The Shadow's Code

by Miles Goodson

  “Do you think the president will want to be involved in this?” James said, looking out of the window as the sped through traffic lights.

  “Yeah, I think he will want to see us in person, but we will have to go to him,” Roger said, frowning.

  The car slowed and turned into the military compound. The police stopped outside where they remained. The officers were under strict orders from their captain that the town car be under police escort at all times on the road and so they were to wait for it to re-emerge from the military base. James practically leapt from his seat, usually he was calm and calculating in everything he did but he couldn’t contain his mix of apprehension and excitement about the upcoming manhunt. Roger walked into Bill’s office first.

  “Hi Bill,” he said.

  Bill hesitated in his response, still glued to the documents he had been studying in intricate detail for the past twenty minutes. “Hi,” he said quietly. Warren stood to shake hands with both Roger and James. All four men were now huddled around Bill’s desk. Bill looked up from the documents he was reading.

  “I think we ought to move into a conference room.”

  He got up from his seat and folded up the brief. He clutched it like the wide receiver of a football game, running for a winning touchdown in the last second. All four men walked in silence for the twenty steps to the conference room.

  “OK so… let’s talk,” Bill said. James quickly stood up from the chair he had just sat in.

  “Let’s cut straight to it, Bill, the deaths of the professor, Julie and the SEAL. We’ve got some fairly good evidence showing foul play in all their deaths as you can see from the document I sent you. More than that I think we have a suspect. But I have to stress at this early stage that we THINK we have a suspect.” Warren was clueless about the day’s discoveries.

  “Yeah I’ve made a few copies, Warren pass these around,” Bill said.

  It was a photo of a Japanese man, he looked at least fifty, possibly older with thinning grey hair swept back into a short ponytail.

  “So James, why don’t you tell us all what we’re looking at?” Bill said, leaning back in his seat. James cleared his throat.

  “You’re looking at Kioshi Kamitoze. As identified by facial recognition software. It is believed that he is the one who is behind our three mystery deaths. We believe he’s undertaking these attacks alone. He worked as a janitor at MIT until recently he didn’t show for work. He was last seen the day the professor died. I checked with his manager at the cleaning company and he said that Kioshi had worked there for three months under the name Kevin Chen. He told them he was planning to move to the west coast a week before he disappeared. I checked the social security number and his references. They’re all phoney. The cleaning company doesn’t do checks on work history so they didn’t pick up on it.”

  “So what makes you so sure this guy has anything to do with the killings? Maybe he’s an illegal worker or he’s hiding from the police for a misdemeanor in another state?” Roger asked with an air of doubt that the old man in the pictures was anything other than a nobody. James had held back the best part.

  “We also know that a man fitting this description flew to the country the day before the SEAL was killed in and Julie had a gardener that always came by on a Tuesday named Sam. However Sam didn’t show up the week before the killing. He was ill. So the company sent a temp, we’ve got a picture of the guy on a neighbor’s surveillance camera. The picture is grainy but our system shows it as a match to the picture of Kioshi.”

  James held back the last bit of information, waiting for his next challenge; he enjoyed being the man with all the answers. It didn’t take long for the question he was waiting for.

  “OK, but that doesn’t exactly make him an assassin. He was a cleaner that took a gardening job, he travelled abroad and by chance the timeline fits the SEAL’s death. I mean yeah maybe it’s him; but we need something more concrete than a theory tagged along to a coincidental time line,” Bill said.

  James opened up a folder he had been carrying. He pulled three sealed envelopes out and handed them around. “After some leg work my cyber analysts found something. I spoke with the director this morning who confirmed this information with the president.”

  Roger was annoyed at the thought of someone having contact with the president without his knowledge but was too intrigued by the sealed envelope in front of him to say anything. The envelopes contained the mission brief for “Parasite”. Any recent documents were heavily redacted but the original mission was listed along with its attack on Japan. Warren sat with his knee quivering. Bill admired the genius behind such a devious mission and Roger committed every part of the document to memory.

