Critical Incidents: The ROK - Land of HAN (A Jack Gunn Mystery Thriller Book 1) (8 page)

Lee and I glanced at each other. “Do you think Kwon knows Ellington?” Lee asked me.

“I don’t know. But we can use our spies here to help us find out.”

Lee nodded and asked, “If they come back here, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Mi-young said, “We go now, Kapshida (Let’s go).”

It seemed Mi-young was in a hurry to leave. “Yes, let’s go,” I said. “KY, I’ll call you in the morning.”

“OK. I’ll pay the bill,” Lee said.

“No pay. Mi-young gift,” she said.

“Kamsahamnida (Thank you),” Lee said. “I’ll just tip the ladies then.”

We went outside to get a cab and I noticed the black car still illegally parked and so did Lee.

Lee took a different taxi than Mi-young and I. His home was in a different direction than the hotel. As we rode to the Chosun Hotel, she snuggled up to me, tightly holding my arm, placing her head on my shoulder. It was like the good old days.

I glanced out the back window and saw the black car on our tail.

It was Sunday morning, 7 am, when I woke up. Mi-young was still sound asleep. I kissed her forehead and pulled the covers over her perfect naked body. After taking a shower, I called room service, ordering a Korean breakfast for two, with strong coffee.

Room service brought our breakfast in fifteen minutes. After popping two 300 mg aspirins to get rid of my headache, I sat down at the desk and started to make a list of ideas that we could discuss with President Roh, if we could arrange a meeting.

While sipping on a cup of hot coffee, I jotted down: What is Suk’s background? Why change the President’s bodyguards? Who actually ordered the replacement of the NIS Director and why? Who are the current bodyguards for the President? How can we arrange a meeting with the President to advise him that we are concerned about his safety?

Other things of interest, but not necessarily related: Who is the Korean man I saw with Ellington? Who are Ellington and Wright? What are they doing in Korea? Are they the same person?

My room phone rang. “Hello, Gunn here.”

“Hello Jack, this is Ted.”

“Good morning, Ambassador.”

“I got an email that you arrived, and I’m looking forward to seeing you Monday morning to discuss the security situation here in Korea. I’ve changed the time from nine to seven. Is that ok for you?”

“Yes Sir, that’s fine for me. I’m looking forward to seeing you again. Thank you for calling.”

“Ok Jack, see you then.”

“Goodbye,” I replied.

Ambassador Ted Stevens was a career diplomat. I knew him years ago when he was an Assistant to the U.S. Ambassador in Japan. He’s a good man and takes his job very seriously, which he should because the Ambassador is the King over here. He calls all the shots with the President’s blessings.

Ambassador positions are appointed by the President as a political favor. That means someone who has helped the President become elected, either by donations or by active involvement in the campaign, can obtain an Ambassadorship. Or a person could be just a close friend of the President and land the job. 

In important countries like South Korea, Japan, and middle-eastern countries, great care is taken to select the correct person to handle the job. The Ambassador is the “eyes and ears” for the United States. He reports to the Secretary of State and the President.

Stevens is the one who requested me to head security for the Korea office. If it wasn’t for him, I’d still be in Chicago pushing a pencil. I was thinking about retiring and becoming a police officer of some type. If not that, I could always get a job as a rent-a-cop working for ten bucks an hour. That idea didn’t thrill me.

Ted is a tall good-looking dude with blond hair and a baby face. The kind of face most women like. He is kind and considerate, as well as generous to others. He likes to party and I would classify him as a ladies’ man, because he has slept with a lot of them. Ted speaks in an aristocratic-type voice, similar to a British person who has a stick up his ass, because of his accent from the New England area. 

Ted trusts my knowledge, judgment, and skill. Only I know why he does. It’s a secret that we’ll take to our graves. My thoughts wondered back to a critical incident that occurred in Japan.

IN JAPAN A FEW YEARS AGO

*****

I was assigned to the U.S. Embassy in Tokyo. Japan appears to be a wonderful country to a gaijin (foreigner) on the surface. That’s what they call us. It can be used as a derogatory word and usually is. In Japan, anyone who is not Japanese is a gaijin. No one can become a Japanese citizen unless both your parents were born in Japan.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Japan and have many Japanese friends whom I really like. The country is clean, people are friendly, and the food is great. When stationed there, I traveled all over the country and learned to speak the language fairly well. Compared to Korean, Japanese is pretty easy to pick up, especially if you have a good instructor.

