Chapter Twenty-Six
Yokohama Harbor, a week later:

If Korea had seemed dull and forbidding during the brief time they'd anchored there, the opposite could be said of this busy Japanese harbor. A deep-water port, it was home to ships of all sizes. The Lady Ambergris II seemed dwarfed by some of the super-tankers in her waters.

As Derrick expertly steered the yacht between the giant ships and into a vacant slip, Amber could not help but be amazed at the size of the giant vessels. Oh, she'd known about them, of course. She'd even seen a few from land-based points of view, but sailing amongst them gave her an entirely new perspective of their size.

Sensing an immortal behind her, she looked over her shoulder to see Wingate also contemplating the super-tankers.

"Wowee!" he whistled sharply. "Gotta admit… this trip is giving me a whole new perspective on the world."

Amber turned back to the rail, determined not to be seen actually agreeing with the immortal. He still made her feel as if something dangerous were aboard.

Nearby, Burke was going, "Toot! Toot!" as he waved at the smaller tugboats shepherding the big tankers. Amanda smiled thinly at the man and wondered what he thought about all of this. Did he even understand why they here? Did any of them?

Shortly later they were tied up at a slip and cleared through customs.

"C'mon," Derrick said with a grin as he grabbed her hand.

"And where might we be goin'?" she replied.

"I want you to meet someone. I was based out of here one winter a number of years ago. I found a dojo to work out in and a sensei who taught me a lot about wielding such a large blade."

"Mortal?"

Derrick shrugged. "I assume so. I wouldn't have known the difference at the time."

"Aye… I forget ya're only a few months one of us."

Derrick pulled her along with him down the gangway. He waved to the others as they likewise headed off.

"Whar are they goin'?" Amber asked.

"David and Michelle want to check on an import-export company that might feature his furniture. I asked Caspar to take Burke along on a tour of the city. Burke's been pretty cooped up and he needs to get out."

"Wingate still has his sword. Does Burke know that?"

Derrick nodded, but shrugged it off. Amber hoped he wasn't making a huge mistake.

Soon they were on one of the narrow streets flanked by high buildings and colorful street vendors. This wasn't one of the better sections of town, Amber guessed. She doubted that tourists came down to this portion of the city often. About her she could hear the singsong of the local language, and smell the food being offered for sale. Her mouth watered as she realized just how hungry she was.

But Derrick didn't stop. He was determined to find this dojo he'd once trained at no matter what. Through the twisting warren of streets they walked until Amber was totally confused and lost.

"It's just down this one," Derrick said, pointing out another street. "I remember that shop."

That shop looked like a thousand others they'd seen on this trek. Amber didn't know how he could tell the difference. But he was right. He stopped before a tinted window displaying a blinking purple neon sign. "This is it," he told her and opened the door.

They entered into the clean open space of the martial arts facility. The heavy odor of old sweat permeated the air, although incense burned at a shrine set up to one side.

A small man attired in black, approached and bowed a greeting. Derrick bowed in return and the two chatted in Japanese for some moments before they bowed to one another once more.

"Let's go. He's not here. He sold the place last month and was going to retire."

"So we've come all this way for nothin'?"

Derrick smiled. "I didn't say that. He had me to dinner once. I think I can still find the place."

"Ya think ya can find it?"

After chuckling, he replied with a shrug. "It was dark." Taking her hand, he headed onto the street once more. He paused to get his bearings and then took off. Amber struggled to keep up with his long loping gait.

He finally began to climb a small mountain road on the outskirts of the city. From where they were, Amber could see well-appointed estates and older, more traditional Japanese homes. At the top, the road dead-ended by a high gate set in a stone wall.

Finding the call box, Derrick quickly explained who he was and whom he was searching for. A few moments later, the gate swung open. "Shall we?" he said with a grin and pulled her along onto the grounds. The gate shut behind them.

Amber had to admit the garden was perfection itself. The grass was even and smooth; tree branches bent low over stands of flowers, and a brook meandered through the grounds. As they crossed over a small arched bridge, she could see koi swimming. Ahead was a house that might have stood there for well over a century… so picture perfect was it.

