Honorable Enemies (1994) (6 page)

FBI Special Agent Susan Nakamura glanced at her watch as she drove her white Toyota Camry southwest on Market Street. After working all night on the latest information about the Pearl Harbor attack, Susan was running late for her flight to Honolulu.

She reached forward and selected an easy-listening FM station as she neared Golden Gate Avenue. A few moments later she saw a large crowd of people moving into the street near the Civic Center.

She began to slow down when she saw the flashing light
s f
rom four police cars approaching from the opposite direction. Another anti-Japanese demonstration was forming.

The traff slowed to a crawl as the mob of angry Caucasians charged a group of young Japanese protesters.

Susan was attempting to turn around when she saw an assortment of bottles, sticks, rocks, and other debris fly through the air. Heavily outnumbered, the Japanese were defenseless as the police began to fire tear gas into the unruly crowd.

Blocked in front and back by other cars, Susan sat helpless as the enraged mob broke and ran in her direction. She made sure her windows were up and the doors were locked, then reached for the 10-millimeter Smith & Wesson in her purse.

Two scraggly men who appeared to be drunk stopped by the hood of her car.

Susan stared straight at them and slid her weapon next to her leg. "Move on and do yourself a favor," she said through gritted teeth.

"Hey, looky here," laughed a skinny man with a birthmark on his face. "We got us a stinkin' Jap bitch drivin' a Japmobile."

"Yeah, man," his pal chuckled and put his hands on the hood and leaned forward. "Hey, bitch, how about doin' us both for the price of one?"

Susan's temper flared and she gripped the Smith & Wesson with a renewed strength. "You morons."

The man with the birthmark reared back and kicked the left front fender as hard as he could, almost losing his balance. "Whad'ya think about that, Tokyo Rose?"

Susan flipped her badge on the dashboard where they could be sure to see it, then gripped her weapon with both hands and slowly raised it above the steering wheel.

"Shit, man!" birthmark exclaimed. "A fuckin' cop!"

Both of the vagrants ran through the traffic and disappeared into the crowd east of the Civic Center.

After the adrenaline shock wore off, Susan's heartbeat finally slowed to normal as she continued toward the airport. Sh
e t
urned the radio off and thought about the escalating conflict between the Japanese and the Americans.

Ambassador Koji Hagura was a short, rubbery-faced man who epitomized the etiquette of the Japanese lifestyle and ancient traditions. Always the polite gentleman, Hagura never directly contradicted anyone. Instead, he would go out of his way to find an indirect and conciliatory way to express his view.

Educated at Boston College and Stanford, Hagura would occasionally smile at a particularly amusing story or joke, but he never laughed in front of the Americans. His mission was serious, and he was a proud man who relished being the Japanese Ambassador.

Special Envoy Yamagata Isoroku was a younger and thinner version of the Ambassador. He had adopted many of Hagura's mannerisms, but not the stiff, formal public face. Isoroku was very active in the Washington diplomatic social circles. He enjoyed the less-pretentious social style of the Americans, and he had quite a reputation as a raconteur of anecdotes after a couple of stiff martinis.

Although Isoroku often grew impatient with the Americans, whom he considered short-term thinkers, he kept his feelings to himself. Like Hagura, Isoroku believed that any sign of impatience, or any display of irritation, would be regarded as a loss of face.

After they entered the impressive office, Hagura and Isoroku stopped and bowed.

The President and his Secretary of State, who were standing beside the desk, returned the polite gesture with bows that were almost imperceptible.

Although the Japanese occasionally shake hands, especially to save face when an unknowing Westerner thrusts out a paw
,
shaking hands remains for them an unusual and uncomfortable personal experience.

The President motioned for his guests to have a seat while Tidwell sat to one side.

"Gentlemen," the President began slowly while he seated himself, "we offer you and the Japanese people our deepest sympathy for the unconscionable incident in Hawaii."

He specifically avoided using the words Pearl Harbor. "Let me assure you that we're doing everything in our power to bring to justice the person who committed the heinous act."

