The timing worked. Their informants had said that the ambassador was having a meeting with a group of businessmen, lobbyists, and other various Imperium teat-suckers and hangers on. The folks raking in that fat Imperium money probably wanted to make sure the assassination attempt wasn’t their benefactor’s doing, and if it was, that it wouldn’t hurt the bottom line. Security would be tight because of this, but it would also put a lot of westerners and potential witnesses on the property. That might keep things from turning ugly.
At least the Imperium wouldn’t be expecting their most hated enemies to show up on the doorstep.
The compound was relatively isolated, and even though the county was crowded with over twenty thousand residents, the Japanese had bought up quite a bit of land to keep it that way. The ambassador’s residence was an impressive new construction. Three stories tall, with no expense spared, and designed by some famous architect, it looked like a proper residence for the representative of a rich and growing empire. Surrounded by a twelve-foot brick wall, the property took up several acres, complete with its own small orchard, a fish pond, and a sandbox that it was said the ambassador liked to draw circles in for some odd reason.
Sullivan was riding shotgun while Dan drove the stolen Ford Hyperion. It had been the only vehicle they had access to that was swanky enough to fit in. They pulled onto the lane and rolled toward the gate. Lance was parked a quarter mile back in his truck. Lance was Plan B. Jane was waiting in another car on a different street. An extra getaway vehicle never hurt, plus she could put them back together, provided they lived that long.
Sullivan eyed the men at the gatehouse. They were Americans, which surely made the neighbors more comfortable. Probably hired guns to keep out anti-Imperium protestors. The real protection would be inside. “You got this?”
“Easy as pie.” Dan rolled down his window and applied the brakes. The gateman was dressed in a blue uniform with gold piping. “Good evening,” Dan proclaimed. “We’re here for the meeting with the ambassador. Please let us through.”
Sullivan could feel the slight vibration in his head. The Mouth was pushing hard. Dan’s Power wasn’t even aimed at him, but the words made Sullivan feel like they were supposed to be here.
The gateman blinked a few times, confused. The smarter somebody was, the more difficult they were to Influence. “And you are?”
Dan turned it up, hard. “You’ve seen us a bunch of times. We’re here constantly, real regular visitors. You like us because we tip generously. In fact, I’m tipping you now. You just stuck twenty whole dollars in your pocket. Aren’t we swell? Now open the gate.”
“Thank you, sir!” the gateman snapped to and hurried for the controls.
Dan rolled the window back up. Sullivan chuckled. “He’ll be feeling dumb when he can’t find that twenty-dollar bill later.”
“He wants a tip? Don’t work for the Imperium.” The gate rolled open and Dan drove them through. “We think the ambassador was an Iron Guard once, and there should be at least one other one posted here.”
“This reliable?”
“General Pershing seemed to think so before he passed away. We were told he was off limits, though. Diplomatic courtesy.”
“Odd to be holding a war and still have things like courtesy.”
“The general wasn’t fond of the notion, but we couldn’t start openly assassinating their diplomats or they’d start doing it to Americans overseas.”
They pulled up in front of the mansion. Ten other cars were parked there already. Many of the nicer automobiles had curtains over the back windows to protect their valuable clients’ privacy. Some folks loved taking Imperium money, but they sure didn’t want the rest of the world to know about it.
There was something that had been nagging at Sullivan’s mind. “Dan, I know you really want to get even for Heinrich, but—”
“I know, I know. Finding out about the Enemy is more important. These are Iron Guard we’re talking about, though. What’re the odds of us getting out of here without a fight?”
“We’re about to find out.” Two men approached Dan’s window. These were Japanese, wearing black uniforms with the blue sash of the diplomatic corps. Young and fit, well-trained soldiers by the look of them. “Ready?”
“No, but too late now,” Dan said. “Lance?”
There was a tiny squeak from inside Dan’s shirt that sounded like an affirmative.
