The Seventh Samurai

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The Seventh Samurai Page 25

by Doug Walker


  At the top they emerged into a well-lit domed room. There was a guard's desk, but no guard. However, one entered almost immediately. He was an older man, wearing sergeant's stripes. Apparently he had been using the toilet. He stopped abruptly when he saw the two of them, but did not reach for his gun. They were too far away to read his name, and apparently he didn't recognize Kyoko. "I don't know who you are," he said, beginning to move toward his desk, "but I must send for my officer."

  Watanabe had left the cue stick in the guard station below. Anyway, he was too far away to use it. With no other choice, he pulled the pistol from his waistband and shot the man dead.

  Kyoko flinched at the sound of the gunfire. Watanabe wondered if the shot could be heard. He looked around for an escape route, then realized how foolish it would be to attempt to run and hide in a sealed tunnel complex. The water and the scuba gear was the only hope.

  "I'm sorry you had to do that," Kyoko said. "But there was no other way."

  "Yes," Watanabe agreed automatically, but his heart wasn't in it. He had fired in the heat of the moment, partly, he was sure, from fear. Now, with the man dead on the floor he knew there must have been another way. He felt a coldness in his chest as if his heart stopped beating. Then he forced himself to ask, "Which way now?"

  "Through the door in back of the desk." They walked around the dead man, not looking at him, and went through the door. They found themselves in a gallery with five metal doors, each painted in a different color. "Each door leads to a sea lock," Kyoko explained. "They are also color-coded on the seaside. Divers using these doors would wear a colored strap on their wrist corresponding to the doors."

  "Wouldn't there normally be attendants inside?" Watanabe asked.

  "I'm sure there would be," Kyoko responded. "I'm not sure of the details. I know that you can go out alone, but need assistance coming back. Of course the divers are always in pairs."

  "We better look at the equipment," Watanabe said.

  "Each room has its own. I do know that," Kyoko said. She led the way through the green door. Found a switch and turned on a light.

  There was scuba gear strewn around the room. Tanks were in one corner. Diving knives, watches, cylinder backpacks and hose and regulators were heaped in an untidy pile on the table. "This stuff looks like its been used and not put away," Watanabe said. "The air cylinders might be near empty, or badly depleted."

  "Let's try another room," Kyoko said. Watanabe followed her, wondering if the old woman planned to join him in his escape attempt. She seemed to be in good physical shape. Certainly if she remained in the tunnel she would face a serious inquiry.

  They went through the red door and found the room in the same condition as the green. Then to the blue room. Everything was in order. Watanabe was satisfied. He began assembling the equipment needed for two people on the assumption that Kyoko was going with him.

  "Do you know anything about scuba diving?" he asked. When she replied in the negative he began explaining the equipment. He found two-piece wet suits, gave one to her and told her to put it on. Then he donned one himself.

  "Have you been diving long?" Kyoko asked.

  Watanabe had been afraid she would ask. "I've never dived, but I planned to. In the last few days I've read two scuba diving books."

  Kyoko laughed aloud. "What a situation I've gotten into. We've knocked out one guard, killed another. Now I'm about to escape into deep water with a man who's never dived. This must be my lucky day! I should have checked the stars."

  "All we do, Suzuki-san, is reach the surface. These buoyancy compensators will keep us afloat." He indicated a pair of life vests. "We have control over the air content in several ways. First we can blow them up a little by mouth before we exit. Then there's a gas cartridge. Pull a string and the vest will inflate."

  He showed her how the cartridge worked, then pointed to another string. "This is an emergency dump valve. If you're rising too fast, which is dangerous, pull this string and you let the air out fast."

  "What if you fire the gas cartridge and the vest blows up and explodes? I suppose you'd sink like a rock."

  "No, there's an over-pressure relief valve. No time to explain everything. This will be one quick trip." They selected masks, helped each other on with cylinder backpacks and tried the breathing pieces. Watanabe was facing away from the door adjusting his equipment when the door eased open. A man stood in the open door holding a submachine gun. Kyoko could see another man behind him.

