She turned the wheel to pull back out into the street but then stopped before releasing the brake. Her first instinct was to try to make it to him, but what was the point? It would be almost an hour’s drive, and that was only if the GPS in her phone stopped inexplicably switching into Japanese.

Her target was only about a mile away and her second instinct was to go for him despite Smith’s warning. Akito Maki was the last lead they had, and if they blew it what was the next step? Snatching random Japanese scientists, hooking them up to car batteries, and asking if they’d been spending their weekends building a science fiction army?

She looked across the street and saw an Imperial Japanese war flag flying over the entrance to an apartment building. It was one of probably twenty she’d seen that day. And then there were the demonstrations, T-shirts, banners, and barricades erected in front of Japan’s government buildings. Grocery stores were having a hard time keeping their shelves stocked as people squirreled away supplies to get them through what everyone seemed certain was coming.

She slammed a hand into the wheel and it felt so good she did it a few more times. Normally she’d assume that Smith had escaped whatever he’d gotten himself into, but his injuries were slowing him down badly. More likely he was dead or captured.

A man in a police uniform was approaching from the north and he pointed sternly at her. She gave an apologetic nod and eased back into traffic. The GPS in her phone warned her in Japanese that she was headed away from her destination. She turned it off and dialed Fred Klein.

If they ever needed one of his miracles, it was now.

44

44

Northeastern Japan

Jon Smith opened his eyes and stared up at the fluorescent light hanging above him. Beyond it was an earthen ceiling, and judging from the rock jammed into his spine, the floor was similarly constructed.

He eased into a sitting position and made a quick survey of his surroundings: a small cave that, based on the uniform striations in the walls, had been created by machine. The space was no bigger than ten by ten feet and there was a single door built out of a reddish material with a visible carbon fiber weave. Other than that, there was only a simple wood table and a couple of matching chairs.

He stood unsteadily, focusing for a moment on his physical condition. His back wasn’t as bad as it could be—thank God Ueda’s office had been on the first floor. Not that it had done the engineer much good.

He remembered hitting the ground with the man’s injured wife and calling Randi. After that, there was nothing until he’d woken up in this place.