A gunshot was heard in the distance. Hendrick wondered at its origin and thought it strange that Konaka’s men would be having target practice on a foggy night.
He followed the southern coast, heading toward a large building at the base of the hill that formed most of the island. As he drew closer he saw the blood red Japanese characters that he had first seen five years ago. What was the significance of the word truth written in blood?
He noted that a fence with barbed wire circled the building. Guards were posted at each entrance into the compound, but he could easily see that there were long stretches of badly illuminated fence between the guard shacks. Hendrick examined the fence for a blind spot. He wondered what Konaka had in the building that he had to guard day and night.
They raced through the night, stumbling on loose rocks, their legs lashed by the branches of the undergrowth that grew on the island. They ran until they were gasping in the humid air. The excited voices of their pursuers faded as they lost track of the desperate group in the dark. A dim light appeared in the distance.
“The cove,” said Malik breathlessly. They approached cautiously, swinging up the slope to get a good view of the area before trying to steal one of the small boats tied to the pier. Maggie could see the bow of a medium sized freighter at anchor in the mouth of the cove, and floating alone was a small seaplane, a dim light illuminating the underside of the starboard wing. She looked the pier over and the assortment of small boats tied to it. Two guards stood at opposite ends of the pier unmoving.
“Japanese,” said Loh.
“What are Japanese doing on an island controlled by Red China?” asked Maggie.
“Konaka’s base,” said Malik. “I’d lay odds on it.”
“Base for what?” asked Maggie. Malik shrugged.
Loh and Wong launched into Chinese with Maggie following most of it. She marveled at the courageousness of their plan to steal a boat. Loh translated. Their plan basically came down to distracting the guards then swimming up to one of the boats and stealing it.
“Oh man,” muttered Malik and gave a skeptical look.
Loh studied him for a moment then asked, “Any better ideas?”
Malik shook his head in frustration.
Loh turned to Wong. “Go,” he said.
Wong stood and walked casually down the slope toward the pier. He quickly drew the attention of the guards who both walked over to confront the stranger. Loh waved Maggie and Malik forward, and they quickly descended the slope to the edge of the water well away from the pier. They silently entered the water, depriving Maggie of what little warmth she had built up in her still wet clothes.
Loh swam strongly with Maggie and Malik in his wake, the light from the single bulb on a pole at the end of the pier casting a yellow glow over the water. Loh swam straight for the nearest boat and climbed immediately aboard with his handgun drawn. Maggie followed a few feet behind, Malik glancing anxiously behind them for any sign that the guards had detected them. Loh went to the starboard side and looked down the pier with Maggie peering over his shoulder. Wong was nowhere to be seen, and there was only one guard in view. Had Wong taken out the other guard? Maggie asked herself.
Maggie heard Malik gasp along with quick movement behind her. She whirled about, her hand reaching inside her jacket for the gun she had jammed there seemingly ages ago. A bright light went on, blinding her. She knew it was too late.
Hendrick ran along in a crouch straight at the midpoint in the fence between two guard shacks. He huddled next to the fence, listening for any signs that he had tripped an alarm. The night was silent, the lights at opposite ends of the building softened into a blur by the increasing fog. Close examination of the fence gave no indication that it was electrified. There were no isolators between the fence wire and the supporting poles, and scrub grass had grown up into the fence itself. He looked for motion detectors but found none.
Hendrick pulled up the bottom of the fence and shimmied under it. He was up in a flash and ran the twenty feet to the side of the building. A window was nearby, and Hendrick forced it open with the slightest of squeaks. In seconds he was inside.
The interior of the building was dimly lit, revealing row after row of wooden and metal boxes. He slid along the rows, getting near enough to an overhead light to read what was on the side of the boxes. Many were in either Chinese or Japanese, but some were in English.
