The Samurai Strategy

  _That was the credo of the formidable warrior-samurai Bokuden, wholived during the early seventeenth century. Focus on Noda, I toldmyself, not on staying alive. What we had to do was overcome him andthe money of Japan by the power of mind. By beating him at his owngame. That was the only way we could win.

  As I saw it, we might actually have the advantage. We knew hisstrategy, so all we had to do now was move inside his defenseperimeter. In a way we were even closer than he realized. Noda wasobsessed with Nipponica, and a samurai concentrating on his sword isnot able to attack. The thing to remember was rhythm, the beat. We hadto get out of sync with him, disrupt his pacing.

  When Tam and I retreated to my office, I noticed that my _katana _wasmissing. No surprise, but it didn't really matter. We would be usingthe "no sword" technique anyway, moving under his hilt, then going infor the kill. Jim Bob would be our new weapon.

  At the moment Noda's new hatchet man was strolling around the floor inhis dingy white suit, toting his Uzi and monitoring us with anoccasional vacant stare as he watched the terminal's flash. His bumpkinfacade, incidentally, had to be the best acting job I'd seen since theRoyal Shakespeare. He may have been a spaced-out options hustler atheart, but he could coach Machiavelli on duplicity. A worthy opponent.

  "Just hit nine percent of IBM." He glanced at a CRT screen as he ambleddown the row next to my office, swinging the automatic. "Telephonelooks good for twelve percent by

  opening bell tomorrow. Good thing we've got a computer and these fakeaccounts. Otherwise we might have to cut the SEC in on the news alittle too early."

  Well, DNI was nothing if not organized; "global trading" was on a roll.There would be no way to trace Noda--or to stop him. By the time anybodyrealized what was afoot, he'd be well on the way to having us literallybought out. God knows, Japan had the money.

  "Jim Bob," I yelled across. "Mind telling me what the hell it is youreally think you're up to?"

  "I'm making history." He grinned and waved his Uzi in the air. "You'regetting to watch the dawn of a new age."

  "For your wallet." I beckoned him over. "Tell me something. You didn'tactually sell any of the high-tech stocks on Tam's list after all, didyou?"

  "Hell, no." He was still grinning. "All we did was play games a little.Whenever I sold anything, I just turned around and bought it back a fewminutes later."

  "So where's all the money coming from for this big blue chip takeover?"

  "We got a whole new financial network in place. Mr. Noda worked it outwith the pension funds over there."

  "Well, it seems to me you ought to be doing this thing right. Why thinksmall? Pick up some more shares of those high-tech issues in the oldportfolio too."

  He stared at me with his bloodshot eyes. "How come we'd want to botherwith that?"

  "Just thought maybe you'd like to make a score."

  "Huh?"

  "Besides, down the line it'd probably impress hell out of Noda. The manadmires initiative."

  "What was it you said about a score?" He was blinking in erraticbursts, still flying on uppers.

  "Forget it. Just a crazy idea that crossed my mind." I turned andwalked back into the office . . . where Tam was waiting.

  "What was that all about?"

  "Tam, did you hear what those bastards did?" I was steaming. 'They blewmy daughter's college money."

  "I heard."

  "Well, it pisses me off like I can't begin to describe."

  "I gathered that." She looked at me strangely. "He finally

  got to you, didn't he? Noda finally pulled your cork. No more Mr.Cool."

  "You got it, lady."

  She continued to study me, and into her eyes crept a kind of affectionI didn't even know they possessed. "Guess that makes two of us, Matt.He found out how to get to me, and now he's found out the one thing youcare about."

  "Guess he did at that."

  "Well, now you know how I feel."

  "He broke the rules, Tam. That's not part of the game. But do youunderstand what this means? Now I'm free to do anything I want. Honoris out the window."

  "This isn't a game."

  "You're right. It's a battle. But even battles have rules."

  "My God, macho to the end."

  "Call it what you want. But I am now going to destroy them both,totally. Wipe them out. They've given me no choice."

  "How exactly do you propose doing that?"

  "I made the opening move just now. Next I'm . . . later." I glanced upto see Jim Bob approaching. He was staring at me, glassy-eyed.

  "What was that you were saying a while ago?"

  "Don't remember, Jim Bob."

  "Something about a score."

  "Oh, that. Nothing really."

  "Don't start getting cute, Walton." He sighted his Uzi around theoffice.

  "Nobody screws with you, right?"

  "Better believe it, sport."

  "Well, I was just wondering, since Noda's tied up at the moment, if youmight want to go ahead and make a little money on the side."

