The Man With The Red Tattoo

by Benson, Raymond

  Bond stepped around the sculpture and pulled his enemy up by the neck. He slammed Kappa against the stone wall and clutched his throat, holding him several feet off the ground.

  “Please!” Kappa choked, his voice a high-pitched whine. “Spare my life … and I will tell you … our secrets!”

  “Shut up,” Bond spat. “You’re going to answer for Reiko Tamura.”

  The dwarf could hardly breathe. “Wait!” he gasped. “There is a major … attack … in progress … on … the West …”

  Bond loosened his grip—a little.

  “This had better not be a trick.”

  “Spare me … please! I know where … Yoshida is … ! You … can … stop … Red … Widow … Dawn … !”

  Bond was suddenly reminded of the folklore legend about the supernatural kappa. The creature supposedly had an honourable nature and would bargain for his life.

  “Then talk.” Bond relaxed his grip enough to allow the dwarf to speak clearly.

  Kappa looked at him with surprise. “You are an honourable man, Bond-san. I will tell you what I know. Twenty men, carrying deadly mosquito eggs, are on their way to America. Some are travelling to the West Coast, some to the central states, and some to the East Coast. They will distribute the eggs in major cities. I can provide you with their exact destinations.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “I am part of the Ryujin-kai’s inner circle. There is one other thing that you should know.”

  “Go on.”

  “The mosquito eggs that they carry … they are different from these. The ones they have are samples of the new version—the mosquitoes that can pass the virus on to their own eggs.”

  Bond felt a flicker of fear.

  Nakayama and several men ran into the room, guns drawn. Bond let the dwarf down and turned him over to them.

  “Nakayama-san,” he said. “Take him into a conference room, and fast. He has some things to tell us.” Bond looked at Kappa and added, “And they had better not be folk tales.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  QUICK RESPONSE

  AFTER THE DISCOVERIES AT THE HOKKAIDO MOSQUITO AND VECTOR Control Centre were presented along with Junji Kon’s statement to the Japanese government, the Koan-Chosa-Cho and the National Police Agency’s report was taken seriously. A quick response was ordered against what was unanimously agreed to be a threat to Japan’s national security, not to mention the rest of the world.

  Kappa’s statement claimed that Goro Yoshida’s private army, with the help of the Ryujin-kai, was about to attack the United States with a biological weapon, namely the mutated, fast-acting West Nile virus, using genetically engineered mosquitoes capable of transferring the disease to their eggs. Twenty carriers had taken off from Tokyo that very morning on various flights that would arrive in the US several hours later. Eight men were to arrive in Los Angeles, six men would be in Chicago shortly after that and the remaining six would land in New York. Each courier held dried mosquito eggs attached to ordinary laboratory filter paper hidden in a modest envelope inside a jacket pocket. Neither the eggs nor the filter paper were detectable by airport X-ray. Since dried mosquito eggs could still hatch once they were soaked, they were the ideal conduits for smuggling a biological weapon into the country. Each carrier had a specific assignment that directed him to a public place with standing water present: a pond, a lake, or a pool. The eggs would be released into the water where, during the course of about seven days, the deadly mosquitoes would hatch, bite hosts, lay eggs and die. The new eggs would hatch a week later and another swarm of mosquitoes would repeat the deadly cycle. In another week, a fullblown epidemic would be sweeping the country.

  The Japanese decided to contact the American government immediately and at the same time turned the case over to the Japan Ground Self Defence Force. Launching an air strike on what was essentially Russian territory was obviously a diplomatic challenge but clearly necessary. Goro Yoshida had shown that he had committed treason against Japan, had taken steps to attack the country and was an enemy to world peace. The Russian government that may or may not have known that Yoshida had resided on the island of Etorofu for years reluctantly gave Japan permission to bomb the terrorist camp provided that the air force did not travel beyond the coordinates that Junji Kon had provided.

