This statement caused an extended silence, which lasted until the youngest member of the group spoke. “Where are we going, and can I take Oliver?” Kou asked.
“You can take your cat, and in fact he’s waiting in a cage for you downstairs.” Ward smiled at the teenager’s reaction and added, “I’ll take you to see him in a few minutes.”
“Where are we going?” asked Miki.
“We won’t tell you your destination until you are all safely in the air. This is a precaution to limit the risk of leaks and preserve your safety, but in the spirit of transparency let me share this fact. We haven’t confirmed your destination and are at this moment negotiating with some American military base commanders to allow you to become residents and part of their base community. It involves changing your identities and adopting new lifestyles,” said Ward.
“Is it part of the witness protection program?” asked David.
“The protocol is similar, but your situation falls under a different category and will be paid for by my organization’s budget, and please don’t ask questions about my employer,” said Ward.
“Will we be going somewhere near a major city where I’ll be able to continue my career?” asked Miki.
“You’ll be sent to an isolated location for at least the first two years to allow us to appraise the risks involved should you resurface. We’re doing this to help keep you and your family safe,” said Ward.
Miki pushed herself away from the table and rushed out of the room.
“Excuse me,” said Gregg and followed her out.
“You two enjoy some breakfast,” Ward said to David and Junko, “while Kou and I go check out Oliver.”
***
Miki’s Room
Miki was washing away tears at the sink when Gregg entered her room and sat on her bed. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“My parents live in Japan, and Kou’s school is in Japan, and my career depends on my proximity to clients in Tokyo. I don’t want to leave Japan and live at some godforsaken place in the United States,” said Miki.
“We’re in terrible danger here,” replied Gregg.
“I’m not stupid. Of course we’re at risk if we stay in Japan. You and David decided to be big-time espionage agents and take on the meanest crime organization in the world. Kou was almost raped and may never trust men throughout her entire life. You are a killer now, and you aren’t the same man I married. I’ve studied and gone without sleep preparing for every job and created a reputation as an excellent interpreter with a full schedule working for triple-A clients. You’ve destroyed our lives, and I don’t have to like it. Please get out of my room.”
Gregg knew better to say anything or to try to touch Miki. She was right. Their situation sucked, and he was quickly becoming a man with nothing more to lose.
Chapter 47
Tokyo News Report
“Reports and information received through interviews with the Kanagawa prefectural police commission have not cleared up questions about the recent crash and the subsequent explosion of a stolen Enoes petroleum container truck in the Yokohama’s Naka Ward. The container truck was taken while servicing an Enoes station in Kawasaki.
Witnesses interviewed, video feeds, and evidence found at the accident site are not useful to the identification of the perpetrator. Photos taken at toll gates on the Shuto Expressway record one individual wearing a cap and sunglasses, leading experts to believe the man was not Japanese but of foreign origin.
Minoru Sato, the estate’s owner and a man reportedly closely linked to the Inuzawa crime syndicate, was not present at the estate when the truck exploded and burned it to the ground. He was fortunate, since the explosion was the worst experience in Japan since the Second World War. The resulting explosion lit up the skies of Kanagawa. The heat and flash were significant enough to alarm foreign governments to possible missile launches or nuclear meltdowns. (The Japanese prime minister’s office received several calls, including inquiries from the Russian president, questioning the cause of the explosion.)
The reasoning behind the selection of the Hakushika Estate as a terrorist target is perplexing authorities. There is historical precedence for yakuza clan-related violence associated with territorial disputes. Clear evidence of mob warfare has not turned up, nor has any faction taken credit for the attack. Five bodies were recovered from the estate’s burned-out ruin, and thirteen men working at the estate are hospitalized, while several people from the neighborhood around the estate suffered from inhalation of toxic gas from the fire. Whether a terrorist attack or a criminal gang war, the perpetrators must be brought to justice, and preventive measures are required to stop future acts of violence.
The Kanagawa Police media relations department will not confirm nor deny a connection between the Hakushika disaster and the gun violence demonstrated on the same day at a soapland facility in Miura. Suspects have not been detained or even identified by law enforcement authorities. We have confirmed the usage of automatic weapons and explosives at the yakuza-connected business and verified the resulting murders of fourteen staff members and the injury of at least a dozen customers. Japan was once a country proud of its peaceful community and our well-enforced gun control laws. Today we question whether it remains safe to walk our city streets.”
Chapter 48
Meguro
The safe house garage door opened and a large black SUV pulled out to the road to turn west and suddenly stopped. Gregg Westwood opened the back door and ran into the safe house. He wore jeans, a leather jacket, and sunglasses. He returned minutes later with the addition of a black baseball hat and jumped into the back of the SUV. It sped down the street and halted at the first traffic signal. As the light turned green, a Lexus GX 460 SUV sped from a parking lot kitty-corner and smashed head on into the black SUV.
In seconds, a female riding a motorcycle pulled behind the SUV and opened up with a submachine gun. The driver and passenger in the Lexus left their vehicle to pump round after round into the SUV’s windows, which held fast. All three of the assassins discharged their magazines and were in the midst of reloading when Ward and Brown fired handguns from the SUV and both the gunmen from the Lexus dropped with head wounds.
