The Korean Intercept (28 page)

"You get to work tracking down that colonel and his airfield," said Galt as they reached the intersection, joining the pedestrian flow. "I've got a date to keep with Meiko. It's time for another goodbye."

 

A wind had picked up, whipping across the tarmac where the Concorde basked in the night lights like a giant queen bee, fawned over and catered to by the scrambling, last-minute maintenance and baggage-loading activity seen beyond the observation windows of the indoor boarding area, where travelers crowded, awaiting admittance onto the Los Angeles flight.

Sachito Kurita had been driven to the Haneda Airport to meet Meiko. The widow's large, almond eyes were red and moist, but she held her chin high and only the slightest tremble of her lower lip betrayed inner emotion. Her shapely figure was encased in a tasteful black pants suit, with pearls and earrings that matched. Straight, shoulder-length midnight black hair was tied back. Her handshake, when she greeted Galt upon his approach, was as firm as when they'd first met yesterday at this airport, yet lacked the vibrancy of only the day before.

Her chauffeur, who was certainly her bodyguard, lurked off on the periphery of people visiting with friends, associates and loved ones.

Galt saw no sign of General Tuttle.

Meiko had changed into another decidedly Western-style blouse-and-skirt outfit since she, Galt and Tuttle had parted company after their return trip to Tokyo aboard the bullet train, squashed in amid the rush hour commuters at sunset.

Galt and Meiko exchanged a hug, with an extra squeeze from her. He saw the questions in her eyes. She had not been told the details of tonight's mission, and would be terribly frustrated right now, apparently not wanting to ask, in front of Sachito, if he and Tuttle had uncovered any criminal involvement on the part of her father. And the hug lasted longer than it might have. He felt her magic touch him inside.

She whispered into his ear so only he could hear. "Trev, I love you so. I'm sorry. Good luck. Come back safely, with Kate. What is meant to be will happen."

Then they mutually ended the embrace, and she smiled deferentially in Sachito's direction. "I only asked my stepmother to send in my luggage. She was gracious enough to come see me off." As well as he knew, Galt discerned no trace of insincerity in her words.

Sachito accepted this with a modest nod. "Please return to your homeland soon, Meiko. It is my wish that we become acquainted under less trying circumstances."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Sachito, and for allowing me access to my father's office today. You have been most kind." Meiko clasped a shoulder strap bag, and held her boarding pass. She said to Galt, "Part of me doesn't want to leave. What's happening in Washington has to be covered, but things are happening here too."

"Is that right?" said Galt neutrally.

"Sachito received word on her cell phone on our way here. There's been some sort of occurrence in one of the buildings downtown owned by Kurita Industries."

"Occurrence?" said Galt, feeling Meiko's eyes, watching him, grow speculative.

"We don't know the details," said Sachito. "It happened less than an hour ago."

"Some sort of explosion," said Meiko. "Ota Anami was killed, as were several other men."

Galt wore the same black slacks, shirt and jacket that he'd worn when he'd scaled the face of the Tanaga Building to that penthouse conference room where hellfire erupted, and here he was awash with mixed emotions as the three of them stood surrounded by people conversing in various languages, saying their goodbyes. He did not want to see Meiko go. His respect and love for her was equaled only by, well, by his respect and love for an equally formidable specimen of womanly perfection whose name was Kate, and Kate was still his wife. And he had come halfway around the world to find her. Yes, there was the shuttle. Yes, there was the brewing of international crisis, enemies with nukes aimed at each other and those closest to the center of power, including the president of the United States, understanding that Galt's lone wolf covert op posed not a threat, but possibly the only hope of avoiding a military collision course that could very quickly escalate into a nuclear exchange that would cost the life of practically every American serviceperson in Korea, as well as countless civilians. Yes, yes, all of that was true. But he would not have broken the rules, would not have gone mad dog lone wolf, cutting from the White House basement to thrust himself into the belly of this monster, had he not been driven by the need to get to his woman because she was in trouble, simple as that. He had come to kick all the ass that needed kicking, on his side and theirs, whatever it took to find his wife. That's how much he loved Kate Daniels. That's what drove him. Love drove him.