  James Bond and Nakayama insisted on flying in one of the six combat helicopters that was to take part in the raid on the Kuril Islands. They sat in a Boeing CH-47J Chinook, a large chopper that transports personnel and vehicles. Accompanying them were three Bell AH-1S Huey Cobras, helicopters that were capable of anti-tank combat, and two Bell UH-1J Hueys, medium-sized choppers that carried personnel or equipment. Bond and Nakayama had flown to Osaka, where they caught a shuttle flight to Hokkaido. They arrived just in time to join the attack force. M, alert to international protocol, had warned Bond that his official capacity was as an observer, and that he was not to use any weapons. Of course, they both knew that in self-defence he could cancel that particular directive.

  About the time that the task force was leaving Hokkaido, the first wave of carriers arrived in California. FBI and Customs officials immediately arrested the incoming passengers at the gate, confiscated their luggage and took them into custody.

  The JGSDF force flew over Etorofu and reached the target site not long after the events in California. They were expected. Yoshida’s ground forces met the helicopters with heavy resistance. His army was in possession of a Stinger and a 30mm automatic cannon with a radar fire-control system in a revolving turret that was mounted on an AMX 13 type tracked chassis. Yoshida had purchased the weapons from the Russian mafia.

  The AA gun, perched in a well-protected dugout, was successful in knocking down one of the Cobras within the first two minutes of the attack. The aircraft exploded and hurtled to the ground, where it burst into a gigantic ball of black smoke.

  “Take out that cannon!” the commander in charge ordered.

  The remaining five choppers were armed with SNIA BPD HL-12-70 rocket launchers, Bofors Bantam anti-tank missiles, AS.12 attack missiles and other weapons capable of obliterating an entire village. The teams directed this immense firepower at the AA gun, blowing it to pieces in the space of ten seconds. When the smoke cleared, there was nothing left of the dugout.

  Before the five choppers could reposition themselves for a full strike on the entire complex, a stinger missile shot out of nowhere and sliced through the Huey that was flying only sixty metres away from Bond’s. As that chopper went down in a heartbreaking trail of fire and smoke Bond spotted the soldier with the stinger and pointed him out to Nakayama. The man was perched behind sandbags covered in camouflage netting. Nakayama passed the news on to the door gunner, who walked his fire onto the stinger’s position. The rounds kicked up dirt and dust, taking out the enemy just before two Hellfire rockets from one of the Cobras completely obliterated the area.

  The remaining four helicopters unleashed an inferno on the terrorist camp. Bond felt a surge of adrenaline as he watched the landscape torn apart by the bombardment. The entire operation took thirteen minutes and forty-two seconds before the officer in charge made the “cease fire” call.

  A blow-by-blow replay of the events that had occurred a few hours earlier in Los Angeles interrupted normal service at Chicago’s O’Hare airport. Two hours later, FBI and Customs agents met the arrivals into JFK airport in New York.

  The confiscated mosquito eggs were sent to the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta, Georgia, for analysis. All of the agencies concerned agreed that if it hadn’t been for the British Intelligence agent who had delivered the information to the Japanese government so quickly, America would have had a disaster on her hands. No one wanted to think about what might have occurred had the carriers dispersed after arriving in the country.

  Back in Etorofu, more than thirty of Yoshida’s soldiers were waiting to surrender when the helicopters set down on the camp’s airstrip. Bond was forced to take a secondary position as
the troops went on to search through the remains of the bunkers for survivors. The Japanese government, still embarrassed by the prominent role a British Intelligence gaijin had played in bringing Yoshida’s plans to light, were at least able to save face by claiming sole responsibility for the success of the raid.

  The only disconcerting thing was that Goro Yoshida, dead or alive, was never found.

  Shortly before sunset on the day after the successful raid on Goro Yoshida’s camp, Yoshi Nakayama delivered a package to the suite in the Imperial Hotel.

  “I hope I am not interrupting anything?” he asked politely.

  Bond was dressed in a yukata but held the door open for him. “Not at all. Come on in.”

  “Thank you.” Nakayama entered, carrying a large elongated package wrapped in brown paper.

  “What is the latest news on Tanaka-san?” Bond asked.

