Disclaimer: The characters and concepts of The Master belong to Trans World Entertainment. The characters and concepts of Hardcastle & McCormick belong to Patrick Hasburgh and Stephen J. Cannell. This is for entertainment purposes only. No money is being made.

Notes #1: Goodbye Doesn't Mean Forever was originally published in the zine Dial "S" #2 edited by Cathi Brown.

Notes #2: The Master was a television show that aired in 1985 starring Lee Van Cleef, Timothy Van Patten and Sho Kosugi. It aired for thirteen short episodes. Basically the plot was this: John Peter McAllister, the Master( played by Lee Van Cleef) was a ninja. He stayed in Japan after WWII and learned the discipline. When many of the ninja wanted to return to the old ways of being assassins for hire, McAllister decided to leave the sect to search for his daughter, Teri, who he didn't know existed until he received a letter from her. Okasa(played by Sho Kosugi), the Master's student, was one of the biggest supporters of returning to the old ways. McAllister's leaving was viewed as betrayal, and the punishment is death. Okasa hunts the Master to carry out the sentence. Max(played by Timothy Van Patten) is a drifter. Estranged from his father after his mother and brother were killed in a light airplane crash because the pilot was drunk, Max dropped out of school to travel with his hamster, Henry, in his van. He and McAllister met in a bar(think bar fight). Max offered to help McAllister find his daughter in exchange for the Master teaching him the ninja ways.

Max Keller stared glumly at the traffic light. He'd been in a bad mood for a few days now and couldn't pin down the reason, but no matter what he tried to do about it, it wouldn't go away. He and the Master were back in the L.A. area, following yet another slim lead to McAllister's daughter; a lead that had fizzled out then developed a new trail. In the meantime, Max had stopped to see his dad only to learn that Patrick Keller was out of town at a lawyer's convention. Then Max had visited his old friend Jerry Donovan and his sister Talia. Almost a year ago, Max and the Master had helped Jerry, a policeman, deal with some corrupt cops. Now Jerry was newly and very happily married, and Talia was engaged to a stockbroker. Max was glad for them both, but the fact of their settling down disturbed him and he found himself wondering if he should do something more with his life than wander around in his van. He wasn't getting any younger, he thought sententiously, and what had worked for him in his early twenties seemed wrong this side of twenty-five.

It didn't help that McAllister had been in a bad mood, too, or at least an uncommunicative one. He'd been trying to find his daughter for about a year without success. Maybe that was what was bothering him, speculated Max. But it almost felt like the Master was getting tired of him. Two people couldn't be together so constantly without getting on each other's nerves.

Max valued his ninja lessons and wanted them to continue, but he felt guilty too, as if he was pleasing himself rather than accepting responsibility. He couldn't spend the rest of his life being thrown through bar windows, now could he?

A blaring horn behind him awoke him to the green light and he noticed that McAllister had been daydreaming too. Ordinarily he would have made a comment about Max's funk, but how he only stared unseeingly at the road ahead.

"How much further, Max?"

"We're almost there. This guy who's been dating Teri will probably know where she is." And then we'll go our separate ways, he thought to himself, feeling miserable at the idea but knowing if it was what McAllister wanted, that's the way it would have to be. In his present dark mood, it was all right for him to decide to leave but it would hurt a lot if it was the Master's idea. Damn it, no matter what he did or the Master did, somebody would be in the wrong and both of them would be hurt.

Teri had been dating a man named Michael O'Bannon while she worked at a local flying service not that far from Patrick Keller's office. O'Bannon had been her boss, too. But now Teri was gone. She must have a wanderlust as strong as Max's own, or maybe, like him, she was searching for something she hadn't found yet. Max had believed he had found it when he met McAllister, but now he wondered whether he had a lot further to go or if he was just looking in the wrong place.

Pulling the van off the highway, he headed toward the small airport. O'Bannon Air was easy to find; a large billboard pointed the way. Max stopped in front of the Quonset hut with the sign "Office" displayed prominently and both of them got out of the van and went in.

A young woman with white-blonde hair and big blue eyes looked up from a typewriter when they entered. "Hi," she said. "What can we do for you? We can fly you anywhere in the country and we offer flying lessons, too."

"We want to talk to Mr. O'Bannon," said McAllister.

"Michael's in San Francisco and won't be back for two days," the girl said. "I can book you through. We've got two other pilots--well, we will by this afternoon. We had somebody quit--the replacement is due at one."

"Teri McAllister?" suggested Max.

"Hey, right. Do you know Teri?"

"This is her dad," Max explained, disappointed.

"Oh, wow!" The girl's eyes grew wide. "Teri's dad. Did she know you were coming? She didn't leave a message or anything."

"No, I just hoped to find her here." McAllister's voice was tired. "Did she leave a forwarding address?"

"Well, no..." Her voice trailed off. "She and Michael had a big fight. I shouldn't say this, but if you're her dad, you've got the right to know. Michael wanted to marry her, but she wouldn't--I don't know why, but she said there was something she had to do first and wouldn't tell him what it was. He got mad and said if she loved him she'd trust him, and she said it didn't sound like he trusted her. It got out of hand. I think it'll blow over and she'll come back, but I don't know. You could leave your phone number or check back in a few days."

McAllister agreed. "We'll check into a motel and leave a number then. If you'll have Mr. O'Bannon call us, that would help." He led the way out of the office.

"Talk about gossips! " Max muttered when they were back in the van. "I wonder if she listened at the door. " He headed back toward the highway.

"Probably," said McAllister with a faint smile. "But I hope she was right about Teri coming back. We can talk to O'Bannon and see if he expects her back. A few days isn't too long to wait." He cocked his head at Max and asked questioningly, "Is it?"

Startled, Max blurted out. "What? No, it's not."

"But you're getting ready to leave, aren't you?"

"What're you doing, reading my mind?!"

"I hardly have to do that, Max. You've been acting strangely ever since we left the Donovans."

"Yeah, well," said Max lamely. He hadn't been quite ready for a confrontation yet. "It's just that I should be doing something."

"And you aren't now?" McAllister's voice was gentle but when Max glanced at him he thought he saw hurt in the older man's eyes, and he looked away again quickly.

"Yeah, I'm doing something and it means a lot to me, " he insisted. "But I can't do it all my life. I'm not getting any younger here. I should be doing something-something, well, permanent. I should settle down."

"I agree."

"You do?" Max looked at him in surprise. That's half what he'd been afraid of, that the Master was getting tired of him, too.

"Both of us have always known that traveling around this way wasn't a permanent solution," the Master explained. "It fit in with finding Teri, and you seemed to like it. But ever since you got back on good terms with your dad, I think you knew you wouldn't want to stay on the road forever. "

"I have been thinking about it. Maybe seeing Jerry and Talia settling down like that made me think about it. L don't know."

"That's the whole problem," the Master agreed. "You don't know. Wanting to settle down isn't enough, Max. You have to know what you want to do. If you plan to get a job, you should find something you'll like enough to stick with, something you can respect."

"Anything would beat getting thrown through bar windows."

"Would it?" McAllister asked softly. "You get a kick out of traveling around in spite of how you're feeling now. Get a job you like and everything will be fine. Get one you don't and you'll be back on the road within a year."

"I want to do something worthwhile," Mex agreed, thinking as soon as he said it that it sounded smug.

"Don't you think you're doing something worthwhile now?"

Max shot him a surprised look. "Sure," he said quickly. He didn't want to hurt the Master's feelings, and he honestly didn't think he'd been wasting his time. "I've learned a lot about myself, and my temper is under control--well a lot more than it was when you first met me. But how long can I go on training? Training's supposed to lead somewhere."

"Do you think you'll wake up one day and know everything so you won't have to train any more?"

"Sure, go ahead, put me in the wrong." He caught himself."Sorry. I guess I'm a little touchy. I know some training goes on all your life. I don't plan to quit learning. But it should lead somewhere. Let's face it, I'm never going to make a living as a ninja, not unless I teach, and I don't know enough for that yet." He grinned. "I'd kind of like to teach it someday," he realized. "But I've got this feeling I should be doing something with my life."

"You are doing something with you life, Max. You've been learning about Max Keller. I think you've made a lot of progress. You're at a plateau now and it's normal to want to move on. But it should be because of what's inside you not because of what your friends are doing. Do you want a house and a new car and a big screen TV and all the other trappings of success?"

"No," said Max quickly. "That's not important. I guess that's just how some people prove to themselves how important they are. But I've got a lot of offer. Maybe I'm avoiding responsibilities. What do you think?"

"You don't avoid responsibilities, Max." McAllister clapped him on the shoulder. "You take on more than your share sometimes."

"I got that from you. " Max grinned.

"Did you? I seem to remember you coming to my rescue in Ellerson before you even knew who I was. "

"Or what you were," Max agreed with a reminiscent grin. "When you took out that bar, I couldn't believe my eyes."

McAllister smiled too. "That's not what I meant, Max. You were willing to take responsibility to help me even though you didn't know anything more about me than that I seemed to be in trouble. So no more about avoiding responsibilities. The farmers in Riverton, or the Pattersons or Carrie Brown will be the first to say how much good you could do and what a difference you made."

"Yeah, but--"

"But you're ready for a change. When we started traveling together, neither of us thought it would take this long to find Teri. I guess I can't expect you to take any more time with it. I'm holding you back."

"No, you're not." Max denied hastily. "I said I'd help you find your daughter and I will. I don't quit."

"I never said you did, Max. But maybe we're not meant to find her. I might not even like her if I did."

"Don't you start talking like a quitter now." Max gave him a serious look. "As long as you're hunting for Teri, I'll be here for you."

"Not if you resent it, Max. Not if it's keeping you from what you really want to do."

"But I don't know what I want to do, " Max all but wailed.

"Tell me what you feel," the Master urged.

"I like traveling around with you," Max admitted. "Only it seems like I should be doing more than that."

"Then you don't want to change, you only think you should."

"I'm traveling around the country seeing new places, meeting lots of people and having a great time. But it's like being on vacation. You can't stay on vacation forever."

"And your lessons?"

"Well, so some of it's hard work. It's still fun."

"Is fun so terrible?"

"No, it's great. But I feel guilty."

"Because you're enjoying yourself?"

"Maybe," Max conceded. "Dad always hoped Jimmy and I would come into the firm with him. But Jimmy's dead and that leaves me. Maybe I should go to law school."

"You'd make a good lawyer, Max. But that doesn't mean it's what you should do. It has to be what's right for you, not what your father expects of you. "

Max saw a motel and pulled into the parking lot. "I don't want to not do it either. I guess I'm kind of mixed up."

"I'm used to that." McAllister smiled. "Why not put it on hold for a few days until we talk to O'Bannon. Think about what you really want to do. I'll go along with whatever you decided, as long as it's what you really want. Fair enough?"

"More than fair." Max realized the Master could have bound him by threatening to give up the search for his daughter if Max left. Even if McAllister was getting tired of him, and Max didn't really believe that, he would let Max make his own decisions. Damn it. Max knew he didn't want the Master to walk out of his life. He'd learned more from him than anyone else he'd ever met, and he liked him and enjoyed his company.

He got out of the van and then stopped, glancing over his shoulder.

He'd just had the eerie feeling he was being watched. But he saw nothing more sinister than a ten year old kid holding a skateboard at the other end of the parking lot. Max shrugged and followed McAllister into the office to register.

That night, after a restaurant dinner, they returned to the motel and Max halted outside their room. "I'm gonna go get a coke," he said, pointing in the direction of the vending machines. "Bring you anything?"

"An Orange Crush if they have it," McAllister agreed and handed Max some change. "I'll take my shower while you're gone."

"Okay. Back in a few minutes." Max headed down the corridor.

The vending machines were in an alcove behind the stairwell, and the room was hot. Max dug change from his pocket and fed it into the Coke machine. For a minute nothing happened and he punched the buttons a second time. Finally the machine rumbled asthmatically and spat out a can of Coke. He bent over to reach it and it felt like the ceiling fell in on him. Before he totally lost consciousness, he felt arms grab him and pull him back, and he wondered vaguely with his last awareness if there had been an earthquake.

