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bun； in the pany of a half…Japanese； half…Vietnamese woman who may or may not have been involved in corporate espionage against his pany and a young； ambitious Yakuza oyabun； steeped in the lore of the tanjian。 Wasn't there anyone but Lew and Tanzan Nangi whom he could trust？
〃As long as you're in a confessional frame of mind；〃 he said； 〃you can tell me if you have any doubts about Tachi Shidare。〃
Seiko did not immediately reply。 He could hear her rummaging around the room； but he did not turn to look at her。 At length； she appeared at his side； dressed but as yet unmade…up。
〃Tachi is not like the other oyabun。〃
〃You mean he's not infatuated with being beyond the law？ He's not obsessed with power and influence？〃
She put her head down。 She stood close to him； but he knew she was aware of the deep gulf between them。 He had hurt her； perhaps irrevocably； by so harshly voicing his suspicions and then not believing her。 But that couldn't be helped now。 The situation they were in … the need to find Okami before his enemies finished their order of assassination； the necessity to discover the nature of Torch 315 before it was unleashed on the ides of March … overrode any personal considerations。
〃No。 I didn't mean。。。 Of course； he's like them in those respects。 But。。。 let me tell you a story。 I was waiting on tables at my mother's akachochin when he found me。 He set me up in business in Tokyo so I could hone my skills。〃 She reached out to touch Nicholas； then； her hand in midair； thought better of it。
〃I will tell you this now because I know that I must。 I cannot bear your distance。 Your distrust is like a knife blade through my heart； and toward morning when you tossed in your sleep and said her name； 'Koei；' my soul shriveled like a leaf in autumn。〃
〃Forget Koei。〃
〃But how can I？ Because she was someone in your past？ But it was she who you dreamed about last night when you could have had my flesh…and…blood arms around you。〃
〃It was a dream； nothing more。〃
〃You ejaculated against my stomach when you said her name。〃
He gazed down at her with an ashen face。 How long would Koei haunt him？ As long as he remained in the pany of Yakuza？ No； no； impossible。 Her memory must be put to rest。
There were tears standing in the ers of Seiko's eyes； and she bit her lower lip in order not to burst into tears。 〃It was Tachi who sent me to interview for the job as your assistant。 It was a wonderful job and I was so grateful to him。 Then came the request to be the middleman between Masamoto Goei and Vincent Tinh。〃
〃Then the story you told me earlier about how you saw me at Nangi's club was a lie。〃
〃No； not a lie； just not the。。。 entire truth。〃 She took a breath。 〃I wanted to approach you myself； but I was paralyzed with fright。 What if you rejected me？ I was sure I couldn't bear that。 So I did nothing。 But I spoke of you to Tachi； and several months later he told me there was an opening for your assistant。 He urged me on； prepared me for the interview。〃
〃So by that time Tachi had moved from Kumamoto to Tokyo。 He was working for Tomoo Kozo。〃
Seiko nodded。 〃He was smart； everyone knew that； and he rose quickly in the ranks of the Yamauchi。 It wasn't long before he had Kozo's ear。 Kozo liked him； I think； because he knew Southeast Asia； soon enough he began running that sector for the clan。〃 Despite her best efforts； tears were rolling down her cheeks。 〃Tachi is obsessed with infiltrating Floating City。 Don't ask me why； I don't know。 But now I've told you everything。 I'm empty； except for my guilt over my brother's death and my love for you。〃
〃The fact is you know next to nothing about Tachi。 You see his direction as a kindness when it might very well be nothing but artifice。〃 There came a discreet knock on the door； but he ignored it。 〃What if he trained you； deliberately set you up to interview for a job inside my pany？〃
Then the sliding fusuma was swept aside and Tachi was standing in the hallway； looking at them both。
〃Time for breakfast；〃 he said cheerily。
〃Hey； you look great in a uniform； you know that？〃
Croaker； striding purposefully toward Gate 19 in the International Departures Lounge of Dulles Airport； was brought up short。
〃Yeah；〃 said Bad Clams Leonforte。 〃You look like you belong in one of those ads； you know； 'Fly the friendly skies'。 〃
〃Wrong airline；〃 Croaker said； looking beyond Leonforte。 He was anxious to get on his flight。 Besides； he couldn't stand the sight of the man。 But he had threatened to put a bullet through Margarite's head if Croaker didn't cooperate； and Croaker had to grit his teeth in order to keep himself in check。
〃No； really。 A million bucks。 I oughta think about having a pilot's uniform made for me。 My mistress would sure get a kick out of it。 I can imagine …〃
〃I'm late。 What are you doing here？〃
The wide； mad grin。 The hands spread wide。 〃Why； I'm looking after you； Lew。〃 He gestured； the image of sartorial elegance in his putty…colored Armani suit； a camel…hair overcoat thrown across his shoulders。 His 600 loafers gleamed in the airport lights。 〃C'mon； we're gonna have a little talk。〃
〃Much as that fills me with delight； I can't。 Some other time； maybe。〃
〃Now。〃 That dark band of red flickered in Leonforte's eyes as his jaunty grin disappeared。 〃What do you think； I'm gonna make you late for your plane？ Forgetaboutit。 It won't go anywhere without you； I promise。 It's got highly valuable cargo； right？ And I got influence。〃
Croaker could see at least three of Leonforte's gorillas lounging around the terminal at strategic locations。 It was all very professional； this box they had him in。 He allowed Bad Clams to lead him through a door that read AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY。
He found himself in a spartan…looking room without windows。 An old swayback sofa in green Naugahyde； three or four chairs； and a folding table on which stood a coffeemaker； paper cups； plastic stirrers； sugar； Sweet'N'Low； and Cremora made the place seem cheap and mean。
〃All the forts of home；〃 Bad Clams said； expansive again。 His changes of mood were abrupt enough to give you whiplash； Croaker thought。 〃Christ； you'd think they'd treat their pilots better than this。〃 He ran his fingers through his tangle of curling hair as he swung around to face Croaker。 〃So how's it hanging？〃
〃Fine。 Just let me do my job without your greasy fingers getting caught in the gears。〃
〃Touchy； touchy。〃 Bad Clams waved a forefinger。 〃You gotta learn to take my fraternal interest in you in the spirit in which it's offered。〃
〃e off this crap； will you。 It's bad enough you have me over a barrel without my having to put up with this circus sideshow。〃
He knew it was a mistake when he said it； but this man set his teeth on edge。 Bad Clams was in his face in one long stride。 He slammed the flats of his hands against Croaker's chest； sending him reeling back against one cinder…block wall。 Croaker curled his biomechanical hand into a fist but did not raise it。
〃Don't dis me； bro； as the mooinyan uptown say。〃 Bad Clams nodded； stepped back。 〃And speaking of sideshows； what the fuck are you doing following Vesper Arkham around？ You spend any more time with her； you're go