“No. The Japanese are now going to run the Swan Song show,” FBI Director Robert Mueller began to explain. “They have begun training for the arrest phase of the operation.”
“Then what are my duties now?”
“Grant, you are still to oversee the American aspect of the operation. We will want to debrief Agent Ripley when his mission is concluded. That is assuming he survives it.”
“Then we’re to bring Ripley out alive?”
“Yes, Grant. Agent Ripley is to be retrieved alive if at all possible. You are to make sure of that.”
Synospis- Captain Slater is successful in making contact with the Swan Song committee.
I must thank Puddin for her help with this story.
Inspector Tetsuro Yoshida reported to the Yokohama Police Department shortly after 7 a.m. Saturday morning. Tetsuro only planned to work a few hours that day, most of which would be spent doing paperwork.
On the way to his office, he saw that Gabrielle had beaten him to work and was sitting in the small cubicle assigned to her.
“Gabrielle-san, can you please join me in the office when you have a chance?”
“Of course, Inspector.”
Gabrielle was in Inspector Yoshida’s office less than two minutes later. The first thing the policeman did was offer her coffee.
“You should take a day off, Gabrielle-san.”
“Thank you for the advice, Inspector. I really have nothing else to do.”
“We all need to rest, to take time for ourselves. It makes us stronger.”
“Then why are you here today?”
“A friend of mine in Hong Kong found out some useful information.”
Gabrielle had her coffee almost to her lips but suddenly stopped. “Oh.”
“Her name is Sylvia Chang. She holds the rank of Chief Inspector in the Hong Kong police. Sylvia and I have known one another almost twenty years. We worked together on a couple of homicide cases a long time ago.”
“What did she have to say?”
“As we previously learned from Agent Concierge, Ripley is supposed to be moving to Hong Kong. Sylvia has verified this for us.”
Gabrielle listened quietly as Inspector Yoshida related to her the meeting that took place between Sylvia Chang and Roger Hyde the day before. “How reliable do you think this information is?””¨
“Very, on a ten point scale I’d say it was an eight or nine. On or around July 25th, Agent Ripley will take up residence in Hong Kong.”
“Inspector what do you think the Swan Song committee should do then?”
“At our next meeting, it will be my advice that we let the Hong Kong police pick up Ripley on arrival in Hong Kong or shortly afterwards.”
“Will they really do that for us?”
“If we put a request in writing for it, I don’t see why not,” Inspector Yoshida said frankly. “I plan to present this to everyone when the next Swan Song meeting is convened.”
There was no Swan Song committee meeting scheduled till July 15th, but Gabrielle tried to convince herself there was hope yet for Tom Slater.
“If Director Williamson gives his approval, I will contact Sylvia again and start making preparations for Ripley’s pickup.”
“Do you really think they can grab Tom?”
“Sylvia was very confident that it could be done and safely.”
Gabrielle couldn’t forget another very confident official. His name? Major Ed Hollins, who Gabrielle last heard was being recalled to the United States as soon as his doctors said he was well enough to travel.
“Gabrielle-san, there is now hope for your friend.”
“Thank you, Inspector, for all you have done. I’m not just doing this for myself, but for a family back in Washington State who have lost too much already.”
“I understand, Gabrielle-san. Now I suggest you take the rest of the weekend off.”
“What am I supposed to do with my time?”
“Take a break, refresh yourself for the time when Ripley is safely back with us. There will be much to do then.”
Gabrielle had to work hard to keep from grinning in front of this male policeman. If Inspector Yoshida only knew what she wanted to do with Tom when they were re-united.
Tom still had to recover from whatever mental breakdown he suffered. “All right Inspector. I will do as you suggest.”
Around ten minutes after Gabrielle left, a female police sergeant dropped a ten page document on Inspector Yoshida’s desk. It was the autopsy report on Ai Toguchi.
The cause of Agent Concierge’s death came as no surprise. Massive bodily trauma the result of a fall from over three hundred feet in the air was the cause of death. The three paragraph summary for the much longer report stated that no drugs were found in Ai Toguchi’s system and her blood alcohol level was normal.