When McAllister emerged from the shower there was no trace of Max. He must have met a girl, the Master thought with an indulgent grin. If anything could distract Max, it was a pretty face. But after an hour, he began to wonder. Max wouldn't disappear this long without poking his head in to announce his plans. Not yet really worried, McAllister dressed and walked along to the vending machines to see if he could find any trace of Max. The room with the vending machines was deserted, but something about it didn't feel right. He looked around and saw that a can of Coke had been dispensed but not picked up. He reached for it, and though the can was sweaty from the hot room, it was still fairly cold. It hadn't been there long.

Why would Max buy his soda and then forget it? Puzzled, McAllister checked outside to see if Max's van was still there. It was. He walked through the motel corridors and talked to the desk clerk but he couldn't find Max. Finally he went outside and looked around the grounds. Nothing.

Now, genuinely worried, McAllister returned to their room to see if Max had come back. Maybe he's felt ill and gone looking for a doctor, though the desk clerk hadn't admitted to seeing him. But Max was not in the room either.

He'd been back about five minutes when there came a knock on the door. Max had a key and wouldn't knock, but if he'd been mugged or something he might have lost it, so McAllister flung open the door. "Where have you--" he began only to fall silent when he recognized his late-night visitor. Not Max after all, but his old nemesis, Okasa. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

His former pupil smiled. For once he was not wearing his ninja robes but street clothes and he held no weapons, only a manilla envelope. "Good evening, Master," he said. "May I come in?"

It wasn't hard to connect Max's disappearance with Okasa, and to refuse might be to risk Max. He stood aside holding the door open. "Please."

Okasa came in as if he owned the place, with an unconscious arrogance that annoyed the Master, though he kept his face blandly expressionless. He would give Okasa no clues and no assistance. The younger ninja looked around the room then sat down in its one chair, resting the envelope carefully on his knees. He looked like a guest at a tea party but for the insufferable smugness that peered out of his eyes whenever he looked at the Master.

McAllister seized the initiative. "Where's Max?"

"Your new pupil? Have you mislaid him? That is most careless of you, Master. "

"You know very well you have something to do with it," accused McAllister.

"Yes," Okasa agreed promptly, as if it hardly mattered to continue the game. "I know where he is. If I do not leave here unharmed, he will die. Most regrettable. I wish him no harm, and I am sure that you, his mentor, are even more concerned for his well-being."

"You may have captured him, but what makes you think you can keep him?"

"I know I can. I am not alone in this, Master. Do you remember Yukio Takuchi?"

"He was your first 'convert' to the old ways," McAllister answered. "I remember him very well." Takuchi was even more committed to the glory of the old days than was Okasa; were he as skilled as Okasa, he would be the leader now, but he was younger and had been studying a shorter time. Someday he would take Okasa's place, but he was ahead of his master in ruthlessness, and McAllister knew that Takuchi would not hesitate to kill Max if Okasa was even five minutes late.

"He is with Keller now," Okasa said with satisfaction. "I must be back by midnight. We will know if I am followed and if you do, Keller will die. However, if you do exactly as I say, Keller will be freed unharmed. You, unfortunately, will not be so lucky, but I believe you value your student's life above your own."

Okasa read him well. McAllister wouldn't jeopardize Max's life, certainly not without better odds than he had now. He would have to play this out and trust his enemy when he said Max wouldn't be harmed. Strangely enough, he did believe Okasa would harm Max only as a last resort, but he had no such faith in Takuchi's honor. Had he remained in Japan, he would have dismissed Takuchi from his school. Sharing Takuchi's beliefs, Okasa would view him differently, though Okasa had more honor than his pupil. Maybe that could be used in Max's behalf. "What do you want me to do." he asked.

"I want you to kill a man. It should be easy, for a ninja."

"I do not kill for hire," McAllister said coldly. "I left that way of life behind when I left Japan. I will not take another life."

"Then you condemn Max Keller to death. If you do not agree, Takuchi will kill him, and I will kill you."

"You might try," McAllister said wryly. He had managed to survive his battles with Okasa so far. But Takuchi would not offer Max an honorable death. He would kill him out of hand, giving Max no chance to defend himself. McAllister knew he couldn't accept Okasa's contract. Everything he believed in was revolted by it. No more. If he did it, his life would be nothing but a lie. But if he didn't, the person he cared about most would be slaughtered. Max was involved accidentally, only because he was McAllister's friend. Could Max be allowed to die for a principle?

He knew the principle had to matter, but he'd never been in a situation that was such a threat to his ethics before. Still, he was a ninja master and not without resources. Maybe he couldn't free Max this minute, but he could stall. He could see what Okasa wanted of him, receive a deadline, and then try to rescue Max. "What do you want me to do?"

"I thought you might see reason." Satisfied, Okasa opened the envelope. "I have accepted a contract to kill a man. But I think it better that you kill him instead and take the consequences if you are caught."

"You're repeating yourself, Okasa. You tried to do this to me before with Brian Elkwood."

"It is not the same," Okasa said. "You were not to kill Elkwood, only to appear guilty. This time you will be guilty. If you do not act, you will cause the death of your closest friend. If you accept the contract, you will betray your honor. There is no course open to you that will not destroy you. Even if you survjve, you will be ruined. I give you the option. Save your friend or save your honor. And I will be waiting for you in the shadows."

"Who am I to kill?" McAllister asked bitterly. Though he knew he could never do it, he had to pretend. He wouldn't abandon hope of saving Max. Okasa and Takuchi were only two men, and though they were ruthless men, they were not invincible. He could beat them, given time to plan. Until then, he had to stall like mad.

"A retired superior court judge," Okasa explained, pulling out a black and white photograph and passing it to the Master, who took it and stared at it."His name is Milton C. Hardcastle. "

"Ow! Ow! Get it off me."

Judge Milton C. Hardcastle, retired, looked over at Mark McCormick, who was fighting and losing a major battle with the hedge. "Come on, McCormick," he said. "It's only a few leaves and branches. It won't kill you."

"It might do permanent damage," complained McCormick, tearing away a thorny branch from around one leg and examining the injured limb in dismay. "Look. Blood. I've probably been scarred for life." He limped in a very phony way over to the table where the Judge was enjoying a glass of lemonade and poured himself a glass. "I may die and you sit there drinking lemonade. No wonder they call you Hardcase. You have no feelings."

Hardcastle peered at the minute red scratches on McCormick's leg. "I think you'll live, McCormick."

"But I'm supposed to go dancing tonight with Buffy."

"Buffy? Why don't the girls you know ever have good old fashioned American names, McCormick? Why do they all sound like refugees from a sitcom?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Judge, it's 1985. Names change with the times, which is more than I can say for a certain judge I know."

"It's a change for the worse, McCormick. It used to be that you knew where you stood with people. Now everybody has to play games. There's no honesty any more."

"You've gotta move with the times, Hardcase. When I go out with Buffy, we aren't dancing the jitterbug."

"That was before my time, McCormick."

Mark fixed his eyes on the Judge and said with awe, "You mean people actually danced that long ago?"

"You're asking for trouble, McCormick. Besides, you promised you'd have that hedge clipped before you went out tonight, and you're running out of time."

"But I'm walking wounded. How am I supposed to do it if I can't even limp over there?"

"Probably the same way you're going to dance tonight," the Judge remarked unsympathetically. Then he gave McCormick a suspicious glance. "Something's bugging you, kid. What is it?"

McCormick looked surprised. "What makes you think something's bothering me, other than being crippled for life, that is?"

"I don't know," said Hardcastle lightly. He had sensed a darker mood under McCormick's banter, and he had noticed McCormick working almost grimly without complaint until his run in with the thorn bush. That wasn't in character. Not that the kid wasn't a good worker when he put his mind to it, but he usually flapped his mouth all through any chore that didn't appeal to him, which was most of them. Hardcastle was pretty sure that when McCormick's parole was up, he probably would never trim a hedge again as long as he lived.

But there had been a look in McCormick's face when he thought no one was looking, and it worried the Judge, though he didn't intend to admit it. "If you say nothing's up, nothing's up, kid. But you ought to practice looking a little more convincing about it."

McCormick had taken an ice cube from his lemonade and was rubbing it idly on the scratches on his leg. "Maybe it's Buffy," he muttered without raising his eyes.

"What about her?" asked the Judge. "Is she giving you trouble? You have come to the right person for advice."

"Based on your vast and successful experience with the opposite sex?" McCormick demanded incredulously. "Who are you kidding, Judge?" Then he frowned. "Buffy doesn't know I'm an ex-con," he admitted. "It never came up. But when I was out with her last, she said something that made it sound like she'd drop me if she knew about it."

"That's her loss," the Judge retorted, angry at the girl. "Everybody makes mistakes. It takes somebody smart to learn from them. It sounds like she isn't smart enough. You might be well rid of her."

"But I like her, Judge. Anyway, people're always gonna pick up on it, no matter what I do. There's always gonna be somebody who knows about it and holds it against me."

"So what're you going to do, McCormick? Hide in a hole someplace and never meet anybody?"

"No," said McCormick softly. "I don't know, Judge. I've been thinking about it."

"Since you had to shoot Weed Randall?" Hardcastle asked quietly. Randall had shot the Judge and Mark had been forced to kill him. It had really bothered him and the Judge had been in the hospital for a long time, not always available to listen when Mark had needed to talk about it. He'd been home for less than a month now, and there were times he suspected Mark was still brooding about it. It had been one of the cruelest rites of passage the Judge had ever seen, and though Mark had done the right things and had made the best choices possible, it had to hurt him to know he'd killed a man, even a slime like Weed Randall. He was slowly coming to terms with it, and Hardcastle knew McCormick wouldn't be the man he thought he was if he found that easy. He just hoped he could help him through any lingering aftereffects.

"I guess so," McCormick admitted reluctantly. "I still dream about it sometimes, Judge. I know Weed wasn't much of a loss and I know he would have killed Sandy if I hadn't shot him, but he's dead because of me. I still don't know how I'm supposed to feel about it."

"I think the way you do feel is the right way," Hardcastle said. "I wish I could change it for you and take it away, but I can't. All I can say is that you have to go on. It happened and nothing can change that, but don't let it change you or how you feel about it. Doing the right thing's damn hard sometimes."

McCormick gave a shaky little laugh. "You're telling me." He heaved a sigh. "Do you think it's in my blood or something?"

"No, it's not in your blood, McCormick. Are you talking about your dad?"

"Well, you gotta admit he wasn't exactly a pillar of virtue, Judge."

"No, just human. He made mistakes and maybe he didn't learn as much as he should have from them."

"Maybe he wasn't lucky enough to know a good judge," said McCormick with a grin. "Do you think I'll turn out like him, Judge?"

That was a tricky question if he'd ever heard one. If Hardcastle said no, then he would be admitting his less than high opinion of Mark's father. And he couldn't say yes. It wasn't in McCormick to be like that. Maybe he'd got a wrong start in life, but the kid had integrity and the Judge couldn't imagine him becoming even remotely like Sonny Daye. "You're gonna turn out like Mark McCormick," he said, his voice deliberately gruff to hide emotion. "That's good enough for me and it should be good enough for you. Your dad didn't have anything to do with raising you."

"Maybe if he had--"

"If he had you might have been in more trouble than you were," the Judge said before he could stop himself.

"At least that's honest," said McCormick. "Thanks, Judge. I know I won't turn out like him, but I wish--" His voice trailed off and he busied himself refilling his glass.

"I know, kid," said the Judge sympathetically. "We've all got a lot of things we wish were different."

"So what do I do about Buffy?"

"How about leveling with her? If she's the type that holds your past against you, she's not worth it."

McCormick was silent for a moment, then he nodded. "Yeah, I guess so." He downed his lemonade and rose to his feet. "I guess I'd better tackle that killer hedge. You ought to pay me danger money for it."

"Danger money? Hah!"

McCormick resumed his pretended limp for a few steps. "If it attacks me again, I'm coming back over there and pour lemonade allover your head," he threatened. Then he turned. "Somebody's coming," he announced. "Who do you know that drives a black and grey van?"

"Why?" McAllister had asked Okasa, looking at the picture of Judge Hardcastle.

"Why is not your concern, Master. A man in his position makes many enemies. One of them has asked For his life and I have agreed. You are the weapon I use to complete my task."

"How long do I have?"

"Four days. " Okasa had looked at his wristwatch. "Friday. Midnight. He must be dead by then. You will wish to complete your task as soon as possible to insure Keller's release. He is held in an impregnable place. The only way to secure his freedom is to do as I instruct."

"How do I know he's even alive?"

"You have my word, " Okasa had told him quietly. "Do you accept that?"