His jaw went slack as he read what was on the box. M16A2 / M203 Colt, USA. M16s, he thought, with a 40 mm grenade launcher attached to it. Other boxes contained grenades, shotguns, ammunition, even flamethrowers. He read on with increasing amazement until one box puzzled him. It read, SMAW - 83 mm and HEDP / HEAA. He forced the box open after several minutes of concerted effort.
The box contained tubular weapons that looked like the World War II bazookas seen in old war movies. Another row of boxes held satchel charges containing C4, the powerful explosive, hundreds of them with electronic timers. Hendrick looked around him at the thousands of boxes in the warehouse. Enough weaponry was in view to start a war, and not a small one at that.
This is Konaka’s ammo dump, he thought with amazement. This is the organization which stole my diamonds, has vowed to kill me and my friends, and has already killed my brother. He felt excitement at his imminent revenge.
He picked up several satchel charges and distributed them around the warehouse, placing them in with grenades, rockets and other satchel charges, setting their timers to detonate in two hours. He slung an M16 over his shoulder along with grenades and a bag of clips, and grabbed a SMAW with two rockets. Hendrick hung four satchel charges to his scuba harness and wiggled his way out the window he had entered.
The exit through the fence proved to be no problem. He was free, walking through the fog wondering where else he could set charges. There were fog-diffused lights in the distance as he walked to the northeast. He approached the lights slowly, on guard for any sentries.
More buildings came into view, and Hendrick concluded that these four buildings were the barracks for Konaka’s soldiers. There were no fences around these buildings and only one guardhouse in front of the complex. Two roving security teams of three guards each marched around the buildings with only five minutes between teams. Approaching the outside walls of the buildings wouldn’t be a problem, but staying there long enough to set charges would be.
Hendrick decided to take a different approach and looked for the exits to the buildings and the paths the soldiers would take as they left when responding to an emergency. He knew they would have an emergency to respond to in less than two hours. The pathways were easy to see; they were raised wooden walks extending from double doors in the front of each of the buildings. The walkways ran in various directions away from the barracks, one to a fog-shrouded motor pool, another to what looked like a surface to air missile launcher covered with canvas.
He flipped one of the satchel charges over and examined the detonator. Along with a timer, it also had a trip wire, which unrolled from a spool in the interior of the device.
An hour later, he was finished with his booby traps, one near enough to the motor pool so that when tripped, it would detonate full gasoline drums nearby. A second would ignite the missiles for the SAM launcher, and the other two were on delayed trip along the pathways to take out not the first wave of responding soldiers, but the second.
Hendrick looked over the quiet scene then pushed the light button on his watch. Less than an hour to go. He hefted the M16 and the SMAW.
Now let’s find Konaka, he thought grimly, revenge filling his mind.
“Well, we meet again,” said a deep resonant voice in English.
Maggie, Malik, Loh, and Wong looked up from their position on their knees. They had been dragged back up the eastern hill of the island to one of the buildings above the lighthouse. They could hear a diesel generator exhaust throbbing in the distance. The windows of the building were periodically lit up by the rotating beam from the lighthouse. The r
ooms in the building were spartan, seemingly in concert with Konaka’s austerity. They were being held in the security office. Maggie had read the Japanese characters on the door when they were brought in. A few desks, a bulletin board, a weapons’ cabinet and that was all.
“Konaka,” muttered Maggie with disgust.
“Yes, my dear Miss Ramsey,” replied Konaka with satisfaction. He looked at Wong with a wrinkled brow, the only visible expression above the silk scarf covering his face. Konaka’s voice seemed to emanate from behind the scarf without the slightest movement by him. “This man is a mystery. I do not know who he is, but I suspect that he is not important.”
He turned to Loh. “And here we have Loh Yi-Song, presently retired, but when he was working, he was quite an important man in the Taiwanese government. Did he tell you he was head of the Japanese section of Taiwanese foreign intelligence?”
Surprise swept over Maggie. She glanced at Loh who wasn’t denying Konaka’s statement. Wong, on Maggie’s other side, stared at the floor.