Assistant Coroner Sugimoto highlighted two discoveries in the summary part of her autopsy report. The first was the discovery of human flesh under two of Ai Toguchi’s fingernails. She had struggled with someone before taking the plunge from the Negishi Bay apartment building.
The second discovery that was made were bruises under one of Ai’s armpits. Her fall had broken almost every bone in her body but Assistant Coroner Sugimoto was able to note some subtle differences in the trauma inflicted on Agent Concierge’s body. Like traces of a bruise found under an armpit that didn’t come from the fall, but was caused by a human hand.
It was Hotaru Sugimoto’s opinion that Ai Toguchi had been picked up by someone who placed their hands under at least one of her armpits. This made the leap look less like suicide and more like murder.
Tetsuro put down the report. He believed that Ai Toguchi had been murdered, but proving it and bringing those responsible for the crime to justice was unlikely.
The parents of Shania Williamson purchased a Oceanside home in Bethany Beach Delaware in 1972. When the couple reached age sixty-five, the mother and father transferred ownership to their oldest daughter. That transaction had taken place in 2000.
Now it was 2008 and Shania and her husband Grant were paying a long delayed visit to the house. The three and a half hours it took to travel one-way from or to Washington DC and the demands of Grant’s FBI work, made visits to the house less frequent than Shania would have liked. She loved the less hectic life of Bethany Beach plus the fresh ocean air.
Grant liked the house and Bethany Beach also. They stood in stark contrast to the Baltimore inner city area Grant had grown up in as a child. As a boy, the use of a sail boat on the open ocean would have seemed as alien to him as riding on a camel, but not anymore. Grant loved the sea now and planned to take advantage of a small break from his work and the beautiful mid-July weather being felt along the Atlantic Coast so to go sailing the next two days. He and Shania planned to delay their return to Washington till late Monday morning.
Those plans would soon be ruined. The phone in Grant’s private study had begun to ring. The FBI Deputy Director really had to hustle in order to pick up the phone before his answering machine kicked in.
“Grant Williamson.”
“Sir, my name is Irene Gentry and I’m calling from the communications center of the Hoover Building.”
‘Oh shit,’ was Grant’s immediate reaction. He knew his weekend was about to be ruined.
“All right, Ms. Gentry, why are you calling?”
“I have a communication for you from the director. He requests your presence in his office tomorrow morning at 10 a.m.”
Grant acknowledged the message and then hung up the phone. As soon as he did, he loudly muttered a four letter word. The most likely cause for the FBI Director wanting to see him would be Operation Swan Song.
Their plans for a quiet weekend at Bethany Beach had been destroyed. Grant would have to be up before 5 a.m. to make the ride back to Washington. Due to his status as a Deputy FBI Director, he had both a driver and small security detail.
Grant walked back to kitchen. His wife Shania was preparing a salad.
“Who was that who called?” Shania asked. When her husband didn’t answer immediately, she looked up from the task she was doing. “You have to return to Washington?”
“Yes, I do,” Grant said in a glum tone of voice. Then he shifted gears. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
Tom went to work at Watanabe Trucking around 9 a.m. on Saturday morning. There was some Yakuza work that needed his attention.
The offices were almost entirely empty when Tom arrived. His two secretaries were off and therefore he was unable to ask Suki if she had done the task he had asked of her.
Before coming to work, Tom decided on a Swan Song task he would do that day. He would copy as many of the vital files on Hiromi Sato’s office computer as he could.
Tom didn’t know that the ghost program had been wiped from the computer hard drive two months earlier. He just wanted to get the Swan Song committee all the information they were looking for on the Watanabes.
Not too long after Tom settled in his office, someone knocked on his door. “Come in.”
Akira Sudo entered the room. The Watanabe sharagashira had been informed in the middle of the night that the Osaka trip had been cancelled. “Good morning, Sato-san.”
Unlike his mentor Dai Hashimoto, Akira didn’t give Tom the creeps. “Good morning, Akira-san. You did get the message about today?”
