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Authors: David Hagberg

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“How does
Abunai
see that?” Karyagin asked. “How do you see it, General?”
Once again the director had put him on the spot. “Basically Mintori, like too many other corporations within that
zaibatsu,
is an information-driven industry whose sole purpose for existence is to make money. It does this by minimizing its risks and exposure. In order to do that, and still get on with the business of manufacturing, or research and development—or in the case of
the Kobe banking
zaibatsu
, provide developmental capital—it actively gathers intelligence. As a whole the Japanese have been engaging in industrial espionage since before the Great War,” Polunin added. “The entire nation must continue to manufacture at ever-increasing levels or die. Which means they must know what their market competitors are doing and devise strategies to either better them, or destroy them.”
“The ultimate capitalists,” Karyagin said dryly.
“Every Japanese businessperson who meets with a foreigner is a spy for his country. Whatever information is gathered goes back to the individual companies, which in turn share significant details with their individual
zaibatsus
, which in a final turn share with the government. Specifically the Ministry for International Trade and Industry—MITI. It's as close as we can get to identifying any centralized Japanese intelligence agency, and of course its primary involvement is business.”
“I will suffer your lengthy explanations, General, because I am no expert on Japan. But get on with it.”
“Simply put, Mr. Director,
Abunai
believes that Mintori does not have enough information to make its final move against Guerin at this time.”
Karyagin raised an eyebrow. “
Abunai
is a network of people, or one individual?”
Polunin had anticipated the question. There was no reason for the SUR director not to know that information; it was just that all good intelligence organizations understood the guiding principle of “need to know.” There was no reason, until now, for the director to be told the specifics. Polunin took a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it across the table. The director read what it contained and looked up.
“I see,” he said. He handed the slip back and Polunin pocketed it.
“The sinking of the
Menshinsky
shook the Japanese government as much or more than it did us.”
“Tell that at the Kremlin.”
“It shook the Japanese
government
, Mr. Director,”
Polunin made his point again. “But
Abunai
believes that Mintori—specifically its director, Sokichi Kamiya, and the director of the Kobe Bank
zaibatsu
, Hiroshi Kobayashi—may have had previous contact with the captain of the submarine, the
Samisho
. His name is Seiji Kiyoda, and he comes from a very old, very venerable family. He has apparently fashioned himself and his crew after Yukio Mishima's Shield Society.”
“They are using this submarine commander as a tool?”
“A similar incident seems to be developing between this submarine and an American destroyer in the Tokara Strait at the entrance to the East China Sea.”
Karyagin sat forward. “Have shots been fired?”
“Not yet. We have a RORSAT due to pass over the region within the hour. If we get a break in the weather we might see something. Short of that, infrared sensors will at least tell us if there has recently been a battle.”
“Why, General? If what
Abunai
tells us is valid, if Mintori and Kobe are targeting Guerin, why engineer attacks on our navy and on the Americans? To what end?”
“We cannot answer that yet, Mr. Director. But it's my guess that these naval confrontations may be an effort at misdirection that somehow may help them in their run on Guerin. There is some logic in the idea, especially if it is considered against the Japanese Prime Minister's free trade proposal. But there is another, much darker possibility that would reduce the naval attacks and the bid for Guerin to individual elements of a larger plan.”
“What are you thinking?”
“A brief, very intense little war for economic control of the Western Pacific basin. The Japanese desperately need guaranteed supplies of oil and minerals from the region, and a constantly growing market for their manufactured goods. The same things the new American economy is scrambling for.”
“Subic Bay comes to mind,” Karyagin suggested.
“I'm sure it's foremost in many Americans' minds. As
are the growing anti-American sentiments in Tokyo and Yokosuka—home base to the U.S. Seventh Fleet and home port of the
Samisho
.”
“The Japanese are a sophisticated people. It would be suicide for them. They are America's allies. As you said of Mintori's timing, Japan would have everything to lose and nothing to gain.”
“A view widely held, Mr. Director,” Polunin replied, masking an inward smile. The bastard didn't know his way around as well as he thought he did. “MITI is almost certainly spying on the United States, and
Abunai
believes that a top MITI operative may have been sent to Washington to specifically target Guerin for information.”
“Is this surprising?”
“In itself, no, Mr. Director. But this operative was observed meeting with Mr. McGarvey on at least one occasion. Interesting, wouldn't you say, in light of what he told us?”
“Are you saying that Guerin's offer to build an assembly factory here is false?”
“I don't know. In my gut I think the offer is legitimate. But I don't think McGarvey is. In fact it's very likely that he is working on direct orders from the CIA, something Guerin's chief executives might not know. He may even have somehow maneuvered the airplane company into offering us the factory.”
“Make your point.”
Polunin sat back and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. It was time for caution, very big issues were at stake. Career-breaking or career-making issues. Unlike a lot of people on his staff, Polunin did not pine for the old regime. But he did miss its stability. Russia and the entire world had become politically liquid. It was very much like the Weimar Republic days of Germany. Worldwide, the setup seemed chillingly similar.
“McGarvey offers us a billion dollar factory if we will help him spy in Japan. He's killing two birds with one
stone. First he puts us in a position where any retaliation against the Japanese for sinking the
Menshinsky
would be difficult if not impossible, and second gets us to share intelligence data. Something in both cases that Washington may want very desperately. They are in trouble in Japan, and they'll take all the help they can, because if the United States and Japan do go to war over the Western Pacific rim, the United States will lose.”
“Preposterous.”
“No, Mr. Director, it's likely. Within hours after the first shots are fired, Washington would call an immediate halt to all hostilities. Japan is, after all, its ally and major trading partner. Washington will demand they talk and not shoot. At the end of the … peace conference, if you will … the Japanese will get what they want. The Western Pacific basin is vital for Japan's survival, but not for America's.”
“Keeping us out of it would not help them.”
“On the contrary. If we move against Japan, it will give them the legitimate excuse to mobilize, with if not the full approval of the U.S., at least with its understanding.”
“Because of one submarine.”
“No, Mr. Director, because of two very powerful and important
zaibatsus
that may be maneuvering an unwilling Japanese government into the confrontation.”
“Then we must help McGarvey. But you say the man has met with the Japanese spy.”
“How better to find out what a government's intentions are than to find out what its spies are up to?”
“Has this information been passed to McGarvey yet?” Karyagin asked.
“No.”
“What are you recommending, General?”
“
Abunai
is trying to penetrate Mintori or Kobe or both, but it is very difficult. I recommend that we give Tokyo Station all the support we can. But McGarvey is going to have to be watched very closely. I would like to determine if indeed he is working for the CIA, and what his exact mission might be.”
“How would you go about that?”
“By trying to penetrate his cover. If his work for Guerin is legitimate, he'll bleed a little. If not he'll sidestep it.”
“But then he won't cooperate with us.”
“Yes he will, because he won't know who is after him or why.”
“He is an intelligent, capable man, General,” Karyagin warned. “Move with care. And do it quickly. The Kremlin is pressing very hard to retaliate for the
Menshinsky.
”
The situation was exactly as Polunin thought it would be. With proper timing and luck, Karyagin would hang at the end of his own rope.
 