  “OK, well James this is impressive stuff, but it doesn’t really tell us much about project Parasite or why we have three dead bodies,” Bill said.

  “You’re right, Bill, but look at the names, Koishi Kamitoze, sound familiar?” James said. Bill scratched his nose. Everyone paused in thought for a moment. Bill continued to read.

  “Look at the names in the brief I gave you.” Under family member of the Emperor there was a name listed as a cousin, Yoshimitzu Kamitoze.

  James paused for a moment and watched the furrowed brows of Bill, Roger and Warren deepen, then he delivered another speech. “The Emperor at the time of the Nagasaki atomic bomb drop had a cousin. He lived in Nagasaki. In the Emperor’s letter to the president, sent just after the unconditional surrender, he mentions his cousin. He writes that the president had signed off on the death of his cousin’s wife and two sons. The Emperor took this as a personal attack. He wrote that he and his cousin would never forget this. The cousin, Yoshimitzu Kamitoze, emigrated to the United States in 1949, aged twenty-seven. He married a woman two years later who emigrated from Japan in 1946 age sixteen. She was orphaned by the Hiroshima attack. There is a birth record for one son in California. His name is Kioshi Kamitoze. Today he would be sixty-three years old. He’s been waiting his whole life. More than likely guided by his father to one day get revenge. He would know of the bomb in the Emperor’s gardens. He would know of the code. Everything the Emperor knew we could safely assume that he would have told his cousin. Who has passed down this information to his son.” Everyone was astounded by this revelation, but it sounded so far-fetched that they struggled to believe it.

  “Hold on, you’re telling me that the rag tag family of Japanese immigrants are the ones behind the death of one senior White House member, a professor and a Navy SEAL. The Professor maybe, Julie possibly, but the SEAL! I’ve seen those guys train and I’ve witnessed my own teams get captured by them on training courses; they can smell a bullet from a mile away! These must be the best-trained family of assassins the world has ever seen. I’m sorry James but this reeks of bull.” Bill threw the document onto the table.

  “Hold on, I know it sounds crazy but hear me out,” James pleaded.

  “We think that Yoshimitzu had help, possibly a small team in Japan. It looks like he did everything he could to get close to government records but was unsuccessful. He even applied for the military on three separate occasions in three different states. I think the job of achieving revenge was passed on to his son when he became old enough. Yoshimitzu died two years ago of cancer. Medical records show his exposure to radiation in Japan was the likely cause. He suffered for three years and as he battled to stay alive it became clear he would never do what he set out to do. His wife, Kioshi’s mother, died six months later, also of cancer although the doctor didn’t place the blame on radiation exposure. After seeing his father suffer Kioshi may have been spurred on for revenge. We know he has lived extended periods of his life in Japan and has no family in the United States. We suspect he may have family in Japan and we’ve been going back on all his records. It appears that he calls the same phone numbers in Japan, one of them is to a place that is officially abandoned, an old military site, we think he may have help back home,” James said, trying to convince everyone he was
n’t crazy.

  “Yeah but this was seventy years ago, why would the Japanese care about this now, they’re an ally?” Bill pressed James.

  “From what I see here I think this is a personal vendetta. I doubt the Japanese government sanctions this,” James said defensively. Roger was starting to look more convinced but remained silent.

  “But you really think an American citizen that was born here would give up his life and chase a seventy year old vendetta?” Bill said.

  “Well, we tracked purchases he’s made over the last twenty years. He was buying baby clothes and electronic devices such as Xbox games just before he would fly to Japan. We couldn’t go very far back as he only got a credit card in 1999 but we suspect he may have a wife and children and even grandchildren over there. I think that he lives his life there, in fact over the last thirty years of his life he has spent more time in Japan than in the USA.” James looked as though he had a wasp in his mouth. He knew what he was saying sounded so unlikely that he may as well be trying to convince Bill of the Roswell UFO landing or a conspiracy theory for the JFK assassination.