One of the guards opened Dan’s door and he stepped out. The first guard bowed respectfully toward the Mouth. However there were other figures standing further back in the shadows with their hands inside their uniforms, and they sure as hell weren’t bowing.
Dan cleared his throat. “We are here to speak to the ambassador.”
The soldier’s manner was politely suspicious as he looked Dan over. Daniel Garret didn’t look like much of a threat. Then the soldier looked into the car and gave Sullivan the eye. Now he looked like a threat. The soldier turned back to Dan and asked, “Who are you, and what is your business here?”
Now came the dangerous part. They had talked it over. Dan’s Power was immense, but the more wary the subject, the more difficult it was to Influence him. The goal was to get in to see an Iron Guard, so they’d decided to do something completely crazy.
“We’re Grimnoir knights.” The first soldier bellowed something in Japanese. A dozen pistols were drawn and pointed their way. Orders were shouted. Runners left to summon reinforcements. The guard at Sullivan’s window tapped the glass with the square barrel of a 9mm Nambu. Sullivan took that as an invitation, so he slowly opened the door and climbed out with his hands raised. Dan waited for the commotion to die down before continuing. “We come in peace with a message for your Iron Guard.”
“Grimnoir only speak in lies!”
“That’s for your superiors to decide,” Dan answered. “not you.”
“Give me this message.”
“No.”
“I will convey it to them.”
“I’ll only speak with the ambassador or the Iron Guard.”
“You will do as I say or die!”
“We die and your superiors are going to wonder what brought Grimnoir into this nest of snakes, and you won’t be able to tell them. Besides, you’re not going to shoot us with all those businessmen in there. The ambassador would lose face.”
That obviously got under his skin. “I should cut your heads off and decorate the gates with them.”
Sullivan decided to be direct. “That bullshit may fly in Manchuria when you’re slicing up unarmed Chinamen, but you’re in America now.”
The first soldier snarled and jammed his pistol into Dan’s gut.
“Whoa, easy, pal!” Dan exclaimed. “Jake, would you kindly let me do the talking?”
“When you crossed that gate you stepped onto Imperium soil. Your pathetic ways mean nothing in these walls. Once the Chairman leads us to victory—”
“I thought you said the blue sash meant they were diplomatic?” Sullivan was losing his patience, and there wasn’t much to begin with. “Nothing diplomatic about a bunch of punks throwing their weight around.”
The soldier left Dan and walked toward Sullivan. “You dare to speak to an Imperium marine in such a way?”
“Yeah, you boys are mighty impressive. I only managed to kill twenty or so onboard the Tokugawa, right before I killed my brother, the man you called Madi.” There were gasps from the assembled guards. The muzzle of the soldier’s gun was pushed against his neck. Sullivan didn’t even flinch. “Get your boss. We didn’t come here to waste time yakking with the help.”
Some of the guards began to argue amongst themselves. Apparently there wasn’t protocol in place for dealing with despised Grimnoir knights just showing up and announcing themselves.
“What are you doing, Jake?” Dan slowly asked.
“Diplomacy.”
A larger figure appeared in the shadows of the ambassador’s house. A harsh command was barked in Japanese. Sullivan did
n’t speak the language, but it had to be the equivalent to stand down, because the guns were immediately lowered. The first soldier stepped back and bowed his head, but kept his hate-filled eyes on Sullivan.
The new arrival stomped into the light. He was extremely tall for a Japanese, probably six foot, and every bit as muscular as Sullivan. Even his humorless face was square from the thick muscles of his jaw. Probably only in his late twenties, he was dressed like a westerner, in a black suit and tie, with the only Imperial affectation being the blue sash of the diplomatic corps. Too small for his face, his eyes were extremely dark and piercingly intelligent. Sullivan could sense the Power on this one. It seemed to hang in the air, dangerous.
The elite of the Imperium forces, each Iron Guard was an Active trained from their youth in brutal schools dedicated to war, then magically augmented with as many spells as their bodies could bear. Between magic, muscle, skill, and training, the Iron Guard were human tanks.
