by Joe Weber
"I must apologize for the inconvenience," Susan murmured weakly and turned her head away from Takahashi. "It strikes so suddenly."
"Certainly," Matsukawa said. He pushed himself away from his desk and rose to walk them to the door. "We'll reschedule the interview when you're feeling better."
"That would be great," Steve replied briskly and saw Takahashi stop and stare at them for a few seconds. A moment later the senior executive rushed for his door. The deception was over.
Chapter 39.
ANCHORAGE
Pragmatically, the President decided to take a stronger stance since the Prime Minister appeared to be intent on taking command of the meeting. Flanked by Bud Tidwell and Bryce Mellongard, he decided to take on the caustic Japanese leader in a one-on-one battle.
"Prime Minister Koyama," the President's voice resonated through the conference room, "we aren't threatening anyone with a tanker blockade, and we understand about the accident that caused the chain reaction aboard the Kitty Hawk. That's why we're sending another carrier into the strait to stabilize the region as quickly as possible."
Koyama's sullen face gave away his feelings. The President was lying and everyone at the table knew it.
"The growing dissension," the President continued forcefully, "between our countries is--in my opinion--not inextricable. If we are willing to work together, which I'm confident that we can, then we'll be able to resolve some of the complex issues that face our nations."
Koyama gave the President a contemptuous sneer while Foreign Minister Nagumo Katsumoto nodded his agreement to the proposal to ease tensions between the two countries. Ambassador Hagura remained quiet, but his rubbery face indicated that he liked the idea of compromise.
"The fundamental issues," Genshiro Koyama said just as forcefully, "are fueled by American arrogance and broken agreements. We are not underlings to anyone--including the United States."
You have the unmitigated gall to mention broken agreements, the President almost said before he regained his composure.
Feeling more determined than ever, the President glanced at Hagura and Katsumoto. Both statesmen were quiet and reserved. Neither showed any visible signs of hostility.
"Gentlemen"--the President flashed his most disarming smile--"I propose that we take a short break--say, fifteen to twenty minutes--then we'll reconvene."
Before anyone could react, he rose and started around the end of the table while the other men shoved back their chairs and got to their feet.
"Prime Minister Koyama," the President said warmly, "may I have a word with you in private?"
Koyama hesitated until Katsumoto and Hagura walked away with the two Americans, then turned to the President. "Whatever you wish."
"I think it would be helpful," the President went on in a conciliatory gesture, "if we could spend a few minutes together."
Koyama gave him a dismissive shrug.
"Why don't we go to the lounge at the rooftop restaurant," the President suggested. "Security still has it sealed from the public."
"The lounge will be fine," Koyama agreed and noticed Secretary Mellongard hurrying back to the President. "I'll meet you there."
"I'll only be a minute," the President assured the brusque politician and turned to his Defense Secretary.
"Sir," Mellongard began in a guarded tone, "one of our cruisers forced an Iranian submarine--the Taregh--to the surface near where Kitty Hawk went down."
The President showed no emotion. "Did our ASW folks know it was Iranian?"
"No, but they knew from the sound signature that it was a Kilo-class boat and surmised that it was Iranian."
"And?" he prompted.
"Our people," Mellongard went on without enthusiasm, "tracked the suspicious target with a helicopter for almost an hour before Cowpens fired an Asroc missile at the contact. The submarine, which is slightly damaged, surfaced about two to three minutes later."
"Is there any indication"--the President began to walk out of the room--"that it may have torpedoed Kitty Hawk?"
"Not yet, sir. Admiral Landesman is attempting to get permission to have a boarding party search the sub for any indication that they fired torpedoes."
"Bryce"--the President lowered his voice--"tell the Admiral that he has my permission to do whatever he needs to do. I want an answer about the torpedoes and I want to find out if the Iranians were involved in sinking the carrier."
"Yes, sir."
"You and Bud keep everyone entertained until I get back." Mellongard nodded. "Will do."
TOKYO
Steve and Susan knew they didn't have a second to waste as they ran for the elevator. The CIA agent glanced back when they heard Takahashi yell for the security detail. The small, dapper man who had been in charge of the brutal attack at Pearl Harbor sounded panic-stricken.
Steve was jabbing the elevator door button when he saw Takahashi race into the chairman's office.
Tadashi Matsukawa, initially paralyzed by the sudden confusion surrounding him, was shocked by the disclosure of the true identities of his two visitors. He cursed himself for waiting to murder Takahashi. Now, if he didn't kill the two agents, he was tied directly to the Pearl Harbor massacre.
Matsukawa quickly reached into his desk and withdrew a stainless-steel 9-millimeter Sig Sauer and rushed into the hallway.
"Call security!" he bellowed at the receptionist. "Get security up here!"
The frightened woman triggered an alarm that began howling throughout the building, prompting Steve to take Susan by the arm. "We've got to go down the stairs!"
They raced to the end of the hallway and instinctively ducked when two rounds ricocheted off the wall near the stairwell. Steve looked back and saw Matsukawa and the receptionist vanish behind her counter--Takahashi had disappeared.
