Linnear 01 - The Ninja (69 page)

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Authors: Eric van Lustbader

BOOK: Linnear 01 - The Ninja
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Saigo unwrapped from his waist a long nylon cord, weighted on one end by a small, sharp triangular hook. He looked up, studying the sides of the atrium though he already knew them quite well. He found what he was looking for and began to twirl the weighted cord about his head.

He let it go and it shot high into the atrium, arcing around a

transverse iron beam. It was close enough to the wall so that, as he flung himself upwards, he was swung inwards by his momentum. He drew his legs up so that the soles of his shoes faced outwards. He felt the impact as the spiked foot pads dug into the pitted face of the pseudo-marble facing.

This was one of the most ancient of ninjutsu techniques, used for centuries in infiltrating an enemy’s castle stronghold. Mere walls, no matter how sheer, could not confound a ninja.

Upwards he went with appalling rapidity. A fly on the wall, he was quite invisible to those below, even had they chanced to look this far up. He had, once again, total security.

To the shocked and bewildered men on the atrium’s floor it was as if. he had vanished into thin air and this was what they reported to Croaker via walkie-talkie.

The hallucinogen was raging full force within him. His involvement with his immediate environment was total. He could see-smell-taste-hear-feel simultaneously as he crawled up the wall.

Small sounds, brittle and three-dimensional, drifted to him from below, funnelled by the peculiar acoustics. It was curious because he could hear specific sounds with more clarity from this vantage point than he might have if he were still down below: voices talking, shoes pounding against the cool flooring as they called for the ambulances. Do you no good, he thought. Talking, unanswered. The walkie-talkie, he thought. No matter.

The fine dust of his passage took to the slowly swirling air, a minute, ineffectual cyclone passing through the light.

There was silence on the top floor; this was Nicholas’s doing; this was why he had insisted that none of Croaker’s men be on the floor. Sound was his greatest potential enemy now.

‘I want you,’ he had said to Tomkin some time before, ‘to face away from him when he comes. Do you think you can do that ?’ Because it was a most difficult thing to turn your back on someone who meant to kill you. But this was essential. Nicholas was afraid of what the Kuji-fyri might do to Tomkin. Kick out the glass and take one last step down, that was only one possibility.

‘Yes, I can do it.’

He heard the fear shivering Tomkin’s voice and wondered again at it.

‘Is that where you’re going to stand when he comes?’

‘Don’t worry about that. Just remember what I’ve told you. If you do anything else, chances are you’ll be dead before you know it. This is no time to think about being in control.’

‘What can you know about that?’ Part of his fear, Tomkin realized belatedly, was that somehow he had recognized a kind of a kindred spirit in Linnear. He had neither the knowledge nor the insight to understand in what way this was so, only knew that it was. This was a deadly man, a sort of a raw animal spirit held in check by a thin veneer of civilization. Tomkin shuddered to think of what might happen if that veneer should crack apart. Perhaps that was why he wanted to trust Linnear with his secrets yet could never bring himself so to unburden himself. Kindred they were and he judged Nicholas in the same light as he judged himself. He would do anything to preserve himself thus -

‘I know all about that. I’ve been too much in control all my life. That’s hard to take. Callouses don’t grow on hands.’

‘What do you mean?’ But already he suspected that he knew.

‘I feel like my head’s been full of novocaine for years.’ He paused for a moment, his head cocked at an angle as if listening to a far-off sound, and Tomkin felt his guts turn to water. Was he coming already? Dear God but he wanted to make a break for the bathroom 1

‘Your daughter’s a very special person.’

‘Who, Justine?’ Tomkin snorted, feeling better now that he was on safe ground again. ‘Sure, if you call loony special. I don’t.’

‘You really are a fool, aren’t you?’ There was a small silence as they glared across the darkened room at each other. Nicholas wondered if Croaker had overheard all of this and was chuckling to himself.

‘It’s all a matter of opinion, isn’t it?’ Tomkin said, backing off somewhat. It would not do to have Linnear angry with him now. ‘I mean, I’ve been through a lot with her. You’ve only known her a short time. But, listen ‘ - he tapped a forefinger on the desk top - ‘I told you where she was, didn’t I? I helped you find her. I want you two to make it. I’ve told you that and I

mean it. You’re good for her. Your strength can keep her from going back -‘

‘You don’t know her at all,’ Nicholas said. ‘She’s got more strength than a lot of men I know.’ He let that hang in the air. Had it been a glove thrown down at Tomkin’s feet? If so, Tom-kin chose to ignore it as such.