“Yes, Sato-san, I did.”
“Why are you here?”
“Tiger-san asked me to check on your security. This is just a precaution. After seeing you in action on Sunday, I know you are very skilled at protecting yourself.”
“Thank you, Akira-san. Feel free to inspect the offices as much as you like. If you’ll excuse me now, I have work to do.”
“Of course Sato-san. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Just let me have my privacy please.”
Akira Sudo bowed towards Tom before leaving the office.
As soon as Tom was alone again, he stuck a blank CD in the D drive of his computer. There was so much work that needed to be copied, and he almost didn’t know where to start.
‘Just get started,’ Tom told himself before clicking on the first file he would make a copy of.
“Roger,” Guy Chadwick said to Roger Hyde as the two men extended a hand to the other. “It’s been too long.”
“It sure has, Guy. When was the last time we got together?” Roger asked as the handshake ended. Guy’s grip was firmer and more confident than the last time the two men met.
“It would have been three years next month to be precise. Let’s go into my office, we can chat more there.”
As former members of the SAS, Roger and Guy shared a certain camaraderie that comes with serving in that particular part of the British miltary. If either man didn’t have work related things to do, they could have traded war stories for many hours.
“Can I get you anything?” Guy asked once they were in his office. After leaving the SAS, Guy went to work for Hoyt Asset Protection Services. Among the services Hoyt provided to clients, was the recruitment and hiring of bodyguards.
“A beer if you got one.” There was a mini fridge close to Guy’s desk, so he took two Guinness beers out and opened them both, then handed one to Roger.
“To old times,” Guy said.
“To old times and fallen friends.”
Both men took a swig of their beers.
They chatted a little about what mutual acquaintances of theirs were doing these days. While talking, Roger addressed Guy by his first name. The SAS was known for its unusual informality.
Guy Chadwick’s life had changed radically over the last few years, and not just because he retired from the military. Now re-united with his friend for the first time in three years, Roger formed the opinion that the most recent changes had been for the better.
“I called you at home yesterday.”
“Yes, Ruth told me,” Guy said before a smile crept across his face, the smile that marked a man as being very much in love. “She’s my wife. Ruth and I got married January of last year.”
“That’s wonderful and congratulations,” Roger replied. He was genuinely happy for his friend.
“Thanks. After Betsy died, I felt as if my life was in ruins.”
Roger hadn’t been around while Betsy Chadwick was dying of cervical cancer. He did know how devoted the couple was to each other and had heard through friends how devastated Guy had become after his first wife’s passing.
“I’m very happy for you.”
Guy had one more thing to add. “We’re going to have a baby. Ruth is pregnant and due in October.”
Roger congratulated his friend.
Guy talked a few minutes about how he Ruth met and how it was to be married again. She was Chinese and eleven years Guy’s junior. The baby girl the couple would soon be having would be the first child for both parents.
“That is enough about me. What can I do for you?”
“My boss is moving to Hong Kong at the end of the month."
“Still working for Hiromi Sato?”
Roger was ninety-nine percent certain that Guy knew what Hiromi’s real occupation was. Few Japanese bankers are in need of extensive protection “Yes, I am. She’s being demoted by her grandfather.”
“Any idea why?” Guy asked, but then partially answered his own question, “The men in this part of the world have a rotten way of thinking when it comes to women.”
“I know. What is being done to her is just plain dumb. You should have seen the boss in action last weekend.” Roger went on to tell the events of the past Sunday.
“Do you think she’ll be in similar danger here?”
“I don’t know, Guy, but I have to assume yes.”
“She could be in for some Hong Kong trouble. The…..” Guy began to say before Roger cut him off.
“The Golden Dragons? I know the story you’re referring to and it’s all true. Here’s what you don’t know…..”
Roger told Guy about how the Watanabes helped finance some business venture involving the Golden Dragons in 1990 or 1991. Ever since then the two criminal organizations had a business relationship.
“In 1995 two young triad members wanted to conduct some business in Yokohama. Their boss said absolutely no under any circumstances. The two triads disobeyed that order and came to Japan.”