  "I'm not doing so bad."

  "Fine. Since you're not interested anyway, we can just skip it. No bigdeal."

  "Hang on a second." His eyes seemed to be trying to focus as he staredthrough his gunsights. "What's the play?"

  "Merely a wild idea, that's all. I was wondering what would happen ifyou bought a few call options on those stocks already in the portfolio,then boosted the prices on those too?"

  "You mean on those high-tech outfits we were supposed to startselling?"

  "Well, the setup's just sitting out there. You've got all that

  Japanese pension money and Noda's computer. No reason not to kite thosehigh-tech issues a little and pick up some pocket change. Fun and gamesto while away the time. But then maybe you've already made all you wantto."

  "Hey, asshole, there's two things you can't ever get too much of, andone of them's money." He was rocking mechanically. "Matter of fact,this action we're generating is driving up the March calls for our newbuys to the point where the price is getting way out of line."

  "Had to happen. Everybody else in town has figured out somebody'sdriving the market. They're getting on the options bandwagon too,bidding them up. So why not play a little market shell-game with thoseissues already in the portfolio, buy some calls and then kite the priceon them as well? Show Noda a thing or two."

  "Kind of stick it to the boss man." He paused.

  "Think of it as insurance. Just to make sure you come out of this playwhole. Tell you a secret about Noda. With that guy, you know you've gota deal when the check clears."

  "He's a crafty fucker, grant you."

  "You might want to give it some thought. But if you're going to make amove, it's probably now or never. Be the early bird or forget it."

  All this time Tam was looking at me as if I'd gone over the edge. Ibegan to deeply regret not having filled her in on the fallbackscenario.

  The door to Noda's office was now closed, his two guards postedoutside. Guess even a samurai needs some rest and tranquility afterflying halfway around the globe in a chartered Concorde.

  "Well, gotta admit it's an idea." Jim Bob continued to weaveunsteadily. His motor mechanisms were now on automatic, along with hisvenal corn-pone brain.

  "Matt, what in hell are you doing?" Tam was pulling me back into theoffice.

  "Stay cool. Swordsmanship is like Zen. You can't ever let your mind getattached to anything. Do that and you're stuck; your mind stays withthe past and makes you neglect what lies ahead. So I figure the bestthing to do here is to adjust to the new 'prevailing conditions.'" Iglanced out at Jim Bob, now just beyond the door and absently hummingsome Waylon Jennings tune as he swayed solo.

  "Well, I want to know what you're up to."

  "Okay, here's the play. While you were setting up your sell-off scheme,I did some fiddling on my own. Remember back when we started out, Ifast-talked Noda into giving me power of attorney? Well, it finallypaid off. Last week I convened an instant shareholders' me
eting forevery company where DNI owns a majority of the stock and personallyvoted through a new set of resolutions."

  "Mind filling me in on what they were?"

  Before I could reply, Jim Bob came dancing in, licking his pale lips."Walton, tell you what. Think I'm gonna go for it."

  "What?" I looked up.

  "That options play. Comes a time you gotta look out for yourself andfuck everybody."

  "That's the kind of thinking made this country what it is today, JimBob. Right on."

  "Fuckin' A, baby." He did a quick dance step. "Go for the gold."

  "You know, as long as we're at it, how about a little piece of theaction for me too? Nothing big. Just a couple of bucks for old times'sake."

  "Why the hell not!" He let out a whoop as he turned and headed for aterminal. "Give you sloppy seconds on this one, ace. Just long as I getfirst pop."

  "Matt, I don't know what you're up to, but I'll kill you if you starthelping him." She looked like she would too.

  "You know, you once said you wanted to drive a stake into DNI's heart."I turned back. "Well, this is your chance. But we've got to get movingand do it before Noda catches on."

  Whereupon we joined Jim Bob in front of his monitor. He was now busypulling up quotes for March calls on the Chicago Board OptionsExchange, the CBOE. He checked them over, then got on the phonedirectly to the market makers on the floor. When you're operating inhyperdrive, you don't dawdle around with brokers.

  "Jim Bob, while you're doing that, I think I'll just start setting upthe buy orders for the stock. If we want to move prices, we've got tohave coordination."

  "Yahoo. Let's kick some ass." He'd just entered a wholly new dimensionof exuberance. "Shit fire and save your matches; fuck a duck and seewhat hatches."

  My sentiments precisely. I started scrolling up DNI's

  portfolio of high-tech securities, looking for the biggies. If thingswent as planned, our screwing of Matsuo Noda was definitely going to bememorable.