The female assassin looked at them in shock and started to move toward her bike when the Skipper passed her traveling on a Honda Africa Twin motorcycle at 60 kph with Levy riding shotgun. The former special forces soldier fired a flexible baton round, or what is known as a bean bag round, into her chest. The female assassin dropped unconscious to the pavement and was soon scooped up by Levy and Brown, immobilized with zip ties, and dropped into the back of the SUV. The driver hit the gas, allowing the SUV to back up, and pulled a power U-turn to speed off in the opposite direction.
“They’ll be pleased to spend quality time with this young lady at Gitmo. There’s going to be plenty to talk about,” said Ward.
“Loose lips,” said Ward.
“Sink ships,” finished Brown.
“I think Keiko Tanaka will have the last laugh. We’ve got her killer wrapped up in the back seat,” said Ward.
“The Hamura Station footage and the bitch’s little victory dance performed for the security cameras at the McDonald’s restaurant lobby will be sent along with this nasty lady,” said Brown.
“Motivators,” said Ward. He squinted his eyes and looked at his boss with exaggerated interest.
“What?” asked Brown.
“You’re are the spitting image of Gregg Westwood when you wear the black hat and jacket,” replied Ward.
“Get a life,” replied Brown.
***
Yokota Air Base
The white Land Rover with tinted windows passed the main gates before circling around the outskirts of the base’s security fence to finally reach the east side. They passed several photographers on ladders taking shots from outside the base’s fence, and Gregg observed them and wondered why the obvious security risk was tolerated. The SUV drove past the common access road to
the east side gate and proceeded along the public highway for another kilometer until it pulled into a gate used for deliveries of containers by a freight train.
Two guards pulled the gate open as the SUV approached and closed it quickly after the Land Rover drove past them and bumped over train tracks. The car left the main road and drove onto the flight line toward a C-130 cargo plane, positioned and readied for departure on the runway. The Land Rover pulled up about ten yards from the plane’s mobile staircase and six individuals wearing air force BDUs exited the SUV. Ward, Gregg, Miki, Kou, David, and the veterinarian exchanged good-byes and handshakes, and Ward watched the five travelers climb the stairs to board the cargo plane.
Once the group were seated and fastened into their seats, the plane rolled down the runway and with little delay took off. The passengers remained quiet as they watched the country they loved disappear as the Hercules transport plane rose into the clouds. No one talked nor even looked at each other, as all seemed to prefer to remain cocooned in their own thoughts. They’d been given earplugs to protect against the unrestricted noise inherent to military cargo planes, and the passenger seats were lined against the wall, making communication difficult during flight. It wasn’t an issue, as no one demonstrated an inclination for conversation.
Chapter 49
Yokota Air Base Officers’ Club Shogun Lounge
It was a Friday evening, and the Officers’ Club bar was full. Sales were strong early in the school year when teachers employed by the Department of Defense joined the military crowd to celebrate the end of a workweek. Steve Brown and Jeff Ward stood close together at the bar’s coaches’ corner. Both intelligence officers were drinking I.W. Harper bourbon on the rocks. “Let’s toast to a positive end to this shitty mess,” said Brown, and they touched glasses and drank deeply. Ward waived to the Japanese bartender and gestured for a second round.
“Has Marron kept in touch?” asked Brown.
“He called my cell phone about five minutes after the C-130 left with the payload. His ankle is getting better, and he will contact us as soon as he is physically capable of getting back into the game,” replied Ward.
The drinks arrived, and Steve Brown waited for the bartender to return to work before he commented. “Nice. I assume things went smoothly once the group landed?” asked Ward.
“Everything is fine so far,” replied Brown.
“What’s next for Gregg Westwood?” asked Ward.
“He’ll be doing a lot of training in Alaska. Visits to the rifle range, workouts in the dojo, the weight room, and survival and outdoor skill development will be his full-time job. His worth in Asia is negligible with a yakuza price on his head,” said Brown.
“True, we’ll have to deploy him carefully. What have you heard about the interrogations of the North Korean captive?” asked Ward.
“They haven’t shared a lot of data. I think she’s a tough bird and it’s going to take some time,” said Brown.
“Need-to-know basis?” asked Ward.
“That too,” said Brown.
“I’m proud of our office. Not one word was leaked about the incidents in Chiba and Meguro. The gunplay in Miura and at the Hakushika was never tied to us,” said Ward.
“They also did a nice job spinning the attack on our SUV as a yakuza territorial battle,” said Brown.
“Our local representative of the DEA has become quite the hero. I hear he was injured in a shootout with enforcers from a Mexican cartel while on the scene when the second half of the fentanyl shipment arrived in Seattle,” said Ward.
“True story. He was part of the fiasco in West Seattle and caught a rifle round in the back of his vest. He is recovering from a badly bruised kidney and several cracked ribs. Special Agent Veazey got lucky. The cartel specialists don’t normally walk away and leave an enemy alive to fight another day.”
“That’s my understanding. The bad actors missed Veazey, but they got their pound of flesh. The Seattle Police Department lost more men in one day than any law enforcement agency since the September 11 attacks,” said Ward.