“I presume the Watanabes chopped their legs off not too long after their arrival?”
“Yes, done by Dai Hashimoto himself and the legs were sent back to the head Dragon here in Hong Kong. He wasn’t angered by what Dai had done, but was pleased. It served as a warning to others who worked for him of what could happen if they disobeyed him.”
“Lucky for us they didn’t do the same when we were in the squadron.” Guy said with a chuckle
Roger then told Guy about Hiromi Sato’s job, where she would be living, her day to day routines and any other habits and idiosyncrasies she had. Guy needed to know all of this so to form a picture of what Roger and his employer’s needs were.
“I suppose Mrs. Sato speaks English?”
“Yes and fluently. If you’re wondering about whether she speaks Chinese, I don’t know but I would presume no.”
“That’s good to know. Now, Roger, tell me honestly what Hiromi Sato is like to work for?”
“She’s tough, demanding, doesn’t want me or anyone else who protects her to be too smothering. You can say she likes her elbow room.”
Guy wrote some notes to himself. To protect Hiromi Sato and her home was going to require at least thirty people.
“Don’t get in the car with the boss if you have a heart condition. She likes to drive fast wherever she goes.”
“The Hong Kong police may put a brake to that,” Guy said with a hint of amusement.
“I wish them good luck.”
“Anything else I should know? Likes, dislikes?”
“She hates cigarette smoke. If they can’t wait till the end of a shift, or go out to take a puff, don’t even bother to send them over. The boss will go bloody ballistic if someone pollutes HER air.”
Guy nodded his head. “How about nationalities? Does she have any preference for male bodyguards? Female bodyguards? If Mrs. Sato wanted more than four or five women to do the work you’ve described to me, I would have great difficulty finding them at present.”
“No, anyone is all right as long as they are clean cut, properly dressed, and a professional at their job.”
“Football hooligans won’t do then, I suppose,” Guy said with a chuckle. “All right then, I think we can help you and Mrs. Sato out. Before we get too far, I was going to suggest we order lunch.”
Roger looked at his watch. It was a few minutes before 11:30 and he wasn’t hungry yet.
“I know what you’re thinking. It is still too early. If you want to get food delivered around here when you want it, it is best to order early. If I call now, the food won’t be up till close to one.”
“All right, Guy. Do what you think is best.”
Guy picked up the phone to call a delicatessen located in the basement of the office building.
“I should leave here around two or three,” Tom told Chuck over the phone.
While his wife was at work on that Saturday morning, Chuck went out to play handball with a banker friend of his.
“Don’t wait for me and get yourself some lunch.””¨”¨
”All right, Kimi-chan. I love you.”
“Love you too.” Tom then hung up the phone.
Due to the amount of work, both Yakuza and Swan Song related, that needed to be done, Tom was nowhere near ready to call it quits at Watanabe Trucking. Like Guy Chadwick, he would have lunch brought to the office.
In the meantime, Tom needed to gain access to another computer. At the same time Guy was calling down to the delicatessen, Tom went to look if Ryoji Ishii was still around the office.
“Sato-san,” a weary looking Ryoji said as he rose from his office chair. “Is there something I can assist you with?
“No, Ryoji. I see you are still working today.
“Yes, Sato-san I have much work that needs to be done.”
“It can wait. Go home, Ryoji-san. You are not needed here till Monday.”
Ryoji looked like he was about to protest but quickly reversed himself. “I will do that, Sato-san, thank you.”
Tom needed to get on Ryoji’s computer in order to copy the incriminating documents on it that were related to the murder of Judge Song. He had discovered them back in February but due to Reina Shimizu’s death and his subsequent nervous breakdown, hadn’t yet made a copy of them for the Swan Song committee.
So as to not draw unwanted suspicion to himself, Tom would postpone using Ryoji’s computer till he was almost ready to leave for the day.
Akira Sudo was still around, when Tom came out of Ryoji Ishii’s office. “Was everything satisfactory, Akira-san?”
