Prologue

    "Oda-sama, we have him." The powerfully built man knelt respectfully before the shadowed figure, heedless of his imported Armani suit. Sighing the figure marked his place in the book and spun his chair to face the door.

    "Very well, bring him in." The kneeling figure reached back and rapped once on the door. At once four burly men entered, another man held bound and struggling between them. "So Kanbe-ch-an," Oda remarked in a whisky smooth tenor. "you have betrayed me."

    "I don't know what you're talking about!" Kanbe began angrily.

    "Fujiwara Kanbe," Oda read from a notepad on his desk. "Ten year veteran of the GSDF. A sergeant in the Special Operations Unit. Specialist in unarmed combat. Three years as an instructor." Oda gave him an appraising look. "Ranked fifth nation wide in Kenpo. I am impressed." He glanced back at the pad. "Left SDF in 1993 . . . joined the Metropolitan Police Force, three years with the Riot Police . . .the last year and a half with the Internal Investigations Operative. My, you have been busy." Oda looked at Kanbe with a languid predatory smile. "Untie him."

     "Oda-sama?" The kneeling man looked up in shock. It was all four of his men could do to hold Kanbe as it was. "It this wise?"

     "Juzo," Oda placed a hand on his servants head. "Do you doubt me?"

    "No, Master," Juzo paled. "I just----"

    "Your consideration is noted," Oda replied mildly. "I wish to speak with him. And those ropes look very uncomfortable." Apprehensively Juzo sliced the bonds that held Kanbe. The undercover policeman flexed his hands, trying to restore the circulation. "I took you in Kanbe-ch-an, treated you well . . .gave you my trust. You owe me a certain amount of loyalty."

    "You're a drug dealer, a thief and a murderer," Kanbe retorted. "I don't owe you a fucking thing."

     "Oh, dear," Oda sounded sad. "Such language. I'm afraid I'm going to have to punish you." He started to rise from his chair. Kanbe had been waiting for a moment like this. He lashed out with a snap-kick, perfectly timed for the moment Oda was half way out of the chair. That would eliminate the brains. In the confined space of the office he had the advantage - - -they couldn't get behind him. "Very slow, Kanbe-ch-an. Are you really sure you were ranked fifth?" Kanbe jerked as Oda appeared beside him, as if by magic. "You simply _must_ do better than that," Kanbe shuddered as Oda caressed his face with a perfectly manicured hand. "Otherwise it isn't any fun."

    "Master," Juzo controlled his urge to throw up. That had gotten his predecessor killed. "What would you like us to do----" He indicated the blind, limbless thing mewling in the corner as it bled to death.

    "Send him back home . . .alive if possible." Oda smiled his slow sweet smile, "He has a wife and children after all."

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