Zero. Part 22

"He's a big shot," Michael said. "A kahuna himself. Sure I know." He took another slice of vegetable. "What happened?"

"He's a boor," she said. "Likes to throw his weight around, get into fights. I can't stand it."

Michael shrugged. "Tell him."

Eliane laughed. "I did. So what? It doesn't matter. He's deaf to those things.

He does what he wants. He's used to the power. I can't stop it."

"Sure you can," Michael said. "If you try."

"Guns make me nervous, too," she said, then, "Ow!" She dropped the pot of scalding water, sucked at her hand. "d.a.m.n!"

Michael took her hand, turned it over. It was red where the pot handle and then the water had burned it. The skin was raw. "You have any disinfectant?"

Eliane shook her head. "No bandages, either." She sucked at the burn again.

"Don't worry, I'll live."

Michael looked at her. "Is that what your boyfriend did," he asked, returning to the subject, "wave a gun in your face?"

"Eventually," she said. She picked up the cleaver again, wincing a little as she tightened her grip on the haft. "He hit me first."

"Jesus." Michael was thinking of Audrey and Hans. Thinking of what he had done to the German.

"He's very . . . physical."

Right there he should have said, You got yourself into this, get yourself out.

But he didn't do the smart thing. Why? Because what if this boyfriend worked for Fat Boy Ichimada? Playing the jealous lover would buy Michael a lot of time inside the compound if he was discovered. That time could be critical to getting out again. Sure, Michael thought. That's all it is. A child's game of strategy to get inside the bad man's castle.

"Who does he work for, your boyfriend?" Michael asked.

"What are you going to do?"

"If you can't get satisfaction from the hired help," he said, "go straight to the top."

Eliane laughed. "That's pretty funny."

"I wasn't joking."

"I don't believe you."

"Try me. Who does your boyfriend work for?"

"A guy named Fat Boy Ichimada. He's the head Yakuza kahuna in the Islands."

"Where does Ichimada live?" Michael asked. Knowing already.

"Just past where we ran into each other this morning. In Kahakuloa, remember?"

"I have to go," Michael said, walking to the door.

"Where are you going?" She wiped her hands on the cotton ap.r.o.n. "Dinner's almost ready."

"You said I had an obligation to take care of you."

She came around from behind the kitchen pa.s.s-through. "Are you serious?"

Michael looked at her. "Weren't you?"

"Oh come on." She laughed, trying to make a joke of it. "Besides, there are guns there. Lots of guns. Ichimada doesn't like uninvited guests."

Michael walked to the door. "That's okay," he said. "I'll avoid them."

"Just why in the h.e.l.l are you doing this?"

"I told you."

"And I don't believe you for a minute. For one thing, we just met. For another, why would you be doing this now, when you could go tomorrow during the day, like any normal human being?"

"In the daylight," Michael said, "Ichimada will see me coming.""You're not going for me," she said. "You want something from Ichimada for yourself."

"Maybe." He shrugged. "So what?"

"Why lie to me? Why this nonsense about this obligation to take care of me?"

"It's not nonsense," he said.

"You're half serious." She shook her head in confusion. "I don't understand you."

"Don't try so hard to understand me," he said. "I'm something of an enigma even to myself."

When she saw that he was about to leave, she took off her ap.r.o.n. "Okay then, we'll go together."

"Not a chance."

She put on a jacket, shook her hair out. "Just how do you intend to get into Ichimada's compound in the dark?"

"I'll get in," he said.

"Is that so? Do you know about the dogs, the trip wires, the spotlights?" She scrutinized his face. "Besides, you don't even know my boyfriend's name or what he looks like."

Michael saw the bind she had put him in. He did not want to take anyone with him when he infiltrated Fat Boy Ichimada's compound, but now he had no choice.

This woman knew that he had h'ed to her, that he had an ulterior motive for getting into Fat Boy Ichimada's compound. If he left her behind, she could very well call her boyfriend the moment Michael left. Michael had no desire to have Ichimada's men waiting for him when he arrived at the compound in Kaha-kuloa.

"All right," he said, opening the door. "Come on. But keep your mouth shut, and do what I tell you, okay?"

"Sure, boss." Eliane grinned. "Anything you say."

"Does your hand hurt?"

"Not much," she said.

But he had seen it as she climbed into the Jeep. He pulled off the highway at the main light in Lahaina. She directed him to a pharmacy, where he purchased bandages, burn salve, a roll of surgical tape and a small spray can of Bactine.