Maybe he was a fool, but McAllister believed him. Okasa might lie to him or try to kill him, but he would honor his word above all. McAllister knew that much about him. "I accept that. But you have my word. If Max Keller dies, you will regret it. I promise you that."

"Max will die only if you fail. So you have only yourself to blame."

"That's true only if I let it be," McAllister had said. "Tell me about Hardcastle."

"As to why he must die, that is not our business. He sentenced someone to prison. That person now is free and wishes to 'keep his hands clean'. You need not know his name."

"Then tell me what I need to know about the Judge."

"He lives in Malibu. 101 Pacific Coast Highway," Okasa had told him. "He has no family but he has a history of helping to rehabilitate criminals. He has a former convict living on his estate, a man named McCormick who was in prison for auto theft. I understand Hardcastle is a former policeman and reputed to be dangerous. He will not be easy to kill."

He sounded like someone McAllister would like, and he wondered if McCormick was something of Hardcastle's protege in the way that Max was his. "I'll need to see his place. It will take me at least a day to decide how to kill him."

Okasa had looked at the Master with a combination of triumph and contempt. "I had not thought it would be so easy to convince you, Master."

"You leave me no choice. I can't let you kill Max." That much at least had been true. He couldn't let Max die if it could be prevented. Neither could he kill Hardcastle even to save Max's life. There was a time when he could have done it, but he had left that way of life behind him. If he returned to it, then he was no better than Okasa. If it was humanly possible, he would save Max, but he couldn't let Okasa guess what he planned.

"Why is he so important to you?" Okasa asked with genuine curiosity.

He told Okasa the truth. "He is all the family I have."

Okasa nodded, apparently satisfied. "You will visit the Judge's estate?"

"Tomorrow."

"Good." Okasa glanced at his wristwatch. "I must go now. You will not follow me."

"I won't follow you." It was too soon to risk Max's life. Right now the deck was stacked in Okasa's favor, but it didn't have to stay that way. Okasa left the picture of Hardcastle. He paused in the doorway. "This is between you and me, Master. Keller and even Takuchi are only pawns. If you cooperate, Keller will be free. You will not, but your pupil will continue his life." He left and McAllister closed the door and prepared himself for bed. If he had to rescue Max, he would need his rest.

McAllister spent the morning checking background on Judge Hardcastle. It was easy because the Judge had a knack for getting in the papers. He was a colorful character, and the more he read, the more McAllister was sure he would like him. He learned that the Judge's estate was called Gulls Way, that he was a widower whose only son had died in Vietnam. He was even more bereft of kin than McAllister was. Mark McCormick, the ex-con Okasa had mentioned, was paroled in the Judge's custody and had about a year to go. He did handyman work for the Judge and from what the Master could find out, sometimes helped the Judge pursue criminals who had gotten off on technicalities. Interesting. Hardcastle, for all his years on the bench, wasn't above taking the law into his own hands. And that gave the Master an idea.

It was mid-afternoon when he reached Gulls Way and parked Max's van beside the fountain. As he got out, two men came around the side of the house and McAllister walked over to meet them.

"Judge Hardcastle?" he asked.

"I'm Hardcastle. This is Mark McCormick." The Judge gestured to the curly haired young man in cut-offs and a tank top who held a pair of hedge clippers in his hand. "What can we do for you?"

"I think it's more what I can do for you," said McAllister. "It's an awkward story. My name is John Peter McAllister. Is there someplace we can talk without being overheard?"

"We won't be overheard," Hardcastle assured him. "McCormick, why don't you finish the hedge."

"No, Mr. McCormick can stay." McAllister had learned that McCormick was close to the Judge. He would need to hear what was going on.

They looked surprised, but the Judge led him back to the table where he'd been sitting and offered a glass of lemonade, though his face was somewhat wary. "We won't be overheard here, McAllister. What's your business with me?"

"There's a contract out on you. " McAllister said frankly. "I don't know who put it out, but I do know the man he hired, and he's ruthless. He'll stop at nothing."

"How do you know about it?" McCormick asked suspiciously.

"I know because he's trying to get me to carry out the hit."

McCormick jumped to his feet, but the Judge waved a hand to restrain him. "I take it you don't mean to accept the contract," he said. "Or you wouldn't be here. Sit down, McCormick, and we'll hear him out."

"I don't," McAllister agreed. "I no longer kill for hire."

"No longer?" McCormick's voice rose! involuntarily.

"You're a hit man?" the Judge remarked in the tones of one humoring an idiot. "I never heard of you before."

"Judge, you don't believe this, do you?" McCormick demanded excitedly. "He could kill you right now. Maybe he's even got a gun."

"I don't carry a gun," said McAllister. "I have enough weapons without one--ancient weapons. I won't use them, though. I'm here to prevent a death, not cause one." He added, "And I'm not a hit man, I'm a ninja."

"I don't trust him, Judge," McCormick insisted. "Maybe he broke out of a mental ward someplace. If he's a ninja and a hired killer, why should he want to save your life?"

"Because I've renounced the old ways of the ninja," McAllister explained. "I know it's a lot to believe, but man hired to kill you is a ninja, too. He was once my pupil, but he finds glory in the old days. He kills for hire. I left Japan when I turned my back on that life and now Okasa is trying to kill me."

"He's got a funny way of doing it," McCormick objected. "I don't buy any of this, Judge."

"He's not threatening me now. We'll hear him out. McAllister, is it? If he's trying to kill you, what makes him think you'll kill me?"

"Because he's got my pupil, Max Keller, hostage and has threatened to kill him if I don't kill you. Put yourself in my place, Judge. Suppose somebody held McCormick hostage. How would you react?"

"I see your point," Hardcastle conceded. "I knew a boy named Max Keller once, son of a lawyer I know, Patrick Keller."

"That's Max." McAllister had overlooked the possibility that Max might know the Judge.

"I haven't seen him for a few years. Keller had moved out here from New York. He's a good defense attorney. Max was just out of high school when I met him. He was talking about becoming a lawyer like his dad. There was a tragedy though. Keller's wife and older son died in a plane crash, I think it was. What's Max doing these days?"

"He's been traveling around the country studying with me and helping me look for my daughter, but that's not important now. Okasa and his pupil have Max and they've threatened to kill him if I haven't killed you by midnight on Friday."

"And are you going to?" Hardcastle asked.

"Judge!" yelped McCormick.

"Take it easy, McCormick. If he was going to kill me, he wouldn't come in here and warn me."

"Maybe he'd think it was the honorable thing to do," suggested McCormick. "Ninjas are supposed to have a code of honor."

"We do," McAllister confirmed. "But I haven't come to kill you, Judge. I don't know who's put out the contract. Maybe you could come up with some names and check it out with the police. But I want to keep this quiet if I can. I want a chance to rescue Max."

"That's right, we can't let them kill Max," Hardcastle agreed. "I'm not a ninja, but I'm not bad in a fight."

"Oh, no, there he goes again," McCormick muttered. "Hardcase, don't you ever take things easy?"

"Sure I take things easy," Hardcastle said. "I took things easy all morning, didn't I? But I won't sit back and let the son of a friend be killed because of me. Does Patrick know?"

"He's in New York for a lawyer's conference," McAllister explained. "I hope I can have Max free before he has to even know he was missing."

"So what do you want me to do?" the Judge asked. McAllister suspected he was looking forward to a little action. The kid, McCormick, still looked suspicious, but that was natural. Max was suspicious of Okasa and would be of anyone who threatened the Master. McCormick must feel the same about the Judge.

"The two men who have Max are ninjas, Judge. I don't think either of you are up to taking them on. I can do that myself. But I don't know where they've got Max," McAllister told them. "I want to find out so I can act."

"I'm not helpless here," Hardcastle said. "lf somebody's out to kill me, I want to know who it is and why, and I'm not gonna let some hood get away with it, or with killing somebody in my place. Do you have a problem with that, McCormick?" he asked, leveling a look at the kid.

"No, Judge. But I don't trust him. It could be a trap. He's admitted he's a hired killer and now he wants help to find their hideout. It sounds a lot like 'will you step into my parlor?"'

"I know it does," McAllister agreed with him. "I'm not a hired killer, McCormick. I've given all that up. You've done time and now you're here. You must know that a person can change. Grant me that same right."

"How'd you know I'd been in prison?"

"Okasa had that information. He's the one who accepted the contract. I know you have no reason to trust me other than my word, but I mean what I say. All I want is to find out where they've got Max. I need your help for that."

"Mine?"

"Okasa has a picture of the Judge. And I can't get near him when he's looking for me. But somebody he's never seen before might be able to follow him. Are you a good driver?"

Hardcastle laughed. "Can a bird fly? McCormick was a race car driver. He can handle it. What about it, McCormick? Are you in?"

"I can't believe this," complained McCormick incredulously, getting up and pacing back and forth in front of the table. "Somebody shows up with no credentials, claims to be a ninja and a hit man, says somebody's out to get you and you trust him?! Come on, give me a break."

"If he wasn't here, I wouldn't know anybody was after me. Let's see, who's out recently? Maybe it was Big Al Henderson. He got out last month and he's always had it in for me. What do you know about it, McAllister?"

"Nothing except he's recently out of prison and wants to keep his hands clean. He doesn't want to risk involvement."

"So it's somebody who's got a lot to lose," Hardcastle reasoned. "That leaves Henderson out. He was a punk. I don't think he'd hire somebody; he'd come after me himself. Maybe it was Madison. They never found all that loot from that bank job. Maybe he knows where it is. He could live pretty well on that for the rest of his life. We'll get headquarters to check it out and see who might have it in for me."

"I still don't see why we should trust him?" McCormick insisted. "Judge, we're talking about your life here."

"I ran into Patrick Keller a couple of months ago," Hardcastle remembered. "I asked after Max and he said Max was learning martial arts and had a good teacher. Patrick said you'd even helped him out once. I didn't hear your name, but if Keller trusts you, that's good enough for me. He's a good judge of character."

McCormick threw a suspicious look at McAllister. "It's up to you, Judge. What do you want me to do?"

"I haven't decided yet. We should figure out where they've got Max though. Do you know where we can find Okasa?"

"He's supposed to meet me tonight at seven. It won't be dark then--I think he planned it that way so he could watch me afterwards. But if someone he didn't know was waiting, they might be able to follow him back to his hideout."

McCormick turned to the Judge. "You're not going."

"Of course I'm going, McCormick. I'll stay out of sight but you should not be doing it on your own when it's my life that's at stake. But we can't take the Coyote. It's too conspicuous."

"Okasa might know what your truck looks like."

"So I'll rent a car. Come on, McCormick. Nobody's gonna make you fight ninjas. We just want to find out where Max Keller is."

"You're a stubborn old donkey, Hardcase."

"Donkey! Don't push it, McCormick." He turned to McAllister. "Where are you suppose to meet Okasa tonight?"

"I don't know yet. He'll call to set it up and then I'll let you know. I think you should be near the motel so you'll have time to get in place. Knowing Okasa, he'll either pick someplace in the middle of nowhere or someplace very crowded."

"I did have a date tonight," McCormick said to no one in particular. Then he turned to the Judge. "But I guess you're right about Buffy. I'll go give her a call." He headed for the house, casting dark looks over his shoulder at McAllister and muttering to himself.

"Don't listen to him, he's just worried about me," Hardcastle said. "He's a good kid, but don't tell him I said that. I wouldn't want it to get around."

McAllister grinned. "I know what you mean. I've said the same about Max. It always goes right to his head." His smile faded and he heaved a sigh. He knew he had a hell of a nerve recruiting Hardcastle and McCormick in the rescue. He couldn't let Okasa see the Judge because Okasa would feel honor bound to carry out the contract even if it interfered with his elaborate plan to hurt the Master. If the Judge showed up, Okasa would know for sure that McAllister wasn't going to kill him.

"You'll have to stay out of sight altogether," he pointed out. "If Okasa sees you, he'll know I've tricked him and he'll try to kill you and Max."

"I may not be a ninja, " Hardcastle said, "but I can handle myself. You don't have to worry about that. I might take some crazy chances if I was the only one involved, but I won't risk other people's lives."

"Then you're in?"

"You bet I'm in. McCormick too. He's only griping because he's worried about me. And he doesn't like killing--"

"And he doesn't like me because I've done my share of it," McAllister realized. "I can understand that. How will he handle this?"

"He'll do just fine."

