Dragon (55 page)

“Which means Yoshishu and Tsuboi can step in and activate the detonation systems,” the President theorized.

Brogan’s expression of optimism was slowly collapsing. “With Suma in our hands, there’s no predicting how they’ll react.”

“Perhaps I should reorder the nuclear strike,” said the President halfheartedly.

Jordan shook his head negatively. “Not just yet, Mr. President. There’s another way we can buy time to reassess the situation.”

“What’s on your mind, Ray?”

“We let the Japanese tune in to Commander Harper’s signals reporting that the plane carrying Diaz, Smith, and Suma crashed into the sea with the loss of all on board.”

Brogan looked doubtful. “You really think Yoshishu and Tsuboi would buy that?”

“Probably not,” said Jordan with a canny look, “but I’ll bet they’ll think about it until we can put the Kaiten Project out of business for good.”

60

T
RUE TO HIS WORD
, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs had General Mackay’s personal Air Force C-20 passenger jet sitting beside the runway that stretched across Wake Island as Pitt dropped the tilt-turbine on a marked pad in front of the small terminal building.

Mel Penner had flown up from Palau and was waiting, cupping his ears against the scream of the turbines as the wheels touched the concrete. The area was surrounded and cordoned off by nearly twenty air police. Penner moved toward the aircraft and stood expectantly at the doorway. It swung open and Weatherhill was the first out.

Penner stepped forward and they shook hands. “Glad to see you’re still in the land of the living.”

“That makes two of us,” said Weatherhill with a huge smile. He glanced around at the Air Force security ring. “We didn’t expect a welcoming committee.”

“You’re the hottest topic of discussion at the White House. Is it true you made it out with Suma?”

Weatherhill nodded. “And Diaz and Smith.”

“You made quite a haul.”

Stacy stepped down and was also surprised to see Penner and the guards. “Somehow I get the feeling we’re not going to refuel and continue to Hawaii,” she said, hugging Penner.

“Sorry, no. There’s an Air Force jet waiting to fly Suma and the legislators to Washington. They’ll be accompanied and guarded by a military intelligence team. The rest of us have been ordered to remain here on Wake for a meeting with a group of high-level hotshots sent by Jordan and the President.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t have sent you more data,” explained Weatherhill, “but we thought it best if we stayed off the airwaves and made out a report in person.”

“Jordan agrees. You made the right decision.”

Weatherhill handed Penner a file folder filled with neatly typed sheets. “A full report.”

Penner stared at the report with a blank look. “How?”

Weatherhill gestured back inside the aircraft. “Suma had it, fully equipped to conduct business. We wrote it up during the flight on a word processor.”

Mancuso popped his head out the door. “Hi, Mel. Did you bring the party hats and champagne?

“Good to see you, Frank. When can I meet your passengers?”

“Sending them out now. You’ll have to wait a minute for our guests from Japan to disembark until I free them.”

“You had them under restraint?”

“They got a little testy at times.”

Loren and Diaz stepped squinting into the bright sun and were introduced to Penner, who related the flight procedure. Then Suma and Toshie were ushered out by Mancuso, his hands tightly gripping each by an arm.

Penner made a slight bow. “Welcome to United States territory, Mr. Suma, but I don’t think you’re going to enjoy your stay.”

Suma gave Penner the offhand glance he reserved for underlings and acted as if the intelligence operative was invisible.

Toshie looked at Penner with uncontrolled hatred. “You will treat Mr. Suma with proper respect. He demands he be freed immediately and returned to Japan.”

“Oh, he will,” Penner said mockingly. “After he’s enjoyed an all-expense paid vacation in our nation’s capital, courtesy of the American taxpayer.”

“You are violating international law,” Suma said nastily. “And if you do not release us, vengeance shall be swift and many of your countrymen will die.”

Penner turned to Weatherhill. “Can he back up the threat?”

Weatherhill looked at Suma. “Sorry, you can forget about the Dragon Center. Its juice has been cut off.”

“You were successful?” asked Penner. “Ray Jordan and Don Kern are clawing the walls, waiting to hear.”

“A temporary fix. We only had enough explosive to blow out a fiber-optic bundle. They should be back in business in several days.”

