The Citadel (5 page)

CHAPTER 2
Oahu, Hawaii

"The Citadel is in Antarctica, as you can tell from Truman's document, which David included in the packet," Royce said. "Where, exactly, though, is the problem. Antarctica is a very large place."
"Why is this Citadel so important?" Vaughn asked. "Besides the fact it might hold four hydrogen bombs, each capable of destroying a major city?"
Royce stared at him. "Majestic-12 built two bases when they were established. One was Area 51. Do you want to try to infiltrate it?"
Vaughn shook his head.
"And the other," Royce continued, "is the Citadel. Since no one has heard of it, perhaps it might be a little easier to approach, at least in terms of security. I'll grant you the terrain and weather are probably the most brutal in the world." He paused. "But the main reason is that David Lansale sent me—and someone else—this information. From the equivalent of his death bed. Actually from beyond his death. So I'm going to take a leap of faith and think it's important, very important. And that David wanted to poke a stick into the ant's nest that the Organization is and see what happens."
Poke a stick?
Vaughn stirred irritably, not thrilled with being the stick.
Tai reached up and put a hand on Vaughn's arm. "Let's hear him out."
"Antarctica is ice-covered," Royce said. "The actual extent of the land underneath the ice is a best guess to a certain extent. A lot of people don't realize it, but the North Pole is ice on top of the Arctic Ocean—not a landmass. Antarctica is a true landmass, and it holds ninety percent of the world's ice and snow. And, interestingly enough, it is the only continent not to have its own native population."
Vaughn looked at the picture once more and the mountains in the background. "How well-mapped is Antarctica? I mean how could this Citadel, if it's there, have remained hidden for all these decades?"
Royce didn't seem to appreciate the "if it's there" qualifier. "If you wanted to hide something, the best place in the world would be Antarctica. Plus, according to the photos, it was built under the ice and buried. Although Antarctica is the size of Europe and the United States combined, less than one percent of it has been seen by man."
Vaughn was skeptical. "Even with overflights?"
"Even with overflights. From 1946 through '47 the U.S. Navy ran a mission called Operation High Jump using over five thousand men, thirteen ships, and numerous planes and helicopters. They took so many pictures that some of them haven't even been developed yet. Despite all that equipment and manpower, their coverage of the interior was very limited. With all that manpower, they managed to photograph about sixty percent of just the coastline."
"And build the Citadel," Tai said.
Royce nodded. "I think High Jump was just a cover to put the Citadel in place in Antarctica or it was used as a convenient cover once the exercise was planned. And it looks like they put it under the ice. The war was just over and the material and men were available. The government made no secret of the operation. You can look the mission up. It was well-documented. However, what no one seemed to wonder was why the government was so interested in Antarctica. And why did they dispatch dozens of ships and airplanes to the southernmost continent so quickly after the end of the war?"
"To hide things," Tai said. "So much of what was plundered by the Japanese and the Germans during the war has still never been found. Maybe that's where some of it went."
"It's likely," Royce said. "High Jump was a very extensive operation. The largest exploration operation launched in the history of mankind up to that point. The official expedition took so many pictures of Antarctica that they all haven't even been looked at to this date. Like I said before, the expedition surveyed over sixty percent of the coastline and looked at over half a million square miles of land that had never before been seen by man. I found boxes and boxes of reports and pictures from High Jump in the archives.
"Antarctica is a pretty amazing place. The ice cap is three miles thick in places. The current altitude of the land underneath the ice is actually
below
sea level in many places, but that's only because the weight of the ice on top depresses the continent. If the ice were removed, the land would rise up. Even today with all the subsequent explorations, only about one percent of the surface area of Antarctica has been traversed by man."
"What about satellites?" Vaughn asked. "They should have complete coverage."
Royce shook his head. "Satellites are either in synchronous orbits, which means they move at the same speed as the rotation of the earth, thus staying relative over the same spot, or they have their own orbits. As far as I know, there are none in a synchronous orbit above Antarctica—no reason for one to be. There are no weapons allowed down there by international treaty, thus no military presence."
"No weapons at all?" Vaughn asked.