“Yes, Sato-san, it was. Do you need me for anything else?”
“You couldn’t possibly get me some McDonald’s French fries for lunch?”
“Of course I can, Sato-san. I will do anything you order me to do.”
“Can you also do background checks on these people for me?” Roger asked Guy after he got off the phone
Guy looked at the binder given to Roger by Teresa Wu the day before. “Who did you get this from?”
“Her card is in front. Teresa Wu was her name. I met her up at the house yesterday morning.”
Guy took a few minute to study the business card and the profiles in the binder. “Yes, we can do that also.”
“You won’t ever be bothering my Tom anymore,” Gabrielle Tanaka yelled fiercely with her latest gunshot. Rather than spend lunch time getting nourishment or just goofing off, the FBI agent was at a pistol range in Kawasaki.
By firing her FBI issued Glock 22 handgun, Gabrielle was working off some months of accumulated frustration. Inspector Yoshida was right; she needed to get away from the office even for a short amount of time.
‘He’s alive,’ Gabrielle told herself. ‘Tom just survived Major Hollins and his harebrained Operation Firecracker. You’ll get him out of the Watanabe’s clutches alive. Gabrielle, you have to believe it.’
Gabrielle wanted to believe what she was telling herself. It was the many flaws in Operation Swan Song, and her own shortcomings, that made her pessimistic about Tom Slater’s chance of survival. An already frustrated Gabrielle was also becoming depressed.
It had been Gabrielle’s hope that time on the shooting range would help with the frustration she felt. It did to some slight extent. Every time she took aim, Gabrielle told herself she was shooting at someone who wanted to kill Tom Slater.
For some reason, Gabrielle’s almost laser like aim was a little off that day. She had just scored 471 out of a possible 500. Which is excellent, but not by her standard. Gabrielle’s average score in 2006 was 484. Her lifetime high was 495.
“That was excellent, Tanaka-san,” said the firearms instructor who had been observing Gabrielle since almost the beginning. “You should think about becoming an instructor some day.”
“Thank you, but I like my work,” Gabrielle lied. She then put the Glock down on the ledge and picked up a bottle of mineral water instead. Her arms were exhausted but mentally Gabrielle wanted to go another round.
She would go another round, but first Gabrielle would take a short rest. Her thoughts, as they increasingly did with every passing day, turned to Tom Slater. Where was he then? What was he doing? What could Gabrielle do for him?
Gabrielle wouldn’t be at peace with herself till Tom Slater was safe again. Her greatest fear was it would never happen.
Roger didn’t leave Guy’s office till past 2 p.m. The British bodyguard planned to go apartment hunting next.
“I think we’re done. Is there anything else you or Mrs. Sato need?”
“No, that’s all.”
“She’ll be arriving here in Hong Kong on July 25th?”
“Either that or sometime the weekend after,” Roger replied. July 25th was a Friday. “I will know more in a few days.”
“All right then. She really plans to bring her entire household here from Japan?”
“Yes. They are packing it up as we speak.” Before Roger left for Hong Kong, the packing of Hiromi Sato’s belongings had begun.
“Good luck with Hong Kong customs. They can take bloody forever to release personal goods that are shipped here.”
“If worst comes to worst, the boss will live in a hotel here on the island till her possessions are available.”
“Women can be so particular. If I were Mrs. Sato and had her money, I’d buy all new furniture.”
Roger talked with Guy about the backgrounds of some of the security personnel that were likely to be available to work for Hiromi Sato. Guy had mentioned to his friend that there was a large pool of qualified people looking for work right then.
“What do I owe you?” Roger asked as he reached to take his wallet out.
“Nothing for now, Roger. I know you’re good for it.”
Roger grinned. “My boss is expecting some charge. I’d prefer to put down at least a down payment.”
“All right, Roger. You’ll just have to put up with my slow typing as I prepare you an invoice.”
Ten minutes later the invoice was typed and printed. Then a 500,000 Hong Kong dollar charge was made to the American Express card Roger was told to use for his expenses.
