Honorable Enemies (1994)

by Joe Weber

  Pentagon sources indicated the sudden move was due to security reasons stemming from the recent crash of an F-16 at Misawa. The air-superiority fighter reportedly was hit by a surface-to-air SAM missile shortly after takeoff. White House officials have yet to deny or confirm the story.

  "You're up bright and early." Susan smiled as she approached the outdoor table near the swimming pool.

  Steve quickly folded the paper and rose to greet her. "Good morning."

  "Ohayoo gozaimasu," she replied and sat down across from him. "Marcus is doing well and resting comfortably." "Great. Can we see him today?"

  "I'm sure we can," she answered and looked at a note she had scribbled for Callaway. "His wife will be arriving later today, so he'll be in good hands."

  "That's a relief."

  "It sure is. The doctor told me that he'll be able to return to Chicago in a couple of days."

  "I'll miss him," Steve said with a glimmer of emotion, "but I'm just glad he's okay. It could have been a lot worse."

  "True. He was lucky this time." Susan eyed Steve's handsome face for a moment. "Any news, about the military search?"

  "Not yet, I'm afraid."

  He offered her a cup of hot tea from the urn sitting on the table. "Have you made any headway?"

  "A little." She sipped the warm tea. "But I have a strange feeling about this entire incident."

  Steve gave her a knowing look. "Like we're caught in a house of mirrors, and someone--someone close enough to reach out and touch us--is watching our every move?"

  "Exactly." Susan was surprised by Steve's perception. "The real ownership of the house is totally submerged in a sea of corporations and assorted holding companies. Someone has gone through a tremendous amount of trouble and expense to disguise the actual owner."

  Steve shoved his cup aside and leaned forward. "Someone who has so much money that they could afford to walk away from a mansion in Hawaii. . . ."

  Susan nodded and looked him in the eye. "Someone who wanted to incite the Japanese people and stretch to the limit the already fragile U. S.-Japanese relationship."

  He could tell that something was bothering her. She was tense and preoccupied.

  Steve let his gaze travel to the paper. "I see that the car that rammed us was found near the entrance to the Polynesian Cultural Center."

  "That's right," she replied and reached into her attache case for her copies of the FBI reports. "Their suits were found in the car, so they obviously changed into casual clothes and probably blended in with a tour group to get transportation back to Honolulu."

  "Yeah," Steve said to himself, "that makes sense."

  "After that it was easy. Just a routine cab ride to the airport and they were off to Tokyo."

  Steve was puzzled. "The law enforcement officials had their descriptions. They couldn't miss the guy with the mangled ear, and the airport was swarming with cops and FBI agents. Didn't they check any IDs?"

  "No." The tone of resentment in her voice was tempered by her usual pleasantness. "Our people were told not to inconvenience any Japanese tourists unless they were absolutely certain they had the individuals who were in the Nissan."

  Steve closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. "No, we sure wouldn't want to inconvenience anyone."

  "The local police," she went on without showing any emotion, "were even more touchy about offending the Japanese." "Money?"

  "Yes. On the average"--Susan paused while two Japanese women and their children walked past the table--"a million dollars is pumped into the economy every time a Japanese airliner touches down here, so most local people are sensitive about maintaining good relations with the people who happen to have the money."

  Steve decided to keep his thoughts about the local economy to himself. "Why are you so sure they went to Tokyo?"

  She slid some photocopies to him. "Our people have done a great job, but they ran into a dead end. The car lease was signed by the same person who signed the papers for the house. The handwriting was identical. Everything was handled in cash and they used phony names. However, the certified funds for the house came from a bank in Tokyo, so that's where I think we should concentrate our efforts."

  "Interesting."

  Susan glanced toward Diamond Head before she continued the conversation. "The account at the Tokyo bank, which was under another bogus name, was closed the day after the attack on the tour ship."

  Steve leaned back in his chair and wearily shook his head.

