Birman missed the flowers.

When Weiss had got out of Tokyo half a step ahead of Takatori's Special Forces, Kritiker's impulse had been to set them up in another flower shop. Botan had pointed out that was no longer the most discreet cover. And since he was a qualified architect...

The struggling new architectural firm had hired the back of one floor in a low rent district on the outskirts of Kyoto. It would probably fail within the year. Meanwhile, it made an excellent cover.

Birman paused in the waiting room to admire Botan's exhibition piece. A skyscraper so tall, so elegant, Takatori would have commissioned it immediately. Hmm. Perhaps...

"Takaoka-san!"

Birman followed Bombay into a room remarkably like the flower shop's underworld.

The four folders she produced were the slimmest yet. In fact, they contained one photo and no information. Bombay already had the information. She said, "Persia has decided it is time to make Reiji Takatori a target."

Yohji said, "About time, too!" Asuka and Botan seemed to agree. Birman's eyes were on Bombay. He'd been born Mamoru Takatori, after all.

Bombay's eyes assessed her back. "I had the impression, on leaving Tokyo, that Takatori was too strongly defended a target for Weiss."

"For Weiss alone. We have a new ally. The yakuza."

Asuka said, "The people whose friends and family it is our job to kill."

Birman had prepared for a hard sell. "From the yakuza point of view we're the lesser of two evils. Takatori's government is taking or destroying all their assets, even the legal ones. If they can use us to survive they will. Takatori wants to destroy us, as well.

"Don't think Takatori a lesser evil than the yakuza, either. You've seen how he goes after you. He goes after others the same way, including civilians. The news is censored, and his martial law is light in Kyoto – so far - but Tokyo's streets look...sad. Scared. Under Takatori Japan will - " she stopped and looked suddenly at Bombay, who was smiling at her, almost – indulgently? When did little Omi grow up? She looked at her ex-partner. He was still a passionate and self-willed man, but Weiss' axeman was not the same as Galen's lone wolf.

Yohji said, "I've heard Persia had arrangements for this sort of thing."

"That's for the real Persia to decide. If he decides it's time for a counter-coup, he will tell us so. Kurasama-san doesn't have the authority."

Asuka said, "Better than yakuza knifemen at our backs."

Omi said gravely, "If Birman and Persia want us to work with the yakuza, we're ready."

Yohji said, "It's Schwarz I'm worried about. They've played with us a couple of times. If they stop playing...we're going to need all the help we can get."

"That's one thing you don't have to worry about. The US Army and Schwarz clashed. Takatori backed the Americans, and fired Schwarz."

Asuka pointed out, "It might be a set up."

"It might."

Botan was more optimistic. "Then Takatori's running his affairs without Crawford's advice?" Even Asuka looked hopeful.

"Yes, but. Do you remember Rinzo Kinugawa?"

Yohji grinned. "Not likely to forget him." It was, after all, pretty well unique for the police to arrest the target before Weiss could get him.

Apparently Kinugawa had tried to set up some elaborate alibi leaving a number of law students in his office while he was out. They were job applicants, and he'd bet, quite rightly, on none wanting to disturb his privacy. One of them, however, wanted a job with the Police Department. When he'd realised he didn't have much hope with Kinugawa anyway, he knocked at the inner door to explain and excuse himself, opened it to find himself alone in the notorious defender's papers, and succumbed to temptation. Of course, the most damaging material was locked away, but there was enough left for the police to be waiting with a warrant at his home that evening.

Despite all the evidence, and the prosecution's hard work, Kinugawa had received a remarkably light sentence. Asuka said, "I did wonder he bothered to escape."

Birman said, "He believes Crawford would have arranged for him to be killed in prison. Anyway, he's more or less taken over Crawford's position."

"It could still be a set up," warned Asuka.

Yohji patted her shoulder. "We'll bear it in mind. But we have to go with the flow."

