Enzan

John J. Donohue

Description

Chie Miyazaki is wild and spoiled—the pampered child of a cadet line of the Imperial house of Japan. When she disappears in the United States accompanied by a slick Korean boyfriend, it sets off alarms among elite officials in Japan’s security apparatus.

The Japanese want the problem solved quietly, so they seek out Connor Burke, prize student of Sensei Yamashita. Burke suspects that he’s being used, but he accepts the assignment out of honor for his revered sensei.

A covert search and rescue operation turns into a confrontation with a North Korean sleeper cell, and Burke finally discovers the secret that drove Yamashita from Japan so many years ago and the power behind the decades-old connections that pull Yamashita back into danger in the service of the imperial family.

Sujets

• Policier & Thriller
• Thriller
• Hard-Boiled
• Thrillers
• Detective
• Espionage
• Mystery
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: YMAA Publication Center
• Date de parution: 01 juillet 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781594392825
• Langue: English

Extrait

Praise for Enzan: The Far Mountain …

Mul ti-layered and satisfying, a welcome and well-developed addition to an accomplished martial arts series.
— Kirkus Reviews
A Zen master, a princess, and a martial artist burst out of their archetypes to reveal deep and likable characters.
— ForeWord Reviews
North Korean thugs, the Japanese family, an Hispanic gangster, a retired cop, a nymphomaniac girl, and a Zen monastery. Mix all these with a variety of agendas and you have an incredible basis for a “can’t put it down” novel. We rated this novel our max 5-heart rating.
— Heartland Reviews
Read Enzan and you’ll sense sharp swords somewhere in proximity. Read it, and you’re involved in the multi-layered, pulsating life that can only be found in a book about Connor Burke.
— Michael DeMarco, founder of Journal of Asian Martial Arts
What makes this book worth the review, and worth your reading time is ... Donohue’s wise, asides ... regarding martial arts, Japanese culture, and Zen influences. [They] lend Enzan its true promise—namely to render traditional martial arts practice as a way of living relevant to the warp and woof of the modern world. Doing so lifts John Donohue’s work into the mainstream of crime/adventure fiction.
— Arthur Rosenfeld for Huffington Post
A classic Japanese structured myth of a questing warrior... set in our modern thriller struggles. Authentic and exciting!
— James Grady, author of Six Days of the Condor
When it comes to martial arts action and suspense, John Donohue is the grandmaster. I’m a big Connor Burke fan!
—David J. Montgomery, mystery and thriller critic for Mystery Ink
It’s great to see Burke and Yamashita back in another martial arts action adventure. Told by a hard-hitting writer and martial arts expert, John Donohue is at the top of his game.
—Loren Christensen, (ret) police officer, Portland P.D., martial artists, author of Dukkha (series)
Donohue equals Eisler and Van Lustbader as a fiction writer who deftly mixes a crackling plot, martial arts action, and vivid characters, for an unforgettable thrill ride.
—Brian R. Sheridan, martial artist, author of American Life in the 1930’s
In this installment, Donohue skillfully weaves parallel narratives wherein the secrets of the past have powerful consequences for the present, and even the most jaded readers will be caught by surprise by the secrets that are exposed.
— Meron Langsner, award-winning playwright
A meaty story that can be read as a darn good thriller, or as a study in human nature, or as a commentary on the traditions and inner workings of the martial art. Pick it up on Friday night when you don’t have to be at work Saturday morning. If you’re like me, you’ll be up half the night reading—just one more chapter.
— D r. Susan Lynn Peterson, author of Western Herbs for Martial Artists and Contact Athletes
Also by John Donohue
Sensei
Deshi
Tengu
Kage

YMAA Publication Center, Inc.
Main Office
PO Box 480
Wolfeboro, NH 03894
800-669-8892 • www.ymaa.com • [e-mail]



ISBN Paperback: 9781594392818
ISBN Ebook: 9781594392825



© 2014 John Donohue
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

Enzan: The Far Mountain was edited by Leslie Takao, and its cover was designed by Axie Breen. This book has been typeset in Adobe Garamond Pro and printed on 55 LBS FSC-Env100 Ant EDI Creme paper.





Publisher’s Cataloging in Publication

Donohue, John J., 1956-

Enzan : the far mountain / John Donohue. -- Wolfeboro, NH : YMAA Publication Center, Inc., c2014.

p. ; cm.
ISBN: 978-1-59439-281-8 (pbk.) ; 978-1-59439-282-5 (ebook)
“A Connor Burke martial arts thriller”--Cover.
Summary: Chie Miyazaki is wild and spoiled-- the pampered child of a cadet line of the Imperial House of Japan. When she disappears in the US accompanied by a slick Korean boyfriend, the Japanese seek out Connor Burke, student of renowned sensei Yamashita, for a quiet solution. Burke is swept along in a covert search and rescue operation that turns into a deadly confrontation with a North Korean sleeper cell. He experiences the power of his sensei’s decades old connections, and the secret that drove Yamashita from Japan now pulls him back into the service of the Imperial family.--Publisher.