  "This whole thing is bizarre," he said, thinking out loud. "Who would go through all the associated risks involved in attacking a tour ship in broad daylight at Pearl Harbor, especially when it's full of people of the same nationality? It just doesn't track--at least in my mind."

  "You don't understand the Japanese culture," Susan explained as pleasantly as possible. "Steve, busy Japanese executives hire actors to stand in for them at family reunions, birthdays, and other gatherings. You may think that's really bizarre, but the Japanese who rent the actors think it's efficient and increases their productivity."

  He smiled wanly. "I must be losing it."

  "No, you just need to think in a different spectrum. This whole thing wasn't as exotic and elaborate as many Japanese projects are, but it was designed to look reasonably simple and straightforward."

  "Americanized," he offered.

  "You said it." She shrugged in agreement and continued.

  "The key is Pearl Harbor and the Caucasian pilot. You could do a number of things to inflame the tenuous relationship between the two countries, but memories of Pearl Harbor gave this assault a life of its own."

  "No question about that."

  "After the attack," Susan went on, "we've seen a series of escalating incidents, including the JAL crash in Los Angeles and the attacks on the U. S. military."

  Susan cocked her head and studied his face. "These attacks could be the catalyst that causes everything to spin out of control between us and the Japanese."

  She waited for two giggling children to run by on their way to the beach. "The attack here was an efficient, well-planned operation that was almost flawless. Even with their bad luck, the person or persons who planned the attack had enough good luck to leave only a lukewarm trail."

  "And you think that leads to Tokyo?"

  Susan arched her eyebrows and gave him a self-assured smile. "There's no question in my mind."

  "I hope you're right, but we're going to need something fairly solid to go on."

  She nodded in agreement. "Let's take a minute to talk about the helicopter."

  "Okay."

  "The two men who were in the JetRanger didn't have any identification on them and they were burned beyond recognition. Because the crash was so violent, there is some doubt about trying to match dental records. So we can only hope that we can trace the helicopter to the owner."

  "I checked on the JetRanger," Steve said glumly, "and that's another dead end. The helo was purchased from a Brazilian mining enterprise called Vale do Rio Doce. The corporate entity that purchased the JetRanger paid cash, the company no longer exists, and the FAA and Bell Aircraft files indicate the helo was destroyed five months ago near Lima."

  He let hisg lance drift to a bird that was feasting on crumbs at an adjacent table. "I just can't put any of the pieces together.

  This is one of the craziest cases I've ever heard of, let alone been involved in."

  She followed Steve's gaze to the colorful crumb-snatcher hopping around near them. "It only sounds crazy because you don't think like a Japanese."

  Steve nodded and turned his attention to Susan. "Maybe you're right."

  Susan smiled warmly. "Let me give you some background information about the Japanese and how they think?"

  "Sure," he agreed and noticed her assertion of pride.

  "When I was a child, my grandmother read to me on a daily basis," she explained, touching his hand for emphasis. "She spent many hours instilling the history of Japan in me. What became clear was th
at the Japanese people have always been a determined race with strong motivations and traditions. They are a sensitive people, and emotions sometimes play a greater part in their actions than rational reflection."

  Steve gave her a questioning look.

  "Think about it," she said convincingly. "They've displayed suicidal tenacity, superhuman intensity, unfailing courage in the most adverse conditions, and a zealous capability to withstand the pain and suffering necessary to make their country strong, efficient, and profitable."

  He gave her a slight nod. "I understand what you're saying, and I admire them for pulling together as a nation, but what does that have to do with this situation?'.'

  "Steve, there are a number of powerful Japanese leaders who have deep-seated desires for Japan to be an empire again--both economically and militarily--and I think someone may be trying to accelerate the growing rift between the U. S. and Japan."

  "Susan," he began tentatively, "I don't mean to question your intuition, but the empire philosophy is what led Japan to disaster in World War Two. Surely the Japanese people haven't forgotten that significant piece of history."