Dr. Josh Nogami exited the plane and was greeted by Penner. “A real pleasure to meet you, Doc. We’re grateful for your efforts in getting information out to us. Your help was invaluable.”

Nogami shrugged modestly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t have saved Jim Hanamura.”

“You might have given yourself away and been murdered too.”

“Mr. Pitt did his best to prevent that.” Nogami glanced around, but saw no familiar faces. “It looks as though I’m an agent without an assignment.”

“When our Deputy Director of Operations, Don Kern, learned you were on board, he requested that you be temporarily assigned to us. Your superior agreed. If you don’t mind working with a bunch of colonials for a few days, your knowledge of the Dragon Center’s layout would be very helpful.”

Nogami nodded. “The weather here beats rainy London any day.”

Before Penner could reply, Giordino leaped from the tilt-turbine and ran toward a squad of air police that were herding Suma and Toshie to the waiting C-20. He rushed over to the officer in charge and asked him to hold up the procession for a moment.

Giordino was only half a centimeter taller than Toshie. He looked straight into her eyes. “Dear heart, wait for me.”

She stared at him in angered surprise. “What are you talking about?”

“Courtship, amorous pursuit, nestling, endearment, proposal. As soon as I can catch up to you, I’m going to make you the happiest woman alive.”

“You’re mad!”

“Only one of my many charms,” said Giordino engagingly. “You’ll discover lots of others in the years to come.”

Amazingly, Toshie wavered. For a strange reason she couldn’t comprehend, she began to find Giordino’s very un-Japanese approach appealing. She had to struggle to suppress any friendliness she felt toward him.

Giordino recognized her uncertainty and grasped her slender shoulders in his beefy hands, kissed her briefly on the lips, and smiled. “I’ll catch up to you as soon as I can.”

She was still staring at him wordlessly over her shoulder as Penner took her by the elbow and brusquely led her away.

Pitt escorted Loren to the C-20 jet after Suma, Toshie, and Diaz were seated aboard. They walked in silence, feeling the warmth from the sun and the humidity stroke their skin.

Loren stopped several meters from the aircraft and stared into Pitt’s eyes. “It seems one of us is always coming and going.”

He nodded. “We lead busy, separate lives. Our schedules never mesh.”

“Maybe someday…” Her voice died softly.

“Someday,” he said in understanding.

“You’re not going back?” she asked hesitantly.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Al and I have been ordered to remain behind.”

“They can’t send you back to that island. Not now.”

“I’m a marine engineer, remember? I’m the last man they’d ask to assault the Dragon Center with six-shooters blazing.”

“I’ll talk to the President and request you and Al be sent home.”

“Don’t put yourself out,” he said easily. “We’ll probably be on the next flight east.”

She stood on her toes and kissed him gently on the mouth. “Thank you for everything.”

Pitt smiled. “Anything to please a pretty lady.”

Tears began forming in her eyes. Loren had a feeling of dread in her stomach. Somehow she knew he wouldn’t be following her anytime soon. Suddenly she turned and hurried up the boarding stairs into the aircraft.

Pitt stood there looking after her. Then he waved as her face appeared in a window, but when Loren looked for him again as the plane taxied to the runway he was gone.

61

T
SUBOI COULD NOT
believe it. After leaving Yoshishu and rushing from Tokyo to Edo City and then to the Dragon Center to take personal command, he stood in the control room tense with growing rage.

“What do you mean you cannot detonate any of the bomb cars?” he demanded.

Takeda Kurojima, the Dragon Center’s chief director, was stricken. He looked around helplessly at his small army of engineers and scientists for moral support, but they all stared at the floor as if hoping to be swallowed by it.

“Only Mr. Suma knows the codes,” Kurojima answered with a patronizing hands-out shrug. “He personally programmed the code system for the prime and detonate signals.”

“How long will it take you to reprogram the codes?”

Kurojima stared at his staff again. They began muttering rapidly between themselves. Then, seemingly agreeing on something, one stepped forward and murmured so softly Tsuboi didn’t hear.

“What… what was it you said?”

