Floating City by Eric Van Lustbader

Ushiba’s hands, jammed deep in the pockets of his overcoat, were clenched into fists. “The Godaishu is of paramount importance to me because I have seen that it can accomplish what our government never will—mastery over international trading in everything from computer chips to arms dealing, petrochemicals to drug traffic.”
    Ushiba grunted. “The time of the Godaishu is here at last. Our economy is in a shambles. Profits across the board are down, and many major keiretsu have given in to the unthinkable: downsizing operations by laying off employees and abandoning factories. Most troubling, the extent of the damage to our banking structure is still unknown. How many more will fail before we have seen the end of the disaster? And the crafty Americans are determined to see a strong yen. They claim it helps their trade deficit with us, but I know the real reason: they know that a strong yen cripples our recovery because it erodes our sales in all overseas markets. The Americans have us down and mean to keep us there for as long as they can.”
    “Ah, but all of this havoc plays right into the hands of the Godaishu,” Akinaga said. “The chaos of financial disaster is the perfect environment for us to flourish and expand, don’t you agree?”
    Ushiba nodded. “Yes, I do. But this is all the more reason for the council to strive to work toward the one goal of the Godaishu: total global economic domination.”
    The night sky was red and purple, as if it had undergone a savage beating. In a moment, Nicholas understood that this weird illumination came from the convoy of vehicles that straddled the last section of road toward Cu Chi. He cupped his hands around his eyes, saw to his horror not merely police cars but army mobile troop carriers.
    “They’ve called out all the dogs,” he said softly.
    “That’s right,” Bay said. “You must have some very powerful enemies, Chu Goto.”
    “Perhaps we both do.”
    Bay gave him a hard look. “I pay a great deal of money each year to make certain I don’t.” She turned away, slid back down the hillock against which they had flung themselves.
    They were perhaps three hundred yards from the road. Already Nicholas could see the bus they had been on stopped at the checkpoint. The driver, hands on his head, was being questioned by an officer while a squad of soldiers swarmed over the vehicle like ants over a cube of sugar.
    “There are too many of them,” Bay said as if to herself. “We’ll never make it overland to Cu Chi.”
    “Let’s get back to Saigon, then.”
    “Impossible. It’s already past three in the morning. It will be light before we can get there on foot and we’d be without cover. Besides, I have a feeling we’d run right into another checkpoint long before then.”
    “Shouldn’t we at least try?”
    Bay shrugged, and they headed over the hillock, back toward Saigon. But within a hundred yards, she pushed him to the damp earth, pointing ahead of them where the headlights of jeeps and trucks lit up the horizon.
    “You see, I was right,” she whispered. “They’re waiting for us. We are in the middle of a gigantic trap with the jaws slowly closing on us. We have only one way to go.”
    They turned, heading back to Cu Chi, but by the time they reached the hillock, the situation had already changed. At kokoro, the heart of Tau-tau, Nicholas had allowed his senses free reign to quest outward through the darkness, and immediately he had encountered a host of malign presences on the move. He crouched beside Bay. “They’re coming this way,” he said.
    Bay scrambled up to the crest of the hillock. “How can you tell? I can’t see anything.”
    Nicholas, closing down his tanjian eye, said, “Now you must trust me, Bay. There are at least a dozen soldiers coming this way. Maybe the driver betrayed us.”
    “No, he wouldn’t. He—” She broke off, closed her fingers around his wrist. “Come on,” she whispered as if they could already be