  "That's true," she conceded, "and they haven't forgotten--but it doesn't make any difference."

  He furrowed his brow. "It doesn't make any difference?"

  "No, it doesn't," she said sadly and glanced down. "The Japanese leaders--the core of men at the center of power--still want to dominate the world, including China and the United States."

  The statement brought the conversation to an awkward halt for a few seconds.

  "There's a big difference," Steve finally replied, "between wanting to dominate the world . . . and facing the reality of your real capabilities."

  "That may make sense to you," she explained evenly, "but you can't convince the warrior mentality. They're a very proud people and they don't like being number two to anyone, especially to people who they consider to be intellectually and morally inferior."

  Susan paused when she saw Steve's jaw muscles tighten.

  "Now," she said more softly, "they're so close to being a major empire, both economically and militarily, that they can taste and smell the victory."

  He cast Susan a fleeting look. "Victory--as in a shooting war with us?"

  "Yes," she replied calmly. "The United States is the only thing standing in the way of Japan becoming a colossal military power again."

  "Susan, are you suggesting that Japan is going to provoke the U. S. into going to war?"

  "It's inevitable," she answered evenly, "at some point in the near future. As their money and military grow, the warriors' egos continue to swell at an accelerated rate. Japan is not going to bow and smile to the Chinese or the Americans much longer--and I think someone wants to speed the process along."

  Steve was momentarily speechless. He knew that even though the Japanese could now field a formidable military, they couldn't compete with the American aircraft carriers and nuclear submarines. "You're really convinced that we're going to see Japan and the U. S. engaged in combat?"

  "Sure. The Japanese have strong warrior traditions. From the Heiji and Gempei wars in the mid to late 1100s, to World War Two, the Empire has been involved in so many wars it's hard to recall all of them."

  Steve indicated that he had a question. "You're talking about the Medieval Period?"

  "Yes," came the dry response. "The civil wars took quite a toll on the losers, but they consistently regrouped, rearmed, and attacked again. Many of the losing factions rose from total defeat to strike down their former victors."

  Susan gave Steve an icy look. "Believe me, the Japanese state of mind hasn't changed."

  "I don't know what to say," Steve replied in his respectful way. "It's just difficult for me to understand Japanese thinking, especially after the horrors of World War Two."

  "Steve," Susan countered with a smile, "the two cultures are polar opposites, with different foundations of logic and reason.

  "The brave warrior of past battles," she went on with conviction in her voice, "is surfacing in the Japanese males who control the country. Japanese history is again coming full circle, and the U. S. is in the way, along with the military threat from China and North Korea."

  Wickham was reminded of a recent briefing at Langley. "A number of knowledgeable people agree with your prediction." "Probably more than you think."

  "Some of the analysts"--Steve let his eyes drift to the beach--"are convinced that an Asian Cold War would renew Sino-Japanese rivalry and lead to a shooting war . . . with the U. S. being drawn into the battle."

  "That's why," Susan explained firmly, "the Japanese have quietly been rebuilding their military."

  Surprised by the urgency in her voice, Wickham turned to see the intense look in Susan's eyes.

  "Steve, when Japan capitulated to General MacArthur in 1945, it was the hardest blow the warriors had ever taken. They knew if they didn't surrender unconditionally that the Japanese race might be totally destroyed."

  "That's why it's so difficult for me to understand," he explained and looked away for a few seconds before facing her.

  "Why anyone in Japan would even think about armed conflict with the U. S. is beyond me. If things got out of control, which they would very quickly, the Japanese would run the risk of replaying the end of World War Two."

  "True." Susan lowered her voice. "The Japanese look at our declining military and compare it with their growing forces. Some of the leaders in Tokyo believe the two military powers will soon be equal, except for nuclear capability--and the Japanese are secretly working on their nuclear equalizers."

  "I hope you don't take this the wrong way," Steve began, "but I think the Japanese don't know when they're well off."