  Now Jim Bob was chortling quietly to himself as he punched up morenumbers, moving on to bilk options traders on the AMEX.

  "Matthew, you'd better finish explaining what you're up to." Tam wasstanding behind me, her hand gripping my shoulder.

  "Look, we have to do this fast. Switch a beat on Noda, break hisrhythm. Just trust me."

  "My favorite word." She didn't move.

  "Now"--I pointed to a column of green numbers on the left-hand side ofthe screen--"are those the percentage holdings DNI has?"

  "Looks correct."

  They were about what I remembered. DNI's positions varied from aroundfifty percent to the low sixties.

  "Okay." I turned to face her. "Which of these do you want to knock outfirst? There may not be time to torpedo them all."

  "What are you going to do?" She was frowning, but I could tell the ideahad appeal.

  "Set dynamite under them. Just blow them sky-high."

  "How?"

  "Using an obscure corporate anti-takeover tactic not many people knowabout yet. Jim Bob's right. We're going to make history. Nobody's everdone this on the scale you're about to witness. Just pick the stocksyou want detonated first, but please hurry." I shoved a pen and paperat her, then turned to watch Jim Bob, now dancing around with a phonein his ear, still buying calls on the old DNI portfolio. "How're wedoing over there, chief?"

  "Don't want to push March too hard, tip off the market, so I'm pickingup some Junes too." He yelled my way, "We're going long, baby."

  "Jim Bob, I was just wondering. Don't you think you ought to hedge alittle, just in case? Maybe buy a few puts to cover the downside?"

  "With the kind of volatility I'm about to goose into this market?You're starting to sound like some pussy, Walton. Get naked, go native.Only way to fly." He did a twirl, then a kick. "Just buckle in, dude,cause I'm gonna take that Jap money and pump my underlying stocks rightinto orbit. This play's a lock, taking money from a baby."

  "Well, I wasn't blessed with your brand of raw courage, Jim Bob. Sowhat do you say I do a little hedging for you? We'll be partners. I'llcover the downside with my own money, assuming I've got any left. I'llbuy a few puts, and then if these stock prices just decide to go crazyand crash, we can still sell at the current quotes. Protect ourselvesif things head south for some reason."

  "Suit yourself. But that's the best way I can think of to piss awaywhat little 'haircut' you've got left." He was grinning again.

  "Guess I'm a masochist. What can I tell you."

  While my new "partner" was laying the groundwork for his scam, loadingup on options to buy stocks at today's prices just before he turnedaround and shoved enough Japanese money into the market to send themsky-high, I did the opposite. I got on the phone to various brokers,including a currently jubilant Sam Kline, and started buying "at themoney" puts in Amy's name.

  Jim Bob was betting the market would head up, buying calls; I wasbetting it would go down, buying puts. I was laying a wager withanybody in America who would agree, for my front money, to buy a stockfrom me at today's quotes anytime through mid-March, even if the realprice had since dropped to zilch. Which I fully intended to makehappen.

  Insider trading? Well . . . yes. You see, I was literally the only manon earth who actually knew what the stock market was going to do next,after DNI started buying more of those stocks I'd planted with landmines. But I was a driven man just then. Maybe I'd go to jaileventually, but by God Amy would still make college.

  Amy. What was she doing today? I wondered. This was, what? Tuesday? Soshe must be back at school, probably thinking about lunch. Strawberryyogurt and a bar of Tiger's Milk "health" candy. God, I loved thatlittle dark-haired prize more than life itself.

  Where were we headed, she and I? Was I going to learn to let go? Maybethat wasn't going to be the problem, I thought, at least for her. Faceit, I was about to become a fixture, just a stuffy impediment tonature's raging hormones. She'd already started rehearsing femininewiles on me, practicing that coy, downcast glance that didn't quitebreak subliminal eye contact. Where did she learn stuff like that? Andshe almost had it down cold. Next it'll probably be eye shadow andcolored bras.

  Damn. This Christmas was going to be my last real chance to get to knowher, to bore her silly with all my eminently ignorable fatherly advice.And I blew it. That in itself was enough to make me want to deep-sixMatsuo Noda forever, the bastard. The money I fully planned to recoup;her thirteenth Christmas was gone forever.

  With which somber thought, I returned to buying puts. By the time I'dfinished, Tam had her "death wish" list ready. And Jim Bob was justwrapping up his new program of call-option acquisition. Now for phasetwo.

  I strolled over to his monitor, carrying her paper.

  "Jim Bob, these might be a good place to start." I tossed the sheetdown beside his keyboard. "Why not just set up a lot of buy orders tohit the market tomorrow at the opening? Doing it all at once shoulddrive the prices straight up."