  “OK, so, if it is this guy, and I’m not for one second saying I believe that it definitely is, how did he do it?” Bill asked.

  “That’s a question for all of us.” Warren looked around; everyone else was staring down.

  “Do we know where he’s likely to be?” Warren asked.

  “A question for James to answer,” Bill said, frowning. James was out of answers and Roger realized it was probably best to set off; he wanted to get back and talk to the president to confirm everything.

  “I think the next meeting will be in the Oval Office. Once the president hears of this he is going to want to be kept in the loop,” Roger said.

  “OK, yeah sure,” Bill answered as if he regularly visited the Oval Office. Inside his stomach fluttered at the thought of an invitation. Warren was much more outwardly nervous.

  “The Oval Office! I’m not sure why I would need to be there?” he said.

  “Of course you would. You’re our star guy. Without you how would we have identified Ben or Lindon as we shall likely call him as we progress and you’re now one of the few people that know about this. So now you’re in there’s no getting out until we’re done. You’re part of this now whether you like it or not.” Roger placed his hand on Warren’s shoulder as he spoke and was now heading for the door. Warren looked at Bill who was standing and looking towards the door as Roger left the office.

  “Can I go home now Sir, I think I need to lie down?” Warren asked Bill timidly.

  “Yeah, take the rest of the day off and I will see you fresh and ready to go tomorrow, OK?” Warren shuffled his weight from left to right.

  “Yes sir,” he replied but didn’t get up to leave. James packed up his file.

  “I know it sounds out there Bill but this really is the best we’ve got right now. It can’t hurt to at least track this guy down.”

  “I don’t doubt that, James, but my concern is more with Lindon. Who knows the danger he’s in. I mean I’m sure it can’t be him doing this, so that means he’s gonna be high on the hit list. I just don’t know where the assassin is getting his intel,” Bill said.

  “The more we dig, the faster answers will come,” James said as he put the last file in his case and headed for the door.

  Warren rose out of his chair. His legs were a little weak. His body was reacting to the shocking news. There was an assassin out there, he had a face and a name now and he was killing anyone who could identify Ben/Lindon. Maybe he was watching over Warren already. As Warren walked down the hall he felt safer again as he noticed agent Jefferson sat having a coffee in the hallway.

  “Ready to go?” agent Jefferson asked.

  “Yeah, let’s go. Do you mind driving?” Agent Jefferson raised his eyebrows and paused for a moment.

  “Just this once, I’m not here as your chauffeur,” he said.

  “Thanks Jeff.” Warren handed over his car keys. They headed out to the car park and jumped in the Nissan. Agent Jefferson noticed the fuel light was on.

  “Do we need to stop for gas?”

  “No, it’s broken. I filled up two days ago. Every now and again it shows empty but there’s plenty in there.”

  “OK.” Agent Jefferson shrugged as he answered and flashed the headlights at the other two agents’ vehicle. They pulled out and followed the Nissan off the base.

  Chapter 15

  Jim had moved swiftly from hero to zero and then back to hero.

  Yesterday he was the man that had stopped everyone from getting an extra sweet Christmas bonus because he couldn’t secure a freelance for a job. Word had spread around the office that the agent had been offered a lot of money and Jim still couldn’t get him on board. Everyone had made smart comments about Jim’s abilities. Today Jim was ‘the man’. He had got the freelance to agree to a similar job on the same terms. The bonus was back on. Kirt was especially pleased; he had stopped by the BMW dealership that morning on his way to work and picked up the brochure. He was going for a test drive at the weekend, the salesman had told him that the new 3.0 liter turbo was the one to have and he was already ticking off the optional extras he wanted in the brochure. Kirt knocked on Jim’s door and greeted him with a smile. Jim nearly hit the floor in shock, he knew how fickle Kirt could be, but Kirt would have happily thrown Jim under a bus yesterday. Now he was his new best friend.

