Shiro pulled out a flashlight and turned it on. As he reached for the doorknob he nodded to the others, each gripping a handle of the nunchaku looped over his neck. He knew where the bed was. He'd shine the light on it and Jun and Koji would take care of whoever was in it.

    He pushed open the door and glided inside. The man he'd seen with the sword lay in bed. He jolted upright, raising a hand against the light in his eyes.

    "What the f—?"

    Jun and Koji's nunchaku whipped through the air and cracked against the man's skull. He fell back without a sound and did not move. Blood began to leak onto his pillow.

    Shiro flashed the light around and found a katana in a scabbard leaning in a corner. He handed the flashlight to Jun and grabbed it. He pulled the blade free and held it in the flash beam. He had seen the photos so many times, he knew the pattern of holes and defects by heart. This was it. This was the katana the Order sought. Akechi-sensei would be so proud.

    A strange, vaguely unpleasant feeling coursed through him as he gripped the handle. He couldn't identify it… he'd never felt anything like it before. He felt strong… powerful…

    Suddenly a noise at the door and a voice—

    "Hey, what's goin on?"

    Jun swung the beam, revealing a disheveled man in underwear. Without thinking, Shiro thrust the sword at him and watched with shock as it sank into the left side of his chest.

    Immediately he withdrew it and staggered back, horrified. What had he done? He hadn't meant… he'd reacted… it almost seemed the sword had reacted for him… on its own.

    The man's eyes went wide, his mouth worked as blood spurted from his chest, then he sagged to his knees and held the worshipful pose for the last beats of his dying heart before slumping back onto the floor.

    Shiro looked around and saw Jun and Koji staring at him in awe.

    Then Jun bowed. "For the Order."

    "For the Order," Koji echoed, bowing as well.

    Shiro shook himself. "Yes, for the Order."

    But had it been for the Order? He felt as if it might have been for himself… or for the katana.

    As the other two dragged the body farther into the room, Shiro wiped the blade on the bedsheet, then, with strange reluctance, sheathed it. They closed the door behind them and headed back to the roof.

    There they found Yukio waiting with the rope. They lowered themselves to the alley and crawled into the van. The other three were softly congratulating one another and recounting the night's events. Shiro barely heard them. The shocked face of the man he'd killed filled his brain.

    "Don't look so down in the mouth, girl. No one's gonna hurt you. You're gonna be taken good care of."

    Dawn slumped in one of the basement chairs and looked up at the man called Darryl. She totally wanted to scream at him to get out, but she was screamed out. Cried out too. She felt as if she were spiraling down through an endless black void, with nothing to grasp, nothing to break her fall.

    Why did they want this baby? What was the Plan?

    Did it matter now? She was going to have to resign herself to the fact that she was doomed to have this baby. She didn't see any way around it.

    So okay. If that was the way it was going to be, she'd have to find a way to make the best of it, find a place in her head to totally retreat to for the next seven months while she waited for the baby. After that she'd get her life back and be on her way.

    Giving in… surrendering… getting all fatalistic. She didn't know if she could do that, didn't know if she could stop looking for an escape route.

    She clenched her fists and ground her teeth as she thought about how she had only one person to blame for all this.

    Me.

    Her mother had totally warned her from the start about Jerry, but did she listen? No way. She had all the answers and Mom had none. She'd let Jerry suck her in with that smooth line about designing video games for women and how she'd be the toast of the gaming world. Total bullshit. But it worked. She let him into her life and into her body, without a clue as to who he really was. And now she carried his baby.

    God, if she'd only known… she might have set his bed on fire and watched him burn. No, not might have—would have.

    "Whatsamatter?" Darryl said. "Cat gotcha tongue?"

    "When's Jerry coming?"

    That was what she dreaded most—facing that sick, perverted son of a bitch, watching him totally gloat over her, telling her she could run but not hide from him.

    Darryl frowned. "Jerry? Jerry who?"

    So that was how it was going to be—play games with her till he showed up.

    She stared at the floor. "Leave me alone."

    "Hey, don't be mean to me now. We're gonna be seeing a lot of each other. We might as well be friends. It'll make the time go faster and easier, know what I mean?"

    She looked up at him. What was he implying? Give him a little something and he'd make things easier for her?

    Her stomach turned. Henry had been clean and neat and she'd still had to force herself to do him. This dirty creep… God, she'd rather die.

    "Could you just leave me alone? I've had—"

    Something thumped against the door. Darryl spun.

    "Menck? That you?"

    Another thump.

    He started for the door. "Hey, Menck. Whatta you think—?"

    The door burst open and three black-clad figures piled in. They didn't hesitate or break stride as they swarmed toward Darryl. He tried to backpedal but two of them were on him in a second, whacking him with their nunchucks. She knew what they were because some kid at school had split his scalp trying to show off with a set. His head had bled like Darryl's was bleeding now.

    She opened her mouth to scream but the third was already in her face, clamping a hand over her mouth.

    He looked Japanese—all three did. He had some sort of black scarf wrapped around his head and the lower half of his face, but she could tell he was Japanese.

    "Shhh!" He put a finger to his lips in a surprisingly gentle gesture. "We are here to rescue you," he said in thickly accented English.

    Rescue? That could only mean Mr. Osala. He must have hired these… these ninjas to bring her back.

    She was totally ready to go. She'd thought his place was a prison. This was a hundred, a thousand times worse. And he had no agenda beyond keeping her safe from Jerry.

    She nodded and pulled the ninja's hand away. "Let's go. Let's get out of here."

    He pushed her in front of him and signaled the other two who led the way out. She had to step over Darryl, and then over the one called Menck. She noticed both were still breathing.

    Her rescuers guided her up to the ground floor, out a back door, and into a waiting van that held five more of their kind. They all cheered when they saw her. She was squeezed between a couple of them and largely ignored as they yammered away in Japanese. One of them held up a sword and those with her cheered.

    As they pulled out of the alley and onto the street, it finally became real that she was free. So easy. These guys had just waltzed in, busted a few heads, and led her out.

    Jerry was going to be so totally pissed.

    The driver wound this way and that until they came to a parked van just like this one. Half of them switched over, and then her van got rolling again.

    "Where's Mister Osala?" she said.

    The three surrounding her in the back stared her way but said nothing. Their flat black eyes held no hint that they had any idea what she was talking about.