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I was after you in particular because my bio-father left you his personal weapons when he died last month." "Oh? Knowing Sandemans, I assume there was a reason." "Uh-huh. He was the one you gave need-release to on Piper's World." "Ah." Owajima smiled.
Nevan chuckled, deciding that an hour or so shouldn't really make any difference. "I'd like that; thanks." The receiver in Owajima's ear chimed softly; he turned on his throat mike not the surgically implanted comm unit many ranking Imperials were given, but the external type used as far back as pre-atomic times and answered. "Owajima here."
If Nevan had either deserted or harmed his chosen lady, it would have been all over the news channels, and there had been nothing. The likelihood, then, was that he was on a mission for her a mission that somehow concerned him. Owajima smiled slowly at that. Very well, he would take all possible precautions, though he no longer believed they would be necessary.
He had never used them against people who had done nothing to deserve such treatment, and he didn't really want to. He didn't have any choice, though. He would do whatever proved to be necessary to accomplish his objectives. Three weeks, five planetfalls, and almost 1500 light-years of routine checking later, Nevan discovered his quarry's name: Kiyoshi Owajima.
That should have been frightening, but Nevan couldn't help grinning; the feel of air on his cheek instead of synthiskin agreed with the tiny indications he could read from his captor. Owajima was disciplined, beautifully so, but not well enough to hide everything. "I'm honored to meet you, Colonel Owajima.
It would take DarLowrie perhaps a week to reach Olathe, another week and a half to get to Nippon-Ni; that would give Owajima time to make adequate preparations, then visit with his family for several days. He smiled to himself, transmitted the necessary messages, and returned his attention to his immediate mission.
The Sandeman had filed a flight plan for Olathe, where Owajima had spent some time and built up a respectable net; that seemed most promising. It was unfortunate, Owajima thought, that he was unable to investigate DarLowrie himself; that would have to wait until he was finished with the final touches on his present case, a matter of a day or two. Still, he could begin making preparations.
Being arrested without cause would be justification for mind-calling his thakur, and he was sure she'd intervene; Owajima had to be the only agent with an entire planetary police force to call on for backup, which made him an unrepresentative opponent. Besides, Nevan admitted, he relished the challenge.
DarLowrie had acted precisely as could be expected from a Sandeman assassin, it seemed, though Owajima was pleased his agent reported nothing more serious than bruises. He frowned, though, when he reached the last paragraph. "Personal impressions: I can't pinpoint it, but something about him reminds me of you. The feeling you give me of being looked into more than at, maybe.
That was conclusive enough for Owajima; if, contrary to all other evidence, DarLeras had gone renegade, he would have removed the tattoo rather than simply covering it. When Nevan woke, he was spread-eagled, tied to his bunk with a grim-faced Oriental man holding a gun on him.
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