  "Right." He leaned back, twitching. "Wonder how much buying it'lltake?"

  "Well, why not play it safe? Use the computer and just boost DNI'shigh-tech portfolio another . . . oh, five percent, straight across theboard. Every issue. Program it and let her rip. You've already gotTam's sell setup. All you have to do is turn it around."

  "Sounds good to me." Now he was swaying to and fro, humming tonelessly.

  "Then let's get rolling. You hit AMEX and the Big Board; Tam and I'llsee if we can't drop orders for a few blocks on Jeffries, the off-exchange network. We have to make waves at the opening bell tomorrow."

  "Hear you talkin'. These issues gotta look like major movers." He wasbeaming from ear to ear as he revolved shakily back to his terminal."Damn if I don't jus' love screwing the market."

  We went to work, and for the next half hour we transmitted buy ordersto the farthest reaches of the globe. Once they were posted, it didn'tmatter when they'd be executed. Even if Noda killed us, a hand from thegrave would come back and destroy him. The time bomb I'd set would blow
the minute the SEC tallied up DNI's new holdings. There were about tobe a lot of rich, happy workers in this Land of the Free. But the oneman certain not to be among their number was Matsuo Noda. Speaking ofwhich . . .

  "Mr. Walton, would you kindly explain what you are doing?"

  I froze, realizing he was standing directly behind my chair. How longhad he been there? I'd been too absorbed to pay attention. Stupid,Walton, extremely stupid.

  "Tell you the truth, Noda-san." I wheeled around and looked him in theeye, shielding the screen. "Sometimes you have to make the best ofthings. Discretion's the better part of valor, so we're told."

  "I'm familiar with the expression." He appeared less than convinced.

  "Who knows? Maybe Nipponica is the way to go." We needed time, just alittle more time. "In any case I'm a firm believer in riding the horsethe direction it's going. So I persuaded Jim Bob to buy a few optionsfor me. Trouble is, the guy's a little tentative on reality just now."

  "Decidedly." He glanced over at our mutual friend, now typing awayobliviously, then turned and moved on toward the water cooler next tomy office. Did he believe me? Maybe he actually thought we would justroll over and give up.

  Or possibly Noda was in that unconscious mind-state that goes alongwith real mastery in swordsmanship. When a Zen archer discharges anarrow, his concentration must never be on that shaft. It must be onnothing. And the same is true with swordsmanship. Your mind must be inits natural state, empty of distractions. So if Noda allowed himself tofocus on the small stuff right now, he'd forfeit his "no mind" edge.

  Well, we were about through anyway. The only thing left was to keep himoccupied just long enough for Jim Bob to finish sending out the last ofour buys.

  "The sword was a masterful idea, Noda-san." I got up and walked over tojoin him. "How'd you manage it?"

  "Mr. Walton, what exactly do you know about the Emperor Antoku'sImperial Sword?" He sipped from a plastic cup, eyes squinting behindhis rimless specs.

  "Probably more than I should."

  'Then you will understand its recovery is a turning point in thehistory of Japan."

  I looked at him and realized he believed it. Actually believed it.Matsuo Noda had become a legend in his own mind. Why tamper withperfection?

  "Have to admit, too, the idea of using our international bank cover togobble up America's blue chips incognito was a stroke of genius.Congratulations. You're about to scare MITI and the rest of Japan halfto death. Not to mention the world. With DNI heading up the management,who knows what could happen? You can probably write your own ticketback home after this."

  "Your friend Dr. Henderson's young colleague was invaluable."

  Was?

  Alas, poor Jim Bob. Did that mean he wasn't going to live long enoughto spend the new fortune he thought he was about to make? Maybe Nodawas planning to do half of my work for me.

  "I guess a few of those phone taps you like so much led you straight tohim, right? You were probably at least a day ahead of everything wedid."

  "Good intelligence is vital to any successful endeavor, Mr. Walton. Youshould remember that from Sun Tzu's classic Art of War."

  The man was right on.

  "All these dummy corporations." I was still running the stall. "Alittle stock bought by each one, the SEC will never suspect. You justroll trades worldwide, till--"

  "As long as necessary."

  "Who knows you're doing this?" Was it possible some rogue financiersuch as Noda really could pull a fast one on the whole world, useJapanese institutional money for whatever he pleased? "Have you clearedthis with the fund managers . . . ?"

  "It was not necessary, Mr. Walton. I have long since earned the trustof my colleagues." Again he had a weird look in his eye. Matsuo Noda, Irealized, was currently operating from a distant planet.