Max Keller opened his eyes and promptly closed them again. His head throbbed painfully and when he opened his eyes, sunlight struck him full in the face. He turned away painfully, wincing as the movement jarred what felt like a massive goose egg on the back of his head. From the angle of the light, he couldn't tell if it was morning or afternoon, but it had been no later than ten at night when he'd been hit and his vague, confused memories of the interval didn't help. He knew he'd been snatched and was now imprisoned, his wrists handcuffed together around a metal post. Even if he had anything left in his pockets to pick the lock with, he couldn't reach them, and he was sure his weapons would have been taken. He'd heard voices speaking an unfamiliar language that sounded Oriental just outside his range of vision and when he finally got a glimpse of someone, the face had been unfamiliar. There'd been a pinprick in his arm and darkness had come back. He'd been hit over the head to render him unconscious and drugged to keep him that way, and now he felt awful, his head pounding, his stomach queasy and churning. Once he had been given water but it had only made him vomit. Now there was a foul taste in his mouth and he was thirsty, but the way his stomach felt he wasn't sure it would be safe to risk anything yet.

He felt alone, but he lay still feigning unconsciousness. He didn't want to be drugged again if he could help it. Besides, he needed to think, to try to make sense out of what was happening to him. Oriental voices? Okasa and an ally? Then it was because of the Master. Maybe he was held hostage to make the Master come to Okasa. Max was bait in a trap, and he hated that.

His stomach cramped and he doubled up involuntarily as best as he could with his hands bound to the post. He bit his lip to keep from crying out, but his movement had alerted a guard and someone came to stand over him just out of the range of his vision. "You are awake?" It was a stranger's voice, one that chilled Max because of the absolute lack of concern in it. He didn't care the least bit about Max's well-being. If Max died, he'd probably laugh. Repressing a shudder that was caused by the pain in his stomach and head, as much as the stranger's voice, he tried to turn his head, but the stranger retreated a little. "No, you will not see me." There was a faint hint of an accent to his voice, like Okasa's but not as strong as if he'd studied English longer.

"Why not?" demanded Max, annoyed when his voice came out hoarse and weak. "You're one of Okasa's pupils, aren't you?"

"Perhaps." A laugh. "But it is not your concern. You have nothing to do but wait."

"I'm sick," Max admitted, not because he expected concern but to see what his captor would do. "Will you let me go to the bathroom?"

"Later, maybe. Do not think you can escape me. I will drug you again, if I must, to keep you weak and unable to fight. All I must do is keep you alive. I do not have to keep you healthy."

Another spasm wracked Max's body and he gasped. "I don't think I'm gonna last that long."

"You will survive, weak one. So you must bear discomfort. I will not kill you."

"No, you'll just...let me die for lack...of treatment."

The man bent over and touched his forehead. "Your pulse is a little fast and you are not very feverish. It is just the drug. The side effects are unpleasant, I am told. Would you like some water?"

"Yeah." Max didn't feel like it, but he knew if he didn't, he'd get dehydrated. He struggled to sit up, ignoring the pain as best as he could and in a minute, a coke bottle filled with water appeared in his hands. He fumbled and almost dropped it, then he leaned forward, sliding his hands up a little to tilt it to his lips. It wasn't cold and tasted terrible, but he didn't throw up again. After a few minutes, his stomach settled slightly, and with the easing of that pain, Max became aware of other discomforts including a blinding headache and a full bladder. He set the bottle down. "How about if I give you my word I won't try anything and you let me go to the bathroom?"

He didn't think this character was going to buy it, but he did, and as soon as Max was on his feet, he realized why. He was too dizzy to do more than concentrate on putting one foot in front of another. The bathroom boasted no windows, only a stool and a sink. There was the remains of a shower stall, but the curtain had vanished and the showerhead was only partially attached, pointing sideways at the wall. Roaches scurried into the corners. Max shuddered and ignored them determinedly.

Once he had relieved himself he felt a little better and when he discovered the sink worked, he rinsed off his face and hands, and finally ducked his head under the tap, running cool water over the lump on the back of his head. His stomach still had a tendency to cramp up though and when he bent over, he almost wound up on the floor.

Knowing he wasn't strong enough to take his captor, Max opened the door again, reluctantly, and let himself be led back to the metal beam. Once the handcuffs were replaced, he lifted his head and tried to look around him, but it was hard to tell what this place had been. It looked like a bunker with slit windows near the ceiling and concrete walls, but he couldn't imagine why there should be such a place in southern California. Had some been built during the war when there was the threat of Japanese attack after Pearl Harbor? He didn't know. The breeze that blew in the opening smelled of the sea, so it was possible. Or maybe it was an abandoned movie set. The bathroom looked more recent than World War II.

His captor stayed out of sight, and Max didn't try to force it. If he never got a clear look at the man's face, he might stand a better chance of coming out of this alive. If they kept drugging him, though, he would not stand a chance. He could only hoard his energy and pretend to still feel rotten, and maybe he'd be less threatening. Eventually he might be able to jump the guard.

"What time is it?" Max asked.

"Four o'clock."

"What day?"

"The day after you were taken."

This was working pretty good. "Where am I?"

"Ah, the inevitable question. You are our prisoner, Mr. Keller. You are in prison. Other than that, you have no need to know."

Great. He wasn't going to get anywhere after all. But he wouldn't give up. "Why' d you take me?"

"Leverage."

That made sense. They had him because they wanted the Master. "He won't let you get him," Max insisted.

"I do not want to get him. We have another fate planned for him. You are incidental, only a means to an end. Behave yourself and you will live. It does not matter to me if you live or die, but word has been given."

"Okasa's," Max realized. "What's he up to?"

"Nothing that concerns you. Does the nail care why the hammer drives it?"

Max sipped his water. Maybe if he took it slow he'd get enough to keep him going. He wondered if they would feed him, though right now the thought of food was nauseating. "I don't care about nails and hammers," he said. "Does the good little puppet always dance when Okasa pulls the strings?"

A hand reached out and backhanded him. He sagged back wincing. This one had a hair-trigger temper and it might not be smart to cross him. While he hated Okasa, Max had a sneaky suspicion that Okasa wanted him alive, and if that were so, he could depend on Okasa to keep him that way. But if he got this character too worked up, he might forget his instructions and then nobody could help him. McAllister always said Okasa had a kind of honor. Max was pretty sure this one didn't. He was a punk, and Max knew enough about them. He might follow orders most of the time, but he didn't think before he acted, a condition Max was a little familiar with. He'd done it often enough to recognize it in others. The difference between them was that Max had things to believe in. This guy was amoral. Max knew he had to be very careful. The Master would come for him eventually, and until then, Max had to give him all the help he could, just by staying alive and getting strong.

"I don't like this, Judge," Mark McCormick insisted as they headed toward McAllister's motel in a rented car. "I don't trust the guy and I don't think you should either. He used to kill people. What guarantees do you have that he's stopped?"

"What guarantees did I have that you weren't stealing cars, McCormick? Sometimes I have to trust my judgement. I think I like the guy. Besides, if all he wanted was to kill me, he could have done that as soon as he arrived. He didn't have to warn me. You're pulling the same thing on him that you were afraid Buffy would pull on you."

McCormick winced. "Yeah, thanks, Judge. I'm only worried about you, and now I'm getting in trouble for it."

"You're not in trouble, McCormick, but I need you to expect trouble on this one. Maybe McAllister himself is okay, but this Okasa might know him well enough to guess what he might do and be waiting for us."

"Thanks. You just made my day."

"I know you don't like the idea of killing, McCormick. But even if McAllister used to be a killer, he's stopped now. He wanted to change his ways."

"And you're into rehabilitation," said McCormick with a grin. "Can't resist a good story. You're a pussycat, Hardcase."

"Ah, come on, McCormick, don't get stupid here. Anyway, I did okay with you, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but you steamrollered me. I didn't have a choice," said McCormick without malice. He wondered if the Judge was right. Killing Weed Randall was the worst thing he'd ever had to do; he felt it had somehow diminished him. Now the Judge wanted him to trust somebody who'd done it routinely. McAllister didn't feel like a killer; something very different showed in his eyes along with the concern for his friend. But it was hard to push away the image. Was this what people thought when they found out he'd done time? He was a fine one to complain about it if he pulled the same stunt himself the first chance he got.

He didn't want to think about it, so he said quickly, "You never mentioned Max Keller before, Judge."

"I hardly know him. I know his father better. Patrick Keller's a damn good lawyer. You know those two hundred cases that got off on technicalities Keller was responsible for three of them. He moved out here about the time Max got out of high school. When I met them, Max had worked odd jobs For a couple of years and was getting ready to start UCLA in pre-law. His older brother Jim was in law school at Columbia and didn't come out here until later. I never met him."

"You said there was a plane crash?"

"Yeah, it was a pretty bad deal, McCormick. It was a few years later. Max was just finishing his junior year and Jim had just passed his bar exam. The family was going on a holiday together, but Max had one more final and Patrick had a case that was going to hold him up a few days. I was on the bench for that one. Katherine, his wife, and Jim decided to fly up ahead, but the pilot had been drinking and the plane went down, killing them both. It shook Patrick and Max up pretty bad. Keller still did a good job in court, but at first he only went through the motions. It took a long time for the flair to come back. Max took off after the funeral. Dropped out of school and for a couple of years Patrick didn't even know where he was. Then Max came back with McAllister, who was teaching him martial arts. Patrick was having some kind of trouble; I'm not sure exactly what, but it could have been bad. Max and McAllister helped him out of a tight spot. When McAllister first showed up here, I didn't make the connection until he mentioned Max."

"Sounds like they both had a rough time of it."

"You're right there. Patrick said McAllister helped Max get his head on straight again. So I think we should give him the benefit of the doubt."

It sounded like McAllister had been there for Max Keller in much the same way the Judge had been there for him. McCormick relaxed a little. "Okay, I'll see I cen give him the benefit of the doubt, Judge. But I don't know if I'll ever like him."

"Nobody's asking you to like him, McCormick. Just put up with him."

"You're the boss." But McCormick still wasn't happy. He wouldn't let his guard down until he was sure McAllister was really what he claimed to be.

Okasa telephoned at six. "Good evening, Master. You are waiting. Good."

"How's Max?" "I have just come from him. He is alive. He is not yet well, but he will be. We were regrettably forced to drug him."

"You didn't say anything about drugs." McAllister couldn't help worrying. Max had told him more than once that he didn't like drugs and had never taken them. Maybe he wouldn't have any tolerance for them.

"There will be no aftereffects. Now, we must meet. I wish to convince myself that you are doing what you claim. We meet in half an hour."

"Where?"

Okasa named an intersection. "There is a restaurant there. You will go in and order coffee. I will join you and we will talk. Then you will go directly to the motel. I know how long it will take you and I will telephone you there. If you are not back in time, I will know you have followed me and I will order Keller killed."

"What if I get held up in traffic?"

"That is your problem." Okasa hung up and McAllister looked at his watch, realizing that he would have to hurry to get to the rendezvous in time. He quickly called the pay phone where Hardcastle and McCormick were waiting and gave them directions.

The restaurant Okasa had chosen was a neighborhood coffee shop, and at this hour of the day it was fairly crowded. McAllister selected a booth and sat down, looking about impatiently. He glanced out the window but saw no trace of Hardcastle and McCormick. He hoped they weren't late.

"Master?" Okasa appeared at his side. He slid into the booth opposite and when the waitress appeared, said, "Just coffee."

When the waitress left, Okasa smiled and handed McAllister something. It was a shuriken he had once given Max. "Proof," the ninja said as McAllister closed his hand around the weapon.

"I didn't doubt you had him."

"I cannot prove he is alive now," Okasa said, but he took a small tape recorder from his pocket and plugged in an earphone. He passed it to McAllister. "But this will prove he was alive after we took him."

McAllister inserted the earphone and turned on the recording. "Hey, old fella." It was undoubtedly Max. "I'm pretty much okay. They won't say what they're holding me for but don't take any chances for me, okay?" The tape went silent with a click and McAllister shut it off and returned it. "I didn't think you were lying about having him. Just keep a rein on Takuchi. I don't trust him."

"He is but a tool, Master. Regrettable that I must use him, but he will not kill Keller."

"Unless he gets mad. And we both know what a hot temper he's got."

"Nevertheless, you will leave him to me. Tell me of your day. Is Hardcastle dead?"