Underneath the apparent law and order, there is a very dark underground. Like Korea, Japan is loaded with all types of gangs. These thugs, called Bosozoku, are the workforce of the Yakuza or Japanese mafia. They do all the dirty little jobs and give most of the proceeds to the Yakuza. The Yakuza controls most of the gambling, prostitution, shipping docks, airports, hotels, night clubs, unions, and drugs in Japan. They are powerful, with close links to government officials and police departments. It is a known fact that bribes and payoffs are committed all the time.

You never hear about the Yakuza in the news. That’s because Japan wants it that way. Everyone looks the other way when Yakuza are involved. No one ever talks about the Japanese mafia, but they are everywhere and into everything.

You never know who is a member of the mafia. It could be a woman or a friendly little old man. He could be the blood-thirsty boss of a Yakuza gang. World-wide there are over one-hundred thousand Yakuza members.

Ted Stevens, then Assistant to the U.S. Ambassador, and I became close friends after I was assigned to protect him on trips around Tokyo and Japan. He was single and took a liking to Japanese women. Ted was an avid runner and went jogging every day. He liked to jog from the Okura Hotel, where we lived, to the Imperial Palace and back. It was about a three mile run, but it was uphill coming back from the Palace. I started jogging with Ted, and pretty soon we were hanging out together.

Ted and I liked Japan and we would go out on Saturday nights to different clubs. He actually introduced me to some small night clubs in Minato City, which is part of Tokyo. Ted was very friendly, even to strangers, and didn’t seem to be afraid of anything. I don’t think he had ever been in a fight and was a little naive. This bothered me, so I took him under my wing and started teaching him how to be more careful, or one day he would find himself up shit creek without a paddle. At the time, little did I know that I would be in that boat with him.

In the city of Minato there are two Yakuza Clans. There’s the Inagawa Gang, which has twenty thousand members running around the city. Then there is the Sumiyoshi Clan, which has fifteen thousand men. So it stands to reason that sooner or later you are going to run into someone who is in the Yakuza. I think that a city with thirty-thousand gang members definitely has a problem. 

One Saturday night, Ted took me to meet his new girlfriend at the Golden Dragon Club. It was located, let’s say, on a shady side of town. I warned him that I didn’t think it was a good idea going into this place, as we pulled up outside.

I commented, “Ted, I don’t think this place is very safe,” as I glanced around at the cycles and hot cars parked in the lot. I also noticed a lot of young men hanging around outside the club, but very few women. It wasn’t normal for a typical Japanese club.

“Don’t worry, Jack. I’ve been here a few times. It’s totally safe. I really want you to meet Keiko, because she has a girlfriend who wants to meet an American.”

“Why does she hangout here?”

“She works here and it’s close to her home.”

As I slammed the car door, the men standing in front of the club glared at us. They didn’t have on typical Japanese Saturday night party clothes. I wore a sports coat to conceal my weapons. Many of the Japanese men that I observed had on long leather jackets and wore a red bandana around their heads.

Ted approached the door first, and a huge Sumo-type guy stood in his way. The large man was dressed in a suit and tie. He said in English, “Gaijin, cover charge ten thousand yen each,” while holding out his big fat hand. I noted that the tip of his little finger had been cut off, which is a sure sign of a Yakuza related gang member. Five other men stood around gawking at us and laughed as Ted handed the fat bastard twenty-thousand yen. It just cost us two hundred bucks to get into this shithole. The fat man let us pass into his domain.

The club was packed and a band was playing. The music was blasting so loud I couldn’t hear myself think. It was a clean place but it reminded me more of a biker bar back in the United States. The club had a few private rooms along the side walls and tables in the center of the room. The band was located along the back wall, in a corner.

As we walked in, it seemed like everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at us like they had never seen a gaijin before. I didn’t like it, because I could see some of their faces were full of hate.

Ted was scanning around the room; searching for his new girlfriend. Out of the mass of people, a woman walked up to Ted and kissed his cheek. She said, “Teddy-san, you made it here.” 