  Needless to say, our dialogue hadn't done a lot to calm my nervoussystem. The obvious solution to Noda's secrecy requirements didn'tinclude a lengthy life span for a lot of loudmouthed gaijin. Time towrap up the stock market games and get back to swordsmanship.

  "At this point there's only one problem left, but I suppose

  you've already thought of it too. If word of this anonymous takeoverbreaks too soon, the exchanges might just decide to shut down tradingand stop you. Which means we're all a threat to you at this point."

  He stood unmoving. "That matter will be addressed presently."

  How soon, I wondered, was "presently"?

  "But haven't you forgotten somebody? Bill Henderson. The man's no fool.The minute he figures out your play, which he surely will, he's goingto start blowing word all over the newspapers. You'll never get awaywith this."

  Noda smiled lightly. "It would be helpful if he were here now. Perhapsyou could be good enough to arrange for it."

  So with Matsuo Noda standing over me, Uzi next to my head, I calledHenderson on my speakerphone. He picked up after eight rings.

  "Bill. Getting rich?"

  "Walton, what time is it? Goddam, you woke me up." He yawned into thereceiver. "Jesus, I feel like hell. What's going on? Everything stilllooking okay?"

  "Couldn't be better. Quite a party around here. Want to come back downand help us celebrate?"

  "Well . . . what the . . . ! It's after eleven already. Hey, let mecheck out the market first. Be down there in a little."

  I looked up as Noda fingered his Uzi. "Just come on over now. Don'tputz around with the market. We could use the company. And Bill . . ."

  "Yeah?"

  "This shindig's BYOB. So how about picking up a fifth of Scotch? Thatway we can all get into the spirit of things here on the eleventhfloor."

  "Walton, that's a hell of a--"

  "I know bringing your own booze is not your style. But why don't youcheck in with Eddie, the security chief downstairs? He always keeps mea bottle of Suntory there in the utility room. See him about it."

  "That Japanese crap. Matt, what are you talking about? You know I hate--"

  "Just ask for Eddie, Bill." I cut him off. "Tell him Matthew Waltonwants his black label Japanese juice sent up here immediately.Understand?"

  I hung up before Henderson could say anything more.

  Such as tell me we both knew there was no such thing as "black label"Suntory.

  "Guess he'll be here shortly." I turned back to Noda.

  "He should be here in no time at all, Mr. Walton. Two of my guards havebeen posted outside his building since he returned there yesterday. Forhis own safety. They will bring him."

  With that chilling bit of news Matsuo Noda proceeded to yank out thephone cord, then head back to his office. The Art of War. You leavenothing to chance. In fact his two sumo heavies were now standingoutside my office, keeping a close eye on us. Guess he no longer hadfull confidence in Jim Bob.

  "Tam, did you catch what just happened?" I'd walked back over to theterminals.

  "I did." She was staring into space.

  "Henderson was our best hope to get out of here alive. He has asuspicious mind the equal of Sherlock Holmes's. But now..."

  "Matt, what's he going to do to us all?"

  "Don't think it'll be pretty."

  "Then . . ." She'd turned and was staring at the security entrance,wearing a quizzical expression.

  I wheeled around to look too, and at first I thought I might have beenhallucinating. A female figure was emerging through the doors, wearingan outfit whose style I couldn't quite place. Maybe it was one of thosebulky creations such as Yohji Yamamoto or some other avant-gardeJapanese designer might dream up, but it didn't resemble anything I'dever seen before. Silk like a kimono, yet with a flowing quality.Ancient almost.

  Then I had a vision, just offbeat enough to fit. An ink illustrationout of the The Tale of Genji flashed before my eyes, and I realized Iwas seeing a _hakama_, something that hadn't been around the streets ofJapan for roughly eight hundred years.

  The woman in it was wearing peculiar makeup, not punk, though it mighthave been. It was pale, like the delicate ink shadings on a Hei
an handscroll. She looked for all the world like a court lady of ages past;she'd have fit right in at some 1185 Heian linked-verse soiree. OldKyoto come to life.

  Is this the latest neo-New Wave? What in good Christ . . .

  The only uncoordinated touch was the handbag, leather and starklymodern, with a lock attached.

  Jim Bob gave her a glazed stare as she moved right past him, headed forus. The sumo pair was bowing to the floor.

  Well, well, the Emperor's most devoted courtier had finally arrived.Into our presence on this day of days had returned none other than Ms.Akira Mori. One look at her eyes told me she'd come to kill somebody.