‘Perhaps there has been some change. I haven’t seen her for some time, I’ll grant you that. I suppose I still think of her as the baby of the family. Gelda, my oldest, always seemed so much more capable of taking care of herself, even when they were both much younger. She was always so much more social than Justine.’ Oh yes, social. He had to laugh at that. Women fucking women. My God, where had she picked that up? ‘I am afraid we aren’t exactly a closely knit family.’ How in hell could we be? ‘There is little sense of family loyalty among my daughters. I regret that most bitterly but it’s to be expected, I suppose. When there is not enough time’ - Nicholas could sense the shrug in the dark of the office - ‘the children inevitably turn away from their parents, find others who can satisfy their needs.’ The finger stopped tapping, hung suspended for a time in the air. ‘I imagine you could say that both my daughters are arrested adolescents in a sense. Ah well.’

No one had uttered a word for some time. The silence seemed absolute, totally antithetical to what one comes to expect in any big city. The outside did not exist for any of them. Here they were sealed into a violent world of their own manufacture where the laws of the world did not apply. Now dark and bloody gods stalked these corridors as they did the warren chambers of the Great Pyramid of Cheops. Years falling away like crimson leaves whirled in an autumn storm.

Coming, thought Nicholas. At last he’s coming.

He was born into the element earth. Dai-en-tyo-chi, as the Aty i ninjutsu had taught him: ‘Great-round-mirror-wisdom.’ This was his strength and he began the Shit-ji, the seed-word mantra that would bring him to the final state of preparedness, the death-and-night-and-blood that was ninjutsu combat.

And in the instant following the tiny sound of Saigo’s leap onto the top floor, he heard that most unique sound in all the world as he drew his katana from its sheath.

Croaker, you bastard, Nicholas thought, you had better stay out of this. You have been warned. This is between Saigo and me and God help anyone who gets in the way.

Movement on the floor. No one heard but Nicholas. Haragei. He could feel the adept’s approach. Like an itchy finger in the night, his senses felt the approach. He wore only a lightweight black silk shirt and cotton trousers. He gripped the katana with both hands, standing in the attitude of Happo Biral^i, ‘Open on all eight sides’, a technique developed by Miyamoto Musashi more than three centuries before. There was no possible kenjutsu opening for attack. This had been proved long before he had been born.

Energy flowed through him like the current from a generator. The night beat on like a separate heart, with a will of its own, following a destiny no one could yet know.

He saw everything now as segments of a whole, parts fitting into the topography of the floor. The furniture: height, length, depth; fixtures, hangings; the world shrunken into a series of severely confined spaces within which would now take place the dance of death begun so many years ago.

A shadow shifted and Nicholas knew that Saigo was in the narrow hall. He leaped across the room, his katana held high above his head, a scream beginning in the recesses of his chest.

His nostrils flared and in mid-air he tumbled head over heels away from the hallway opening. He had caught the smell of it even before he had heard the soft click as it rolled along the floor.

The bathroom door was open and he used that. There was very little light but the percussion, abetted by the confined space, was awesome. He sensed Tomkin leaping to his feet, turning around.

Saigo was already in the room, moving at full velocity, using the noise of the blast for cover. He headed straight for Tomkin.

‘Get away from me!’ Tomkin cried, raising his hands defensively. He could be dead ten different ways, he realized, before he could draw and fire his gun. ‘He’s over there!’ He pointed frantically to where Nicholas was standing.

Saigo said nothing, but his eyes blazed with a kind of cold fury that sent a tremor of terror through Tomkin’s thighs. For the first time in his life he contemplated the coming of death as

a real and substantial force. I am already dead, he thought, seeing an element in Saigo’s face which, perhaps, had no place in this world. It might have been, had he believed in such a thing, Lucifer himself come to snatch him. He saw the terrible glint of light off the steel claws, extending from the left hand which was raised, beginning its thrust forward towards his chest where a fire burned already.