Steve pushed Susan around the corner and into the staircase, then reached under his coat and drew his Beretta from the small of his back.
"Start down and I'll cover you!" he yelled and squeezed off three rounds at Matsukawa as the billionaire scrambled back to the safety of the counter.
Steve spun around to follow Susan, almost knocking her down. "Let's go! Move!"
"They're coming up the stairs," she told him in a strained voice and yanked her Smith & Wesson from her purse. "We better identify ourselves."
"It won't do any good." He fired a round down the hallway. "Matsukawa owns these guys! They don't give a shit who we are!"
Another shot rang out from the hallway as the alarm system wailed with a pulsating, high-pitched warble.
"Sonuvabitch," Steve swore under his breath and glanced at the short flight of stairs leading to the top of the building. "We've got to try the roof. Maybe there's a fire escape." "If there isn't," Susan protested, "we'll be trapped."
"We don't have many choices. Get up to the roof and I'll cover you."
He fired twice while Susan scurried up the steep steps. The door leading to the roof was locked.
"We can't get out," she yelled as she struggled with the lock. "We've got to take our chances and go back down!"
Wickham leaped up the steps and took a quick look at the obstacle that was blocking their path.
"Stand back," he barked while he braced himself against the railing and kicked the door as hard as he could. He kicked again, then in desperation another time when he heard the excited voices getting louder.
"Hold this," Steve said stiffly as he handed Susan his weapon and used his hands to brace himself. He leaped up and smashed the stubborn door with both feet, crashing to the stairs when the door flew open.
Susan handed him his Beretta as they rushed outside to see if there was any means of escape. It was quickly apparent that there was only one way down, short of jumping off the roof, and that was the same way they had come up.
"We're trapped," Steve said bitterly, "and these goons aren't going to allow us to give up. Trust me."
THE TOP-OF-THE-WORLD LOUNGE
An eerie silence hung in the room after the
Secret Service agents and their Japanese counterparts replaced the barricade to the restaurant and lounge. The two leaders, who shared a sense of anxiety and animosity, sat down at a table overlooking the spectacular mountains.
"Prime Minister Koyama," the President began earnestly, "we need to reach an agreement about a couple of major issues or this conference will be seen as a waste of everyone's time and energy. We've got to bring our people and our countries closer together."
Genshiro Koyama stared into the distance for a long moment before turning to the President. "Your major concern is our expanding military, is that not correct?"
"That's true," he answered slowly, "and we're not the only ones who are becoming alarmed. With the decline of U. S. and Russian activity in Southeast Asia, the waters of the China Sea, the northeast Indian Ocean, and the western Pacific have become a more complex operating environment."
The President saw a glimmer of annoyance flash across Koyama's rigid face.
"We're trying to organize," the President explained, "a Western Pacific Naval Alliance, similar to our NATO allies in the North Atlantic region. We see Japan as a cornerstone of this type of coalition."
The President paused, hoping Koyama might embrace the idea. The Prime Minister gave the impression of being bored.
"However," the President said at last, "there's a perplexing issue to deal with before we can pour the foundation for the alliance. As I said, many countries, including the members of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations, are worried about the growing military forces of Japan."
"They should be worried about their own affairs," Koyama snapped, "and leave Japan to our own designs."
Angered by the bruising confrontation, the President felt his pulse rise. "Regardless of how you feel, we're going to have to deal with this military problem."
Koyama's eyes narrowed and he glowered at the American President. The gesture sent an undercurrent of tension through the room. "We will make the decisions about our military," he hissed.
"You know there's a lot of sensitivity attached to the issue," the President said firmly, "and I'm determined to alleviate the problem."
Koyama's raspy voice became harsh. "As you know, we've been reviewing the 1946 Constitution. We feel that certain changes have to be made in the interest of Japan."
"That's what concerns us," the President replied as pleasantly as possible.
"Mr. President," Koyama shot back indignantly, "the Japanese people resent being ruled by a document written by foreigners. We should have a military to match our status as world leaders, and the Emperor should be declared the head of state, not just an empty symbol, as required by the postwar constitution."
"Prime Minister Koyama," the President said politely in an effort to show sincerity and concern, "before we discuss a review of Japan's constitution, I'm going to put my cards on the table."
Koyama's dark eyes reflected the contempt he felt toward Americans in general and this President in particular.
"I was reading about Japanese military exploits," the President declared with a friendly smile, "and discovered a basic philosophy about camouflage that I hadn't realized before."
The Prime Minister became wary and exuded a sense of growing irritation.
"If you only move an inch at a time," the President went on with a touch of a drawl, "you can move great distances before the enemy realizes you've even moved. It apparently takes the mind a while to triangulate the clever subterfuge."
Koyama suddenly looked disgusted. "And you believe that's how Japan again became a military power." He fixed his eyes on the man he had grown to despise.
"Let's just say that we haven't been as diligent as we should have been," the President countered dryly, "and your country has taken advantage of the situation and ignored the constitutional ban on the existence of a military in Japan."
Both men studied each other during the uncomfortable silence.
"Calling a growing military power"--the President carefully selected his words--"a Self-Defense Force, to skirt the word `military' and circumvent the constitution, is exactly what has happened, and everyone has looked the other way."