The President looked straight into the Ambassador's widely set, soft brown eyes. He could see the sincere pain in Hagura's demeanor.

"It was a cowardly act, and we are using every resource available to find and apprehend the person who committed this abominable crime."

Koji Hagura's usual air of self-assurance had been replaced with a rather bland, expressionless look. He waited a proper amount of time before he delivered the short speech he had practiced for the past two hours.

"Mr. President," he said at last, "we sincerely appreciate your kind words and thoughts. On behalf of Prime Minister Koyama and the Japanese people, I offer our humble apologies for the regretable terrorist attack in Osaka."

Yamagata Isoroku lowered his dark eyes and nodded in agreement. They were honestly embarrassed by the brutal reprisal, and fervently hoped the authorities in the National Police Agency would soon track down the culprits of the grisly mass murder.

"I have been authorized," Ambassador Hagura continued with genuine compassion, "to offer a sizable amount of financial compensation to the families of the victims."

The President darted a look at his longtime friend. Tidwell gave him a slight nod. Hagura was going out on a diplomatic limb. If the tender was rejected, Koji Hagura would lose face and the refusal would further arouse resentment between the two feuding governments.

"Secretary Tidwell," the President advised gracefully while he fixed them with a stare, "will be happy to assist you in any way he can."

Before Hagura could respond, the President continued in a pleasant manner, sensing the suffering of the two men. "I know this is a painful time for all of us, but I need to discuss a few items unrelated to terrorist activities."

Seasoned diplomatic veterans, Hagura and Isoroku steeled themselves and mentally reviewed their standard replies to the standard complaints from the Americans.

"We have become concerned," the President said firmly, "about the insidious and continuing deterioration in the relationship between our countries."

He paused to allow time for the two diplomats to adjust to the sudden change in topics.

"We admire your efforts toward self-sufficiency," the President admitted with just the right amount of enthusiasm, "but the continued expansionism in the areas of strategic industries, especially nuclear, aerospace, and particularly the area of conventional weapons, has become alarming."

The President knew that many countries, including some U
. S
. allies, were deeply distressed by the ever-growing Japanese Self-Defense Force, known as Jieitai. Many U
. S
. military leaders, including the Joint Chiefs of Staff, regarded Japan as a mushrooming military power.

"Mr. President," Hagura said dryly while he attempted to keep his neck muscles from tightening, "strategic endeavors and military matters are not my area of expertise."

The President allowed a tiny grin to cross his face, then demonstrated some of his finely honed political skills.

"Ambassador Hagura"--he smiled, revealing his even white teeth--"I'm a straightforward guy who likes to cut through the obscurations. I like everyone to just throw it on the table, out in the open, so we can discuss our problems until we reach an agreement, then implement the plan and stick to our decision."

The President had his prey cornered. "Don't you think that's the best way to iron out our differences?"

Hagura. maintained his composure and simultaneously nodded his head and lowered his eyelids. He was aware of the American's reputation for coming across as a simple, down-home country boy and then nailing his adversaries to the wall. The intelligent, well-educated President was a formidable challenge, and Hagura was always on guard.

"We've had all kinds of meetings, assemblies, come-togethers, diplomatic exchanges, and days and weeks and months of endless discussions," the President declared and slowed his delivery. "And we're still not out of the starting blocks."

The Ambassador cleared his throat. "I assure you that our government would be pleased to open channels of communication if you wish to address certain specifics."

Concealing his frustration, the President caught Tidwell's look of concern. "Ambassador Hagura, since you're the direct link to Tokyo, how about arranging a personal meeting between the Prime Minister and myself--say in Lake Tahoe, or here if he so desires--in ten to twenty days? I know it's short notice, and I know your country has major political changes taking place, but I believe you would agree that time is of the essence."

Hagura and Isoroku were clearly uncomfortable with the suddenness of the suggestion.

The new Prime Minister didn't like the American President, and he had made that point crystal clear in front of Japan's leaders of industry as well as the bureaucrats who operated the government.