Dragon (Dirk Pitt 10)

"What put you onto Orita?"

"A couple of broad hints. Showalter was too clever to be snatched without inside help. He was betrayed by someone who had his confidence and knew his exact movements. And there was Jim Hanamura-- he expressed bad vibes on Orita but had nothing solid to go on. To add to the suspicion, Orita has dropped out and gone undercover. He hasn't reported to Mel Penner since Showalter vanished. Kern thinks he's hiding under Suma's skirts in Edo City."

"What of his background?"

"Third-generation American. His father won the Silver Star in the Italian campaign. We can't figure what bait Suma used to recruit him."

"Who handled the execution of Hanamura and Showalter?"

"The evidence isn't in yet. It appears a ritual killing. A police pathologist thought their heads were taken off by a samurai sword. Suma's chief assassin is known to be a lover of ancient martial arts, but we can't prove he did it."

Pitt sank slowly into a chair. "A waste, a damned waste."

"Jim Hanamura didn't go out a loser," Jordan said with sudden doggedness. "He gave us our one and only lead to the detonation control center."

Pitt looked up expectantly. "You have a location?"

"Nothing to celebrate yet, but we're half a step closer."

"What information did Hanamura turn up?"

"Jim penetrated the offices of Suma's construction designers and found what looks to be rough drawings of an electronic control center that fits the layout we're looking for. Indications suggest it's an underground installation reached by a tunnel."

"Anything on the whereabouts?"

"The brief message he wrote on the back of an envelope that was delivered to the embassy by the driver of an auto parts delivery truck is too enigmatic to decipher with any accuracy."

"The message?"

"He wrote, `Look on the island of Ajima.' "

Pitt made a slight shrug. "So what's the problem?"

"There is no Ajima Island," Jordan answered defeatedly. He held up the glass and examined it. "This is skim milk."

"It's better for you than whole milk."

"Like drinking water," Jordan muttered as he studied a glass case of trophies. Most were awards for outstanding automobiles at concours shows, a few were old high school and Air Force Academy football trophies, and two were for fencing. "You a fencer?"

"Not exactly Olympic material, but I still work out when I get the time."

"Epée, foil, or saber?"

"Saber."

"You struck me as a slasher. I'm into foil myself."

"You prefer a deft touch."

"A pity we can't have a match," said Jordan.

"We could compromise and use the epee."

Jordan smiled. "I'd still have the advantage, since touches by the foil and epee are made with the points, while the saber is scored by hits on the edges."

"Hanamura must have had a good reason for suggesting Ajima as the control center site," said Pitt, returning to business.

"He was an art nut. His operation to plant bugs in Suma's office was designed around his knowledge of early Japanese art. We knew Suma collected paintings, especially works by a sixteenth-century Japanese artist who produced a series on small islands surrounding the main isle of Honshu, so I had one forged. Then Hanamura, posing as an art expert, sold it to Suma. The one island painting Suma does not own is Ajima. That's the only link I can think of."