  "Don't move, either of you," the armed man said. "Put up your hands." Watanabe turned in surprise and bitter disappointment. They had been so close. If he had put on the equipment and gone alone he would have made it. He raised his hands and faced the guard in silence.

  "This man kidnapped me!" Kyoko exclaimed. "And he has a gun. It's there on the table. Watanabe had placed it there, meaning to put it in his belt before going out the sea lock. "Shall I get it?"

  The guard eyed the woman suspiciously and said, "No. I'm going to lock you both up until after the Event. Then we'll see what's what."

  "But I am the Geisha," Kyoko said. "Surely you know me. My cousin is the Seventh Samurai."

  "Forgive me, if you are who you say you are, but I don't know what's going on here. I do know there's a dead man in the other room and no one is authorized to be diving at this time, except those preparing for the Event. It will be soon, so your confinement will be short."

  He looked at the gun across the room and decided to leave it where it was. If this man had killed the guard he was probably very dangerous. Ignoring Kyoko for the moment he turned to Watanabe and was about to order him into the gallery where his partner was waiting.

  When they had first come into the room Kyoko had noticed a spring-loaded spear gun lying on the table. She had picked it up momentarily, long enough to see how the simple mechanism worked. Now she reached behind her, felt for the gun, grasped it, released the safety and in one move brought it around her body and fired the barbed spear into the guard's side. He screamed in pain, his gun barrel turned toward the ceiling. Watanabe stepped forward, grabbed the weapon and pushed the guard back into the gallery. He fired a burst into the gallery then slammed the door shut, but there was no lock.

  "Did you shoot the man's partner?" Kyoko shouted.

  "No, he ducked. I tried to scare him. Let's get out of here! Got everything on?"

  "I think so. How about you?"

  "Yeah," Watanabe said, then handed her the submachine gun. "Watch the door. I'll see how this sea lock works." Watanabe struggled, but it wouldn't give. He kicked it, then found a wrench and banged on it. Still it wouldn't open. "There must be some trick to it." He began a careful examination.

  "Hurry up," Kyoko said. "They're sure to raise an alarm."

  "I'm doing the best I can," Watanabe said, searching frantically, but thoroughly. Finally he found spring-loaded pistol grip catches on each side of the door. Once they were released, the heavy steel door, circled by a thick rubber seal, opened easily. "OK, get in," Watanabe said.

  As he spoke, the door from the gallery began to inch open. Kyoko emptied the sub machinegun into the door, dropped the weapon and darted into the sea lock. Watanabe followed and dragged the door shut from the inside. He found the light, protected by heavy, rubber-grommeted glass, and switched it on.

  Instructions for exiting to the sea were stenciled on the wall. Watanabe read them carefully, then opened the large valve to admit seawater into the chamber. Both of them shuddered as the cold water splashed their bodies and rose above their ankles. "Let's inflate these vests just a little," Watanabe said.

  In his haste, Watanabe had left the gun on the table. He had strapped on a diving knife and underwater watch and compass, passing up the depth gauge. The surface was his only goal. "I've never been so cold. My legs feel like they're locked." The water was up to Kyoko's elbows and rising fast.

  "Get ready for the pressure," Watanabe said. "You'll feel it soon. Better start breathing through your mo
uthpiece. Try to relax. Remember, if you don't rise fast enough, pull the gas string."

  Kyoko nodded and pushed the breathing piece into her mouth. The water was almost to her chin. They could hear noises on the other side of the door. The guard must have regained his courage and entered the room.

  Watanabe hoped there wasn't any way to lock the outer door. He adjusted his mouthpiece and facemask as water swirled about his neck and soon engulfed him. His hand was on the heavy handle that controlled the outer door. He reached over and squeezed Kyoko's arm and felt her hand give his forearm a firm squeeze. The sea lock was filled with water now, the pressure mounting. Watanabe put his weight against the handle and it slowly gave way.

  Then he pushed open the heavy door to the sea, gripped Kyoko's hand in his and they stepped out into the cold, briny darkness.

