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Then came a bitter realization that the cells were escape-proof. Then numbed disbelief and chagrin that despite their almost superhuman skills there was no way out. They were absolutely and hopelessly trapped.
Positive identification of Pitt and Giordino was made by Roy Orita after studying videotapes of their capture. He immediately reported his revelation to Kamatori.
"Are you certain?"
"Yes, there is no doubt in my mind. I sat across a table from them in Washington. Your security intelligence staff will bear me out after a genetic code check."
"What is their purpose? They are not professional agents."
"They were simply diversionary decoys for the team given the assignment for destroying the control center."
Kamatori couldn't believe his luck in finding the man he'd been ordered to assassinate appear out of the blue into his own backyard.
He dismissed Orita and went into solitary meditation, his mind meticulously planning a cat-and-mouse game, a sport that would test his hunting skills against a man like Pitt, whose courage and resourcefulness were well known, and who would make a worthy competitor.
It was a contest Kamatori had played many times with men who had opposed Suma, and he had never lost.
Pitt and Giordino were heavily guarded around the clock by a small crew of sentry robots. Giordino even struck up a friendship of sorts with one of the robots who had captured them, calling it McGoon.
"My name is not McGoon," it spoke in reasonable English. "My name is Murasaki. It means purple."
"Purple," Giordino snorted. "You're painted yellow. McGoon fits you better."
"After I became fully operational, I was consecrated by a Shinto priest with food offerings and flower garlands and given the name Murasaki. I am not operated by telepresence. I have my own intelligence and decision-making capability and can control appropriate operations."
"So you're an independent free agent," said Giordino, astounded at speaking to a mechanism that could carry on a conversation.
"Not entirely. There are limits to my artificial thought processes, of course."
Giordino turned to Pitt. "Is he putting me on?"
"I have no idea." Pitt shrugged. "Why don't you ask him what he'd do if we made a run for it."
"I would alert my security operator and shoot to kill as I have been programmed," the robot answered.
"Are you a good shot?" Pitt asked, intrigued with conversing with artificial intelligence.
"I am not programmed to miss."
Giordino said succinctly, "Now we know where we stand."
"You cannot flee the island and there is no place to hide. "You would only die by drowning, eaten by sharks, or be executed by beheading. Any escape attempt would be illogical."
"He sounds like Mr. Spock."
There was a knock from the outside, and a man with a permanently scowling face pushed the fusuma sliding door with its shoji paper panes to one side and came in. He stood silent as his eyes traveled from Giordino standing beside the robot to Pitt, who was comfortably reclining on a triple pile of tatami mats.
"I am Moro Kamatori, chief aide to Mr. Hideki Suma."
"Al Giordino," greeted the stocky Italian, smiling grandly and sticking out his hand like a used car salesman. "My friend in the horizontal position is Dirk Pitt. We're sorry to drop in uninvited but--"
"We are quite knowledgeable of your names and how you came to be on Soseki Island," Kamatori interrupted Giordino. "You can dispense with any attempt at denials, self-defeating tales of misdirection, or counterfeit excuses of innocence. I regret to inform you that your diversionary intrusion was a failure.
Your three team members were apprehended shortly after they exited the tunnel from Edo City."
There was a hushed quiet. Giordino gave Kamatori a dark look, then turned to Pitt expectantly.
Pitt's face was quite composed. "You wouldn't happen to have anything to read around here?" He spoke boredly. "Maybe a guide to the local restaurants."