Botan walked Birman out. Or perhaps Angelica. Galen team had never needed the closeness of Weiss, but they'd been the nearest either had to a friend. He asked wistfully, "Still no news of Azumi?" At her headshake, "You know, Kyouko, knowing anything would be better than this."

"I would be tempted not to tell you if we'd found bad news, but if Persia ever found anything out, he didn't let me know. I promise you, when he comes back from whatever refuge Shion's hidden him in, I'll ask him first thing."

Botan went back to help the rest of Weiss pack.

With bitter thoughts of his beloved Seven in store, Yohji arranged a car rental, and drove it to the building's garage. Botan did most of the carrying heavy stuff to the car, Yohji the packing in the boot, while Asuka did the keeping of immediate necessities from being packed in with the rest. Omi was doing his own version of packing up. He not only had to be careful to protect the computer stuff he was taking, but properly wipe or destroy what he wasn't.

Of course, Botan was the first to notice he was in the doorway, watching them. He straightened. "Bad news?"

"It might be good news." Omi shook his head, then smoothed his new, grown up hair do. He held up a floppy disc. "This came in on my e-mail at the very last moment. On a secured link to Kritiker. There's a reservation for us at the Golden Bamboo Restaurant, noon today."

Botan said, "I think Omi should stay outside as backup."

Yohji frowned. The team worked well enough, but it was of two pairs, and occasionally he could feel the stress line. Botan would want Omi out of danger, whether it was better for the mission or not.

Omi said, "We're all going."

Yohji said, "In that cheap rental? I could pick up a good car real cheap."

Botan said dryly, "You'll have to pack it yourself, then. Asuka and I are withdrawing labour."

Omi ordered in the politest way possible, "Shall we go now?"

Yohji had driven a couple of streets away from the office when Omi said, "Pull up behind that big computer store. There's some things I need. I'm afraid I'm going to need everyone to carry something."

Yohji pulled up, saying, "I did put in that gym work, you know."

Omi led the way into the store and smiled at the sales clerk. "Nihira-san, may I demonstrate that new bug finder to my colleagues? You've no idea how competitive the architectural business can get, and it may prove useful."

"Of course, of course." Nihira bowed to them all and ushered them to the back. Here he brought forth three pieces of equipment. All looked as if they'd been produced to use as props in a Hollywood science fiction movie.

Omi said, "Yohji-kun, Nihira-san's heard all the jokes."

Nihira looked at him gratefully. Picking up the first piece, "I can supply you with translations of the English instructions. Though Japan normally leads the world in electronics, in this particular field the United States..."

Somehow in the demonstration all four Weiss were scanned from head to foot. Nothing was found.

Back at the car, while the other Weiss stayed back, Omi scanned their luggage thoroughly with his fancy new vacuum cleaner. Twice it flashed red.

Yohji had taken over the carpark's customer bench, leaving just enough room for Asuka if she squeezed in. "So, Omittchi, which Golden Bamboo are we talking about?"

"The address is here." Omi handed him the sales receipt. "We've quite a bit of the morning to fill in. If Ken was here, we could go and watch him teach soccer. A public park's still a good place to fill in time."

"Sure!" said Botan heartily. "Might as well walk." Yohji bet Botan had never been the one Galen picked when acting was needed.

Once they'd reached the next street, Asuka was the one who asked, "So what do we do about whoever's snooping on us?"

Omi said, "Keep them happy as long as possible, but that's not the first priority. That e-mail wasn't from Kritiker. It suggested a meeting in this park," he nodded at the gates they were approaching, "this morning. Our contact will be Kazutoshi Hirai."

Botan asked thoughtfully, "That's Kazutoshi Hirai, the head of the Kyoto District yakuza?"

Yohji said, "I'm inclined to agree with Asuka about this one. Even if it's not the obvious trap, we're meant to be on the road to Tokyo by then."