  CHAPTER 50: The Deception

  In the nerve center of the Fuurin Kazan secret underwater fastness, the technical staff was in full charge. Most of the energy was spent uniting warheads and missiles and making the units operational. But a small specialized segment of the staff was monitoring the undersea waters outside and the surface of the water above.

  Long ago, throughout the waters of the Tsugaru Strait they had deployed hydrophones - elaborate ears, microphones that process undersea noises, but make no noise themselves, permitting listening without detection. Technicians had also installed sonar devices, but no one of the Fuurin Kazan dared used them. Although the pulses of electromagnetic radiation employed by sonar are effective in locating and classifying objects, they can be detected.

  The Fuurin Kazan's other source of information included people who watch the surface of the Strait and report through secure telephone lines, plus members of the Japanese Defense Force who had access to all levels of information and similarly reported.

  The technical staff in the Fuurin Kazan nerve center had excellent knowledge of what was going on as the time neared for the missile launches, and what they knew they didn't like. The U.S. Navy and Defense Force vessels were all too near the launch site.

  In just two hours the first twelve missiles would be ready for launch. The remaining missiles would be let go minutes later.

  The trick was to lure the enemy away from the launch site. Plans for this purpose had been finalized a year earlier. Now the officer in charge pushed the button to activate the first noise box. Two such boxes were in place, away from the actual launch site, but near enough to the tunnel so that they would be taken seriously. The first such box was west of the tunnel near the Hokkaido shore, just south of a lighthouse called Shirakami. The second was east of the tunnel near the midway point, in a vast stretch of open water.

  Noise boxes were exactly what they were called: Large steel boxes equipped to make a variety of noises at the whim of their operator. Each could emit two types of motor noises. The operator could combine the noises into many medleys. There was also sonar equipment that could pulse out electromagnetic radiation to further confound the enemy.

  But the trump card mounted on each noise box was an actual missile that could be launched. It was designed to have an extremely short range, yet generate the maximum heat and make the maximum racket during launch.

  With the first noisemaker activated, the operator pressed a button for "moderate engine noise." He would let that go for five minutes then switch on the second box and immediately activate its sonar. That program would have a seven or eight minute duration.

  ***

  In his flag command headquarters in the front of the bridge of his Belknap-class cruiser, Admiral Blades paced the deck. With all the force he had at his command, including a Virginia-class and California-class guided missile cruiser, nothing concrete had been learned about the Fuurin Kazan operation. The Seawolf-class sub had also come on station and was prowling the waters of the Strait west of the tunnel, while the LA-class took the east side.

  "Dammit, they've got to make some fuckin' noise," Blades said for the third time.

  "We have some activity, Sir," a youthful ensign shouted.

  "What is it, Ensign?"

  "The Seawolf reports engine noise up toward the Hokkaido shore. Cannot identify."

  "Could be a fishing boat that's gone astray," Blades said.

  "The noise is well underwater, Sir. Near the bottom."

  "Let's get a helicopter up there quick. Drop a few hydrophones. Is Seawolf headed that way?"

  "She's closing, Sir. Best speed."

  Minutes later there was a report on sonar on the other side of the tunnel in deep, open water. The source could not be identified. More helicopters were dispatched and the LA-class sub moved in to take a look.

  Not long after that the engine noises near Hokkaido were replaced by odd sounds, not the normal sounds of a submarine, or other vessels underway. "We might have something here," Blades said hopefully.

  Next the sonar noises on the west side of the tunnel gave way to strange engine noises, followed by an unusual assortment of sounds. "I think some sly fucker is blowing smoke up our ass," Blades said curtly. "But we have to follow up. Let's close on the noises, but not give away all the apples. Let me know when any vessel or aircraft is in torpedo range. Whatever's making the noises, we'll smoke it, then lay down a pattern of depth charges. Alert any subs to be ready to clear the area when the time comes."

  ***

  In the Fuurin Kazan command center it was duly noted with some pride that an assortment of U.S. Navy and Defense Force vessels were converging on the locations of the two noise boxes. At the first sign of attack on the two boxes, the missiles would be fired.