The Iron Guard stopped and gave Dan the once over, then moved on to Sullivan, whom he took the time to size up. “I trained with Madi once. It is obvious you are his blood.”
“Folks always said we looked alike, before he lost half his face anyway.”
“All of you Americans look the same to me, doughy and clumsy. No, I could tell because you share his loutishness, disrespect toward others, and lack of decorum.” He turned to the guards. “Search them.”
The pat-down was quick. He’d known that was probably coming and had left his piece with Lance. Thinking of . . . Sullivan looked over, but Dan seemed relatively calm. Lance had already made his move. Good.
“I’m Jake Sullivan.”
“I know who you are. You are the Heavy that defeated Master Rokusaburo.” The Iron Guard actually gave a small bow out of respect. “An impressive feat. He was one of my teachers and a skilled warrior. Nothing would please me more than to test your strength myself, but out of curiosity, I will honor your request for an audience. I am Toru of the Iron Guard, warrior of the Imperium, and servant of the Emperor of Nippon. Please come inside. I welcome you to our home as guests. We shall join the ambassador over tea.”
Toru gave more orders in Japanese. The guards formed up, several in front, and several behind, guns still in hand. Toru motioned them toward the entrance. Dan fell in beside Sullivan and they followed.
“Seems like a polite sort,” Dan whispered, “for an Imperium killing machine.”
“One more thing.” Toru paused at the door. “As guests, you need to be aware that if you filthy Grimnoir try anything, I will gladly stomp you like the vermin you are.” He nodded politely. “For yes, I am an Imperium killing machine. Please do not forget it nor mistake my courtesy for patience. After you.”
“Sincere too,” Dan said.
The heavy door opened from the inside. It was thick enough to withstand a battering ram. Two more guards bowed to Toru, then stepped quickly out of the way.
Dan whistled. The home was one step below palace. Sullivan had never been to Japan, but could only assume that the ambassador’s mansion had been decorated to match the styles of his homeland. Everything was very clean and simple, carved and darkly polished wood, starkly simple paintings, all illuminated by electric light fixtures designed to look like lanterns. He hated to admit that he liked it, as he didn’t want to like anything from the culture that had spawned the likes of the Chairman and his eugenic evil.
If the goal was to impress visitors with the wealth of the Imperium, they’d certainly succeeded. The mansion was so large that there were rows of trees and an orderly garden planted in a giant room under a long skylight. The center of the place was like a little swath of peaceful forest. Guards watched them from every door and corner as their contingent walked by, many with Arisaka submachine guns slung over their shoulders.
“You sure got a lot of men here, Mr. Toru.”
“The embassy is a busy place,” their host replied. “Thus we require a sufficiently large diplomatic staff.” There had to be at least a platoon of hardened “diplomatic staff” present. It would not have been surprising if it turned out there was an extensive armory somewhere on the property either. This many shock troops could cause quite the ruckus in the capital city if open war were to break out.
The sounds of a noisy dinner came from the other end of the mansion. Toru was leading them away from the ambassador’s guests. That wasn’t a good sign.
They reached the end of the interior orchard. “Through here.”
It was a conference room. A long table was surrounded by plush chairs. The walls were covered with silk screens and images from the history of Japan. Sullivan was tempted to use his Power to feel what was hiding behind those screens, but he could safely assume that it was more men with guns pointed at them, and even the slightest tingle of magic might be enough to set them off. There was a map of the United States on the wall with red pins dotting it, but Toru quickly pulled a silk screen over to block it from view before Sullivan could memorize the locations. Toru gestured toward the table. “Be seated. The ambassador will arrive shortly.”
The knights pulled out chairs at one end and sat quietly. Dan was sweating. Sullivan admired the paintings of samurai, funny looking-castles, maidens talking to skinny dragons, and waited. The Iron Guard and his men stood behind them.