Omi smiled, not very happily. "The meeting is to discuss Takatori's imminent arrival in Kyoto." That startled them all. When a man's just seized power, he doesn't leave the capital city for a tour of historic shrines. Botan made a 'come on' gesture with his hand. Omi went on, "The e-mail claims Takatori is having an urgent confab with his American backers, who weren't expecting a naked military putsch. So, we're gambling on the yakuza a bit earlier than we thought we would, but nothing's much changed."

They walked casually enough. It would have been hard to see how their eyes never missed a car or fellow pedestrian. Through the park gates the men unbuttoned their jackets, making sure the hang of the material didn't show their weapons, or slow access. Passing by some children, it was Yohji who voiced the common feeling. "I miss Ken."

Yohji saw Botan's gaze focus. He'd recognised Hirai. The yakuza chief looked almost as young as Omi.

Omi led the way to the meeting. Apart from Hirai, there was six large and muscular men, obviously armed, but they stood well back as Weiss approached. Dressed in their sombre, almost labelled, black suits they made quite a picture against a grove of maples, where the foliage was beginning to turn to autumn colours.

Yohji was rather reluctant to bow to a yakuza chief, but Omi showed no hesitation. "Hirai-san."

Hirai bowed back respectfully. Even at his most tired and bitter, Omi hadn't eyes like that. "Bombay-sama. Just to clear things between us – Weiss killed my father."

Omi didn't twitch a muscle. The other three Weiss tensed.

Showing the faintest sign of amusement, Hirai said, "He was about to get the yakuza into a messy dispute with the police. He would have lost, and died anyway. And he would have taken my mother, and younger siblings, and faithful family retainers with him. Probably me, too, though I'd been sent out of Tokyo to Kyoto to recruit more men. Weiss kept the bloodshed to a minimum, including yakuza blood." He held out his hand. "I would be glad to shake your hand."

Omi shook it.

Hirai asked, "May I introduce our friends?" The men came up. Omi had files on most of them, and they were the type Weiss had no hesitation in killing on the way to the named target. Yohji found himself exchanging bows with men who, yesterday, he would have garrotted on sight.

Omi said, "I think neither of us will regret this alliance. We found our computers were bugged. Our office, too, probably. They didn't happen to be yours?"

Hirai shook his head. "Whatever my personal feelings, if my subordinates had found you, I doubt they'd have been content with a few bugs."

"May we borrow your computers?"

"Any I have. But I warn you, we've found a few bugs in our own systems. And there can always be long distance microphones."

Asuka glanced at the sun. "If we mean to hide the fact we've found the bugs, we'd better not spend too much longer here."

Omi said, "I think they'll expect us to find them some time. It would be more hindrance than help to keep hanging around them. Unless, sirs, you have an idea?"

Hirai shook his head. "The further away we are from them the better. Perhaps the gentlemen of Weiss would care to have lunch at my home?"

Yohji choked down a laugh. "Sorry, something caught in my throat."

Asuka poked his back with an index finger. He grinned down at her, and slung his arm around her shoulders. Following Omi and Botan, he smiled at the nearest yakuza, a man he knew had killed almost as many people as he had. "So, are we going to have a nice scenic tour of Kyoto after lunch? Which shrine do you think the most holy and beautiful?"

The yakuza said, "I'm Zen."

Yohji grinned. "I know someone back in Tokyo you'll get along with just fine."

Hirai said, "We'll be delighted to show you round."

Omi managed to disclaim interest in tourism while complimenting Kyoto. Sometimes Yohji wondered why Shuichi had bothered to train Omi in weapons at all. Omi could just about talk anyone into anything.

Hirai's family home was palatial. Yohji wondered if Omi felt a pang knowing he should have been brought up in these sort of surroundings. But that wasn't Omi, was it? It was Mamoru. It was confusing enough to Yohji. He wondered how Omi felt about it.

Hirai, who no doubt knew their names, real or otherwise, was polite enough to stick to the codenames. He even called Botan Korat, which was more than Birman usually remembered to do.

