Stan picked up the aluminum container and made for the door. He allowed himself one last look out into the harbor, but the ship’s running lights had vanished into the dark Pacific waters.
PART TWO
TH DIVIN WIND
Man has gone to the brink many times in his short history. We must therefore thank God there has always been a human being who could look beyond nationality, color, and religion to examine the truth of what he saw around him, and cried, Enough!
—FROM THE MEMOIRS OF GARRISON LEE,
RETIRED UNITED STATES SENATOR FROM MAINE AND
FORMER DIRECTOR OF THE EVENT GROUP
3
OKINAWA, JAPAN PRESENT DAY
Army Second Lieutenant Sarah McIntire held the porous lava rock in her hand for all to see. Then she winked at Vincent Fallon, professor of Asian Studies from UC–Riverside, and gave a quick nod of her head.
“So this area of the cave had been excavated before?” he asked.
Lieutenant Commander Carl Everett stood and watched the reaction of the others. He was on detached service from the U.S. Navy, serving in his sixth year in the highly secretive Department 5656, known to a very distinct few in the United States government as the Event Group. The tightly controlled Group was established officially during the Teddy Roosevelt era with historical arms that reached all the way back to Abraham Lincoln.
Carl watched Sarah McIntire closely. She was the only other member of the Group on station. They had infiltrated the university dig three weeks earlier and he was hoping this mission was a wild-goose chase. But according to Sarah, who was a damned good geologist, it seemed very likely that the research that had been done by Dr. Fallon was accurate. Meaning they might have a biological disaster on their hands, and that meant the mission to infiltrate the archeological dig might have just risen in the danger level by a hundred percent.
Sarah tossed the flame-scorched rock to the floor of the giant cave and briefly glanced at Carl. She knew he was far better than just adequate to provide security for the unsuspecting students and professors on this dig, but it didn’t stop her from wishing Major Jack Collins, the head of Event Group security, was here also. The ancient lava-formed caves were dark and powerfully evocative of a past conflict that had been brutal in its cost in human misery.
“There’s not only detonation marks on the stone and surrounding lava rock formations, but the density of the back wall shows its loose fall. In layman’s terms, Professor, that wall had once been open to this side of the cave and has since been hastily sealed.” She adjusted one of the floodlights to show the rock fall she had just examined. “I suspect our Mr. Seito is correct, that there is another chamber behind the rock fall, just as he said there would be.”
Carl looked at the old man sitting on a large rock. He had his eyes closed and was slowly rocking back and forth. The interpreter they had been using was standing next to him, silent, as he watched the analysis of the cave progress. The old man mumbled something and then the Japanese linguistics student from the University of Kyoto smiled and translated it.
“Mr. Seito says that his memory has failed in many areas, but it will never shed what had occurred during his last days on this island.”
Carl half-bowed toward the old man who had reluctantly explained in detail the last terrifying days on Okinawa. He had told them with complete clarity that he was one of the men who had sealed this very cave in 1945. That he had joyously destroyed that which Professor Fallon was desperately seeking. The old Japanese soldier had closed his eyes when he recounted how he had assisted in the ritual suicide of the island’s commander, Tarazawa.
“I must remind you, Professor Fallon, if the find is actually there, it must be immediately secured by my government,” said Mr. Asaki, an official from the government of Okinawa, as he carefully eased his way over the loose stone. He stopped before the professor, removed his glasses, and cleaned them with a white handkerchief.
Carl kept quiet as the professor nodded and responded, “We’re all well aware of your orders, Mr. Asaki, and we will be glad to turn over any substance find along with the vessel itself as soon as we verify it was actually a part of Kublai Khan’s battle fleet, and not until then; that was our deal with Tokyo.”
Asaki didn’t comment but did bow quickly, and then he waved for his man at the cave’s opening to allow the woman scientist into the excavation.
Sarah smiled and started to move away from the group to continue her inspection. She couldn’t resist saying, as she patted the naval officer on the shoulder on her way by, “Oh boy, Ms. Personality is coming in, Carl. I think she has the hots for you.”
Carl didn’t respond, but Sarah could see him shudder at the mention of the woman they both disliked. The navy man watched as the two women passed each other and nodded their heads out of courtesy; their greeting was chilly at best. The woman was Dr. Andréa Kowalski. She had been recruited by Dr. Fallon and held credentials from the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta. Unlike Sarah and him, she was here legitimately and not undercover. She was of average size, and that was the last place you could use the word “average” when describing this woman; she was a knockout. Her red hair was done up in a ponytail and she wore her extreme-environment suit unzipped and tied at the waist. Her one flaw as far as he could see was the small fact that the woman was a total bitch.
“I find your friend extremely rude,” Andréa remarked to Carl as she joined the group of people at the mouth of the excavation.
“She has a fondness for you, too,” Carl said, looking away and winking at the old Japanese soldier.
“I know she is a geologist and is needed on this venture, but what is it you do again, Mr.—”
“Knock it off, Andréa, you know he’s in charge of logistics. Remember, he’s the one that got all that fancy lab equipment here in one piece,” Professor Fallon called out. “Now I suggest you go and set up; Sarah says we can be through the wall in the next hour if we’re lucky.”