It was then that they both hesitated on the pebbled path… an immortal was ahead of them. Derrick glanced at Amber almost with surprise… and then nodded and continued forward. He'd dropped her hand as if giving her the chance to remain where she was, but Amber was not about to let him continue on alone. Instead, she loosened her cutlass, and kept her hand on its hilt.

As they approached the wide wooden stairs leading to a spacious veranda surrounding the house, amber saw the immortal. Dressed in traditional robes, his dark eyes peered at them sharply over his small mustache. His dark hair was cut very short; his katana, sheathed, was in his hands.

Derrick called out to him and bowed… both his hands in plain sight.

Amber held her breath.

The immortal descended the stairs. "Derrick, my young student. So you have joined us at last."

Derrick glanced up. "You knew?"

"Your potential to be one of us was as plain as your face. I knew it the first day you entered my dojo for lessons. Do you still carry that monstrous weapon you call a sword?"

Derrick opened his coat and pulled it free, bowing slightly as he held it out before him with both hands.

"You would be wise not to offer that thing to other immortals," the immortal said. He laid his sheathed katana along his neck and paced about with amusement.

"Amber, this is Hikaru Masahiro, my friend and teacher. This is Amber Conroy," Derrick explained.

"Are you so certain I am still a friend, young Derrick?" Masahiro suddenly pulled his katana loose from its sheath and held it overhead as he turned, ready to strike downward.

At the same moment, Derrick twirled the broadsword in his hands so that he deflected Masahiro's blow. Then the two men began to warily circle one another. Amber cried out, but moved back nervously.

"So… you have not forgotten everything I taught you."

"I have endeavored to remain always ready."

"Hai! In all my days, I had never seen one who held potential so determined to learn every move possible. It was as if you knew."

"Perhaps I did," Derrick replied. The two raced toward one another, their blades clashing and sparks showering them both. Once… twice… three times they clashed and then withdrew. Both men were perspiring in the heat from their exertions.

"Most who have some idea of what we are… find an early death… and a very permanent one. I am relieved you made the change… if in fact you did know."

Derrick shrugged. "I'd ceased to worry about it years ago."

"Perhaps that then is the reason. Good thing I never taught you this!" Masahiro turned abruptly and executed a complicated set of moves that caught Derrick off-guard. He backed away… putting up a few blocks and then suddenly seemed to understand and executed his series of moves that turned the table and swiftly managed to disarm his former teacher. He caught the katana on the way down as he lightly laid the broadsword along Masahiro's neck.

The immortal bowed. "And the pupil has become the teacher."

Derrick removed his blade from Masahiro's neck and returned the bow. He glanced at the katana in his other hand. "I suppose you want this back?"

"If it pleases you. I have carried it for well over a century. It was given to me by the emperor himself when I served him as samurai."

"Then it is a noble blade." Derrick returned it.

Masahiro took it, regarded it sharply, and then laughed. He turned to pick up the dropped scabbard and shoved the blade home. Then he turned to clasp Derrick by the shoulders and welcome him.

"Would you have taken my head?" Derrick asked.

"If you had not fought with all of your ability… I might have given you a scar you would carry always," the Japanese swordsman laughed.

He nodded at Amber. "I have had tea prepared. Come… join me."

Amber let out the deep breath she'd been holding. Derrick slung an arm about her jovially. "It's an old game. He always tested me thus."

"Aye… but was yar head ever in jeopardy before?"

"Have no worries Miss Conroy," Masahiro was saying. "Custom dictates that I not behead anyone I welcome as guest."

"Ya're makin' that up," she snorted.

"Perhaps I am. Still… you are guests in my home. I must treat you accordingly." He led the way onto the veranda where a servant was setting out the tea things. She bowed deeply as the three approached and withdrew.

"Does she know?" Amber asked nodding in the woman's direction.

"I doubt it. Yoshi has been with me several years. I've had no reason to face a challenge in that time." He gestured them to take their seats as he poured the tea. Once all three had theirs, Masahiro sat easily and regarded Derrick and Amber over his cup. "Your arrival here is fortuitous. I was planning on leaving here. I've likely been here too long. Within a few days, I would have been gone and you would have found only an empty house."

"Where are you off to?" Derrick asked.

