the merit of simplicity.” Hailey shrugged. “But it wouldn't have been convincing- because you and Akira had to leave a trail. In Greece. In southern France. In America. Most of all, in Japan. You had to leave evidence-the stamps on fake passports you carried, not to mention the conversations you had with taxi drivers, hotel clerks, and immigration officials-that showed your determination to get to Shirai.”