The ambassador joined them a minute later. He was very old, thin to the point of being bony, with an impressive mustache that was deftly waxed into points. Since he’d been entertaining guests, the blue sash crossing his suit was covered in medals and ribbons. A guard pulled out the chair at the head of the table. The ambassador sat and placed his hands on the table, looking completely ambivalent about the knights presence.
The two sides watched each other without speaking. Serving girls in kimonos appeared, set down cups, and filled them with steaming tea. Sullivan had been told the Imperium had a complicated ceremony for drinking tea, but apparently they were skipping the ceremony tonight. The girls fled behind the screens just as silently as they’d come in. Neither Grimnoir drank the tea.
“You are knights?” The ambassador’s voice was surprisingly high pitched.
“We are,” Dan answered.
“Are you here about the attempt against your president?”
“That depends. Was it you?”
“Your government has already decided that we were not involved.”
“They decided the same thing about Mar Pacifica.”
The ambassador gave a slight nod. “I have been told that the assassin was a Grimnoir.”
“Then you were told wrong.”
“You were among those that attacked the Tokugawa?”
“We were.”
“I see . . .”
The ambassador didn’t appear threatening in the least, but if the rumor was correct, then he was, or had been, an Iron Guard, which meant that he was exceedingly dangerous. Most people would have thought of Dan Garrett as innocuous too, but get him motivated and the Mouth could talk you into blowing your own brains out. The reedy little ambassador probably had something similar up his baggy silk sleeves.
There. It was just the gentlest of nudges in his head. Sullivan could barely feel it, but there was another presence skimming the surface of his thoughts, just testing the waters. Somebody was subtly trying to Read them. The Active must have been behind the screens . . . No. Sullivan recognized the concentration hiding behind the nonchalant mask. The ambassador was a Reader, and he was good.
“You admit to attacking the Imperium flagship . . . Yet, you dare come here?” The ambassador stroked his moustache thoughtfully. “Tell me why I should not simply have you killed?”
“The Enemy has returned.”
“Enemy?”
“The thing that pursues the Power across worlds. We understand the Chairman was something of an expert on it.”
The ambassador paused to take a sip of tea. “I was not aware the Grimnoir held such superstitions.”
Sullivan spoke. “The Chairman’s g
host told me.”
Gently, the ambassador set the tea cup down. “Such rumors . . . I’m afraid you are mistaken. The Chairman is in Edo, alive and well as only an immortal can be. It seems you have risked your lives for nothing.”
“He told me the Pathfinder is almost here, and that Dark Ocean is the key to stopping it.”
The ambassador would have been an excellent poker player. His eyes flicked over to the Iron Guard and then back to them. “How do you know of such things?”
“You’re a Reader. See for yourself.”
Caught, there was no point in being discreet, and the ambassador used more Power. Sullivan felt the intrusion, but rather than fighting it as instinct demanded, he concentrated on remembering the Chairman’s phone call as clearly as possible.
The ambassador must have been well trained to not display any emotions, because he almost pulled it off, but now there was a hint of fear breaking through the mask. He looked to Toru and the guards. “Leave us, all of you.” There was a rustling as the Iron Guard shifted nervously and asked something in Japanese. “That is unnecessary. Leave.”
Toru was obviously distressed over this development, but he did as he was commanded. The Iron Guard gave the order and the troops filed out. Doors slid closed behind the screens.
Once the doors were closed, the ambassador wasted no time in dropping the polite act. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.
“You tell us,” Dan said.
“I’ll have none of your trickery, knight.”
“I was there. Your Chairman was blown to kingdom come.”
“You will not deceive me. Baron Tokugawa cannot die.” He spoke with the fervor of a zealot. “Nothing can harm him.”
“He knows,” Sullivan said. “You know the Chairman’s dead, don’t you?”
“I know nothing of the sort.”
Dan shook his head. Mouths tended to be good judges of character, even when they weren’t burning Power. “You suspected it, then . . . Look, I don’t know what the Imperium’s game is, but you need to alert your people or you need to tell us how to take care of this Pathfinder ourselves.”