Honorable Enemies (1994) (44 page)

Both men studied each other during the uncomfortable silence.

"Calling a growing military power"--the President carefully selected his words--"a Self-Defense Force, to skirt the word `military' and circumvent the constitution, is exactly what has happened, and everyone has looked the other way."

"Are you suggesting," Koyama grumbled loudly, "that we stop expanding our military capability?"

"No," the President answered calmly and looked at the mountain scenery.

"Then I suggest we return to the conference room," Koyama said in his coarse rasp, "and expedite this meeting."

The President's demeanor changed from that of a pleasant gentleman to a person who was clearly combative. "I'm not saying that you should put a cap on the Japanese military. What I am saying is that we will continue to help defend Japan as long as we agree to the size and scope of your military forces."

For a long moment there was another period of silence in the lounge, sending a renewed level of tension through the empty room. The Prime Minister wasn't sure he had understood what the American had said.

"Our position is very straightforward," the President announced provocatively. "Our government--and many of our allies--are going to ensure that Japan does not become a global military power."

Chapter
40.

The first Japanese security guard to reach the top of the stairway was accompanied by a snarling, snapping, gray and black German shepherd.

"Susan," Steve cautioned in a steady voice, "don't make any quick or threatening moves."

She remained silent while they inched backwards toward the edge of the building.

The uniformed guard raised his gun. Steve had no choice. He shot the man twice in the chest and the barking Alsatian charged him.

"Steve!" Susan cried out as she fired at a second security guard. He staggered a half-dozen steps and fell to his knees, then rolled onto his side and lay still.

Wickham shot at the dog and missed. He raised his left arm to protect his throat and backed near the edge of the roof as the enraged animal leaped at him.

He squatted slightly, then thrust himself upward and twisted sideways, catapulting the dog over the side of the building.

Susan stopped in midstride as Steve frantically waved his arms to catch his balance while he teetered on the edge of th
e r
oof. As he felt himself going over, Wickham spun around and desperately grabbed for the cement edging.

"Hang on!" Susan yelled as she rushed to help him. A split second later, she caught a glimpse of Matsukawa as he stepped through the door and onto the roof.

They exchanged shots before she rolled behind an air-conditioning unit.

Wickham was struggling to hoist himself up on the roof when Matsukawa ran over to him and raised his Sig Sauer to shoot the CIA agent in the head.

Susan crawled from behind the air-conditioning machinery and pumped three rounds into Matsukawa's side. The businessman screamed and cursed in agony as he crumbled to the roof, then fell over the edge of the building:

With her heart in her throat, Susan raced over to Wickham as he painfully pulled himself up and threw a leg over the concrete lip on the roof, then crawled to safety.

"Give me your badge and your gun!" Steve ordered Susan while he jumped to his feet and ran to the nearer of the two wounded security officers.

"What are you talking about?" Susan demanded while Wickham rolled the mortally wounded man onto his stomach and yanked the handcuffs and key from his service belt.

"You're now in my custody"--he was breathing heavily--"and we're going to get the hell out of here!"

"Have you gone crazy?"

"Turn around," he barked and clamped her arms behind her with the handcuffs. "I've got the key in my pocket."

"Steve," she said curtly, "I don't like this idea."

"Come on!" he commanded and placed Susan's badge in his shirt pocket as he marched her toward the entrance to the stairway. "We have to get creative if we're going to survive."

"I hope," she fumed in a guttural voice, "that you know what the hell you're doing."

"That makes it unanimous."

She gave him a quick glance. "You are crazy."

Wickham fired three shots down the hallway to force everyone to run for cover, then jammed his Beretta into the small of his back and dropped Susan's weapon into his jacket pocket.

"Let's go," he exclaimed and grabbed Susan tightly by the upper arm to steady her while they bounded down the steps. "Hopefully, the guards won't have our description yet--so play it like a fugitive."

Susan lost her balance and Steve caught her before she stumbled facefirst into a wall. "Careful!"

"Steve, I feel helpless . . ."

"That's the image we want to project."

A few seconds later, they collided with a security guard and two policemen as all five tried to force their way through the stairwell entry on the ground floor.

Steve yanked Susan's badge out and flashed it in front of the three men while they gawked at the two strangers and backed away in stunned silence.

"Captain Rodzwicky," Steve said boldly, "Special Operations. I've captured one of the saboteurs, but there are three or four others loose on the top two floors.

"They're armed and dangerous," Steve continued loudly, "and the ringleader is a small man in a dark-gray suit with light-gray pinstripes."

Susan's eyes grew large and she looked at Steve. That's what the man who was in Hawaii is wearing.

"Be careful," Wickham cautioned and shoved Susan past the officers.

"Thank you, Captain," one of the policemen said formally while the other two men acknowledged the information and warning with a nod and slight bow.

"Excuse me, mate! Step aside!" Steve said to the onlookers as he deftly unlocked Susan's handcuffs and led her through the confused crowd.

"Gangway, lads," he said in his best Australian accent while he pocketed the handcuffs and flashed Susan's badge. "Police, mate. Make room! Now clear the way!"

When they reached the street, Steve and Susan heard a shot ring out. They paused and looked up toward the roof. Two security guards were pointing at them. One was talking into a portable transceiver.

"Stay calm, okay?" He clutched Susan's badge.

"What are my choices?"