And he could see in Meiko's eyes that she maybe understood him better than he understood himself. She extended her hand for a polite handshake.

"You'll find her," she said, as if she'd read his mind.

Their handshake sent those same old electrical jolts through him, just as the hug had; just as their first physical contact had, the day he and Meiko first shook hands. It had seemed too simple then, so pure and okay, falling in love with her because after all, Kate had left him. Hell, she'd wanted away from him so bad, she'd gone into outer space. Jesus, he told himself. Shut it off, you dumb nihilistic idiot. And with that, the surreal disorientation went away. He was not the first man to be in love with two women. But right now he had a job to do, and Meiko understood. He fell in love with her a little more because of that. Damn, as Turtle would have said.

Then her flight's departure was announced, and with a nod to both of them, she was gone, joining the stream of passengers boarding the Concorde, leaving Galt standing there next to Sachito.

She extended her hand again to him. "Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you, Mr. Galt."

He smiled cordially. "I believe that I should be saying that to you." She had not commented on the fact that he was not departing Tokyo with Meiko, as he'd arrived.

"You will excuse me," she said. Her almond eyes were unreadable. "I must leave now to learn more about what happened to Mr. Anami."

Galt acknowledged this with a parting nod, thinking, whether you find out or not, lady, with any luck I killed him.

Tuttle sidled over from amid the dispersing crowd surrounding them. He stood beside Galt and watched Sachito walk away, accompanied by her chauffeur. Tuttle sighed, a man-to-man sigh.

"No disrespect to the recently widowed, but there goes one mighty fine figure of a woman."

Galt grinned tightly. "And no disrespect to an old goat, but you have been burning up that cell phone of yours, right, General?"

Tuttle snorted indignantly. "I'll have you know that I'm a happily married man. Jesus, Galt. I wouldn't expect you to be a prude."

"Just trying to keep us on mission, sir. Not always easy with beautiful women around, I grant you. So what have we got?"

They stood alone in the departure area.

"Okay, here it is, good and bad. We still do not have target coordinates for this warlord's fortress. Nada from the spy satellite flyovers. Chai Bin is well entrenched, and no mistake."

They started walking down the window-lined corridor leading away from the waiting area.

"And what's the good part?" Galt asked.

"Our augmentation package has slipped into Japan: Army Rangers and Air Force planners and pilots. Supplies are stockpiled, and we have a shipload of bombs and smart weapons at our disposal." Tuttle's gaze turned to the observation windows, which were rattling, buffeted by the forceful night wind. "Oh yeah, there is some more bad news. There's a storm front moving in. Forecasters agree it's going to pack one hellacious punch. These windy conditions are just the beginning."

"Then let's do it," said Galt, and quickened his pace.

 

Chief Inspector Inogu of the Tokyo Public Security Bureau stood in the ruins of what had been the double-wide doorway to what had been the penthouse conference room atop the Tanaga Building.

He scanned the activity and the carnage in the wind-swept room—windswept because an ever-increasing wind howled outside the gaping hole in the wall where the window had been. The wind blowing through the conference room created wind tunnel-like turbulence. Gusts rustled papers, ruffled hair and snapped the tails of the white smocks worn by the forensic technicians as they labored. In eleven years on the force, Inogu had never seen anything like this. And he had seen much. While the average citizen's day-to-day life in Tokyo was crime free, violent crimes committed by the
yakuza
gangs against each other were often brutal and vicious. But never like this. This was mass murder, a Western phenomenon almost unheard of in Japan. Slabs of expensive pine paneling had been ripped away by the tremendous blast of a high explosive charge. The walls were splashed with blood. The corpses had not yet been removed. The forensic technicians moved methodically among the body bags, meticulously gathering and recording data. The heavy conference table had been blown apart, a recognizable leg here and there like the human body parts about on the floor: a severed ankle here, and a blown-off-at-the-shoulder arm there.

The medical examiner approached Inogu. "We won't have anything definite until initial forensic data is processed, and that should be by tomorrow morning."

