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“It’s operational?” Loren spoke in a shocked whisper.
Suma nodded. “Should your President be foolish enough to launch an attack on the Dragon Center, my detection systems will alert me in ample time to signal the robots to deploy and detonate the bomb cars.” He hesitated only long enough to flash a hideous grin. “As Buson, a Japanese poet, once wrote, ‘With his hat blown off/the stiff-necked scarecrow/stands there quite discomfited.’
“The President is the scarecrow, and he stands stymied because his time is gone.”
54
LIVELY, BUT NOT HURRIEDLY, Pitt led them into the building of the retreat that housed the elevator. He walked in the open while the others dodged from cover to cover behind him. He met no humans but was halted by a robotic security guard at the elevator entrance.
This one was programmed to speak only in Japanese, but Pitt had no trouble in deciphering the menacing tone and the weapon pointing at his forehead. He raised his hands in front of him with the palms facing forward and slowly moved closer, shielding the others from its video receiver and detection sensors.
Weatherhill and Mancuso stealthily closed in from the flanks and jabbed their statically charged hoses against the box containing the integrated circuits. The armed robot froze as if in suspended animation.
“Most efficient,” Weatherhill observed, recharging his length of hose by rubbing it vigorously against the silk.
“Think he tipped off his supervisory control?” Stacy wondered.
“Probably not,” Pitt replied. “His sensory capability was slow in deciding whether I was a threat or simply an unprogrammed member of the project.”
Once inside the deserted elevator, Weatherhill opted for the fourth level. “Six opens onto the main floor of the control center,” he recalled. “Better to take our chances and exit on a lower level.”
“The hospital and service units are on four,” Pitt briefed him.
“What about security?”
“I saw no sign of guards or video monitors.”
“Suma’s outside defenses are so tight he doesn’t have to concern himself with interior security,” said Stacy.
Weatherhill agreed. “A rogue robot is the least of his problems.”
They tensed as the elevator arrived and the doors slid open. Fortunately it was empty. They entered, but Pitt hung back, head tilted as if listening to a distant sound. Then he was inside, pressing the button for the fourth level. A few seconds later they stepped out into a vacant corridor.
They moved quickly, silently, following Pitt. He stopped outside the hospital and paused at the door.
“Why are you stopping here?” Weatherhill asked softly.
“We’ll never find our way around this complex without a map or a guide,” Pitt murmured. “Follow me inside.” He pushed the door button and kicked it back against its stops.
Startled, the nurse-receptionist looked up in surprise at seeing Pitt burst through the doorway. She was not the same nurse who aided Dr. Nogami during Pitt’s earlier visit. This one was as ugly and ruggedly constructed as a road grader. Even as she recovered, her arm snapped out toward an alarm button on an intercom communications unit. Her finger was a centimeter away when Pitt’s flattened palm struck her violently on the chin, catapulting her in a backward somersault onto the floor unconscious.
Dr. Nogami heard the commotion and rushed from his office, stopping abruptly and staring at Pitt and the MAIT team as they flooded through the door before pushing it closed. Oddly, the expression on his face was one of curious amusement rather than shock.
“Sorry for intruding, Doc, Pitt said, “but we need directions.”
Nogami gazed down at his nurse who was lying on the floor out cold. “You certainly have a way with women.”
“She was about to set off an alarm,” Pitt said apologetically.
“Lucky you caught her by surprise. Nurse Oba knows karate like I know medicine.” Only then did Nogami take a few seconds to study the motley group of people standing around the prostrate nurse. He shook his head almost sadly. “So you’re the finest MAIT team the U.S. can field. You sure don’t look it. Where in hell did Ray Jordan dig you people up?”
Giordino was the only one who didn’t stare back at the doctor in mute surprise. He looked up at Pitt. “Do you know something we don’t?”
“May I introduce Dr. Josh Nogami, the British deep cover operative who’s been supplying the lion’s share of information on Suma and his operation.”
“You figured it out,” said Nogami.
Pitt made a modest hands-out gesture. “Your clues made it elementary. There is no St. Paul’s Hospital in Santa Ana, California. But there is a Saint Paul’s Cathedral in London.”
“You don’t sound British,” said Stacy.
“Though my father was raised as a British subject, my mother came from San Francisco, and I attended medical school at UCLA. I can do a reasonable American accent without too much effort.” He hesitated and looked Pitt in. the eye, his smile gone. “You realize, I hope, that by coming back here you’ve blown my cover.”
“I regret throwing you in the limelight,” Pitt said sincerely, “but we have a more immediate problem.” He nodded toward the others. “Maybe only another ten or fifteen minutes before Kamatori and three of his security robots are discovered… ah… incapacitated. Damned little time to set off an explosive charge and get out of here.”
“Wait a minute.” Nogami raised a hand. “Are you saying you killed Kamatori and zapped three roboguards?”
“They don’t come any deader,” Giordino answered cheerfully.
Mancuso was not interested in cordial conversation. “If you can please provide us with a diagram of this complex, and quickly, we’ll be on our way and out of your hair.”
“I photographed the construction blueprints on microfilm, but had no way of smuggling them out to your people after I lost my contact.”
“Jim Hanamura?”
“Yes. Is he dead?” Nogami asked, certain of the answer.
Pitt nodded. “Cut down by Kamatori.”
“Jim was a good man. I hope Kamatori died slowly.”
“He didn’t exactly enjoy the trip.”
“Can you please help us?” Mancuso asked urgently, insistently. “We’re ru
Nogami didn’t seem the least bit rushed. “You hope to get out through the tu
“We had thought we might take the train,” said Weatherhill, his eyes aimed through the door into the corridor.
“Fat chance.” Nogami shrugged. “Since you guys penetrated the complex, Suma ordered the tube guarded by an army of robots on the island side and a huge security force of specially trained men at the Edo City end. An ant couldn’t get through.”
Stacy looked at him. “What do you suggest?”
“The sea. You might get lucky and be picked up by a passing ship.”
Stacy shook her head. “That’s out. Any foreign ship that came within five kilometers would be blown out of the water.”
“You have enough on your minds,” Pitt said calmly, his eyes seemingly fixed on one wall as if seeing something on the other side. “Concentrate on planting the explosives. Trust the escape to Al and me.”
Stacy, Weatherhill, and Mancuso all looked at each other. Then Weatherhill nodded in agreement. “You’re on. You’ve saved our lives and got us this far. Be downright rude not to trust you now.”
Pitt turned to Nogami. “How about it, Doc, care to tag along?” Nogami shrugged and gave a half smile. “Might as well. Thanks to you, my usefulness here is finished. No sense in hanging around for Suma to have my head lopped off.”
“Any suggestions for a place to set explosives?” asked Weatherhill.
“I’ll show you an access hole to the electrical cables and fiber optics that feed the entire complex. Set your charge there and you’ll put this place out of business for a month.”