Kurojima finally stared into Tsuboi’s eyes. “Three days, it will take three days minimum to erase Mr. Suma’s command codes and reprogram the systems.”

“That long?”

“It is not a quick and simple procedure.”

“What is the status of the robotic drivers?”

“The robot program is accessible,” replied Kurojima. “Mr. Suma did not insert the codes to set in motion their drive and destination systems.”

“Two days, forty-eight hours. That’s all you have to make the Kaiten Project fully operational.” Tsuboi tightened his mouth and clenched his jaws. He began to pace the control room of the Dragon Center. He cursed the serpentine mastermind who had outfoxed them all. Suma had trusted no one, not even his oldest and closest friend, Yoshishu.

A phone buzzed and one of the technicians picked it up. He went rigid and held out the receiver to Tsuboi. “Mr. Yoshishu in Tokyo for you.”

“Yes, Korori, Ichiro here.”

“Our intelligence people have intercepted a report from the American ship. They claim Hideki’s plane was shot down. Did our pilots actually see Hideki’s aircraft go into the sea?”

“Only one returned. I was informed the surviving pilot reported that he was too busy evading return fire from the ship to witness his missile strike the target.”

“It could be a bluff by the Americans.”

“We won’t know if that’s the case until one of our observer satellites can be programmed to pass over the ship.”

“And if it shows the plane is on board?”

Yoshishu hesitated. “Then we know we are too late. Hideki is lost to us.”

“And under tight security by American intelligence forces,” Tsuboi finished.

“We’re faced with a very grave situation. In the hands of American intelligence, Hideki can become an acute embarrassment to Japan.”

“Under drugged interrogation he will most certainly divulge the locations of the bomb cars.”

“Then we must act quickly to preserve the Kaiten Project.”

“There is another problem,” said Tsuboi grimly. “Only Hideki knew the operational codes to activate the prime and detonate signals.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Then Yoshishu said slowly, “We always knew he had a cunning mind.”

“Only too well,” agreed Tsuboi.

“Then I leave it to you to discover new directions.”

“I won’t fail your trust.”

Tsuboi set down the receiver and gazed out the observation window. A silence came over the control room as everyone waited on his word. There had to be another solution for delaying any retribution by the United States and other Western nations. Tsuboi was a smart man, and it only took him a few seconds to come up with alternate plans.

“How complicated is it to set off one of the bombs manually?” he asked the assembled engineers and scientists in the control room.

Kurojima’s eyebrows raised up questioningly. “To detonate without a coded signal?”

“Yes, yes.”

The technical brain who headed the Kaiten Project from start to finish bowed his head and answered. “There are two methods by which a mass of fissionable material can be made subcritical and forced to explode. One is to surround the mass by a ring of high explosives whose detonation will in turn set off the fissionable material. The other is to shoot together two masses by a cannon-type device.”

“How do we explode a bomb car?” Tsuboi demanded impatiently.

“Velocity,” Kurojima answered briefly. “The impact from a high-velocity bullet through the compressor shell and into the mass should do it.”

Tsuboi glared inquiringly. “Are you saying the bombs can be set off by nothing more than a shot from a rifle?”

Kurojima bowed his head. “At close range, yes.”

The effect on Tsuboi was just within the limits of credibility. “Then why don’t you simply program a robot to fire a high powered rifle into the air-conditioner shell?”

“There is the problem of time again.” replied Kurojima. “The robots that are programmed to drive the cars to their detonation sites are not constructed or programmed for anything else.”

“One of the roboguards, could it be modified?”

“The reverse. Security robots are designed for mobility and weapons fire. They are not designed to drive a car.”

“How long to make one that can do the job?”

“Weeks, no less than a month. You must realize we have to create a very complicated piece of machinery. We do not have one in production that can drive a car, climb out on articulated legs, open a hood, and shoot a gun. A robot with these built-in movements would have to be built from the ground up, and that takes time.”

Tsuboi stared at him. “We must detonate one within the next five hours to make the Americans think the system is operational.”

Kurojima’s confidence had returned. He was in control and his fear of Tsuboi had faded. He gave the financier a long steady look. “Well then, you’ll just have to find a human to do the job.”