Back at the Jeep, he sprayed her burned hand, pocketed the can. Then he applied the salve, wrapping the bandages over the burn, fixing it in place with the tape.

"How's that feel?"

"Better," she said. "Thanks."

They set out again, still heading northwest. On their right were the West Maui Mountains, as crenellated as a castle's bulwark. To the left, the Pacific was lit by moonlight that painted a s.h.i.+mmering brushstroke across its calm bosom.

Black crosshatching delineated the masts, spars and rigging of fis.h.i.+ng vessels at anchor in the harbor. Further out, it was possible to see a cruise liner lying to. Bright strings of lights beribboned its deck and, once, a gust of wind brought the sound of a band to their ears.

"I think you need a new boyfriend," Michael said.

"I didn't need him to begin with," she said.

They were zooming past Kaanapali, the large resort area, filled with hotels, condos, restaurants and the only movie theater for miles.

Ten minutes later, they were into the golf courses of Ka-palua, heading down toward the ocean when the highway ended. Rolling past the small general store.

Turning right onto the old road. Soon they would be at the extreme northernmost part of Maui. Swinging around to head back south. To Kahakuloa.

The moonlight that, before, had illuminated Eliane's face now dappled the road. The inconstant light obliged him to reduce speed. His shoulders were hunched with the concentration required to negotiate a road that he knew at any moment would become a deeply rutted dirt track.

The Pacific crashed against the saw-toothed rocks five hundred yards below them. They had left Fleming Beach behind them and were now beginning thetorturous navigation along the Honokohau cliffs.

Michael turned off the Jeep's headlights, slowed considerably. He was obliged to drive without headlights to ensure that Fat Boy Ichimada's guards would not see their approach.

The hills of Kahakuloa.

Not a quarter of a mile farther on, Eliane's Jeep had gone over the cliff.

Michael pa.s.sed a closed gate. A moment later he pulled into a rocky wayside carved into the edge of the cliff. There were many of these roadsides scattered along a road whose snaking turns were impossible for two cars to negotiate at once.

Michael turned off the engine.

"Okay," he said. "You've gone far enough. What's your boyfriend's name?"

"Bluto."

"And yours is Olive Oyl. Eliane, what's his name?"

"If I tell you, you'll leave me here."

"That's the idea."

"I want to go with you," she said.

"Why?"

"It was me that he hit, remember? Can't you understand that I can be of some help?"

"That's why I'm asking you to give me your boyfriend's name."

She shook her bead. "You didn't come here to get Fat Boy Ichimada to keep my boyfriend away from me."

"You didn't come here for that reason either, did you?"

She peered into the shadows that shrouded his face. "I guess neither of us trusts the other." She shrugged. "That's natural, I guess. I don't know you; I don't trust what I don't know."

This is crazy, he thought. I can't involve a civilian. It never occurred to him that yesterday he himself had been a civilian. "Stay here, Eliane. I mean it."

He grabbed the satchel and the katana, got out of the Jeep. He went up to the gate. Producing a pair of wire cutters from the satchel, he went to work. When the hole was large enough, he went through bent over.

On the other side, in the Jeep, Eliane sat still. Between them, the torn barbed wire seemed to glow in the moonlight. The crickets droned, and night birds swooped, unseen, above their heads.

"Michael," she whispered, "take me with you."

He started up the slope, paralleling the dirt track.

"Michael," she said, turning the key in the ignition, "don't leave me." The Jeep's headlights came on.

"Jesus!" he said. "Are you nuts? Turn those off, Eliane!"

'Take me!"

"Eliane, for Christ's sake, everyone will see-"

"Take me with you! I can help. Do you know about the boar traps?"

Michael paused. He didn't. There was nothing about boar traps in the BITE file on Ichimada's compound.

She saw his expression. "I didn't think so. They were put in last week. I know where they are."

Michael stared up at the stars, weighing the options. Was she telling the truth? "All right," he said at last.

Somewhere far ahead, a dog began to bark.

Fat Boy Ichimada, heading into the compound in his helicopter, saw the lights down by the main gate. Ichimada had been searching for Michael Doss all day.

Tired of the car, he had spent the afternoon in the copter. Away from the dusty roads. And from a possible tail from Ude. Ichimada was tired and disgusted that Michael Doss seemed to have dropped from sight as surely as a stone thrown into the Pacific.

The pilot, a Yakuza soldier named Wailea Charlie, said, "Want me to radio the compound to let the dogs loose? You're not expecting company, are you?"