She was dressed in skin-tight black leather pants, with high heeled black boots, and a white translucent see-through blouse. Her jet black long hair hung straight down, with bangs cut across the front of her forehead.

I could see why Ted took a liking to this woman. She was a looker alright, with a great figure. You couldn’t help but notice her ample breasts protruding out of the translucent blouse; it didn’t hide much. 

“Jack, this is Keiko Kamata,” Ted said. We shook hands and I bowed slightly while peering into her dark eyes that were lined with blue mascara. Her sensuous lips were coated with bright glossy pink lipstick.

“Very nice to meet you, Jack-san,” she said, in perfect English, which surprised me.

“It’s nice to meet you also,” I replied, as I took another look at her breasts.

Keiko smiled and said, “Come with me I have a private room.” We followed her to the other side of the club, pushing our way through the crowd. The private rooms had those rice paper pane doors, called shoji, which let in the noise and light, but you can’t see through them.

She slid the door open and sitting in the room was another young looking woman. Maybe she was too young for me and maybe not, as it’s hard to judge the age of oriental woman. As we entered, she stood up. Keiko said, “Jack-san, this is Midori Takahashi.”

She bowed and so did I. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Takahashi-san.”

“It is my great pleasure to meet you, Jack-san,” she said, in a high pitched soft voice. “Please call me Midori.”

Midori had short-length blond hair. She was thin, but well built, and stood about five foot four, much shorter than me. She was a pretty woman. On a scale of one to ten, I’d give her an eight, maybe a nine. She didn’t have on a lot of makeup for one thing, which was good. Midori wore a short red dress with spiked red high heels, which made her look taller. Something about that dyed blond hair surrounding her oriental face made her really attractive and sexy to me.

We sat down on the plush brown leather couches and ordered a bottle of Skyy, with tonic water. After a few drinks, Ted and Keiko went to dance, leaving Midori and me alone. The music was blasting through the paper door, making it difficult to talk.

I didn’t know what to say, so I pulled out a smoke and she lit it for me. Midori said, “Jack-san, take off your jacket and be comfortable.” I was surprised at how well she spoke English.

“That’s ok, I’ll keep it on.” I didn’t want to expose my weapons.

Midori was a happy person, always smiling, and laughing, in a bimbo kind of way. She made small talk and asked me if I worked for the American Embassy like Ted. That surprised me, because Ted is not supposed to let that fact be known, for security reasons.

“No, I don’t work for the embassy. We’re just friends.”

She was very curious about what I did for a living and kept asking me questions. I told her I was a salesman for RCA. She wanted my name card, which of course, I didn’t have. I found out she was a waitress for the Golden Dragon and so was Keiko. It happened to be their night off.

Ted and Keiko came back to the room after about an hour of dancing. Ted seemed disturbed and commented, “Let’s leave and go somewhere else.”

“Why, what happened?” I asked.

“While we were dancing a few guys kept bumping into me.”

“Well, that’s dancing, Ted. It’s crowded.”

Keiko commented, “No, they were doing it on propose. They wanted to start a fight. Let’s leave before there is trouble.”

“Wait, I have to pay the bill,” Ted replied.

“Don’t worry about the bill. It is our treat,” Keiko said.

Outside, as we were walking to Ted’s car, we heard a voice behind us. “Gaijins. Hey gaijins, come here!”

I told everyone to keep walking to the car.

A man yelled, “Gaijin! You no leave until you pay.”

Without looking, I could hear several voices behind us and footsteps. They were quickly approaching us. Standing next to the car, we all turned around. Three men were standing there in long black leather coats with the red bandanas around their heads. I glared at the man who stood closest to me, and glanced at the two standing behind him.

I asked, “What do we owe you money for?” He had on aviator sunglasses, even though it was dark out. His hair was long, covering his ears. He was a skinny little punk trying to look tough in his black leather jacket and red bandana.

“The whores. Gaijin take whores, you pay five hundred thousand yen.” he replied, while grinning. The other two dorks laughed at his comment.

I did a quick calculation in my head. In U.S. money that was almost five thousand dollars. This guy is out of his freaking mind.