After the diners had appreciated the food, they put down their chopsticks and picked up pen and paper.

It was a bizarre council of war. Those taking part would write down all information and suggestions, but on offering them would express the emotions they would have used in conversation. Yohji found himself sharing headshakes and eyerolls with yakuza. There were occasional disjointed phrases.

The lower echelon yakuza got a lot more to eat.

Omi said nothing, and showed little emotion, busy shoving scraps of paper around on the table in front of him. His fish course had been shoved to one side, and he'd waved away the later. Finally he said, "Well, I know Kritiker has the right sort of van. They were going to move us into it."

Botan said, "I can go and pick it up." He was very obviously trying not to look distrustfully at the yakuza.

Hirai said delicately, "And the other equipment?"

Omi said, "If we don't have to wait for Kritiker to supply us, it will help."

Asuka said, "Timing?"

Omi nodded to Botan, who said, "I'll go now."

The half hour they waited for Botan, Hirai and Omi spent on determinedly civilised conversation. Yohji was a bit disconcerted to find the drug maven, Kosaka, knew quite a lot about film noir and had opinions worth hearing.

Finally a kimonoed maid appeared in the doorway. Bowing, she said, "Korat-san is here, Hirai-san." From her tone, Korat was the Lord High Somebody, and had arrived in a Rolls.

Far from it. The van was at least second hand, and that hand hadn't treated it well. Omi shook his head in disgust. "They wanted us to live in that."

Asuka wondered, "What is it with Kritiker and pink?"

Botan shrugged, "I think it was Persia's favourite colour."

Yohji said, "No, it was cheap. Do we start this afternoon?"

Omi shook his head. "Better have the van clearly painted. 'Somebody or other's finest oden?'

"Oden?" asked one of the younger yakuza deferentially. "Isn't it a bit early?" Fish broth is definitely a winter food.

Omi smiled at him. "We don't want to attract customers."

Hirai said, "Nonetheless, you probably will get a few. My cook does excellent oden..."

The cook acted as if it was a treat to be dragged from the middle of preparing dinner for an unexpected herd of guests, to explain the basics of oden preparation and serving to her household's enemies. She concentrated on teaching Asuka. Normally Asuka didn't allow this, but must have figured the cook had enough to deal with already.

The painters turned up while this was going on. Hirai smiled at Omi. "Not pink?"

"Anything but pink." Looking at the display, rather reluctantly, "Perhaps a rather dull colour would be best."

Yohji was concentrating on road maps. "I think I ought to drive," said Botan.

Yohji clicked his tongue, "You guys act as if I crashed every week."

Kosaka assured Botan, "This old mutt won't show a few extra knocks."

Hirai was telling Omi, "...support cultural activities in Kyoto. Some time your ikkou must be our guests..."

The painter took just long enough from shouting unneeded orders at his crew to ask, "Hey, boss, what name shall we put?"

Hirai looked quizzically at Omi. Possibly to avert the cat jokes looming, Omi said, "Fish on Wheels."

Nursing his third cup of coffee, Yohji listened to Bombay of Weiss and Hirai of the yakuza discussing noh. Asuka had been dragged off to arrange the van's uniforms, and he was glad to miss that.

Botan said, "We better drive off bright and early."

Yohji closed his eyes, in order to concentrate on scowling.

Botan went on thoughtfully, "Yes, the road getting there will be kind of narrow for a van. You'll have to concentrate. And bumpy. And don't forget the way it weaves from side to side - "

Yohji snapped, "Okay! You can drive! This morning, anyway."

Botan sensibly refrained from saying anything further. Yohji could be a sore loser. But as he turned to eating a large, fried breakfast instead, Yohji didn't gain much from this.

A nicely dull green van set off eventually. Its route was around the US Army base.