  “As you know, the bypass repair was successful,” Nakayama said. “Even Tanaka-san will need to rest now. But he is fine. I spoke to him an hour ago. He sounded weak and tired, but in good spirits. He said to give you his best wishes and to thank you for everything you have done.”

  Bond waved away the words and said, “I’m just happy that he’s going to be all right. Now what’s that you’re carrying?”

  Nakayama handed the package to Bond and said, “This is for you, in gratitude from the Koan-Chosa-Cho.” He bowed.

  Bond returned the bow and said, “Nakayama-san, this was not necessary.”

  Nakayama held up a hand and said, “Please. You have done a wonderful service for Japan. That is for you, and you are cleared to take it through Customs back to England.”

  “I’m intrigued,” Bond said as he began to open it. Mayumi came in from the bedroom, also wearing a yukata. Nakayama’s eyes widened at the sight.

  “What’s going on?” she asked. “Is it your birthday?”

  “No, but I feel like it is,” Bond said. He tore the wrapper off and opened the box. Inside was a beautiful black and gold katana. The saya, or scabbard, was inlaid with an intricate red and yellow floral design. The kashira was black with a firm leather grip.

  “It’s beautiful,” Bond said with reverence in his voice.

  “James-san!” Mayumi said. “That’s a rare antique!”

  “It is from the twelfth century, Bond-san,” Nakayama said. “It was originally owned by a samurai who had been in service to the emperor.”

  Bond unsheathed the blade and noted the temper line pattern on the border of the cutting edge.

  “It was made by Masamune, the greatest Japanese swordsmith,” Nakayama said, interpreting the symbols etched on the tang, which was hidden inside the grip.

  “I am deeply honoured,” Bond said. “Domo arigato.” He bowed again.

  “You are welcome.”

  Bond placed the sword on the table near the large picture window that looked out on the city of Tokyo. The sun had become a blazing red sliver that was quickly dipping behind the cityscape.

  “So tell me, Yoshi, what has happened? I’ve been looking at spreadsheets with Mayumi today, as promised, and I haven’t been able to watch the news.” Mayumi put her hand to her lips to stifle a giggle.

  “There has been a flurry of activity with regard to CureLab and Yonai Enterprises. The whole plot has been exposed. Masuzo Kano, the chairman and president of Yonai Enterprises, committed suicide by jumping out of a twenty-seventh floor window. The merger is declared void.”

  “As we had guessed.” Bond looked at Mayumi. “This means that you’re a very wealthy lady, Mayumi.”

  She shook her head in disbelief.

  Nakayama handed Bond a packet of papers. “These are copies of documents that we found in a hidden safe in McMahon-san’s office at CureLab. Not too much that is very interesting, I’m afraid, but we also found an envelope addressed to Mayumi-san, to be delivered in case of her father’s death. I give it to you now.” He handed it to her and she held it in her hands as if it were something dreadful. Her name was written in her father’s script in both English and Japanese.

  “Do you want to open it?” Bond asked.

  “Not yet,” she said, a little shaken.

  Bond turned back to Nakayama. “What about the Ryujin-kai? Their boss, the oyabun—Tsukamoto. What of him?”

  “He has disappeared. No one knows where he is, but there is a warrant out for his arrest. A team is also still going through the destroyed bunkers on Etorofu in an attempt to locate Goro Yoshida’s body. We are afraid that he may have left the island before the raid.”

  “So he’s probably still out there somewhere,” Bond said. “That’s not a very comforting thought.”

  “It’s one of the reasons why I am here. We need to provide you with twenty-four hour protection until you leave the country.”

  “Thank you, Nakayama-san,” Bond said, “but I have never needed ‘protection.’ I can take care of myself.”

  “Famous last words,” Mayumi said.

  “Nevertheless, Bond-san,” Nakayama said, “we will have a man posted outside your room.” On his way out, Nakayama introduced Bond to the guard that sat in a chair in the corridor, then he shook hands, bowed, and said goodbye.

  When Bond came back to the room, he found Mayumi lost in thought with the envelope in her hand.

  “This has been a very strange few days,” she said. Her eyes welled up. “The only good thing about them was meeting you.”