"None," Royce said. "Some satellites run the north-south route and cross the poles, but two factors work against their picking up much. First, quite simply, no one has been that interested in Antarctica, so they simply aren't looking as they pass over that part of their orbit. Secondly, the weather is terrible down there, and it's rare that the sky is clear enough to get a good shot of the ground."
"You just said there are no weapons allowed down there," Tai noted. "So, I assume four big nukes would be a bit of a violation?"
"A bit," Royce allowed.
Vaughn had some experience working in cold weather climates during his time in Special Forces. He was beginning to get a strong sense of where this was heading. "What's the weather like down there, besides cold?"
"Bad," Royce said. "Usually very bad. Antarctica is the highest, driest, coldest, windiest continent. Wind gusts of a hundred and fifty miles an hour are not unusual."
"What do you mean driest?" Tai asked. "It's covered in snow."
"That's a misconception," Royce said. "It hardly ever snows or rains there. But you do have a layer of snow covering the ice that gets blown about a lot, causing whiteouts and blizzards. But there's very little actual precipitation."
"All this is fine and well," Vaughn said, "but as you've made abundantly clear, Antarctica is a large place. How do you propose we find this Citadel down there?"
Royce held up the picture of the men holding the sign. "You ask the man who took this picture."

Manila, Philippines

As she got closer to the designated place, Fatima felt more and more as if she were back in Japan. Very strange, considering she was less than two miles from her new headquarters hidden in the heart of the Filipino capital city.
It was a section of Manila, approximately ten blocks, with a concentration of Japanese who lived there, along with all the trappings for tourists to get a taste of the Asian homeland. It was bordered on the south by a five-acre mall that contained various shops, restaurants, galleries, and Japanese gardens. At this time on a Friday night it was well lit and packed with people. Not exactly what Fatima desired in a covert meeting place, but she had no other choice.
She checked the directory for the center and found her destination. The Sensei Bookstore contained the city's largest collection of books in Japanese, so it was not strange at all when she walked up to the register and made her request in Japanese, naming a specific book she was looking for.
The response of the young woman standing behind the counter, however, was not normal. Her eyes flickered back and forth, then she lowered them.
"You must go to the Kawasan restaurant," she said in a low voice. "Down the stairs directly across from the door you came in. Turn right. One hundred meters. On the right. They will expect you."
Fatima turned and departed, glancing over her shoulder as she pushed open the door. The woman was on the phone, but still avoided looking at her. This piece of information had cost Fatima over $25,000.
She followed the instructions. The Kawasan was darker than the bookstore, and there was a queue of people outside. Fatima bypassed the line. A thin Japanese man in a very expensive suit stood next to the maitre d', watching Fatima approach. He took her right elbow in his hand. "This way," he said in Japanese.
Fatima felt the man's thumb press into the nerve junction on the inside of her elbow, effectively paralyzing her right hand. They wove their way through the darkly lit bar, then through a swinging door. Another man sat on a stool in the small corridor, a raincoat folded over his lap. The two men nodded. Fatima heard a distinct click, a door unlocking. They passed the second man, going through another door. It swung shut behind them with another click. Two men stepped forward, and Fatima's guide let go of her arm. They were in a short corridor with walls of some dark material that Fatima couldn't quite make out. The lighting was also strange.
"Hands out."
One of the men ran a metal detector carefully around Fatima's body. The other man then patted her down, double-checking, doing nothing sexual at all as he ran his hands over her breasts and between her legs. Then, with one on either side, they escorted her to a set of metal stairs. Their shoes clattered on the steel as they went up. A door opened, and Fatima blinked. They were on the top of the mall in a glass-enclosed room about sixty feet long by thirty wide. It was dimly lit by the reflected light from the surrounding city and the sky overhead. A dozen tables were spread out on the roof, and the two men led her to one separate from the rest, where several men dined.
Fatima was brought to a halt facing an older Japanese man who sat at the head of the table. She could see that the man's skin was covered in various tattoos, the signs of his Yakuza clan. Serpents disappeared into the collar of his gray silk shirt and dragons peeked out from his shirtsleeves. His fingers were covered with gaudy gold rings, jewels sparkling in the streetlights. Fatima shifted her gaze, checking out the roof.