"Not yet. Your client will want nothing to lead back to him. I am arranging an accident."

"Very good," said Okasa, though he didn't sound convincing. McAllister realized. Okasa wanted it to look like murder with enough clues For the police to be able to place the blame. "Did you go to Hardcastle's estate?"

"Yes. I spoke to him and McCormick. He doesn't suspect me."

"Good. When will you kill him?"

"Soon. When the time is right." He couldn't stall Okasa indefinitely, and he didn't want to. The sooner Max was out of there the better. Max hadn't sounded his usual self. "Pretty much okay" wasn't the same as "okay" and Max wouldn't worry him with details like that unless it was relatively serious. What Max was trying to say was that he wasn't ready to get away on his own yet and didn't know how much backup he could give the Master in a rescue. That meant McAllister might not be able to get him out alone, even if Okasa wasn't there. "Don't take any chances For me" might have been only concern for the Master, but it might be another message. McAllister wasn't quite sure. Max might have been told he'd be killed at the first sign of rescue. But then McAllister didn't intend to give the enemy any hint that a rescue was in process until it had been completed. He trusted Hardcastle and McCormick to locate the general area where Max was held. They'd promised to let him know where it was instead of taking action on their own. It all came down to how well McCormick could follow Okasa without being seen and if Max could be reached and freed. Okasa would have picked a good base; the man didn't leave his work half done.

"When the time is right?" Okasa echoed. "It must be right before Friday midnight or Keller will die."

"I know your deadline, Okasa. I won't risk Max's life."

"Good." Okasa gave one of his smug smiles. "I will allow you to proceed. But I warn you, Master, if you attempt to free Keller he will be the first one to die--and you will be next. Now I am going. I will telephone you in twenty minutes."

"That's barely enough time to get to the motel."

"Then you must hurry." Okasa turned and walked away without looking back.

"There he is," McCormick pointed toward the restaurant. McAllister had shown them a picture of Okasa and he was perfectly recognizable. He must not have suspected the ninja of following him because he didn't turn. Instead he raked the street with his eyes, probably for signs of police, then got into a brown Ford station wagon.

"Now don't lose him, McCormick."

"I won't." McCormick started the car, allowing a few cars to come between him and Okasa.

At first it was easy; there was enough traffic for him to maintain his position without appearing to tail him. If Okasa realized someone was after him, he didn't show it. He wasn't hurrying. McCormick hoped he was going back to where Keller was being held rather than out on a night on the town. After twenty minutes, Okasa pulled over to a pay phone and remembering that Okasa might be checking on the Master, Mark passed him without glancing in his direction and pulled into a nearby McDonald's. Keeping an eye on the phone booth, he got out of the car and went into McDonald's and brought out two Cokes. When he emerged, Okasa was pulling into traffic again and McCormick followed him. When Okasa hit the freeway it was a little easier. Rush hour was over and they could move without a lot of trouble. But Okasa took an exit that didn't lead much of anywhere, and McCormick slowed when he followed him. Here was where it would get hard. He stopped at the sign and waited, then eased out, keeping a long way back. Eventually Okasa turned off the highway onto a gravel road that wouldn't lead anywhere but to the open, and McCormick pulled up in the shadow of some trees. "Now what?"

"We're close to the ocean," Hardcastle pointed out. "But once he goes over that hill, he could go for miles in either direction."

"Then I'll go on foot," McCormick decided. "You better stay here, Judge, in case it's a trap."

"I'm not gonna stay here, McCormick," the Judge insisted, his mind set, as he got out of the car. McCormick threw his hands in resignation, und headed for a gully that led in the right direction. Keeping low, he crept forward, picking up a sturdy stick to use as a weapon, though he was pretty sure that it would be no defense if a ninja attacked him. Hardcastle got his gun out.

The terrain was rough. Loose rocks and a twisty little stream made it hard to move without watching the ground, and McCormick tripped and almost fell a couple of times because he was watching the top of the rise rather than the ground below him.

"Pick your feet up, McCormick," Hardcastle told him as he shot out an arm and broke McCormick's fall.

But McCormick had reached the crest of the hill and didn't reply as he peered over the top. Then he muttered a curse under his breath. "Keep down, Judge."

Hardcastle eased into position beside him and looked down at a bare hillside with no cover. On the edge of the cliff was a structure that resembled a bunker, with high narrow windows and a doorway set into the side of the hill. The windows were too narrow for a person any bigger than a five year old to fit through, and the door looked like it was solid metal. Okasa was vanishing inside and both Mark and the Judge could hear the heavy clang as the door banged shut.

"What the hell kind of place is that?" McCormick demanded. "Something left over from the war?"

"They had gun emplacements and lookouts, but I don't know if they had anything like that," the Judge replied. "I don't know what it is. Maybe it's a movie set. Maybe somebody built their own private bunker."

"That's just great!" McCormick made a face. "Look at it. I bet the cliff on the other side is too steep to climb. Even if we could get down there in the dark, we couldn't get in."

"There's no cover anyway. All they'd have to do to keep us out is put out a floodlight." He turned as McCormick wiggled back out of sight. "Where're you going? You're not going down there."

"No. I want to see what the cliff's like and how high it is."

"It's high. You're no mountaineer, McCormick. They don't have mountains like that in New Jersey."

"I didn't say I could climb it," McCormick shot back without stopping. "Maybe there's somebody on the force who's good at rock climbing or maybe McAllister could do it. Ninjas are supposed to be good at stuff like that. If we can't get in there, maybe he can."

"You trust him all of a sudden?" The Judge asked as they returned to the car.

"No, but it doesn't look like this was a set-up. I just wish I could get a look inside."

"Well, you're not gonna try. It's too risky, McCormick."

"It'll be dark in an hour." The sun was sinking into the sea behind the bunker. "Maybe when it's dark I could sneak down there and take a look."

"We don't have an hour. We have to get back to McAllister, and I want to call headquarters."

"Then let's find a phone and come back here after we call in."

"Whet makes you so gung ho, McCormick? Usually I have to drag you into stuff like this kicking and screaming. The last I heard you thought McAllister was setting me up and now you want to break into a place that would take a battalion to dent."

"It's a challenge, okay?" McCormick wasn't sure why he wanted to try to get into the bunker, but the people in there wanted to kill the Judge. He tended to take that kind of threat personally. Nobody better mess with Hardcastle or they'd have Mark McCormick to deal with. And it wasn't fair that some kid who didn't have anything to do with Hardcastle except for a chance meeting was being used as hostage. Max was even younger than he was. But mostly it was the thought that if the hostage situation could be defused, Hardcastle would be safe. They could find out who had hired Okasa and have him arrested. McCormick just didn't want this to go on any longer than it had to. The longer it lasted, the more things could go wrong.

"Well, it's one challenge that'll have to wait," Hardcastle said. "I don't like the idea of Max being stuck in there, either, but I want to know who's got it in for me too. But we can't leave the car here for them to find. One of them might leave again. Even if they didn't know somebody followed Okasa, they'd know for sure if they found the car."

"Right. But we've gotta see the cliff-side."

"We can take a boat out in the morning."

"A boat? What do you know about boats?"

"More than you do, kiddo. Now let's get out of here."

An hour later they were at McAllister's motel room with a map of Southern California spread out on the bed and the three of them bent over it. There were a lot of plans to be made.

"The boat's a good idea," agreed McAllister, tracing a finger along the coastline and stabbing it down on the spot Hardcastle had pointed out to him. "But it'll have to be quick. They'll have binoculars and if Okasa sees somebody loitering around, he'll know it's a set-up. I'll have to stay out of sight, but I want to see that cliff face. It might be the only way in. If I can get close enough, I can throw a smoke bomb and stun them long enough to get to Max.

"When?" Hardcastle asked.

"Tomorrow night. I don't want to leave him there any longer than I have to. Besides I can tell Okasa tomorrow that I mean to kill you then and he might not be expecting me."

"How well does he know you?" McCormick asked from the chair on the other side of the bed, where he'd been nursing a can of Pepsi in silence.

"Pretty well," McAllister admitted. "But it's been over a year since I've spent any time with him. He's changed. He'd expect me to have changed as well. Besides he always thought my attitude toward the ninja was wrong. If I seem to be going his way, he might not question it."

"But he'll expect you to try to free Max, won't he?" Mark took another swig of his soda. "That's why he stopped and phoned you so he could make sure you weren't following him. He knew you wouldn't go to the cops and he probably checked and found out Max's dad was out of town. He wouldn't expect you to have allies."

"That's right," the Judge realized. "He'd never expect you to recruit us. If you had to do it on your own, he'd have enough safeguards to keep you from coming after him. Even if he believed you'd risk getting Max out of there, he wouldn't be very worried."

"He might come back and watch you though," McCormick realized. "I don't think we should stick around."

"I have to wait here in case he calls," McAllister reminded him, folding up the map. "But you and the Judge should go back to Gulls Way. How much help do you think the police will be? They won't give it away to Okasa?"

"No, we're only trying to get a line on who might have a contract out on me," the Judge told him. "I haven't told them anything else yet."

"Fine. Okasa might have seen you today, but won't do anything about it yet. He promised me until Friday and unless we attack the bunker and don't make it, he won't kill Max. He knows he only has leverage while Max is alive."

"Well, we'll see you tomorrow," the Judge announced as he got to his feet. "I'll call and we'll set up a meeting. Come on, kid," he said to McCormick, "let's get out of here."

When they had gone, McAllister opened his case and looked through his supplies. He would need a sturdy rope and climbing claws to get up the cliff face. Smoke bombs to stun Okasa and Takuchi while they broke in. They? He knew he had to have some backup this time. He could make it up the cliff but it might take more than one person to assure that Max wouldn't be killed or injured in the rescue. He didn't want to use the Judge; he had a responsibility to keep Hardcastle alive and exposing him to assassins wasn't the best way to do it. But he couldn't trust the police to keep a low profile and do things his way.

At least McCormick seemed less suspicious after Following Okasa. He didn't need mistrust at this stage. He needed teamwork.

The telephone rang half an hour later. "Master?" It was Okasa. "How are your plans progressing?"

"Better. I'll do it tomorrow night." He added bitterly, "I know what you plan to do, Okasa. You'll make an anonymous phone call turning me in. You won't let me get away with it." A little misdirection never hurt.

"You know me well, Master," Okasa agreed. "You will not survive this. Keller will live if you cooperate but you will not. If the police do not take you, I will. Your time is running out."

"How is Max?"

"He lives."

That was not exactly reassuring, but it was all he was going to get. Okasa continued, "If it is not tomorrow night, I will accompany you to make sure you act. Tomorrow night will be your last chance."

"That's only Wednesday night. You gave me till Friday at midnight."

"True. But let us say I do not trust you not to stall as long as possible. I warn you, you cannot get to Keller."

"I don't want to risk Max's life."

"That is the only reason I trust you."

Max Keller woke on the second morning of his captivity and winced as he tried to shift position. He was stiff and his head hurt a little, but he felt better than he had yesterday. Okasa had come back the previous afternoon and had Max make a tape recording for the Master. He hadn't wanted to do it, but at least it would reassure his mentor that he was still alive. He wasn't sure how long he would stay that way, but the longer he remained a prisoner the less hope he had for coming through this alive.

It made the argument he'd had with the Master about settling down and doing something with his life seem silly. He had been doing something with his life, maybe not well enough to protect himself against Okasa but well enough to count for something. Right now he'd give anything to be traveling with McAllister again, helping people out when they came upon someone in trouble. He still had a lot to learn from McAllister and it was stupid to think of quitting just because Jerry Donovan was married. Max wasn't ready to get married end even if he was, he hadn't met anyone yet he wanted to marry. He should know better than to copy somebody else. McAllister had taught him better than that.

If McAllister got him out of here or if he found a way to get himself free, he would put all those crazy ideas behind him. If McAllister found Teri and decided to stick to one place, Max would give it a try too. Maybe the Master could open a dojo someplace and Max could help him out. He suspected the Master had been reluctant to teach him at first because of the way Okasa and the others had turned out. Now that the Master had trained him, he might be willing to start a school again. It wasn't that Max had that high an opinion of himself as a ninja or even as a ninja pupil, but at least he had responded to the training the way McAllister had hoped he would. If McAllister could do it with Max, he could do it with others, and though it would be difficult to share his teacher, he thought it would be good for McAllister to take on other pupils. He was a wonderful teacher.