Then, in less time than, it seemed to him, the blink of an eye, the ninja was knocked sideways, across the floor towards the windows.

Nicholas, his right shoulder lowered, ran lightly after the spinning body, his tytana held before him in a two-handed grip.

Saigo tumbled head over heels, came up on his feet facing Nicholas. He withdrew his own katana with his left hand, made a flicking movement with his right.

Nicholas ducked and leapt at the same time. Something no more than the size of a pea arced high into the air. It bounced once on the floor directly in front of-the desk. But Saigo had been slightly off balance when he had tossed it and, on the rebound, the thing hit the overhang of the desk top and, instead of landing behind it, bounced back in front of it.

As it was, the mini-blast blew Nicholas’s katana from his grasp as it tore away most of the front of the desk, ripping up the carpeting.

Immediately Saigo hurled himself towards Nicholas, who was still scrambling away from the percussion of the explosion.

In the periphery of his vision, Nicholas saw Saigo coming. He was vulnerable and he knew it. No textbook defence was possible from his position, not against someone as skilled as Saigo. His decision was made in a split second. He propelled his body obliquely upwards, using his palms, arms and shoulders for power, and, twisting, his soles caught Saigo’s fingers as they curled around the hilt of his tytana. The angle added to the natural force of the blow and the weapon spun out of his grip and away.

Saigo landed with the claw first and Nicholas countered with sword-strikes to the liver and spleen, missing, but deflecting the attack at the same time.

It was the heart-kite Saigo immediately strove for. Beside the

fact that it was lethal, it had the added advantage of forcing a break in a stalemate, a situation that would benefit Nicholas more because of the time factor. Every added second that Saigo took here made the get-out that much more difficult.

Saigo ignored the serpent-strike to his clavicle, biting back on the pain and concentrating on what he had to do. He was on top, part of him stunned by the mode of Nicholas’s hand-to-hand defence. It was, in part, ninjutsu but of a kind he had never before encountered. Could it be AJ(a i ninjutsu? he thought wildly. That would be in character. By the Amida I It was ninja against ninja.

He worked out of the four-hands-lock Nicholas had pressed on him and was ready now. For the heart-kite. In less time than it took to think about it,- Nicholas would be dead, training or no training.

He jerked away and down as the whine of a bullet passed through the air where his head had been moments ago. Amida! There was another one up here. He cursed himself mightily for becoming so involved with his new knowledge of Nicholas. It was this that had kept him from discerning the third man. Now where was he?

But Nicholas had thrown him the tettsui-to and hid already tied him up sufficiently for him to divert his full attention here.

With a frantic effort, he fought Nicholas off and bounded to where he had left his katana. Nicholas was after him in a flash, extending his body fully, wrapping his fingers around Saigo’s powerful ankles. They crashed together into the drawing-board. Saigo picked up his t(atana. Anodier bullet richocheted off the corner of the board, spewing splinters into his face, and he rolled away, cursing.

Nicholas went for the sword arm, mindful of all the many shaken he knew might pop into his face at any time. He went immediately into the air-sea change to dirow Saigo off balance, for he had heard, as he knew his opponent had, the soft hum of the elevator working and when it arrived, he knew, Croaker’s men might take no chances this time but flood the floor with tear gas the moment the doors opened.

Saigo knew that he was at the extreme end of his time limit. A new factor had been added that he had not counted on.

Nicholas needed nothing more than a stalemate while he, on the other hand -

He attacked high with a rapid series of strikes aimed for Nicholas’s oesophagus, but he was balked and he began to sweat hard. His mind raced but kept coming back to the same point. If both were out of the question, he would have to be content with one and plan for the other later. There was no question of choice.

He let a pair of blows in and doubled over, feigning more pain than he felt. His right hand, in cover, darted within his belt, palming another tiny sphere,. This time he must make no error of judgement in his throw.

He turned his head fractionally to get a fix on Tomkin’s position and that was when Nicholas knew. He threw himself from his opponent at the same time as Saigo launched the sphere, diving across the desktop, slamming into the immobile Tomkin just as he heard the tiny popping sound behind him. As he pushed Tomkin out of the way, he kicked the massive high-backed chair backwards. At about the same instant, he caught the sound of a shot and what sounded like a high crack of thunder. He hit the floor just as the explosion came.

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