After giving Carl one more questioning glance, Andréa turned away and started setting up her equipment.
“Wonderful analyst you found there, Doc; she has the personality of a vampire bat.” Carl smiled and bowed at Seito, whose toothless grin seemed to indicate he understood the insult directed at the viral specialist.
As the old man sat his mind drifted back in time to those awful last days on Okinawa—the original discovery of what they now sought, and the horrible consequences that once could have changed the course of a war that had ended seventy years ago. Seito shuddered at the memory and, as he looked around the cavernous enclosure, he couldn’t help but see and feel those days once again …
OKINAWA, JAPAN MAY 14, 1945
The American F4F Hellcats from no less than five fast attack carriers had been bombing the Ryukyu chain of islands since mid-March. For the past several weeks, the sorties had gained in intensity as the Americans prepared for the invasion of the last stepping-stone before their final thrust at the throat of the Japanese Empire.
Admiral Jinko Tarazawa, once a trusted advisor to Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto, had been in disgrace for two years for his failure to stem the tide of American resistance in the Pacific at the war’s turning point, known to the Americans as the Battle of Midway. He had been blamed for this along with his commander, Chuichi Nagumo, and as a result was now in command of the island’s defense instead of fighting and dying for his beloved navy. A hero of the empire only three years before for his coleadership in planning the greatest naval attack since Lord Nelson ruled the seas, he now found himself a long way from Hawaii and Pearl Harbor. His dishonor was great. To be relegated to building bunkers instead of commanding one of the last battle groups remaining to the Imperial Japanese Navy was humiliation nearly beyond endurance.
As the admiral stood with his arms behind his back, looking out to sea, he was approached by his intelligence officer and handed a message. He read it quickly and gave it back to the Imperial Marine captain. The message burrowed deep int
o his mind, lodging there and bringing on a new wave of despair. The estimate from the naval attaché based in Spain had reported to Tokyo that the Americans were mounting the largest invasion force one nation had ever assembled. More than one thousand ships of war would soon be pointing their guns and sending their young men to the shores of this island. Tarazawa quickly nodded for the young marine to return to his duties, then closed his eyes and prayed for the safety of the emperor, for he knew this was to be the last blow before the Americans invaded Japan itself.
As rumbling from the excavating of caves shook the volcanic island, he saw several Hellcat fighter aircraft fly low over the island, bringing quick eruptions of antiaircraft fire from their hidden batteries.
Tarazawa was interrupted by another marine, this one a fresh-faced lieutenant who was running up waving his hands, forgetting even to bow to his commander.
“Sir, I have a report from the naval engineers on the north side of the island.”
“What is it? I cannot go rushing off from here every time they have a small cave-in!” he said. “Just tell them to clear it and start moving the medical supplies and civilians in as soon as possible; we are very short of time.”
Tarazawa was surprised when the young man stood there, disobeying his order.
“I beg for your indulgence, Admiral.”
“What is it?” he asked.
“The northernmost cave, sir, the army and naval engineers have found something you must see.”
Tarazawa’s curiosity was piqued by the boy’s eagerness. “What is it they have found that has you in such a state, Lieutenant Seito?”
The nineteen-year-old finally removed his blue cap and stepped agitatedly from one foot to the other. “When we blasted through the cave’s far wall we broke into another chamber, a chamber that had been sealed up for many, many years, Admiral.”
“This is good, is it not? That means they won’t have to expand on that particular cave as much as they had originally thought.”
“Sir, they discovered—I mean they found a ship inside. A very old ship,” the boy said excitedly.
“Unless the ship you speak of is a new aircraft carrier with attack planes onboard, I don’t see how this would interest me, young man,” Tarazawa said with a frown.
The boy momentarily looked deflated and brightened when he remembered a detail. “Sir, Colonel Yashita says it is our salvation, at least that is the information he has received from a few Chinese laborers he used to examine the vessel!”
The admiral just stared at the boy and shook his head, not understanding anything except that foolish army colonel was not following his orders to expedite the expansion of the caves. And now he is pulling his prisoner labor force from their duties? Tarazawa quickly decided he would visit the cave and have a talk with that particular soldier. This disrespect of his orders would end if he had to execute an officer as an example to the rest. He might be old and disgraced but he was still a warrior of the Bushido code.
An hour later, Admiral Tarazawa entered the front of the cave. He could see immediately that the natural feature was created by large lava flows that had once reached to the sea. It took twenty more minutes of finding his way in the semidarkness and avoiding the collisions with more than two hundred Chinese and Korean laborers clearing debris from the interior before he saw light at the rear of the monstrous cave.
There, yellowish lights played on the outline of a very old ship’s hull. The admiral could see army personnel carefully crawling all over its ancient decks. They had even gone as far as erecting wooden scaffolding, even though lumber was getting scarce and thus critical. Tarazawa stopped in his tracks, fuming.
“How long has work been stopped at this site?” he asked in a very low and controlled tone of voice while grinding his teeth together.
Lieutenant Seito again removed his hat before speaking.
“Thirteen hours, sir.”