  “You’ve left one line of business and must now run another. That’s much more important,” Bond replied.

  She shook her head sadly. “How do you know I won’t go back to a life on the dark side? I can’t see myself running the company. I never asked for this. I keep thinking about my poor sisters. Kyoko had spent her whole short life preparing to take over the business. All I can do is wish I was not my father’s daughter.” A few tears ran down her smooth, beautiful face.

  “What is it that happened between you and your father that caused you to hate him so?”

  “He deceived the family. He was one of them, James-san, he was part of the Ryujin-kai.”

  Bond blinked. “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s true. He did business with Yasutake Tsukamoto. When Tsukamoto-san said that there was someone besides my great uncle who provided the Ryujin-kai with what they wanted, he was talking about my father. I saw him once … at the soaplands where my boyfriend worked in Tokyo. I was hanging round there with my friends.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “He was Tsukamoto’s guest. The two of them came one night. Tsukamoto apparently didn’t know that I was there. He brought my father and we saw each other. Needless to say, we were both shocked beyond words. From that moment on, he could never look me in the eye. He knew that I saw through him. So I ran away from home.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I went to Sapporo, got in deeper with the yakuza. I heard through various sources that he continued to work with the Ryujin-kai. He did things for them.”

  “Provided them with trade secrets?”

  “Yes. Now … now I think I was doing all that to spite him. To throw it all back into his face.”

  “Mayumi, you should have told me this earlier.”

  She held her hand over her face. Bond pitied her, knowing full well how much pain she was in. But perhaps this pain was necessary.

  “Why don’t you open the envelope?” he suggested quietly.

  Mayumi sniffed and nodded. She tore it open and pulled out a single page covered in her father’s handwriting. Mayumi read it silently, and then handed it to Bond. The letterhead bore the name “Peter McMahon” and the handwriting was neat and legible.

  Darling Mayumi

  I know that you believe I let you down. I want you to know that my involvement with the yakuza was an inheritance from your grandfather, who had been doing business with them ever since Fujimoto Lab Inc. was founded. I was in the process of trying to break relations with them when the disastrous incident at the s
oaplands occurred. For that I am truly sorry. It is the greatest regret of my life. After you left home, the only way I could keep track of you and make sure that you were safe was by continuing to co-operate with them. They told me that you were working for the Ryujin-kai in Sapporo and that you would remain safe and would be taken care of as long as I helped them with what they wanted. I didn’t feel I had a choice. Please understand that your parents both love you very much. I only wish I could have held you in my arms, my darling daughter, and told you all of this myself. Your poor mother knows nothing of this.

  It was signed, simply, “Dad.”

  Mayumi looked lost and bewildered.

  Bond handed the note back to her. “Your father provided those trade secrets because it was the only way he could receive news of your well being. Don’t you see? That’s exactly the way the yakuza works. They gave assurances to your father that you were safe, working in Sapporo, and as long as he helped them, then you would continue to be safe. Mayumi, he did it to protect you.”

  Mayumi’s lip quivered a moment, and then the tears flowed freely.

  “I’m sorry,” she managed to say.

  Bond sighed and then held her close. She clung to his chest. “I don’t know what to do, James-san. I don’t know whether to grieve or to be happy.”

  “Hush,” he said. “You are free to do anything you want. You can sell your shares for billions of yen.”

  She sniffed and was quiet for a while.

  “You have a way of making me feel better,” she said. “Are you sure that you have to leave tomorrow?”

  “I’m afraid so. How shall we spend the time?”

  “In bed. Come on.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  THE FINAL ACTION

  THEY HAD MADE LOVE INTO THE NIGHT. MAYUMI FINALLY DECLARED THAT she wanted to relax with a bath, and invited Bond to join her. He thought it sounded like a terrific idea but suggested that he fetch a bottle of sake to enjoy while they soaked. She began to sing the traditional Japanese folk song Sakura as she went off to the bathroom to fill the tub and light a few scented candles in order to create a more romantic atmosphere while Bond put on a yukata.