“No?” continued Konaka. “Now that we know all about Loh, let’s turn to this skinny, little bastard. You’re name is Joe Malik. And you’re basically Hendrick’s slave.”
Malik rolled his eyes in disgust.
“Now, why not find out about Miss Ramsey?” Konaka’s tone abruptly changed from being sickeningly condescending to brutally menacing. “Just who are you working for?”
Konaka’s voice sent a chill through her, deepening the dread she already felt. Barring a miracle, I won’t make it out of this, she thought with panic.
A radio crackled. Maggie heard that a patrol was chasing an intruder.
“Another one?” asked Konaka to one of his men. The man nodded, but Konaka seemed unperturbed, turning his attention back to his prisoners.
“On second thought, I do not really care who you are working for,” said Konaka in a thoughtful tone. “People who intrude into my affairs invariably wind up dead. And I see no reason to delay the inevitable.” He turned to his guards, speaking in English for the benefit of the prisoners. “Take them outside, and kill them all.”
Maggie gasped in despair. The prospect of imminent death sent panic through her. There’s no escape, she thought grimly.
Suddenly an explosion shook the building. The structure creaked and swayed but stayed whole. The overpressure blew bits of dust and grass through the open door. She crouched down, involuntarily giving voice to a half-formed thought.
“Hendrick!” she said.
Konaka shouted orders, and a few of the men guarding Maggie and the others ran out to find out what had happened. One came back seconds later and told Konaka that a building had been destroyed. Maggie could see flames reflected off the glass-covered bulletin board. Konaka straightened and composed himself.
“If it is Hendrick, then he won’t have long to live,” said Konaka.
The flames from the building lit up the hillside, allowing Hendrick to see Konaka’s men stream from the second building. He quickly loaded another grenade into the launcher attached to his M16 and aimed it at the other building. His gaze was drawn to an open door. He shifted his aim, planning to fire the grenade through it. There were people in the office beyond. He suddenly recognized them with a start.
It was Maggie, Joe, Loh, and Wong! He gaped in shock at the sight of them in Konaka’s hands. The Japanese terrorist had captured them somehow. Now he had a new problem - how to free them from Konaka’s men.
He heard voices behind him. Time to go. Hendrick slipped the SMAW into a crack between the rocks to lighten his load, intending to come back for it later. He crawled to his right as the fire died down and the fog swirled in once again reducing his visibility to a few feet. The incline grew rapidly steeper until he lost his traction on the loose stones and began to slip. His speed increased quickly until he fell out of control over a small cliff landing on his side and losing his M16 and the bag of grenades in the dark. He groped about until a light went on blinding him.
Shouts in Japanese came from behind the light issuing gruff orders. Hendrick stayed still, his heart pounding, afraid to give them an excuse to open fire on him. Three men came up to him and began to beat him with the stocks of their rifles.
Konaka’s guards dropped Hendrick on the floor near Maggie and the others.
“Hendrick!” Maggie said simultaneously in relief and in desperation.
Hendrick gave her a wry, lopsided grin through swollen lips. “I slipped.” He looked at the glowering men around them. “It didn’t take them long to grab me.”
“Are you all right?” she asked as she looked over the lumps on his face.
“Yeah, but not for long,” he replied.
“How did you escape Konaka’s boat? Why aren’t you dead?” asked Maggie.
“I grabbed some scuba gear and held onto a line from Konaka’s liferaft. He sailed it right into the cove without knowing I was under it,” said Hendrick.
Konaka entered the room in a rush and stood looking at his five prisoners. His expression ran from surprise to amusement. Hendrick got the feeling that he and his companions were considered playthings by Konaka.
“You seemed to have cheated death, haven’t you?” said Konaka. “We will change that soon.”
Konaka still had his customary silk scarf over his face, and Hendrick squinted at Konaka to make out his features.
