“Oh, I know,” said Daeng. “Defeat can be confusing. We should have suspected you a lot sooner. That was a very thorough account of Hiro Uenobu’s early life you gave us. In fact it contained information that one would never find in standard service documents. You could only have learned it from someone who knew Hiro and had worked with him and had access to his records. I’m assuming that someone is Yuki-san. I also assume he’s paying you a significant amount of money for your service. Perhaps he’s offered you a share of the treasure.”

“And here’s the way you probably imagined it all to go,” said Siri. “Yuki-san has the villagers at the school. It’s a small village so that will be about . . . a hundred people? You might actually think Yuki-san plans something innocent. Perhaps he’ll give the villagers a warning not to tell anyone what they’ve seen here and let them go home. That would be only fair considering they haven’t done anything wrong. Deep down, you’re a good person, so you’re hanging on to the hope that he isn’t planning to massacre the lot of them.”

“How awful that would be,” said Daeng. “Bringing back memories of the war. The yokai let loose again.”

“They aren’t like that anymore,” said Beer.

“You know? I was wondering whether they’d already wiped out all those innocent women and children,” said Siri. “But then it occurred to me they’re just waiting for you to deliver the last two loose ends. The sounds of gunfire and screaming would have echoed along that old tunnel. We might have rebelled or turned back. So, no. Your last task is to deliver us, take a step back, and watch the bullet fest.”

“Of course, Comrade Beer, you’re a loose end, too,” said Daeng. “You’ve served your purpose. They don’t need you anymore. I doubt they’ll give you a chance to step back. You’ve been helpful but they have their gold now and you’re not one of them. I’d say it’s sayonara, Beer-san.”

“I know you’re imagining your share of the treasure,” said Siri. “That thought has turned you blind.”

They saw the flashlight of someone approaching along the track ahead of them.

“Your choice,” said Siri, handing Beer back his pistol. The doctor nodded at him and ducked into the bushes.

The man on the path appeared around the bend. His lamp was attached to his helmet. He was in his sixties with a heavy-looking paunch but he wore full Japanese combat uniform. He raised his weapon when he saw Beer standing there with the old woman.

“It’s you,” said the Japanese in heavily accented Vietnamese. “What kept you? We’ve been waiting.”