Max heaved a sigh and took a drink from his Coke bottle. It was filled periodically and now that the drug had finally worn off, he could keep down the water and semi-stale sandwiches that were offered to him. It was about as exciting as eating cardboard and sawdust, but he knew he had to eat.

The other ninja or Okasa took him to the bathroom periodically, and so far, there had been no chance to jump his captors. He'd got a good look at the place and the door was the only way out. It was big and metal and heavy, and it was padlocked shut. The other ninja, whose face Max had still not seen, kept the key in his pocket with the key to Max's handcuffs, and he stayed here all the time. Okasa came and went, and he let Max see him, since Max already knew him on sight, but he didn't talk to him. The previous evening they had taken turns keeping watch, though from the little he had heard of their plans it seemed like it would have been impossible for the Master to find them.

"You are awake," Okasa observed.

"Yeah, no thanks to you guys. You're gonna kill me anyway when this is all over, so why bother?"

"I have given my word that you will not die if he does as I wish."

"Oh yeah. What do you want him to do?"

"It is better that you do not know."

"Why not? Afraid I'll stop you?"

"No. If you knew what we planned, I could not guarantee to keep you alive, and I have given my word."

"You gave him your word?" That didn't make sense. Why should Okasa do that, unless he wanted the Master to do something he wouldn't do otherwise? Kill somebody maybe? Commit a crime using his ninja skills? McAllister would hate that. But he just might do it if Max's life was at stake. He'd obviously let Okasa think he would. Max knew what jt would do to the Master to be forced to return to the old ways. He couldn't let that happen. Somehow he had to escape, but it wouldn't be easy. He was still a little unsteady on his feet, and from the way he'd felt most of yesterday he suspected he had a slight concussion. Even now he still felt a little lightheaded. He wasn't up to taking on a ninja, at least not yet. But he might have to.

Okasa left at mid-morning, and the other ninja continued to ignore Max. He listened to a small portable radio for a while and surveyed the terrain and the ocean with binoculars.

It was going to be a very long day.

"You can't climb that," Hardcastle objected, staring up at the cliff face looming overhead.

McAllister lowered the binoculars and turned to the Judge. "It doesn't look easy, " he agreed. "But I've climbed worse."

"In the dark?" McCormick asked, peering over McAllister's shoulder at the cliff above him. Though it wasn't terribly high, it was steep and rocky, and anyone who fell from it would not be healthy after he landed--if he were even alive. From their position of concealment inside the boat, they didn't have the best view, and no doubt the owner of the boat thought them strange for shunning the open deck. "You're not really going up there?" McCormick shook his head in disbelief. McAllister would be taking a hell of a lot of risk.

"I have to," McAllister said simply. "I can't let Max down."

"Then we're in too," the Judge announced. "My life's at stake here. I'm not going to sit back at the house doing nothing."

"You can't go up that cliff, Judge," McCormick objected, appalled at the very idea. "I know I can't."

"No, you and I will go in the other way, overland. It'll be dark and they won't see us."

"The moon'll be full." McCormick looked up at the cliff again. "I'm not trying to be a party pooper, Judge, but I don't like it."

"You still don't trust me," McAllister suggested, setting aside the binoculars and turning to face the younger man.

McCormick met his eyes and held them. "I didn't trust you at first, and I'm still not sure I do, but I don't think you mean the Judge any harm, and that's what had me worried at first." He fell silent, thinking. "What's Max like?"

"He's a lot like you," McAllister informed him. "He's quick with the smart comments sometimes, and he's hot-headed. He's got a penchant for fighting and he gets in trouble quicker than anybody I've ever known. But he's loyal and he cares about people. When he sees somebody in trouble, his first instinct is to help." He shook his head, not in denial of his words but to try to deny the current situation. "I never had a son," he said finally. "Max is as close as I'm going to come. He's my friend." He smiled. "I think you'd like him."

What McCormick thought but didn't say was, 'I think I like you.' In spite of his doubts of McAllister, Mark realized he couldn't hold the ninja's past against him. He sensed an inner strength in this man, like Judge Hardcastle's but manifested differently. He obviously didn't blame McCormick for doubting him, and he hadn't tried to persuade him otherwise but let Mark come to his own conclusions. And Mark knew without being told that McAllister would never hold his past against him.

McCormick looked at the Judge and grinned. "Okay, Hardcase, you win," he admitted. "I'm finally in."

"Now yer cookin'. I knew you'd see it my way."

"You always make sure I do," McCormick retorted without malice.

"Somebody's got to teach you sense."

"You?!" McCormick retorted. "Teach somebody sense? Give me a break." But he glanced sideways at McAllister and surprised a wistful look in his eyes as he was reminded of Max by the easy camaraderie between the two of them. They had to get the kid back. They had to stop this.

"Shut up, McCormick," the Judge replied. "Okay, we better head back and make plans. This won't be easy." He sounded excited about it and McCormick grinned fondly when he knew the Judge wasn't looking. Trust Hardcastle to get a charge out of a midnight raid. The man had to be crazy!

It was late afternoon and Okasa wasn't back yet. Max still had a headache and he complained to the invisible ninja about getting an aspirin for the pain. Eventually a bottle of St. Joseph's aspirin was tossed down at his feet. Max swallowed a couple of them with the warm water from the Coke bottle. "How about a trip to the bathroom?" he asked. "If you make me wait for Okasa, I'm gonna burst."

"No tricks," the ninja threatened.

"No tricks," Max agreed, lying for all he was worth.

The cuffs were unlocked and re-fastened again. Damn. They hadn't pulled that before. Oh well, Max would have to do the best he could. He climbed to his feet with a realistic stagger, catching at the metal pole For balance. "I think you've done permanent damage," he grated out. "I should sue."

"You'll live. You are like a baby, always complaining. Your master should have taught you to endure pain."

"Yeah, but he didn't reach me to endure slimeballs."

The ninja didn't understand the word, but he must have got the gist of it because he cuffed Max roughly on the side of the head, and Max staggered for real, riding it the best he could. He pushed himself away from the pole and headed for the roach-infested bathroom, pulling the door shut behind him. The water from the tap was cooler than what he'd been drinking, so he drank long and deep from it, then again sloshed some over his head and the still-tender lump. Then he gasped and pitched over to the floor, moaning.

The door opened and the ninja peered in suspiciously. Max doubled up. "I'm gonna die," he choked out. "My head's falling off. You've gotta help me. I can't... see straight." He shivered and twitched a few times for effect.

The ninja grabbed him by the collar and stood him on his feet. "Back to your place," he said impatiently. Max sagged again the minute the hand released him, and when the ninja grabbed at him involuntarily, Max swung both hands, cuffs uppermost, and caught him a fierce blow to the jaw. The ninja dropped. Max didn't hesitate to hit him again, chopping against his neck with the sides of both hands. The violent movement made his head swim but he ignored it as he fumbled in the ninja's pockets for the keys. Without bothering to undo his cuffs, he charged over to the door and thrust the key into the padlock. It gave easily and he dragged the heavy door open. Then he was out and running.

His cuffed hands put him off balance and he halted long enough to free one hand, then he headed away from the bunker, sideways away from the gravel road where Okasa would return. His head throbbed each time his feet hit the ground and the sunlight dazzled him, but he drew a deep breath and tried to regulate his breathing, pacing himself. When he needed to run the four minute mile, he'd be ready, the Master had told him. His body knew how to react if he would let it. He'd been working on those techniques during his captivity, but while they could largely control a headache, they couldn't cure a concussion, and his speed was down.

Instinct, a sixth sense, warned him of danger the instant before it struck, and he lunged sideways, but not quite in time. Something hit him in the arm just above the elbow, stinging sharply. He felt the shuriken and only later did he feel the pain. Blood began to trickle down his arm, but he drove himself on toward the crest of the hill, out of range. He began to weave from side to side, to make a harder target, but the pain in his arm and head were slowing him. Max staggered.

Night. Full darkness came slowly. Later there would be a moon, but for now there was only starlight. This close to greater Los Angeles, there was a hazy glow in the sky but a few brave stars already showed and there would be more as darkness deepened. McAllister stood at the bottom of the cliff and checked his watch. He had half an hour to reach the top. Mark and the Judge were up there already, moving in from the side away from the main road. He hadn't dared to be seen with them after their morning boat ride. His former pupil had telephoned around three-thirty to ask after his plan. McAllister had told him he'd approach Gulls Way around midnight and break in. A fire, he thought. Okasa agreed. Maybe he was secure in the knowledge that an arson investigation would be sure to find proof; maybe he planned to plant some at the scene. He confessed that Max might have suffered a slight concussion but that he was improving and should suffer no ill effects. "Provided you do as agreed," Okasa had finished.

McAllister checked his smoke bombs. If they didn't work, it would hamper Max's chances of survival. Even seconds would be enough for Okasa and Takuchi to kill him. But McAllister would be there to prevent that. His other weapons were all intact, and in the seconds it took the gas to operate, he would use any of them necessary to keep Max alive.

He began to climb. The cliff face was worn and brittle and loose pieces gave way under his hands. The climbing claws gave him added support and he went up slowly, hoping the sounds of the ocean would cover the sounds of falling rocks. He couldn't risk a light so had to do it mainly by feel. The bunker would be invisible to him until he came over the top, so he would need to be alert for sounds on the cliff top, for a waiting presence. Silence was essential and he was glad that the higher he got the more stable the rockface felt. Maybe high tide battered the lower wall. It let him add speed to his climb and he worked his way higher as fast as he could. The more time he had to reconnoiter before the deadline, the better his chances would be. What worried him was the possibility that Okasa could sense his presence. McAllister had learned to sense things that weren't there, things hidden from the casual observer, emotions deeply buried, and it was a talent he'd tried to impart to his pupils. Know when the enemy is present before you see or hear him. If Okasa had done as well with that lesson as he had with others, he might realize his former Master was nearby. Okasa was good, but McAllister didn't know if he was that good. In actual combat he could define the parameters of Okasa's skill to a fine degree, but something like this was harder to pin down. Okasa found him time and time again, but in his search for his daughter, McAllister was often unable to cover his trail. He hoped this would be different.

"You ready, McCormick?"

The younger man glanced at his watch. "You got it, Hardcase. Don't forget the walkie talkie. "

"Give me a break, kid." Hardcastle held it up for inspection then replaced it in his pocket. "We can have backup in minutes if we have to. Now get moving. We don't have that much time."

McCormick led the way up the hillside. Since it was dark, they ignored the ravine and its rough going and went straight up the hill, keeping low to the ground. It would have been impossible in daylight or full moonlight, but under the stars there was too little light for them to be easily spotted and enough light to avoid major obstacles.

Minor obstacles were another matter.

They were two thirds of the way up the hill when Hardcastle choked off a curse and dropped awkwardly to the ground.

"Judge?" McCormick's voice was a worried whisper that wouldn't have carried three yards. "You okay?"

Hardcastle looked up, clutching his ankle. "Does it look like I'm okay?" he shot back. "I messed up my ankle. I think it's sprained."

"Let me see." McCormick dropped down beside him and reached for the Judge's foot. Hardcastle batted McCormick's hands away.

"Never mind that now, McCormick. It's not bad. Let's go on." But when he tried to put any weight on it, he collapsed again and pain forced a moan from his throat. "Looks like I screwed up our plans, McCormick," he said. "I don't think I can walk on it."

"Let's get your shoe off." McCormick pushed away the Judge's protesting hands and eased the shoe off, hearing the Judge's breath catch as he did. Fingers probed the ankle and he looked up. "You're right," he said. "It's already swelling. You're down for the moment, Hardcase."

"You don't have to rub it in, McCormick. Anyway, I can't be. We've got to help McAllister. So tear up something and bandage it."

"Tear up what? We didn't bring a first aid kit here, Judge."

"Your shirt."

"I'm not tearing up my shirt. It's your ankle. Tear up your own shirt. That old thing's only fit for the trash."

"This happens to be my favorite shirt."

"Then I'll let you tear it up. We're running out of time here, Judge. We've got five minutes to get up the hill, and I don't think you'll be much use in a fight against a couple of ninjas no matter how many shirts I tear up. Give me the walkie talkie and I'll go."

"Not alone," Hardcastle began, then broke off. "Hell," he muttered. Reluctantly he produced the walkie talkie and McCormick stuck it into his pocket. He started to rise, but Hardcastle grabbed his arm. "Wait a minute, McCormick. You need this."

