“You’re saying that it’s actually the Japanese intelligence network?”

“Of course it is! China is a mess—they still farm with donkeys, for Christ’s sake. And while they’re definitely starting to flex their muscles, they’re an inward-looking people by nature. Not the Japanese, though. They’re always peeking out from that little island of theirs at what their neighbors have that they can use.”

“Okay then,” Randi said. “Can we assume you asked us to bring the shovels because you’re agreeable to letting us make some copies?”

Again his expression turned uncertain, and again his reticence didn’t last long. “Yeah. I know your rep, Randi. But you didn’t get any of this from me, right?”

“Never heard of you,” she said, opening the hatch on the Gremlin and pulling out two of the three shovels inside. She handed one to Fujiyama, who immediately pointed at Smith. “What about him?”

“He’s going to hang back, watch the cars, and keep an eye on our six.”

She set off with Fujiyama hustling to keep up with her and Smith said a silent thanks. Normally, he’d think a knoll like that looked good for running a few laps. Today it looked like Mount Everest.

*  *  *

Randi knew she was going too hard up the steep grade but getting her blood pumping helped her think. She had one hand wrapped around a shovel and the other around a Beretta, but was still starting to wish she hadn’t let Smith off the hook. They were exposed as hell—no electronics, no backup, and in terrain that favored an ambush.

That wasn’t what scared her the most, though. What had her charging up the mountain at a pace few people could follow was the fact that the wild tale they’d just heard seemed completely plausible. She almost wanted to turn around and drive away. To never have to look at a stack of paper that told her World War III was winding up a few thousand miles to the east.

She couldn’t hear Fujiyama’s ragged breathing anymore and she slowed to let him catch up.

“Is it all the way at the top?” she asked as he dropped his shovel and bent at the waist to breathe. A weak nod.

“Why here?” she said, starting out again, this time at a slower pace.

“No reason,” he managed to get out. “That’s the point. No trail to lead here.”

It took another fifteen minutes to cover what she estimated at about five minutes’ worth of ground, but without him she wasn’t going to find much. When they finally crested the top, Fujiyama pulled out a compass and a measuring tape, starting to make calculations based on a jagged rock set into the ground next to a stump.