"Please tell me what you do know."

"That is very little. The glass of the window was blown outward first, since there is so little glass amid the rubble in the room. Gunmen in this room fired for some reason, blowing the window out. Then a high explosive device was launched into the room, and the explosion occurred and these men were killed." The medical examiner studied the windswept, gaping hole in the wall across from them. "And this on the thirty-fourth floor! Exceedingly strange, wouldn't you say, Lieutenant?"

"Ugaki was the only survivor?"

"Yes, sir. He was taken by ambulance, under police escort, to the hospital."

Inogu's eyes raked the carnage. "The
yakuza
body-guards open fire and blow the window out, and whoever they're shooting at on the thirty-fourth floor then proceeds to slaughter them with high explosive. Yes, exceedingly strange. There is one among the dead that is of particular interest to me, Doctor."

The medical examiner glanced at one of the body bags near the center of the demolished room. "Anami, the only man here who was not
yakuza
. The way it looks, he was seated beside Ugaki. There would have been chaos. When he was found, Ugaki was unconscious from loss of blood but survived by dragging Anami across him, shielding Ugaki from the blast that killed Anami."

"What is Ugaki's condition at present?"

"Serious, but stable. He will live."

Inogu nodded his satisfaction. "He will live to answer my questions." He became aware of a new presence approaching him. He turned to see a man, in plainclothes, extending identification, in a leather packet cupped in his palm, for Inogu's inspection.

"I am Captain Okada, Kompei Special Internal Affairs Division." The man spoke sharply. "I am here to take command of this investigation."

They exchanged formal bows and a perfunctory handshake. Inogu started to introduce himself.

"I know who you are," said Okada. "As of now, Lieutenant, this investigation is under Kompei jurisdiction, under direct order of the head of Japanese Security."

In the 1948 Constitution, Clause Nine, the Japanese people had renounced war forever. Officially, there was no intelligence service as such, although in fact such units were regularly recruited from various police departments and self-defense forces.

Inogu tried to conceal his total surprise. "But Captain, this is a mass homicide involving organized crime figures. That is under the jurisdiction of my task force."

The Kompei agent indicated the carnage. "These
yakuza
were deeply involved in a grave international crisis involving Japan. That is all you need to know."

"The American space shuttle," said Inogu. "I heard the news report on the way here. It is thought the shuttle went down in this part of the world." It wasn't much of a guess, merely the first "international incident" involving Japan that occurred to him since it was foremost in the day's news. He scanned the body bags within the room. "Are you telling me that these
yakuza
were involved in that?"

"I am telling you that you are off the case, Lieutenant, as is your forensic team. The Kompei has its own, and I have brought them."

He stepped aside then to allow a half-dozen white-smocked technicians, carrying their own equipment cases, to pass into the room accompanied by Kompei agents in plainclothes who commenced interrupting the technicians at work, unceremoniously herding them out.

"There will, of course, be no statements made to the media by anyone concerning anything related to this," Okada concluded. He bowed slightly to Inogu and the medical examiner. "You will excuse me."

The police forensic team stood in the hallway, packing their equipment, bristling amongst themselves.

The medical examiner sighed. "My wife often nags me about the irregular hours of this job. She will be happy. We are going home early, it seems."

Inogu watched Okada assume command of the newly-arrived forensic team like a military field commander. "The Kompei does not share or disclose information."

The M.E. frowned. "I was surprised to see Ota Anami among the dead. The
yakuza
, Kurita Industries, the Kompei, and now a missing space shuttle, perhaps. What do you make of it, Lieutenant?"

"I never thought Kurita Industries was dirty."

"And yet they lay old Kentaro Kurita's ashes to rest," the M.E. sighed, "and his successor, Anami, is killed tonight."

Inogu's eyes traveled to the gaping hole, and to the howling wind and darkness beyond. "Doctor, there is more than one storm brewing tonight."

 

The Pentagon

 

The President met with his chiefs of staff of the army and air force, his chief of naval operations and the commandant of the Marine Corps in the War Room on the second floor.