Masahiro shrugged. "I have not decided. I had thought a bit of traveling to see the lands beyond Japan and China."

"We have a yacht. We would welcome you," Derrick said while Amber gasped at his openness.

"Traveling with other immortals? Why does that strike fear into my heart?"

Derrick laughed and shrugged. "It's not really a problem. There's six of us." He went on to briefly explain how they came to take ship together. While he talked and Masahiro listened, Amber shook her head. She had a feeling that they might have picked up another traveling companion.

Twilight was descending around them as Masahiro's elderly housekeeper brought trays of food and then bowed silently as she departed. The three immortals took little notice of her, so deep in conversation were they.

As she left for the evening, a man approached the gate, bowed and chatted with her a moment, and then entered as the gate closed behind him. After she'd left, he grinned slyly as he drew his katana and quietly walked up the path.

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Washington, DC:

Sarah Manning had lost track of time. With Kingsley's threat hanging over her head… literally… she'd buckled down and been downright stunning… at least in her own mind… for the filming. The plot… such as it was… seemed to involve an executioner… the masked Hans… and his ministrations on the lovely prisoner… Sarah. Occasionally, two hooded actors… evidently inquisitors of some sort… also were filmed with her. She found it interesting that none of their faces were ever shown… but that hers was. She might even have enjoyed herself… if it hadn't been for Kingsley's presence and the ominous threat he posed. She was currently shackled only by one hand, but she was still at a disadvantage.

"One more scene," Eric the director called. Sarah sighed and tossed her hair. It was damp and matted about her head. She dearly wanted a long shower and a decent meal. What she'd been fed had been cold and greasy. Hardly appetizing.

"How do you want me?" she said and yawned as if bored.

"Just cowering on the bed will do it."

Sarah rolled her eyes and assumed a position, moving slightly as Erik barked directions. Hans was arguing with one of the robed actors. Finally he threw up his hands and stalked off camera. Evidently he didn't like the next scene for some reason. She heard the door slam behind him. She noted that the hooded actor… she'd never gotten his name and Eric were the only two present. That's odd, she thought.

Eric set the camera to record. "You got one take," he said and also left.

Sarah looked at the actor now drawing a sword from beneath his robes. She panicked, attempting once more to get away. She kicked out at him and ducked and wove to avoid him.

He held the blade up before him, his dark eyes glittered a bit behind his mask.

"Listen. You don't know what this is about," Sarah cried. She could sense Kingsley's presence wherever he usually was. He wasn't in the room and this wasn't him. "Kingsley! Stop this!"

The actor grinned. She could see his mouth below the half-mask. "I'm gonna enjoy this," he said. He swung the sword and then pulled it back… ramming it into her chest.

Sarah coughed blood. "Please… don't," she begged. She was sliding back along the blade… slowly falling to the bed.

As she hit the bed, she felt the blade withdrawn. "Snuff is where it's at doll," the actor said. But his voice sounded odd and far away. Sarah's consciousness became limited to a smaller and smaller area… as if the circle of light was shrinking… shrinking… shrinking… until it was a point of light. Then there was nothing.

As soon as she was dead… the actor turned to the camera and shut it off. Then he removed his mask and hood and began to clean his weapon. He glanced up as Kingsley entered. "You saw?"

"I watched. Nicely done. She showed real terror."

"Using a sword was different. I usually use a gun."

"I don't think a gun would have terrified her," Kingsley chuckled. He carefully removed the disc from the camera.

"So same pay as last time? You want I should dump the body?"

"Same pay. But someone else will dispose of this body. I don't like using the same location too often."

"Suit yourself. I gotta say," he added, suddenly brandishing the sword at Kingsley, "I did like the feel of it as I gutted her. It was somehow so much more real than a gun."

Kingsley reached out and snatched the blade from the man's hands. "Be careful with that thing," he snarled. "Now get out of here. Take a cab and leave the car."

The actor left.

Kingsley laid the blade to one side and leaned over the bed. "Tsk… tsk… tsk… such a mess. Guess I better get you cleaned up." Wrapping her in the bloody sheets, he carried Sarah out of the room, wondering how long it would be before she revived… and how long it would be before he could get enough information out of her to find Adams… and Gerard.

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