  Jim walked over to Casper’s office to discuss the month’s jobs so far. He was desperate to talk about any other job but the big money one for the now infamous client, Gold 714. Jim was still uneasy about letting this happen to one of his own. He had spoken to the other agents who would have to turn on Lindon during the mission. They would all receive an extra $10,000 plus Jim’s word that it would never happen to them. They were men of Dino and no amount of money would make the company turn on them. If he weren’t a freelance, they wouldn’t entertain the mission. No matter how confident Jim made himself sound the tradesmen were still a little suspicious. But an extra $10,000 each just before Christmas meant they all accepted the job.

  Casper wasn’t in his office. Jim walked to the conference room and sat down, looking out of the window. He hoped he could hide away for an hour or two after being bombarded in the morning by colleagues telling him “good job” or “nice work”. Jim had done his best to settle his conscience the night before. He decided to try everything to get Lindon to agree to the job and if he couldn’t do it in one phone call then he would forget about it. Lindon had agreed and Jim didn’t know how to feel. Part of him was happy that the people he worked with wouldn’t treat him like an outcast any longer. After all he had to spend most of his time with these people.

  But for some reason he felt attached to Lindon, not just because he was a tradesman who trusted Jim but he was ex-military, like a lot of mercenaries. Lindon had been stationed with Special Ops according to his file. Jim had spent four years in the military; he quit after he was nearly killed in Afghanistan. A Special Op had noticed an enemy approaching a vehicle Jim was in with a rocket propelled grenade launcher; he had shot two rounds in the guy’s head before he managed to raise his weapon. Jim was told that night that had it not been for the actions of that Special Op he would be dead. After that he left the military; he had infinite respect and admiration for the Special Op guys. Jim struggled with the idea of double-crossing one of the men that years before he would have hailed as a hero no matter the circumstances. Now he was trying to justify double-crossing one just because of money and corporate loyalty. It was a weak justification and Jim knew it in his heart.

  James Conran walked into his temporary office in a Manhattan tower block. The location was shown as undisclosed on CIA documents.

  He threw his overcoat over a chair in the corner of the office and slammed a bag down onto a desk. He looked down without any interest in the view from the window. Manhattan was chilly but the air was fresh. Fall was turning to winter and the streets we
re littered with leaves. Central Park was having its final flourish with every color from green to bronze before it became bare.

  James opened his laptop and connected to a secure server. He hoped that there would be good news from his team. The connecting flights that had got him to New York had been delayed and busy. He felt tired from all his recent traveling and would have taken the morning off had it not been for the recent breakthroughs. James opened his messaging app and logged in. The messages could only be accessed on site; there was an unread message from CIA headquarters. It was the one that he had been anticipating for a couple of days. Dino Logging Brothers Co had secured the job with a freelance agent by the name of Lindon Scott and agreed the terms of the mission; Lindon would be captured and handed over to the CIA unharmed using Dino’s own men.

  James felt like jumping up and down on his desk. The news was fantastic for him and the breakthrough he needed. He had secured a job to have the man they needed handed over. The CIA was about to bring home the most wanted man in the country. James stood at his desk trying to contain his excitement. The long day ahead of him just disappeared. He picked up his phone to confirm the message he had received. They would have to wait a week as Lindon was working another job in London and to make their mission tempting it had to be at a time he was free.

  James then called Roger and Bill and advised he had urgent news. The three of them arranged to meet the next day. Bill would come to Manhattan, as would Roger. Warren would not join them, as it was safer for him to stay where he was under the watchful eye of his caretakers. James wondered if the president would find out that it was him that had safeguarded national security. It would look very good for him when the directorship of the CIA became vacant. This capture would make the country safe again and nothing that Kioshi Kamitoze did now would change that. As long as he didn’t get to Lindon first. James just hoped that Lindon wasn’t double-crossing his own country. If he were working with Kioshi then nothing James could do would stop the terror.