They rushed out in the middle of traffic and Steve leaped in front of a taxi and held up the badge.

"Stop! Stop!" he shouted while they ran to the driver's window as the cab skidded to a halt.

"We have an emergency," Steve said and motioned for the two businessmen in the backseat to get out. "We must get to the nearest hospital as quickly as possible!"

The startled men got out of the back of the taxi and stood there in silence while Susan and Steve jumped in and the driver floored the accelerator.

"Steve," she said, staring through the windshield. "I can't believe you did--"

Susan's joyous relief was abruptly cut off by a round that penetrated the roof of the cab.

"Drive!" Steve ordered while he grabbed Susan and covered her with his body. "Isoideiru! Hurry!"

The frightened driver barely glanced up at his shattered roof as he skillfully weaved his way through the congested traffic. He hunched over the steering wheel and never once looked in the rearview mirror at his passengers.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked when he finally helped Susan to a sitting position.

"I think so," she replied weakly and slumped in the seat. "I don't know whether to thank you"--she looked up and shook her head--"or shoot you."

Steve shrugged with nervous fatigue. "Don't make any rash decisions. We're not out of this yet."

"May I ask just one small question?" Susan said while he returned her badge and Smith & Wesson.

"Sure"--he smiled uncomfortably--"if it isn't too personal."

"How have you managed to live this long?"

"Careful planning," Steve replied and motioned for the driver to pull over.

Wickham gave the shocked and confused man a generous tip and they walked a half block and caught another taxi to take them to the Keio Plaza Hotel.

"Susan," Steve began when the cab pulled into traffic, "we'll brief our people about who was behind the attack at Pearl Harbor, then check out of the hotel. We need to get out of the country and let the heavy hitters in Washington take over."

"I agree with that assessment." She noticed that her hands were trembling.

"Yeah," Steve replied with a grin of embarrassment. "It got a little crazy, but what do you do when the suspect from Hawaii walks into the office next to you . . . and looks through the glass partition?"

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Susan chided him while she clasped her hands together. "We didn't have any other options, except drawing our weapons and eventually being surrounded by Matsukawa's security personnel."

"Surrounded and shot. Thanks for what you did back there." An odd silence settled between them before she finally spoke. "Your quick thinking saved both of us."

"Well," he responded, "I'd have to describe it as shifting into survival mode."

Susan allowed a tiny smile and grasped his hand. "I think we're a good team."

Steve gently squeezed her hand. "A great team."

They stared into each other's eyes, keeping their warm feelings bottled inside so their collective vulnerability wouldn't show.

Steve finally broke the spell. "When I contact Langley, I'll make arrangements to have the military pick us up at Atsugi, then we'll go to the air base for security reasons."

"Atsugi?"

"It's a U
. S
. Navy airfield just west of Yokohama. We'll be safe there."

"I still think I'll shoot you," she observed with a quiet laugh, "and save you the trouble of waiting for someone else to put you out of your misery."

Chapter
41.

Genshiro Koyama felt light-headed and feared that he might be on the verge of having a major stroke. Small black dots drifted to and fro in his field of vision and his balance was strangely off center. You bastard, he thought as he studied the American President. When your country is bankrupt and the remnants of your carrier battle groups are rusting in storage, Japan will own America.

"Prime Minister Koyama," the President went on with a renewed determination not to taunt the highly respected Japanese leader. "In the best interest of both of our countries and our combined allies and trading partners, we want to help make Japan's military strong enough to be a deterrent to would-be aggressors, yet not a threat to the global balance of power."

Koyama was only half listening to the man he considered to be an incompetent, dangerous fool. The Prime Minister firmly believed that the American President had developed a loud, irritating bark to offset his rubber teeth.

"We are going to increase our protective commitment," the President continued in a calm, relaxed manner, "to ensure that Japan has adequate U
. S
. military support in Southeast Asia."

Koyama finally found his voice. "I'm afraid you're deluding yourself about making the decisions on how large Japan's military forces are going to be."

The heavy mood, combined with the opposing personalities and tough talk, were threatening to shatter the fragile alliance of the former bitter enemies.

"I wouldn't have made the statement," the President said emphatically, "if I had any doubt about the outcome of the policy I intend to pursue."

The irascible Japanese politician scowled with anger and gave himself time to think. His contempt was further aroused by his indignation at losing face, and the American detected the emotion.

"Japan regained its independence in 1952," Koyama growled, "and we will decide what is in the best interest of our country and military."

The President struggled to hold himself in check. "Prime Minister Koyama, you're going out on a dangerous limb, and it's not all that strong."

Koyama bolted forward in his chair and flared his nostrils. "The days of dancing to the whims of the White House are over," the ruffled Prime Minister spat venomously, "and you better get used to it."

Now it was time for the American to measure his words before he opened his mouth.

"What we're going to have to get used to," the President responded evenly, "is helping each other through difficult times and agreeing to what is in the best interest of the whole world--not just Japan or the United States."

"We will not be dictated to by America," Koyama replied in a low voice, "or by anyone else, for that matter."

"The facts may be distasteful," the President conceded in a voice laced with canned sadness, "but Japan has had a taste of sobriety--a taste of reality, if you will--from the boom days of the eighties to the difficult days of the nineties."

The President fixed Koyama in his stare. "There are certai
n s
teps we must take to ease the concerns of our neighbors, and one of the first tasks is a realignment of the Japanese military structure."