Konaka eyed Hendrick, the lines around his eyes stretching tight. His gaze went to the oblong shape near Hendrick’s waist. Curious, he ordered one of his men remove the short metal cylinder from Hendrick’s belt bag. Hendrick stared at the cylinder as Konaka looked it over. He could just make out the Russian words embossed on the metal tube, which stated that this was a diplomatic message from the Soviet Union to the government of Japan. The Soviets had been allied with the United States and Britain against Germany. But Japan had been allied with Germany. What could the Soviet Union have had to say to the Japanese in April of 1945? And why put it in a metal tube?
Konaka brought it close to his face to study it, rubbing some of the mud off the cylinder. Hendrick saw that there was a screw-on cap on one end. The edge of the cap was melted, smearing the cap and the side of the cylinder together. Konaka scratched some corrosion away from the indentations in the melted metal, and a pattern in the metal suddenly became clear. Someone had made a hammer and sickle in the molten metal using a form, just as letters were sealed years ago with a unique pattern pressed into soft sealing wax to show the letter’s origin. If the sealing wax was unbroken, then the recipient of the letter knew no one else had read it. This pattern of the hammer and sickle, the symbols of the Soviet Union, was just such a seal. If anyone tried to unscrew the cap, the seal would inevitably break, and the Japanese, as recipients of this message, would know that someone had intercepted and had already read the message.
“From the Awa Maru, I presume,” mused Konaka.
Hendrick decided to start talking to stall his eventual execution. “You have a pretty big operation here, Konaka. So what are you up to? Some sort of terrorism?”
Konaka slowly tore his eyes from the cylinder and looked at Hendrick with pure malice. “The world will discover my purpose soon enough.”
“Why go after Hendrick’s diamonds?” asked Maggie.
Konaka’s eyes shifted to her. “Funding,” he said simply.
“That’s why you wanted to steal the treasure from me,” said Hendrick.
“I did steal the treasure from you,” mumbled Konaka, his attention again taken by the metal tube in his hands.
“Wrong. Chang got it, then the Chinese took it from him,” replied Hendrick.
Konaka gave him an amused glance. “And I took it from the Chinese.”
Hendrick winced at the thought of his hard-fought-over gold going into the hands of a maniac. “You need it to finance this operation. When the Chinese find out you’re here, they’ll make short work of you and this pitiful island.”
“The Chinese have been taken care of,”
said Konaka, dismissing Hendrick’s remarks.
“Enough bribes in the right places,” said Maggie.
Konaka glanced at her, confirming her statement. He issued a short order to one of his men and gave him the cylinder. The man went away returning soon with a pipewrench. He proceeded to carefully unscrew the cap off the cylinder, breaking the watertight weld, then cautiously reached inside and removed two pieces of paper in remarkably good condition. He handed them to Konaka without looking at them.
Konaka studied them, dropping one paper to the floor. Hendrick bent over to read what looked to be a letter in Russian.
Hendrick gasped with surprise at the letter’s contents. “It’s signed by Josef Stalin.”
“That’s nice, Steve, but this was written over sixty years ago,” muttered Malik. “Who cares what’s in it but historians?”
Hendrick looked quickly at Konaka’s granite-like eyes, which were modulated by the letter’s unexpected contents. Konaka looked up and called one of his men, Ken-Ichi Murata. Konaka handed him the letter, which he could see was in Japanese. The man read it, his eyes bulging and his mouth flopping open in amazement.
Murata had a rapid-fire conversation with his leader. Hendrick studied Maggie’s face as she listened intently to their conversation. He knew she was translating it in her mind. They could clearly see that the letter electrified both Konaka and Murata.
“What is it?” he asked in a low voice.
“Apparently it’s a letter to the government of Japan with some sort of offer from the Soviet Union,” she replied.
Hendrick nodded quickly. He had gotten the gist of the message from glancing at the letter still lying in front of him.
“Something called Hidden Sun,” said Maggie in a whisper. “Murata is employed by the government and knows of a project called Hidden Sun.”
Hidden Sun Page 32