If anyone with no previous assumptions had been watching, they might have decided it was best to steer well clear of whatever the van was peddling. The staff seemed to need an awful lot of pit stops. It is true these stops were generally near some surveillance equipment, but as surveillance equipment was thick all around the base, that wasn't statistically significant.

Weiss learned the US Army allowed very little cover to grow up around their high, chain link fences. Some concrete manufacturer must have made a fortune.

Lunch was a light affair. The cook had packed them a salad, and they ate no fish at all.

Soon afterwards, a dark helicopter flew over them. It hovered directly overhead for a moment. Botan scowled upward, his grip on the sauce ladle shifting. Yohji found himself weighing up the merits of skinning knife and skewer. It just needed one metal object in those vanes...

"Botan!" said Omi sharply, and returned to persuading a few school truants he didn't have ice cream hidden under the counter.

The end of the afternoon found Yohji driving along the loneliest stretch of their circle. Between the road and the camp was the same concrete, but well grown bush lined the other side of the road. A dark limousine pulling in across the windscreen. He tapped the brakes softly, having learned by now Kritiker really had cut costs on this vehicle.

Hirai emerged from the front seat, adjusting his jacket. All four Weiss got out of the van and walked over to him. The yakuza asked, "Any luck?".

"I'm afraid, Hirai-san, our venture is so far fruitless."

Hirai shrugged. "Well, I guess it's time to cut our losses then." He ducked under the car.

A line of dark suited men carrying submachine guns stepped out of the bush and began firing.

As he ran toward the fence, Yohji only hoped Hirai's boasts about his men's marksmanship was accurate. And their reliability. It needed only one man to remember a dead friend or relative...

The bullets tore up the fence, and took out the immediate electronic equipment, but there was still a high barrier of concrete and tangled steel to get over. Yohji used his wire as a grapelle over a concrete pillar, for himself and Asuka. Botan hit the fence's steel, one blow with his axe at the strained links and they almost exploded apart.

One running pace on the higher concrete inside, two steps, and soldiers were there, facing them. Their weapons were larger and more numerous than the yakuza's.

The machine guns' muzzles, lifted, aimed.

Omi went down.

Omi had spent some time worrying over whether they should make this a night action. He was sure Weiss had more experience there, but the soldiers would have the advantage of familiar ground. At last he'd decided Weiss couldn't afford to wait until dark, anyway. Which didn't mean he hadn't made the break in as late as possible. Weiss was on flat, clear open ground, but the long shadows of late afternoon barred the killing field. Omi had gambled a lot on long, black shadows. The soldiers were already closer than they should have been.

But not nearly as much as he had on the troop's using heavy calibre. Weiss dived to the ground. For a second the soldiers' grips shifted on their weapons. As they were looking at Weiss, they didn't see the yakuza's really heavy guns. To Weiss it sounded like one clap of thunder. The soldiers were blown apart.

They'd got off some shots, of course. All of Weiss were hit and bleeding. But they'd been shot before. All could stand when the firing stopped..

Omi was first to grab the nearest machine gun and start running forward again, but only by a second.

Very faintly through the ringing in his ears, he heard Hirai shouting, "Are Weiss the only samurai here?" and the yakuza yell as they charged after them.

Weiss headed straight for the airfield, but didn't get the last lucky break. They didn't catch Takatori either trying to get to his helicopter or just lifting off. The field was an abandoned playground with giant toys. The Takatori helicopter looked almost small and dainty sitting beside the big military models.

Omi jumped in and looked around. For the most part the helicopter showed the military touch and had been swept clean of incriminating evidence. But there was a photo lying on the carpet. From the large dirty footprint over it, it had been kicked under the seat. Omi picked it up and saw it was a family picture. Parents, two sons, a baby. Everyone looked happy.

Well, it might be. If not, Mamoru had something much like it.

Omi let it drop, and jumped out to find Asuka and Hirai disputing over the fate of the military helicopters. Asuka wanted to sabotage them, to stop Takatori escaping. Hirai wanted to keep them to sell later. Both looked at him to decide. A few days ago he'd never have thought a yakuza would be asking for his advice. He'd have bet on it.