The old man laughed. "The glass is specially made. It can take up to a fifty-caliber bullet. If my enemies wish to use something larger than that, then nothing much will stop them. It is also one-way. We can see out. Those on the outside see only black, making it also rather difficult for a sniper."
Fatima turned her eyes forward and waited.
"I am Takase, Oyabun of all that you see. I received a message from your servant," the old man said.
"I have no servants," Fatima said. "Only comrades in arms."
"Noble," Takase said with a sneer. "I understand you had a meeting with Ms. Kaito."
"Yes."
The old man ran a hand across his chin, stroking his thin beard. "She did not come out of the meeting feeling very well."
"She did not."
"There is no love lost between my clan and the Black Tentacle clan."
"That is why I am here."
Takase leaned back in his seat. "What do you need?"
"Information."
Takase's hand slapped the tabletop. "This is
my
part of the city. You show me respect."
Fatima stood still.
"I could have you killed and no one would ever hear from you again." The old man gestured, and the guards grabbed her arms.
"I would very much appreciate your assistance…Oyabun," Fatima said as one of the guards placed a blade across her neck. The last word rolled off her tongue with difficulty. Showing any sign of respect for such a man distressed Fatima. But she needed him now.
He smiled as he dug his chopsticks into his food. "The great leader of the feared Abu Sayif. Except Abayon failed and is dead. And now a girl takes his place."
"I am no girl," Fatima said. "If I do not leave here unharmed in thirty minutes, this entire block will be destroyed. You are in
my
country. Oyabun."
"You attack me," Takase said, "then there will be war between our groups."
"A war you will lose in
my
country," Fatima said.
The sticks poised. "What do you want to know?"
"Kaito was Black Tentacle. Who does the Black Tentacle work for?"
"No Yakuza works for—" Takase began, but Fatima cut him off.
"Have your man remove the knife from my neck and have the others release me."
Takase gestured, and the guards backed off.
Fatima continued. "You are not a stupid man or else you would not be alive. You know there is an Organization out there that is bigger than the Yakuza. Bigger than any government. That uses others. That has been around for a very long time."
Fatima waited. Takase put down the chopsticks. He gestured, and those at the table with him left. The guards backed up out of hearing distance. "And if I knew of such a thing?" he asked, although he did not wait for an answer. "If such an Organization existed it would be so powerful I would not want to do anything to incur its wrath."
"That is indeed smart," Fatima said. "But I just want to cut a tentacle off, not take on the entire Organization. To do so, I must know where to find this tentacle. And as you indicated, this tentacle is something that is not friendly to you."
Takase considered this. "Why are you so concerned about this Organization? You fight the Christians, the Americans. Are they one and the same?"
"We fight the rich, who are gluttons," Fatima said. "Those few who keep the majority of the world's wealth and resources to themselves while millions starve and die of disease."
Takase laughed. "Such nobility from terrorists. The dog is chasing its own tail. Political games don't interest me." He stuffed food in his mouth and chewed. "I will inform you when I have something to inform you of. My men will find you. Do not come back here."
Fatima turned and followed the two guards back to the stairs.
Behind Fatima, Takase waited until the woman was gone, then the old man stood. He quickly walked to an elevator, a pair of guards surrounding him as he moved. He stepped in, leaving the guards behind. It whisked him down over 150 feet, through the Japan center to a level four floors belowground. When the door opened again, Takase stepped forward into a large room, then bowed toward a figure behind a desk twenty feet in front of him, hidden in the shadows cast by large halogen lamps on the far wall. Takase spoke, while bowing, his words echoing off the heavily carpeted floor. "The new head of the Abu Sayif was here. She has asked for information about the Black Tentacle. It goes as you said it would, Oyabun. What should I do?"
The man seated behind the desk lifted a wrinkled and liver-spotted hand. When he spoke, his voice was so low, Takase had to strain to hear him. "She is reaching out into darkness. It is a dangerous thing to do, but Abayon would not have picked her if she were not special."
"She did kill Kaito," Takase noted.
There was only the sound of a machine pushing oxygen into the old man's lungs for several moments before he spoke again. "Let her know about the Black Tentacle and the I-401 submarine. That should keep her occupied and cause both the Black Tentacle and the Organization to remain busy."
Takase bowed his head in compliance. "Yes, Oyabun."