Hard Rain

from the CIA recently," I said. "He
    mentioned something you might want to know about."
    "Yes?"
    "His name is Tomohisa Kanezaki. He's American, ethnic Japanese. He
    mentioned a CIA program for "furthering reform and removing impediments
    to reform." Something called Crepuscular. Sounds like your
    bailiwick."
    He nodded slowly for a moment, then said, "Tell me about this
    program."
    I started to tell him the little I'd heard. Then I realized. "You
    know this guy," I said.
    He shrugged. "He was one of the people who came to the Metropolitan
    Police Force requesting assistance in locating you."
    Marvelous. "Who was the other?"
    "Holtzer's successor as the CIA's chief of Tokyo Station. James
    Biddle."
    "Haven't heard of him."
    "He's young for the position. About forty. Perhaps part of a new
    generation at the CIA."
    I told him how I had met up with Kanezaki and his escort, fudging the
    details to conceal Harry's involvement.
    "How did they manage to find you?" he asked. "It took me an entire
    year, even with local resources and access to Juki Net and the
    cameras."
    "A flaw in my security," I told him. "It's been corrected."
    "And Crepuscular?" he asked.
    "Just what I told you. I didn't get details."
    He drummed his fingers on the table. "It doesn't matter. I doubt that
    Kanezaki-san could have told you more than I already know."
    I looked at him, as always impressed with the breadth of his
    information. "What do you know?"
    "The U.S. government is funneling money to various Japanese reformers.
    This is the same kind of program the CIA ran after the war, when it was
    supporting the Liberal Democratic Party as a bulwark against communism.
    Only the recipients have changed."
    "What about the "removing impediments" part?"
    He shrugged. "I imagine that, as Kanezaki-san suggested, they might
    want you to help with that."
    I laughed. "Sometimes these guys are so presumptuous that a certain
    grandeur creeps into it."
    He nodded. "Or they could be under the misapprehension that you had
    something to do with William Holtzer's demise. Either way, you should
    stay away from them. I think we know that they are not to be
    trusted."
    I smiled at his use, probably deliberate, of 'we' and 'they," as though
    Tatsu and I were partners.
    "All right," I said. "Tell me about the favor you want."
    He paused, then said, "Another key Yamaoto asset. And also a man whose
    primitive appearance masks a more sophisticated set of skills."
    "Who is he?"
    He looked at me. "Someone you should understand quite well. A
    killer."
    "Really," I said, affecting nonchalance.
    The waitress brought his tea and set it down before him. He extended
    the cup in my direction in a silent toast, then took a sip.
    "He is a strange man," he said, watching me. "From his background, you
    might conclude that he is only a brute. There was a history of child
    abuse. Fights in school, and early evidence of sadistic tendencies. He
    dropped out of high school to train in sumo, but couldn't develop the
    necessary bulk. Then he took up Thai boxing, where he had a short but
    unspectacular professional career. About five years ago he became
    involved in a so-called no-holds-barred sport, something called
    "Pride." Do you know of it?"
    "Sure," I said. The Pride Fighting Championship is a mixed martial
    arts sport, based in Japan, with televised bouts held every two months
    or so. The idea behind so-called mixed martial arts, or MMA, is to pit
    against each other a combination of traditional martial disciplines:
    boxing, jujitsu, judo, karate, kempo, kung fu, Muay Thai, sambo,
    wrestling. Audiences for Pride competitions have been growing steadily
    since the sport was founded, along with interest in related events,
    like King of the Cage in the U.K. and the Ultimate Fighting
    Championship in the States. The sport has had some difficulty with
    regulators, who seem more comfortable with a boxer being beaten
    unconscious than with an MMA guy tapping out to a submission hold.
    "What is your impression?" he asked.
    I shrugged. "The competitors are strong. Good skills, good
    conditioning. A lot of heart, too. Some of what I've seen is as close
    to a real fight as you can get while still calling it a sport. But the
    "no-holds-barred" stuff is just marketing.
    Until they decide to allow biting, eye-gouging, and ball shots, and
    until they start leaving weapons of convenience lying around the ring
    for the contestants to pick up, it'll have its shortcomings."
    "It's interesting that you say