Tarazawa closed his eyes and lowered his head. Then he forced himself to calm down as he breathed deeply. He reopened his eyes to the bright spectacle before him and walked slowly toward the short man who, unaware of his presence, was busy shouting orders from a large stage of lava rock.
“What is the meaning of this?” the admiral asked loudly so he could be heard above the portable generators.
Colonel Yashita had been a veteran of many campaigns in China before being ordered to Okinawa. He had had to suffer many indignities from higher-ranking officers who thought him to be an arrogant pig, but he would tolerate no interference from a disgraced admiral. He merely responded with a smirk.
“I asked you a question, Colonel!” Tarazawa said as he stepped onto the lowest scaffold below the rock that Yashita was standing upon. The workmen ceased their labors and listened.
“If you must know, Admiral, I am endeavoring to save our empire and our beloved emperor; and you, at the moment, are delaying this great task!”
“Explain yourself! I have thousands of men working until they collapse to make the defenses ready and you are here, instead of building a hospital as ordered. You are needlessly delaying construction because you are in a fit of delusion! You are not going to be fighting defenseless Chinese in the coming weeks, Colonel, but battle-hardened American marines and soldiers who actually shoot back!”
“Very well, I will indulge the admiral.” Yashita calmly ordered his men back to work. “Have you seen this type of vessel before? You have vast experience; you should recognize her design. I did after only a moment.” He rocked back on his heels while he bragged. “I have an advanced degree in history and engineering from London Polytechnic,” he said, reminding Tarazawa of his rich heritage.
Tarazawa glared at the colonel, then quickly scanned what could be seen of the deteriorating ship. The gunwales were deep and her deck was sloped to the extreme. The stern of the vessel was high, topped with wooden railing; there was no mast as it, along with the sail, had long since succumbed to age. He knew what the vessel was and where it came from, he just couldn’t fathom why it was here on Okinawa. Nor how it came to be entrapped in a cave that couldn’t have seen the ocean for centuries at the very least.
“It is a Chinese junk, of course. You have stopped work on one of our important underground hospitals for this?”
Yashita turned away as if he hadn’t heard the question. He paused to adjust the black-sheathed samurai sword on his belt. “This ship, according to my Chinese laborers, two of whom used to teach on the mainland, once belonged to an enemy of Japan, a seemingly invincible foe such as the Americans appear to be. But like the Chinese, they will suffer when they try to land their marines on our soil.”
“Quit speaking in riddles, Colonel, and explain why you are disobeying my orders!” Tarazawa said as he stepped menacingly closer to Yashita.
“This vessel was part of an invasion of our homeland over seven hundred and thirty years ago, Admiral.” He looked significantly at Tarazawa, his brown hat firmly angled on his shaved head, its single silver star blinking brightly in the lights. “Yes, I can see you understand now,” he said as Tarazawa added up the years and then appeared perplexed. “The year you are searching for is 1274 and the name you have misplaced in your aged mind is Kublai Khan.”
Tarazawa quickly reacted. “Impossible! The invasion fleet sank or was driven off in a storm hundreds of miles north of Okinawa. This vessel cannot belong to the grand Chinese fleet of the Khan; again, you waste our time!”
“I and my Chinese historians would have to disagree, Admiral. This ship, according to dates we have uncovered, was a part of the fleet that was destroyed by the Divine Wind.”
“The Divine Wind,” Tarazawa mouthed the words.
“Yes, Admiral. The Kamikaze, the Divine Wind of the gods, the very same wind that reached out to destroy the invasion of Kublai Khan in 1274. And now, the discovery of this ship, which was separated from the main fleet by a storm over seven centuries ago, will be the answer to millions of prayers. Only this will be a divine wind of our making t
hat will carry with it the death of every American in our home waters. This war will be ours!” Yashita shouted loudly and then started laughing.
Four hours later, after the second shift of laborers left the new excavation, Tarazawa sat inside the ancient junk’s cargo hold. Lieutenant Seito and one of the Chinese workers sat with him. An oil lamp sitting between them cast an eerie glow on the faces of the three men. They had been that way for the last three hours after examining the strange porcelain jars that the workmen had found inside the vessel. The jars were three feet high and there were over thirty-two of them. All were sealed permanently closed at the mouth by clay, porcelain glass, and beeswax, effectively making them airtight. The nature of their contents had been elusive to the Chinese for the first half of the day after Yashita had brought the containers into the hold. Their only clues to the jars’ contents were the dried and crumbling clay markers around the neck of every jar, explaining the use of the material. Tarazawa and the others didn’t know the exact name for the strange weapon that Kublai Khan had intended to use on their ancestors, but they quickly learned it was lethal.
As one of the seals was cracked open, the Chinese laborer had failed to see that some of the powder had adhered to the cork sealant. The elderly Chinaman blinked his eyes and felt the powder soak into the pores of his skin. He immediately convulsed once, then again more violently. He coughed, a deep fluidic sound that forced burst membranes to spew forth an avalanche of blood and mucous. His eyes bulged and the pupils rolled back to show the whites that were quickly filling with blood.
Legend: An Event Group Thriller Page 7