  "Many people don't know when they're well off," Susan replied with a hollow voice. "But let me go back to the end of World War Two."

  "Okay."

  "The Bushido code demanded that Japan congratulate the U. S. for having the genius to invent the atomic bomb. That's the warriors' way of saving face after they've been beaten into submission. How could a victorious nation refuse a mandatory, Bushido call for congratulations from their battered and defeated enemy?"

  He agreed and saw the hurt in her eyes. "It also provides the loser with the option of not being annihilated."

  "You hit the nail on the head!" she exclaimed. "Over the hundreds of years of traditional Japanese warfare, it has sometimes taken forty, fifty, sixty, or more years to rebuild to again fight and invade other countries. There were always cries for peace and reform, but the machismo warriors always prevailed--and they will do it again."

  Her face reflected the pain she felt. "It's in their blood, and they will surface, regardless of whether it's the age of samurai swords or nuclear weapons. Steve, it's a tradition that is hundreds of years old, and you've seen how traditional the Japanese are. The warriors still believe the Bushido code will carry them to victory or protect them in defeat so they can rebuild to fight again."

  "Unfortunately," Steve admitted sadly, "I have a feeling you're right. It's a frightening thought when you see how fast they've reconstituted their military forces."

  "Their naval power"--she glanced at the ocean--"is what I'm most concerned about because it forces other nations into an Asian arms race."

  Steve thought about the multitude of international problems that had intensified as the U. S. military was downsized and fractured by the fierce debate over force structuring.

  "Susan, we know our government should have managed the growth of the Japanese Self-Defense Forces, but they didn't pay attention and Tokyo hoodwinked them."

  "You don't have to remind me," she said with a disgruntled look.

  "Now that we've gutted our military," Steve went on with a touch of sarcasm, "the Japanese are taking full advantage of the opportunity to build on our weaknesses."

  "Why wouldn't they capitalize?" she responded with enough of a smile to be polite. "Our politicians have selective amnesia where the lessons of h
istory are concerned, especially when it's an election year and they're stuffing lots of money in their pockets from Japanese lobbyists."

  Chapter 18.

  YOKOTA AIR BASE, JAPAN

  Towering more than 12,000 feet, Mount Fuji dominated the horizon as the giant Lockheed C-SB Galaxy turned off the runway and taxied toward the parking ramp at the Air Mobility Command Post. The flight crew was completing their after-landing checklist while the seventy-two members of the special operations forces from Fort Bragg, North Carolina, were gath ering their gear and personal belongings.

  The highly trained and uniquely equipped soldiers from the Army's 1st Special Operations Command were trained to deal with insurgency and international terrorism. Being the first ground forces to arrive at Yokota Air Base, the elite troops would be supplemented by their comrades from Fort Lewis, Washington, and Okinawa, Japan. The mission of the combined forces was to protect the air base during the period of heightening tension between Japan and the United States.

  After the Galaxy lumbered to a smooth stop on the parking ramp, the engines on the mammoth transport spooled down and a hushed quiet settled over the airfield. The tranquillity was suddenly shattered when a mortar shell arced through the air and exploded next to a C-141B Starlifter parked beside the Galaxy.

  Another round ripped through the air as the soldiers scrambled from the upper deck of the C-SB. The impact-fused shell found its mark near the center of the fuselage at the right-wing root. Within a microsecond the detonation process began while the round penetrated the passenger compartment and instantaneously killed thirteen men. The shrapnel and shock wave injured or maimed another thirty-four soldiers as they fought to get out of the smoking aircraft.

  A half second later the strategic transport burst into flames as the soldiers scrambled from every exit. The ensuing inferno quickly consumed the aircraft while the firefighters worked feverishly to prevent the flames from reaching other airplanes on the ramp.

  QUEENS MEDICAL CENTER

  Marcus Callaway was quietly dozing when Susan and Steve walked into his private room. He opened one eye and the familiar smile spread across his rugged face. "I thought you guys had gone away and abandoned me."