"Are you suggesting," Koyama grumbled loudly, "that we stop expanding our military capability?"
"No," the President answered calmly and looked at the mountain scenery.
"Then I suggest we return to the conference room," Koyama said in his coarse rasp, "and expedite this meeting."
The President's demeanor changed from that of a pleasant gentleman to a person who was clearly combative. "I'm not saying that you should put a cap on the Japanese military. What I am saying is that we will continue to help defend Japan as long as we agree to the size and scope of your military forces."
For a long moment there was another period of silence in the lounge, sending a renewed level of tension through the empty room. The Prime Minister wasn't sure he had understood what the American had said.
"Our position is very straightforward," the President announced provocatively. "Our government--and many of our allies--are going to ensure that Japan does not become a global military power."
Chapter 40.
MARUNOUCHI BUSINESS DISTRICT
The first Japanese security guard to reach the top of the stairway was accompanied by a snarling, snapping, gray and black German shepherd.
"Susan," Steve cautioned in a steady voice, "don't make any quick or threatening moves."
She remained silent while they inched backwards toward the edge of the building.
The uniformed guard raised his gun. Steve had no choice. He shot the man twice in the chest and the barking Alsatian charged him.
"Steve!" Susan cried out as she fired at a second security guard. He staggered a half-dozen steps and fell to his knees, then rolled onto his side and lay still.
Wickham shot at the dog and missed. He raised his left arm to protect his throat and backed near the edge of the roof as the enraged animal leaped at him.
He squatted slightly, then thrust himself upward and twisted sideways, catapulting the dog over the side of the building.
Susan stopped in midstride as Steve frantically waved his arms to catch his balance while he teetered on the edge of the roof. As he felt himself going over, Wickham spun around and desperately grabbed for the cement edging.
"Hang on!" Susan yelled as she rushed to help him. A split second later, she caught a glimpse of Matsukawa as he stepped through the door and onto the roof.
They exchanged shots before she rolled behind an air-conditioning unit.
Wickham was struggling to hoist himself up on the roof when Matsukawa ran over to him and raised his Sig Sauer to shoot the CIA agent in the head.
Susan crawled from behind the air-conditioning machinery and pumped three rounds into Matsukawa's side. The businessman screamed and cursed in agony as he crumbled to the roof, then fell over the edge of the building:
With her heart in her throat, Susan raced over to Wickham as he painfully pulled himself up and threw a leg over the concrete lip on the roof, then crawled to safety.
"Give me your badge and your gun!" Steve ordered Susan while he jumped to his feet and ran to the nearer of the two wounded security officers.
"What are you talking about?" Susan demanded while Wickham rolled the mortally wounded man onto his stomach and yanked the handcuffs and key from his service belt.
"You're now in my custody"--he was breathing heavily--"and we're going to get the hell out of here!"
"Have you gone crazy?"
"Turn around," he barked and clamped her arms behind her with the handcuffs. "I've got the key in my pocket."
"Steve," she said curtly, "I don't like this idea."
"Come on!" he commanded and placed Susan's badge in his shirt pocket as he marched her toward the entrance to the stairway. "We have to get creative if we're going to survive."
"I hope," she fumed in a guttural voice, "that you know what the hell you're doing."
"That makes it
unanimous."
She gave him a quick glance. "You are crazy."
Wickham fired three shots down the hallway to force everyone to run for cover, then jammed his Beretta into the small of his back and dropped Susan's weapon into his jacket pocket.
"Let's go," he exclaimed and grabbed Susan tightly by the upper arm to steady her while they bounded down the steps. "Hopefully, the guards won't have our description yet--so play it like a fugitive."
Susan lost her balance and Steve caught her before she stumbled facefirst into a wall. "Careful!"
"Steve, I feel helpless . . ."
"That's the image we want to project."
A few seconds later, they collided with a security guard and two policemen as all five tried to force their way through the stairwell entry on the ground floor.
Steve yanked Susan's badge out and flashed it in front of the three men while they gawked at the two strangers and backed away in stunned silence.
"Captain Rodzwicky," Steve said boldly, "Special Operations. I've captured one of the saboteurs, but there are three or four others loose on the top two floors.
"They're armed and dangerous," Steve continued loudly, "and the ringleader is a small man in a dark-gray suit with light-gray pinstripes."
Susan's eyes grew large and she looked at Steve. That's what the man who was in Hawaii is wearing.
"Be careful," Wickham cautioned and shoved Susan past the officers.
"Thank you, Captain," one of the policemen said formally while the other two men acknowledged the information and warning with a nod and slight bow.
"Excuse me, mate! Step aside!" Steve said to the onlookers as he deftly unlocked Susan's handcuffs and led her through the confused crowd.
"Gangway, lads," he said in his best Australian accent while he pocketed the handcuffs and flashed Susan's badge. "Police, mate. Make room! Now clear the way!"
When they reached the street, Steve and Susan heard a shot ring out. They paused and looked up toward the roof. Two security guards were pointing at them. One was talking into a portable transceiver.