With an unearthly howl, Chief Ohira plunged the sword deep into his abdomen. Sano’s samurai spirit applauded Ohira’s decision, which precluded the disgrace of public execution and restored honor, but his conscience sickened over causing another death. He realized he’d thought he could somehow save the chief. But Sano couldn’t succumb to guilt now; penance must wait. Iishino was watching Ohira’s death agonies. Sano lunged. He locked one hand over the interpreter’s, the other around the gun barrel.

“Let go, let go!” Iishino screamed.

As they struggled for control of the weapon, it wavered wildly in their joined grip, describing haphazard arcs in the air. The scrawny Iishino was stronger than Sano had expected—a bundle of wiry sinew and frenetic energy. He stomped and kicked with his wooden-soled shoes. Pain hobbled Sano’s legs. Shrieking like a child throwing a tantrum, Iishino rammed his head into Sano’s chest. Sano stumbled, trying to keep hold of the gun. Iishino spat in his eyes. Hot saliva blinded him. They whirled in a bizarre dance. Sano forced the gun upward, aiming at the ceiling. If he could discharge the bullet harmlessly …

But Iishino’s fingers covered the trigger guard. When Sano tried to push them away, the interpreter ducked his head and bit him on the forearm. Sano involuntarily relaxed his pressure on the gun. Iishino yanked it between them so that the barrel was directly in front of Sano’s eyes.

“I’m going to kill you!” The interpreter spoke through teeth red with Sano’s blood. “I hate you and everyone else. You made me a criminal!”

Straining and gasping, Sano tried to push the gun away, to wrench it from Iishino’s hands. He slammed Iishino against a pillar. Still the interpreter didn’t let go. The cold steel barrel grazed Sano’s cheek. The gun held more terror for him than any blade, no matter how expertly wielded. Panic flooded his body and mind, banishing trained discipline as he fought. Iishino’s hot, sweaty fingers clawed his hands, seeking the trigger. In desperation, Sano pulled the interpreter clear of the pillar. He locked his leg around Iishino’s and yanked.

Iishino emitted a surprised yip and toppled backward. They crashed to the floor, Sano landing on top. The impact drove a bolt of pain into his injured shoulder. Now the gun was trapped between their chests, with Sano’s weight immobilizing their locked hands and pinning Iishino down. Sano tried to shake the weapon and dislodge the flint. The interpreter jabbed bony knees against Sano, who lurched sideways to protect his groin. Over and over they rolled, their faces almost touching, the gun barrel separating their chins. Now Sano forgot his wish to see this murderer, traitor, and enemy formally tried and executed. To survive, he must kill Iishino.