  CHAPTER 51: In the Water

  Watanabe and Kyoko were suspended in the cold water, neither going up or down. Watanabe had misjudged. They had not blown enough air into their buoyancy compensators. He held Kyoko's hand firmly in the silent darkness, silence interrupted only by the sounds of their breathing, and she clutched his, desperately seeking some clue as to what to do next. Watanabe knew what to do, but he had no way of communicating with Kyoko. They must blow more air into their buoyancy compensators, but to do this, they each needed two hands. He had made another mistake, not linking them together with a line. If he let Kyoko go, even for a moment, she might drift off and be lost forever in the inky blackness.

  Watanabe reasoned if he could somehow hang onto Kyoko he could put enough air in his own vest to lift the two of them gently and slowly to the surface. The pressure was immense. It pressed in on his ears like ice picks. He knew Kyoko must be feeling it and might be giving way to panic. He at least had read the books and knew what to expect.

  If he could not hold Kyoko with his hands, he would use his legs, he reasoned. Slowly he brought his legs up around the woman's slim waist and grasped her. His feet were already numbed by the icy water, but he took his best grip and released her hand. Then he took deep breaths from his regulator, removed it from his mouth, found the mouthpiece to his vest, blew into it, and as quickly as possible returned the regulator to his mouth. It was working. He could feel his body rise and he tightened his leg grip on Kyoko.

  He had taken the regulator out of his mouth for the third time when Kyoko suddenly twisted and squirmed free. She was fighting him! She had been too far underwater for too long. The pressure and intense chill had gotten to her. Then she felt restrained by his leg grip. She pushed off of his body with her legs and was gone in the tar-black water.

  Without her weight, Watanabe's body rose slowly through the water. Finding Kyoko was impossible, he knew. Her loss was maddening to him. Despite all his efforts, what had he succeeded in doing? The missiles would soon be fired and he knew the tunnel was impregnable on a short-term basis.

  His body continued upward, like a pathetic figure on a long, cold elevator ride. He breathed heavily again, removed the regulator and put more air into his vest. He would never reach the surface, he was sure.

  Then finally, he was there. He pushed up his mask and turned away from the direction of the low swells. Low in the
water, he blew more air into his vest and attempted to look around. There was darkness on all sides. He listened intently. A small splash, then what sounded like a hoarse gasp.

  "Suzuki-san," he shouted. "Is that you, Suzuki-san?" Another splash, this time louder, like someone hitting the water with their hands. It wasn't far. He swam in that direction. "Suzuki-san, I'm on my way." He continued following the sound until he came to a black form, bobbing on the swells. "Suzuki-san," he cried, grasping her arm. "are you all right?"

  "Watanabe, I'm finished," she croaked. "My lungs, bleeding."

  Watanabe felt her buoyancy compensator. It was fully inflated. He guessed that she had pulled the cord on her CO2 cartridge and shot from the high-pressure depths to the low-pressure surface like a bullet. Her lungs could have almost exploded. "Hold on to my tank straps, Suzuki-san. I think I spotted a light. I'll pull you ashore. You'll be OK."

  "Not all right," she said hoarsely, then seemed to choke. "I'm dead. I must tell you." Each word was forced out, obviously causing pain. Watanabe stopped pleading and listened. "If you're in time, there's a way to stop Yoshimoto from this awful thing. A telephone number in the secret tunnel, a coded message with a pushbutton phone, and the tunnel blows, sealed forever."

  "How could that be?" Watanabe asked.

  "If the Fuurin Kazan was to fail, they were all to die together in the tunnel, their secret locked under the Straits. Explosive charges set in several places to blow openings to the sea. It would be all over in minutes."

  "And no missiles would be fired?"

  With labored words, Kyoko said, "None. Everything is done through electric wires linked to the tunnel's computers. Once the water hits the circuit, everything shorts out. But the message." She gave him the access number and he repeated it three times.

  "We translated the message into English to make it more difficult. It will be easier for you," Kyoko gasped. "It is this: 'Fuurin Kazan,' then without punctuation punch the time and the date. The date should be in numbers, first the day, then the month, then the year, the entire four digits of the year. After that punch in 'banzai sayonara.'"

 

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