McCormick looked at the gun the Judge was offering him and took a step backward. "No way! I'm not gonna kill anybody else, Judge."

"You might need it." Hardcastle looked at him seriously. "I know how you felt when you had to kill Weed Randall, Mark. I don't want you to have to go through that again any more than you do. But sometimes you have to take responsibility even when you don't want to. I hope you don't have to shoot anybody, but you might need it if only to cover them, and I don't think McAllister has a gun."

McCormick hesitated a minute longer, then, reluctantly, he reached out and took it. "I'm sorry, kid," the Judge told him. "But sometimes there's just no other choice."

"I know." Mark grinned faintly in the starlight. "You could get in trouble for this, Hardcase, giving a gun to a guy on parole--"

"Will you get out of here? I'll fix up my ankle and get there as soon as I can." Hardcastle gave him a little shove. "Take it easy."

"Oh, sure." McCormick heaved a sigh and set off up the hill at a loping run, keeping his head down.

"Sorry, Mark, " Hardcastle said to the night. "I'll get there as fast as I can." He pulled off his "favorite" shirt and began to tear strips off it to strap up his ankle.

McCormick looked over his shoulder at the Judge and then went on. He didn't like the whole thing, and he knew he was overreacting to the gun, but it was the same one he'd used to kill Weed Randall and that bothered him a lot. Besides, he didn't like leaving the Judge alone and hurt. But with any luck, it would all be over before Hardcastle arrived.

McCormick reached the top of the hill and dropped onto his stomach to peer down at the bunker. He could just make out a dim light marking the windows, and a dark shadow in front of the bunker must be Okasa's brown station wagon. Both of them were there. McCormick glanced at his watch. He had three minutes. Silently he let himself over the top of the hill and began to work his way down to the bunker.

The Master reached the cliff top and pulled himself onto level ground, stopping long enough to remove the climbing claws and stow them in his pouch. The bunker was still on slightly higher ground than he was and he could hear voices taking in Japanese. He was near enough to distinguish actual words. Okasa sounded angry. Takuchi responded, both angry and defensive--so things weren't going well between Okasa and his disciple.

Good. That might be put to advantage. McAllister checked the time. He'd cut it fine. Somewhere in the dark, Hardcastle and McCormick should be working their way closer. He had to act first.

Pulling out three smoke bombs, he weighed them in his hand then eased up to the nearest window. It was too small to fit through, so he'd have to immobilize Okasa and Takuchi long enough to get to the door and force it open before they came around.

He could see them sitting at a short table over the remains of a carry-out meal. Neither was looking in his direction; both of them were at an angle to him, but if Okasa looked up, he would see him. There was no trace of Max, but there was a doorway in the corner that might lead to a storage room. That was where he'd be. It was better that Max was not in easy reach of the two ninjas. So far it was the first break they'd had. McAllister smiled and threw the smoke bombs.

Okasa jumped. to his feet, holding his breath, but Takuchi got a whiff of it and went down. McAllister watched Okasa dive for a weapon and threw another smoke bomb. Eventually the ninja would have to take a breath, though he could hold out longer than the average man. McAllister followed up the smoke bomb with a weighted chain which Okasa jumped to avoid, but his movements were sluggish as if the gas had begun to affect him. Good. Another smoke bomb burst into the room and Okasa staggered and sagged. He threw a shuriken at McAllister, but the Master ducked and avoided it easily. When he lifted his head, Okasa was sprawled across the table. His posture wasn't quite as relaxed as McAllister would have liked; he suspected that his former pupil was bluffing.

The smoke was thinning now. Takuchi was out of it; the utter limpness of his posture couldn't be faked, at least not by someone like Takuchi. But Okasa's muscles were taut, braced. McAllister could see him risk a cautious breath and he threw another smoke bomb, just as McCormick arrived in a rush at his side.

"Cover him," the Master said, as he noticed the gun in McCormick's hand. He raised his voice. "Okasa, we've got a gun on you. Don't try anything."

Okasa didn't react.

"I'll get the door," the Master said. "Where's the Judge?"

"Coming. He hurt his ankle." No time for questions. McAllister slipped around the corner of the bunker and set up the explosive on the door. He'd seen the padlock, so he didn't concentrate on the locking mechanism but on the hinges, then he jumped back. The explosion went off with a sizzle and a pop, and he burst around the corner and kicked open the door with a yell. It fell heavily, still held at the padlock, but allowing access.

Careful to avoid McCormick's line of fire, he approached Takuchi first. Okasa's pupil didn't react when McAllister pulled his hands behind his back and bound them with a chain. Quickly he removed Takuchi's weapons and tossed them out of reach. Even a ninja would be hard pressed to free himself instantly without tools. Then the Master turned to Okasa.

"I know you're awake. My friend has a gun on you, so I wouldn't try anything if I were you."

"Drop it!" McCormick's voice shook, and McAllister wondered if he'd been hit, but there was no time to check as Okasa went for his sword. McAllister ducked and got in a solid kick, but Okasa kicked too and they began to circle warily, and it was all McAllister could do to avoid crossing McCormick's line of fire. He was forced to retreat toward Takuchi, who was stirring and struggling with his bonds. McAllister couldn't go that way either, but Okasa had blocked off his other options, swinging his sword. McAllister drew his staff from his belt and blocked Okasa's first blow. He wondered if McCormick would shoot. If Max weren't at risk, he wouldn't even consider it, but with Max's life at stake, he didn't feel the need to prove himself to Okasa. But McCormick didn't fire. "McCormick? Are you still there?"

He tripped then and went down, and Okasa raised the sword over his head. "McCormick!"

The shot was deadening in the confined space, and Okasa let out a yelp as the sword flew from his finger. He glanced over at the window and raised a bloodied hand. "I concede."

"That's a good idea," the Master agreed. "The next will be fatal. I'm going to tie you up." He looked around and discovered a pair of handcuffs on the table. Dragging Okasa over to the metal post that supported the ceiling, he cuffed the ninja to it, then proceeded to disarm him. Okasa's hand was bleeding, but it didn't look serious, more like Mark's bullet had hit the sword and knocked it free, gashing Okasa's hand. McAllister tried a cloth around it and backed away.

"Come in, Mark," he called, then turned back to Okasa. "Where's Max?" And, raising his voice, "Max, where are you?"

"He is not here." Okasa averted his face.

"Where is he?"

"He is dead," Takuchi retorted triumphantly. "I killed him."

McAllister felt like he'd just taken a shuriken in the gut. "You gave me your word," he accused Okasa, knowing it was too late for that to matter.

"I am dishonored, " Okasa agreed. "I had no part in this, but he is my pupil and my ally, and I must take responsibility. Keller tried to escape late this afternoon when I was not here. Takuchi pursued him and threw a shuriken to try to stop him. Keller went over the cliff."

"Do not apologize for your enemy's death," Takuchi spat, bracing himself up on one elbow. "You make me think you are as cowardly and dishonorable as your opponent. He renounced the old ways. Must you do the same?"

"I had no quarrel with Max Keller," Okasa snapped back. "I was bound in honor to keep him alive. If we are to speak of betrayals, then you are the betrayer. I renounce you."

"I don't care about your quarrels," McAllister grated out. "Tell me about Max." He felt suddenly old. It had all been for nothing. McCormick entered the bunker and came up behind him. "Are you sure he's dead?"

"I could not find his body," Takuchi admitted. "But you came up the cliff yourself, Master. You know how steep it is and how high. Do you think he could survive?"

McAllister didn't. Even if Max had been uninjured, the fall could have killed him, and, wounded, the odds were even greater against survival. He had thought he'd faced the possibility of losing Max when this was all over; he'd come to terms with the thought that he might leave, but not like this. He wasn't ready for this.

Closing his eyes against the sting of tears he refused to shed in front of his enemy, McAllister blundered past McCormick to the entrance of the bunker. Max had had so much to live for, so much to give. Now he was gone. He probably hadn't even known why he had been killed. McAllister caught his breath sharply. He felt empty, drained of everything. Even finding Teri seemed to lose its meaning.

A hand touched his shoulder. "I'm sorry," said McCormick softly. "Look, we'll get the coast guard to look for him. We don't know for sure that he's dead."

"You better call the police, Mark," McAllister said in a dead level voice. Interesting how much effort it took to keep it steady. "Handcuffs won't hold Okasa indefinitely." He turned to Okasa, eyes blazing. "Your word is worthless, Okasa. I'll see that the right people know that. Even if you get out of this, you'll have nowhere to go."

Okasa didn't refute it. He dropped his eyes and wouldn't look at the Master.

McCormick passed the gun to McAllister and pulled out the walkie talkie, summoning backup. McAllister pointed the weapon at Okasa, who cringed as if he expected execution. McAllister eyed him in disgust.

A scuffling sound outside made him stiffen. Max? Maybe he'd dragged himself back up the cliff. He turned, sternly suppressing hope.

"Did we get them?" Hardcastle demanded, poking his head in. "You okay, McCormick? Where's Max?"

McAllister handed him the gun, then pushed past him out into the night. "Hey, wait!" Hardcastle cried, but McCormick's voice came clearly. "Let him go, Judge, " he said quietly. "Just let him go."

It was late when the Master returned to Max's van. Okasa and Takuchi had been taken away by the police and McAllister had gone to collect his tools, then, unable to give up completely, he had gone searching for Max. He'd seen the Judge and Mark with flashlights on the top of the cliff, looking too. But they didn't find him, and when McAllister reached the van, Hardcastle and McCormick were waiting for him. He unlocked the door without speaking. When he got in, the first thing he saw was Max's hamster, Henry, running in his wheel, and somehow that was almost too much to bear. "I'm sorry, Henry," he said under his breath, taking the hamster from the cage and holding it against his chest, one hand stroking the little animal.

"I think we all need some sleep," Hardcastle said in a falsely hearty voice. "Why don't you stay at Gulls Way for the rest of the night, John."

McAllister shook his head. "If Max is alive, he'll go back to the motel."

"Then we'll leave a message at the desk," Hardcastle insisted. "He doesn't have his key--" it had been found in Okasa's pocket--"so he'll have to stop there anyway. I think you'll be better off at Gulls Way."

McCormick looked at McAllister's miserable expression and found that he could relate to him very well. He knew what it was like to believe his best friend was dead. It had happened to him last year when he and Hardcastle had gone to the Judge's high school reunion back in Clarence, Arkansas. For almost a day he'd believed that the Judge was dead and it was an experience he never wanted to repeat. McAllister looked the way Mark had felt then, and McCormick decided to take charge. He went around to the driver's side of the van. "Move over. I'm driving."

McAllister looked startled, but he conceded instantly, a sign of how bad he was feeling. Sliding over, he returned Henry to his cage. "All right," he said in a defeated voice. "I'll go. But we'll have to leave a message. "

"We'll go there now." McCormick saw the Judge looking at him and wondered if Hardcastle knew he was remembering the experience in Clarence and Flip Johnson's death. He knew that it would be better for McAllister not to be alone. In the morning, he might want to talk about Max, and McCormick and the Judge would be there to listen. It was going to be rough, but he didn't hesitate to volunteer himself for the job. He couldn't imagine distrusting McAllister now. Maybe it was easier to trust when you found a way to get inside the other person's head and share his pain.

McCormick arrived at the kitchen in time for breakfast and found McAllister sitting there playing with a plateful of scrambled eggs. The Judge wasn't around, but he much have been there because a second plate sat opposite McAllister's and coffee cooled in a second cup. This morning the Judge had refrained from shooting baskets at the crack of dawn, and McCormick had slept later than he meant to. Now he headed for the stove and began to cook his own breakfast, not quite sure what to say. "Where's Hardcastle?" he ventured.

McAllister's eyes came back from the middle distance. "He had a phone call," he explained and went back to pushing his eggs around.

"That's gonna get cold if you don't eat it."

"I'm not hungry." He shoved the plate away.

"I don't blame you," said McCormick. "I know the feeling. A big hole in your stomach, right?"

McAllister focused on McCormick, who found it hard to meet his eyes. "You've been through it?"

"Yeah, in a way, about a year ago. I thought the Judge had been killed and I didn't find out till later that he was alive. It's rotten. It's not fair."

"No, its not fair. " McAllister sighed. "Max was thinking he should do something different with his life. He was talking about settling down and getting a regular job. I know he's stuck with me because he knows how much I want to find my daughter. I never made him stay but maybe I influenced him when I shouldn't have."