1. Burke, Connor (Fictitious character) 2. Martial artists--Fiction. 3. Missing persons--Investigation--Fiction. 4. Princesses--Japan--Fiction. 5. Royal houses--Japan--Fiction. 6. Espionage, North Korean--Fiction. 7. Martial arts fiction. 8. Suspense fiction. 9. Mystery fiction. I. Title.

PS3604.O565 E59 2014 2014939377
813/.6--dc23 1407



This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
To Aidan James Brough
As you take your first steps in life’s journey
(you can read this later)
Prologue
Life is a path: a thing of direction and purpose. Yamashita taught me that we forge ourselves in the Do , the Way, that we pursue. My relationship with my teacher is deep and complicated and reverent. Yet there are doubts ghosting around in my bones. On good days I hope we were formed for a purpose, but there is also a deep throbbing, a grim Celtic warning that life can be either full or futile. And there is no sense to how that will be revealed; we graft meaning on our lives as best we can.
My teacher has led me on a disciplined quest to find that meaning, although I didn’t know that for a long time. I was focused instead on the surface aspects of his art. We worked together on technique, perception, and reaction time. It was a craft that insisted on minute attention to the vivid present. There was little room for doubts or distractions. And if you’re fully immersed in the here and now, how could you be wondering about anything else? It was a mystery. In fact, Yamashita, my teacher, was a contradiction himself: a master of the moment who lived with memory swirling around him like some bitter fog. Maybe he hoped his blade would ultimately cut through it. Despite all his activity, his mastery, the rock-solid self-confidence he projected in the martial arts training hall called a dojo, I’ve come to learn that in the quiet times even he had doubts.
But I never doubted him. Not really. The secret manuscript his old friend Mori left to us, the tale it told, helped me understand Yamashita better. And appreciate him more fully. He never spoke to me of the life he had lived in his early years. Mori filled in the gaps—an old story that reached me long after the author himself was dead. But the strands it revealed were alive enough; they uncoiled into the present, the skein rolled out, unraveling but still intact. In the end, it ensnared both my teacher and me. Looking back, I’m not sure I would have wanted it any other way. For in some strange sense, our lives had become joined; no longer two strands, but one.
A splicing of two skeins that continue to unwind.
Chapter 1
He arrived at the dojo as the training session was ending. We were all soaked with sweat and the heavy blue quilted tops we wore were pressing on our shoulders like the weight of Judgment Day. The visitor carefully slipped off his shoes, placed them neatly to one side, and bowed. It was a good bow, the kind you see from someone who’s been in a dojo before. He moved like a martial artist too: smooth motion that hinted at years of labor in the precise economy of violent action. He stood at the rear of the room as the training session came to a close. He was still and watchful. Only his brown eyes glittered under the high lights of the training hall.
They’re so self-contained, the Japanese. You think after all these years I’d be used to it. But at that moment, I just wanted to reach across the room and smash his face in. I didn’t, of course. Partly because my teacher Yamashita has trained me better, but mostly because it was what my visitor wanted, and why give him the satisfaction?
I called to the class to line up and they flowed into a long row with the unthinking ease of repeated practice. In the Japanese martial tradition, every training session begins and ends with a ceremony. It’s a reminder of who we are and what we are doing. That sounds like a simple thing, but my experience is that we’re all hardwired for distraction and delusion. The Buddha pointed that out. So, for that matter, did Jesus. I hate to have to admit the nuns who tortured me all those years in Catholic school were right about anything. Yet it’s true, and the need to focus on purpose and identity is a real one. So martial arts students in the dojo line up at the end of every class. They stand in rank order and face their sensei , their teacher.
That’s me.
I knelt in the formal position, carefully setting the white oak training sword down at my left side. I nodded and the students sank down as well.
The dojo captain, the most senior student present, called out “Mokuso!” the barked command to meditate. It’s just one of the more interesting contradictions of the art I practice. It was a command to be like empty vessels, bereft of ambition or aggression, an order to clear the mind and become one with all things. But, of course, every one of us in that room had spent the last two hours achieving, learning the finer points of killing someone with a sword.
There’s a lot written about the martial arts: all these complicated ideas about transcending the self, a dense thicket of words and description. It’s cool and calming, the promise of an experience of measured beauty, like water flowing. Alluring, but not completely accurate. Just so much clutter. Step out with me onto the hard floor of a practice session. No incense here, just the smell of heated bodies; no chanting, simply the grunt of effort and the th