KATANA

From the neon-lit streets of Tokyo to the bustling markets of Singapore. Across the tropical islands of the Philippines and into the shadowed alleys of Dubai and Yemen—three unlikely allies are drawn into a deadly pursuit.

Two former soldiers of fortune and a grounded airline pilot find themselves hunted by ruthless assassins as they race against time to uncover Japan’s priceless national treasure: the Honjo Masamune Sword. Missing since the end of World War Two, this legendary blade—crafted by Nippon’s master swordsmith of the 13th century—is one of the world’s most valuable lost treasures.

Their search also leads them to a globe-trotting mystery surrounding a missing Boeing 747, weaving a deadly web of secrets that stretches across continents.

In a world where trust is scarce and danger lurks at every turn, uncovering the truth could cost them everything.

Inside Cover Burb:

‘’I came out on the short end of the stick.’ ‘’Maybe I can make it up to you Jerry.’ ''How’s that John?’ ‘’Driving down to the border from LA I remember asking you what airplane you flew, and you told me the 747, correct?’ ‘’So?’ Jerry asked warily. ‘’So, we need a consultant who knows the airplane, for example just aft of the nose gear there is a hatch that leads up under the main deck to a cramped space-’ ''The lower 41.’ Jerry interrupted, then more than a little peeved added, ''Listen John, because of you I am, even now as we speak, flat broke and need to get back to work. You are calling me in the middle of the night to ask me questions about fuselage section 41? I am worried about how I'm going to pay for my next meal, not conducting ground school over the phone.' Fredrick, Brandon. KATANA (pp. 124-125). Kindle Edition. CHAPTER 21

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SAMPLE:

SHOAN 1: (1299 CE)

Thirty-five-year-old Goro Nyudo Masamune inspected the satetsu, black iron sand, letting it run through his fingers. Placing a pinch on his tongue he closed his eyes and let his mind go blank. For several minutes he didn’t move. Finally, the iron rich sand began to oxidize the salivary proteins. After a few more moments, the unique magical, metallic taste of masa satetsu. The high quality, derived from granite, soul of the sword teased his tongue. He opened his eyes, smiled and nodded to the smelter master. The almost eighty-year-old murage who had produced the tamahagane. Literally, precious or jewel steel, the raw metal for his father, and Shintogo Kunimitsu the swordsmiths, and his teachers before him. For three days and nights the old master would oversee the tending of the clay tatara, smelter. The smelter master, from his nine-year-old apprenticeship, now with almost seven decades of experience could, by using the bellows and judgement, and senses of sight, sound and smell of the molten metal was able, without a modern gauge, to keep the temperature at a constant 1500 degrees C. While matsuzuri, pine charcoal and satetsu were added continuously by two apprentices.