"I don't think so." McCormick dished up his eggs and brought them over to the table. "People don't stick around if they don't want to. I mean, he wasn't even like me--at first I only stuck because I was on parole and had no choice, and I was curious. It didn't take me long to know I wanted to stick it out. I've learned a lot from the Judge--but don't tell him I said that. Awhile ago I found my dad for the first time since I was five. You've been looking for your daughter; well, I was looking for my dad. I was disappointed. I guess I hoped he'd be like Hardcastle. He did more for me than my dad or anybody I ever met. I bet it was like that for Max too. Don't you think you were good for him?"

"I did until this happened."

"It wasn't your fault, McAllister. Max wouldn't blame you. I didn't know him, but the Judge thinks he was a good kid, and he must have been or you wouldn't have cared about him."

"He was something else," McAllister agreed. "He used to get into fights a lot and was always getting tossed out of bar windows. Everywhere we'd go, he'd find a new bar to get tossed out of. When he found out I was a ninja, he got really excited and wanted lessons. I think he wanted to find a way to throw the other guy out of the window for a change."

"It'd be tempting," Mark agreed. "He doesn't get tossed out of bars any more though--I mean he didn't?" He winced at his stupid choice of words.

McAllister shock his head. "Not for a long time."

"See, it was good for him. He wouldn't regret knowing you."

McAllister smiled at that. "No, I know he wouldn't."

"And you don't regret knowing him."

"That doesn't make me feel any better now."

"I know. I don't know what to say to help either."

"It's just something to live through. The worst will be telling his father."

"Maybe the Judge could help you."

"It's not the Judge's responsibility. It's mine."

"What's not my responsibility?" Hardcastle asked, as he limped into the room, hanging onto the counter.

"Who was on the phone?" McCormick asked.

"Frank at police headquarters. Okasa confessed the whole thing. Said it was Winters who took out the contract. Winters! I thought he'd gone straight. He's been out for six months and it looked like he'd been clean, but it must have been a cover. Damn! I never would have guessed Winters."

"Mike Winters?" asked McCormick. "I know him. I mean, I was in Quentin with him. He didn't like you, Judge. We used to get together and gripe about you. Only he really meant it."

"You should have said something."

"He's been out a long time. I thought it was just talk. Sorry, Judge."

"Anyway there's a warrant out for him, so that takes care of that." He turned to McAllister. "I'm sorry, John, but the coast guard didn't find anything, and the state police have searched the area. They didn't find a trace of him either."

"Maybe they never will find him," said McAllister sadly. He got up and dumped the contents of his plate in the trash. "I think I'll go outside for a while."

"I feel bad about this," McCormick said when he'd gone.

"So do I, McCormick. I wish we could have stopped it. Maybe we should have gone the first night."

"We didn't know enough the first night. We hadn't seen the cliff or anything."

"I know. But I still feel bad about it." Hardcastle lifted his head and listened. "There's the doorbell. Answer it, McCormick."

"You answer it. I'm eating."

"With this ankle?"

"I can see how it's gonna be," retorted McCormick as he crammed a forkful of eggs into his mouth. "It'll be McCormick, get this, McCormick, do that, for the next month." He headed for the front door. "I'm going," he complained.

He pulled open the door prepared to blast a salesman, but the guy who stood there didn't look like a door-to-door salesman. He looked like the loser on Monday Night Wrestling, a bruise along the side of his face and one arm in a sling. He was younger than Mark, and though he was a stranger, McCormick stared at him with sudden excitement. "I hope you're Max Keller," he said.

"I'm Max. McAllister's here?"

"He is. And he thinks you're dead."

Max's face froze. "He thinks I'm what?"

"Takuchi told Okasa he threw a shuriken at you and you went over the cliff."

"Huh? He did throw a shuriken at me--that's what happened to my arm. But I got away. Why'd he want to say something like that?"

"Maybe he was scared to tell Okasa you got away--I don't think I'd have the nerve to cross Okasa if I could help it. We can work that out later though. Come on, we'll go tell Hardcastle you're okay and then you'd better find McAllister."

"What's Judge Hardcastle got to do with this?" Max asked, following Mark into the house. "My dad knows him."

"Okasa wanted McAllister to kill the Judge; that's why he grabbed you, to get him to do it." He led the way into the kitchen. "Hey, Hardcase, look what the cat dragged in."

"Max!" Hardcastle all but pounced on him, grinning broadly. "It's good to see you, kid. You okay? What happened to your arm? You look like you've been to the wars."

"Something like that, " Max replied. "Where's McAllister? He said the Master thinks I'm dead."

"The Master?" Hardcastle echoed.

"I guess that's what you call a ninja teacher," McCormick guessed. "He went out a little while ago. You better go find him quick."

Max didn't have to be told twice. He vanished out the door in a hurry. McCormick grinned. "Well," he said. "That's over. I've gotta go call Buffy. "

"Buffy?" echoed the Judge in surprise. "I thought you were through with her."

"Did you tell her you'd done some time?"

"Not yet. That's for face to face. Besides, if I tell her I got sent up for stealing my own car--"

"It wasn't your car, McCormick. At least it wasn't in your name. So that means you stole it. Technically anyway."

"The law has no heart. It was mine," McCormick insisted. "But that's not the point, Judge. Maybe Buffy will dump me, but I won't know till I try, right?"

"Now yer cookin'."

McCormick grinned. "I've been thinking about it, Judge. I saw myself doing the same thing to McAllister that I was afraid Buffy would do to me. I guess I overreacted. Maybe she will too, but I'll give her a chance." Mark shrugged. "I came close to messing it up for McAllister back there," he confessed.

"How?"

"He wanted me to cover Okasa. I had the gun pointed right at him, and he jumped McAllister anyway. I couldn't bring myself to shoot him."

"Nobody expected you to shoot him, McCormick, just to keep him from getting McAllister. Looks like you did okay to me. When I got there, Okasa was a prisoner."

"Yeah, but what if I'd held off and Okasa had won?"

"I don't think it would have happened. You did what you had to do. I'd trust you to back me any time."

"Really?" McCormick grinned. Hardcastle didn't come through with that kind of comment very often, but he sure could pick his moments.

"Don't let it go to your head."

"Who me? With you around, how could that happen?" He added, "I guess it was because I thought of him as a killer that I didn't want to like him."

"Now you know better. You must have or you wouldn't have given him the gun when he thought Max was dead. If he's what you'd thought he was, he would have blown Okasa away for revenge."

"But he wasn't." McCormick grinned. "Now if only Buffy gives me that much or a chance."

"If she doesn't, she's crazy," the Judge muttered under his breath.

"What was that, Hardcase? I didn't quite catch it."

"Never mind. If you're gonna call her, call her, then quit wasting time. There's a lot of work to be done here, now you've had a long enough vacation."

"Vacation?!" Mark reacted, incredulously. "You're one of a kind, Hardcastle."

"You got that right," the Judge agreed and poured himself a fresh cup of coffee.

McAllister walked gloomily around the grounds of Gulls Way. He knew Mark was right when he insisted Max's death wasn't his fault, but he couldn't help blaming himself. Max had been used against him and died because of it.

All those plans Max hadn't had time to formulate would never be carried out now. McAllister knew he would have wanted Max to stay with him or that he would have found a way to avoid losing touch with Max even if he settled down. Teri might or might not be found, but roaming around the country wasn't working. Maybe staying in one place would.

But now he'd never have the chance to find out. Max was dead and Okasa was behind bars. The other ninjas might or might not be after him. That didn't matter now. What did was that he wished he could have told Max that if he wanted to settle down he would have stuck around to keep an eye on him.

He pounded his fist against a handy tree trunk.

"Is that fair, taking it out on a poor defenseless tree?"

He froze at the familiar voice he'd thought he'd never hear again. "Max!"

"Hey, old fella." Though Max looked a little worse for wear, he was on his feet and obviously in one piece. But he also looked taken aback at the sight of the Master's face. "Hey, you weren't worried about me?" he asked lightly.

"Worried about you! You'd think I'd know better by now." McAllister grasped Max by the shoulders and shook him lightly, then, giving in to an irresistible impulse, he pulled Max close and hugged him fiercely. Max let him.

"I'm sorry," he soothed as if he'd felt McAllister shaking with relief. "I should have got here sooner, but I didn't know you thought I'd bought it. I got away yesterday afternoon but I was a mess and they kept me overnight at a hospital up the coast. They didn't know who to call. I called the motel last night but you weren't there and when I woke up this morning and called again they said you were here, so I came by. That guy back there said they wanted you to kill Judge Hardcastle. Were they using me to force you to do it?" He backed up a step and McAllister retained his grip on Max's shoulders.

"They were trying."

"So what'd you do? I know you wouldn't have killed him."

"I recruited him and Mark to help me. We broke in last night to pull you out and you jumped the gun."

"I knew they were using me against you, but I didn't know how, so I thought the best thing would be to get out of there and give you a free hand. I didn't mean to screw it up and miss letting you know." He looked shaken and humbled by the Master's concern.

"You're okay, that's what matters, Max." He shook him lightly again then let him go. "If you ever pull something like that again--"

"No way. Hey, old fella, I've got something to tell you--"

At the same time, McAllister spoke. "I want to talk to you--" and they both broke off.

"You first," said Max, grinning.

"No, you go ahead."

Max shrugged. "Okay. You know how I was going on before about settling down and doing something responsible?"

"Yes." The Master was wary.

"Well, it was a lot of crap. The only reason to settle down is if I know what I want to do and that it's more important than what I'm doing now. So that means you're stuck with me. Even when I decide I'm ready--if I want to finish college or something--maybe you could settle down too. Maybe open a dojo here. Have you ever thought of that?"

"I thought of it while you were gone," McAllister admitted. "If I don't find Teri now I don't want to stop looking, though I can look For clues without running all over the country. If I ever started a school here, I'd want your help with it. On the side if you were doing something else like practicing law, but at least enough to keep your hand in." He grinned. "I was afraid I was holding you back from what you wanted to do."

"No, I don't know what I want to do yet. I guess, I've got my priorities straighter now. I think I will finish college soon. I've only got a year left. But let's give finding Teri another try. Have you called O'Bannon yet?"

"I forgot all about it," McAllister confessed.

"You forgot about Teri?!" Max echoed blankly.

"Well, I was a little distracted. Maybe I should call him now."

So they went back to the house. McAllister slung his arm companionably around Max's shoulders, still half-disbelieving his luck at having his friend restored to him. Nothing could dim this day. Even finding out that Teri had gone again would not be as painful as usual.

O'Bannon came to the phone. "I was starting to wonder if you'd call back, McAllister," he said. "Suzie gave me your message and I've been waiting to hear from you."

"Is Teri there?"

"Not now, but she'll be back. She sent a telegram. She and I had a fight, but it wasn't permanent. I'm going to marry her when she gets all this nonsense out of her head."

"What nonsense?"

"Now that you've called, I think it's tied up with you. She doesn't stay in one place long because she's looking for you."

"Maybe she's avoiding me?" But O'Bannon's words made sense. Maybe having missed him in Ellerston, Teri had taken the initiative and was searching too.

"I don't think so," O'Bannon denied quickly. "Anyway, her telegram said she'd be back. She had to check something out first. She never lies so I know she'll come back. The only thing is, I can't guarantee how long it will take. It might be a week or it might be months."

"I think I can wait," McAllister said. "Besides she might call and you call tell her I was here."

"Right. I hope she hurries. You've got a special daughter, McAllister."

The Master smiled. It seemed that nothing could go wrong for him on this day.

When he got off the phone, he found Max, Mark, and the Judge watching him, and he grinned at them all. "I'm finally going to be a father," he announced, then grimaced at how stupid it sounded.

"You're doing great so far," Max told him with a big smile. "Give you a little practice and who knows how good you'll get at it."

"Respect," McAllister mourned cheerfully. "Thanks a lot, Max."

"He doesn't get any respect," Max retorted in a Rodney Dangerfield imitation. "Things are tough all over."

"Believe me, I know the feeling," Hardcastle sympathized with McAllister.

"So now I'm getting picked on too," complained McCormick. Hardcastle reached out and tousled his hair.

"Besides, " Max added with a big grin, "we all love it, right?"

Hardcastle nodded. "Now yer cookin'," he said.