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“Do as I order!” Araki yelled.

The captain was not happy, sailing about blindly in the fog. He could not turn his own radar on because it would cancel out the ship’s invisibility. Reluctantly, he ordered the engine room to increase thrust.

In the shadow of the north tower, Okomo and Ohashi had watched the Sullivan go by on their radar screen. There had been a slight image just after that, as if a small boat was out there but it had quickly disappeared.

Okomo checked his watch. His divers had another half hour of air. Then he was going to have to go back for them regardless of whether anyone else showed up or not. He went to the floor below the bridge to inform his passengers of that.

Just to the south of the drama being played out on and in the waters of the Golden Gate, the tilt-jet was slowing as the wings rotated from horizontal to vertical. Looking out the window, Kuzumi could see that they were very low over the ocean, perhaps thirty feet up. He could see a line of white in the darkness ahead: breakers hitting the shore. Kuzumi could tell that Nakanga was very nervous. Kuzumi had not filled him in on what was going to happen, but he knew there was very good reason why that was so. It was because Kuzumi didn’t know what was going to happen. He was playing this by ear. He just wanted to be within earshot to do something once he did find out what was happening.

CHAPTER 16

SAN FRANCISCO HARBOR
THURSDAY, 9 OCTOBER 1997
12:48 A.M. LOCAL

Lake was like a spider on the fender, arms and legs holding to the concrete, his head pointing down. He looked at the midget sub and the object it had towed in the glow of his headlamp for several moments. He knew that whoever had killed the diver caught on the pipe had to be around here. His gaze flickered over the dark terrain and saw nothing moving or hiding. In the sub, Lake thought. He crawled down, then onto the sub and up the conning tower. From the way the rust and dirt had been disturbed he could tell that the handle had been touched.

Lake considered the situation. With only one entrance, and that one being an airlock, there was no way to get in without whoever was inside knowing he was coming. That made them even, Lake thought, as he turned the handle for the outside hatch. As he cracked it, an air bubble burst out. Lake slid in, pulling the hatch shut behind him and securing it.

He looked down at the handle at his feet. If the person inside didn’t want him in, all they had to do was jam it. He grabbed it and twisted. It turned freely.-The hatch was designed to open in and the moment he loosened it enough, it fell open with an explosion of water into the sub. Lake followed, the Hush Puppy at the ready.

His feet hit the side of the compartment and slid out from under him. Despite losing his balance his hands were working on the Hush Puppy, drawing back the slide, which ejected the chamber plug making it ready to shoot.

Which Lake didn’t do as he came to a halt half against the floor and wall, the muzzle of the weapon steady on the other occupant of the submarine. Who had an old-style Japanese pistol trained in reverse parallel to Lake’s aim.

“Nishin,” Lake said, spitting out his regulator after seeing that the other man was breathing the sub’s air.

The Japanese man raised an eyebrow. “How do you know my name?”

“An agent of your government has been following you,” Lake said, his grip still steady on the gun. He didn’t dare take his eyes off the other man, but in his peripheral vision he could see there was a body next to Nishin.

“Was he following me using a bug inside my body?” Nishin asked.

“Yes.”

“Ah.” Nishin was staring at Lake. “Your name is Lake. You are the American gun dealer. Except that is your cover. You really work for an organization called the Ranch.”

“How did you know that?” Lake asked.

“I was told so by the Yakuza.”

Lake was surprised that the Yakuza would know about him and the Ranch. Of course, he imagined that Nishin wasn’t too thrilled about having a bug in him. He also realized that he really didn’t know why Nishin was here.

“Now that we’ve been properly introduced,” Lake said, “what now?”

He knew he could kill Nishin with a pull of the trigger. And the odds were the other man would be dead before he could pull his own trigger. Of course he also knew that Nishin could have done the same at any moment also. But

Lake had a feeling that Nishin held some of the pieces of this mystery and Lake wanted answers more than he wanted another body. Why Nishin hadn’t fired yet, he didn’t know.

“I do not know,” Nishin said. “I should kill you, I suppose. But there is information that you have that I desire. A compromise perhaps?”

Lake didn’t trust Nishin and he knew the other man didn’t trust him. But they were currently in a lose-lose situation. They were both professionals, which meant they both knew that if they had wanted to kill the other, somebody would be dead right now. Nishin lowered his weapon and Lake followed suit.

“Who is that?” Lake said, finally looking at the mummified body. He grimaced as he spotted the hand on the knife and the slashed midsection. It was fortunate it was so cold down here or else the air inside of the submarine would have been foul. The body had dehydrated and the flesh was brown and wrinkled.

“The operator of this ship,” Nishin said. “A man named Hatari.”

Lake pointed at the box next to Hatari’s body. “Is that the detonator for the bomb?”

Nishin laughed, which surprised Lake. “It is supposed to be,” Nishin said. “But it is not functional.”

“After all these years it…” Lake began, but Nishin cut him off.

“I know it should not work after all these years, but it was not functional in 1945,” he said. He picked it up and tossed it to Lake.

“How do you know that?” Lake turned it over in his hands, looking at it, then he stuck it under his weight belt.

Nishin held up a leather-bound book. “The ship’s log. Hatari tried to detonate the bomb. Nothing happened.”

Lake remembered Feliks’s boasting about deals being made and broken back then. What the hell was this all about?

Nishin must have seen the look on his face, because the Japanese man tucked his gun into his pants. “Hatari was betrayed. I am beginning to believe I might also be betrayed.” He tapped his left buttocks. “Someone put this bug into me without my knowledge. Things are most strange.”

Lake had to agree with that. “I think I have been betrayed also.” He felt like he was talking to Harmon again, letting out information and thoughts that his training said he shouldn’t but the circumstances and his gut instincts told him he should. Nishin was a killer, but so was Lake.

Nishin didn’t seem at all surprised by’ Lake’s worry. “I have been a fool. I have been told that by a Yakuza Oyabun and I am beginning to believe he is right.”

You’re not alone, Lake wanted to say. Was Feliks right? Was he just a stooge who followed orders? Was Nishin one also? Had Hatari been in the same situation in 1945? Lake slid the Hush Puppy into his holster.

“There are many people after this bomb,” Lake said. “I think we—”

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Nishin snapped. “I am not one of you. I am Japanese and that is where my allegiance lies. I am Black Ocean and that is where my allegiance lies. I might be a fool and not know what is going on, but I must be loyal. This man”—Nishin nudged Hatari’s shoulder-“was betrayed, but he was also Black Ocean and he died like a man. I will do the same if it is necessary.” Nishin’s hand strayed to the butt of his gun.

“The bomb will still be here even if you kill me,” Lake said. “What do you plan on doing with it?”