“The cops didn’t take too many prisoners,” said Brown.
“The Seattle Police didn’t make many arrests. The American Constitution is more than an argument over semantics, but I get your point. The cops weren’t expecting the suspects to come at them with grenade launchers, flamethrowers, and killer drones,” replied Ward.
“They did arrest a guy the police found hanging by his hands in a warehouse,” said Brown.
“One of the few left alive,” replied Ward.
Both men looked each other in the eyes and glanced around the room for a few moments. Ward touched his breast pocket where he kept a prayer card.
“My routine is returning to normal and I’m enjoying the embassy cocktail party circuit. The FBI owes us a few favors as well. The removal of Leo Morello and Nic Fabbro significantly cut the workload at their New York office and they received any and all credit for cutting the Mafia out of possibly the largest financial drug deal of all time,” said Brown.
“It was a busy month. What do you think about deploying Gregg again when we want to piss off some country and start a war?” suggested Ward while raising his glass.
“Amen. He tends to pick fights with ten-thousand-pound gorillas,” said Brown.
Epilogue
Eielson Air Force Base, Alaska
Gregg Westwood walked into the air force base’s veterinary clinic at Eielson, Alaska. David was sitting behind the reception counter wearing a bright green scrub top with the vet clinic’s logo. His current focus was on the task of feeding formula to a little kitten with an eye dropper. “Hey there, just feeding this poor little thing. Her mother had four other kittens and offered her teats to them without an issue, but she rejected this little angel.”
“Are you and the good doctor free on the weekend? We’re going to barbecue the twenty-pound salmon I caught yesterday,” said Gregg.
“You were ice fishing? I’ll talk to Junko, but I’m pretty positive we’ll be able to break away. We don’t like to miss your barbecues, and it’s getting easier around here. The new veterinarian is settling in well, and Junko has cut down her work schedule to six-day weeks. We’re still understaffed and the pet kennel is at full capacity. Just listen to the cacophony back there, as it speaks for itself. Excuse me,” said David. He took his tiny patient into the clinic’s back room.
It wasn’t long before Dr. Junko came running out and threw her arms around Gregg. “We’ll come to your barbecue. What would you like us to bring Miki and Kou?” she asked. Before Gregg could answer her, Junko was interrupted by a volunteer looking anxious.
“The shepherd regurgitated his breakfast. It’s not good,” said the assistant.
“David and I spend too much time at work,” said Junko. She threw up her hands and ran back to her clinic as David returned with a white Labrador on a leash. “I’ve got to take Teddy here for a walk and will use the opportunity to see you out the door,” he said.
“Did you hear about Kou?” Gregg asked.
David walked around the counter with the dog. “Did she get the solo part for the Christmas concert?” he asked.
Gregg held up his chin and stuck out his chest in an exaggerated display of pride. “As a matter of fact, she did. Things are getting better for her, and she’s been invited to several birthday parties. Kou is settling into the American middle school quite well,” he said.
David listened thoughtfully and asked, “Does she still have nightmares?”
Gregg nodded. “They are less frequent, and the work with the therapist is helping her gain confidence.”
“Good, and does the brass continue to overwork your beautiful wife?” David asked.
“That’s not an issue. Miki loves to interpret for the conference calls, and they are starting to throw a ton of translation assignments at her. The written work’s not her favorite, but she likes the challenge,” said Gregg.
“Miki called this morning and aske
d me to give you these vitamins for Oliver. Is he adjusting well to Alaska?” asked David.
Gregg motioned with his hand to indicate neither good nor bad. “There’s no way we’ll let Oliver ever go outside with the wolves and bald eagles around here. He gets his vitamin D from the sunlight on the window ledge,” he said.
“The boys in Virginia were generous with the cash, and none of us have to work long and hard. We could retire and fish for salmon,” said David.
Gregg put his hands together as if in prayer. “Do you think our Japanese wives will ever learn to take it easy?” he said.
“Are you and Miki all right?” asked David.
“Not really. It hasn’t been right since I went to Bangkok. We all find these short days with so little light disturbing, but it’s a beautiful country. I enjoy coaching kids at the youth sports center, and we have great expectations for our five- and six-year-olds’ basketball team. It’s a group destined for the championships,” replied Gregg.
David gripped Gregg’s arm and he cringed. “I’m sorry, still sensitive? How do you handle the hours at the rifle range?” asked David.
Gregg smiled at his best friend through gritted teeth. “It’s all right, I’ll have to live with it,” he said.
David moved out the door with the dog followed by Gregg, and they gave each other a friendly hug before departing in opposite directions. It was only three in the afternoon and the streets were already dark, requiring streetlights to assist the way home. A gentle wind blew powdered snow across the road ahead, and Gregg pulled his hood up and put his gloved hands in his pockets.
He walked to the condominium provided by base housing and considered his predicament. His family missed relatives and almost everything else left behind in Japan. Gregg listened to the snow crunch under his feet and took time to enjoy the cold. He started walking up to his driveway expecting to enter his home to find Miki working at her desk in preparation for some conference.
The Courier Page 23