“It wasn't a very smart thing to do. It jeopardizes all of us,” Reid told Louis Zerkel.
“It was the only thing he could do,” Mueller contradicted.
“What are you talking about? Do you understand the consequences? Our lives are inside the FBI's mainframe. One mistake on Louis's part, one glitch in the system across the river, one careless flick of a key by some bored data-entry clerk, and we're finished.”
“It can't happen that way, Mr. Reid,” Louis said. He sat at his computer terminal, the screen blank. “I've built in a virus against snoopers. There are only two ways for that information to be accessed. By me, if and when I decide to retrieve it. And also by me, if I don't plug in the proper code twice a day. In that case the entire file will be plastered across nearly every terminal in the headquarters.”
“You can get the information from him,” Reid said to Mueller.
The German shook his head. “We wouldn't know if he was telling the truth until it was too late.”
“You two are forgetting something else,” Louis said.
“No,” Mueller replied, a slight smile creasing the corners of his mouth. “We need you to build the repeaters, and to test the heat monitor to make sure
everything will work. We also need you to somehow generate the signal in Tokyo so that InterTech in San Francisco will send out the firing pulses. I think it will take a genius to figure that out, but I have no doubt that you are up to the task.”
“Jesus,” Reid said.
Mueller turned to him. “It's life insurance for him. He is afraid that I will kill him the moment his usefulness is at an end.”
“Damned right,” Zerkel said.
Mueller looked at him. “But you have forgotten something in your haste, Louis. If someone were to go snooping within the FBI's system, your virus would wipe out the material. I think Mr. Reid could come up with someone who would be willing to do a little snooping for us. What do you think about that?”
It dawned on Louis in one fell swoop that the German was absolutely correct. He had been stupid, blinded by his own cleverness. Christ. Christ. It wasn't fair. He turned back to his terminal and brought up the complicated entry system that would get him back into the FBI's system, when the muzzle of a pistol was placed against his temple.
“One keystroke and I will kill you,” Mueller said, his voice gentle, as if he were talking to a spooked animal.
Zerkel's fingers were poised over his keyboard as he thought it out. He hardly dared to breathe. “If you kill me now, your plan dies with me,” he said very carefully.
“I will kill you only if you attempt to reveal our names and this location.”
“I could do it later, while you're out of the room.”
“The moment I found out what you'd done, I would kill you, your brother, and Mr. Reid, and make my escape. I am very good at it.”
Zerkel took great pains to keep his voice even, as if he were simply discussing the weather. “You'll kill me at the end.”
“We'll construct a safeguard against that.”
“How?”
“I don't know yet, Louis. But between the three of us we will come to a mutual agreement.”
It was always the sly ones, the crafty people who came out on top, not the intellectuals. Most often the men of true genius were left behind, trampled in the dust. It made no sense, nor was it fair. But Louis did understand that it was the way of things in the world. The
usual
way of things. But he wanted to finish this project. Now that he'd come this far, he wanted to see how it turned out. And he wanted to see about it in the journals and periodicals and especially in the analytical newsletters. He wanted to read the studies that would be done. The psychological profiles of the perpetrators, and especially of the genius who had figured out how to beat the system.

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