Omi suggested, "Have a couple of men keep an eye on the helicopters." He nodded at the nearest, "Sitting there, they could monitor the radio at the same time."

Hirai nodded, and assigned a couple of his more middle-aged henchmen. The airfield was right at the north edge of the field, and a cold evening wind was coming from the sea. They looked glad to sit down in the warm cockpit, stretch their legs, and fiddle with the radio.

Asuka shrugged, and joined the rest of Weiss, and their yakuza helpers, in scouting the military camp. They were trying to figure out which of the posts holding out was the one with Takatori. And Powell and Nicol, as Hirai was quick to remind them. To Weiss, of far less importance.

Yohji had complained about Persia not issuing Weiss with guns, but Omi noticed he was as quick as the rest of Weiss to discard his and return to his silent weapon.

Omi kept a careful eye on the time. He and Hirai had tried to work out how long the response from the next army would be, but he knew very well a number of things could happen to make it a lot shorter. The sudden, heavy firing from the southern fence was uncomfortably late in arriving.

A very young, very excited yakuza rushed up to him. He almost saluted, catching himself at the last minute. "Hirai-san says the breakout party has reached the outer fence. Should we - ?"

There was an explosion from the north. He jumped.

Omi said, "I don't think so. The breakout party is probably harmless if left alone." He ran to the airfield.

Against the night sky some of Hirai's handsome new helicopters made a fine bonfire. Even a stretch of the chain link fence was glowing all the colours of embers. The two yakuza who'd been on watch looked a bit greasy, but otherwise unharmed. They were telling Hirai, "...We lay on the carpet when they started the chopper."

Omi said, "Who did the trap kill?"

One of the thugs said, "Bombay-san, there was Takatori, three uniforms, Powell and Nicol." A little reluctantly, "Two civilian secretaries."

Omi looked at him sympathetically. Perhaps the yakuza was less hardened to killing civilian bystanders than Weiss. "And the photos?"

Hirai handed Omi his copy. "Nicol came out quite clearly in a couple." He seemed pleased by the photos.

Omi thought the pictures of the elected Prime Minister of Japan and a streategically important US general sneaking around with a notorious Mafioso more depressing. Still, maybe useful, he admitted.

Botan touched his elbow. Omi followed his gaze and saw the same dark clad yakuzas whose volley had opened the action. They were filing along the burning fence.

Hirai spoke slowly and deliberately. Deliberately slowly. "Sorry it has to end this way. But after all, you did kill my father."

By that time, of course, Weiss were in the shadows.

Omi said clearly, "Weiss, Hirai is not a target." Botan frowned. He didn't take his eyes off Hirai.

Omi watched him sadly. He loved Botan, but he couldn't undo the dead wife, the fear and tearing hope for the lost daughter. It must be so tempting for Botan to rush out to end it all on yakuza guns.

Then Botan looked at Omi, his face brightening, as if he was waking from a bad dream. He put away his axe, and turned away from the open, firelit killing ground.

The radio's sharp tones said:...regret to announce the sudden, accidental death of Prime Minister Takatori...

"Thank you, Mother, Yuushi-niisan. But Ouka is my friend. I'll be the one to tell her."

...at a pacifist demonstration at a US Army base. Drugged and violent elements...

"That'll be you, Asuka – oof!"

"Don't attack Yohji-kun until he's put down the bird-of-paradise plants, Asuka-chan. They're important for the Koneko's reopening."

...several of Takatori's servants comitted suicide to give the controversial Takatori a death following. Their names are Rinzo Kinugawa...

"That reminds me, this trigger's action's getting a bit spongy. Take it in to be fixed, Fujimiya."

...As a gesture of support to Japan's guests, the US Army, the celebrated philanthropist Kazutoshi Hirai will resupply the damaged equipment at cost...