“Now that we’re all done, can I invite you over tonight for dinner?” Guy asked Roger after he had given him the one copy of the invoice and a receipt.
“I have plans. Can we do it when I get back?” Roger asked. He would have to make at least one more trip to Hong Kong in preparation for Hiromi Sato’s arrival.
“Absolutely. Those plans wouldn’t involve Teresa Wu, would they?”
“Yes, they do.”
“Bring her to the house next time you’re here. She and Ruth can get acquainted while we chat about old times.”
“I will do that.”
Five minutes later, Roger was out on a Hong Kong street and trying to hail a cab.
Tom’s last three hours at Watanabe Trucking on Saturday seemed to just fly by. He had so much work that needed focusing on, he almost forgot the time. Only by a inadvertent glance at his computer clock did he discover that the time was past 1 p.m. He still had to get on Ryoji Ishii’s computer before going home for the day.
After clearing his desk of the remaining litter from the McDonald’s lunch brought to him by Akira Sudo, Tom began making preparations for the job that lay ahead of him. When he was he was finished, he left his office.
Bodyguard Kimo was standing exactly opposite from the door that granted entrance to Hiromi Sato’s office. “Is there anything I can get you boss?”
“No, I’m fine,” Tom replied. He paid no heed to Kimo or the two other bodyguards present as he went from his office to Ryoji’s.
The three men paid to protect Hiromi Sato noted where she went to, but didn’t ask why she had done it. That was standard operating procedure for people like Kimo. Hiromi Sato was granddaughter of the Oyabun, still a high ranking member of the Watanabe Yakuza, and generally considered above suspicion.
Hiromi Sato was also Ryoji Ishii’s superior. The bodyguards were likely to conclude she had to have a work related reason to go to her employee’s office.
Getting into Ryoji’s office was the easy part. Bringing in the compact discs needed for the copying of files on the computer there and then taking them back to his office, was the hard part for Tom. Tom decided against bringing her purse or any other bag with her. It may have looked strange if she did.
As soon as he got in the office, Tom pulled up the dress he had on. Taped to both his belly and back, were one compact disc each. Before coming to work that day, Tom had deliberately chosen a large loosely-fitted dress from Hiromi Sato’s extensive wardrobe. That had let him bring the discs into Ryoji’s office without them showing underneath the clothes he had on.
Tom turned on Ryoji’s computer. As soon as the log-in screen appeared, he entered the same password as he used the previous February. A few seconds of worry turned to muted triumph for Tom when the password was accepted and he gained access to the computer.
The next step for Tom was to open the file manager. Ryoji had almost as many work related files on his computer as his boss did. Tom scanned file names for about thirty seconds before he found what he was looking for. Then he pushed the CD rom drive’s eject button, and when it opened up, inserted one of the blank discs he brought with him.
Tom wasn’t the savviest of computer operators. He had undergone computer training in preparation for Operation Swan Song, but what had been taught to him was more confusing than anything else and still was. Now Tom had to just hope he did like the instructor taught him.
While the copies were being made, Tom thought about the actions he just taken. Was he a wimp by hiding the discs the way he did? No, he wasn’t. They were precautions that needed to be taken so Operation Swan Song could be a success, not just to save his own hide.
A hide that protected a soul that had become dirty and contaminated by the business of drugs and murder Tom had to involve himself in as part of his Swan Song duties. He would finish his assignment and do it to the best of his capability. There would be plenty of time for him to heal physically and mentally after the mission was over.
‘Remember Duty, Honor, Country’ Tom thought to himself. His father Stewart Slater had reminded his son of these words plus their meaning before he began the dangerous Swan Song mission.
Tom would do his best to fulfill those words till his mission was complete or he was ordered to abandon it.
So Tom used the female body he had now to accomplish part of his mission. There was nothing wrong with that. He was just using what resources were available to him. Tom thought he had been clever in the way he sneaked the discs by Kimo and the two other bodyguards.
Tom burned eleven files in all; Six to one disc and five to the other. When that task was completed, he then re-taped the discs to his person and left the office. The total length of time spent by Tom in Ryoji Ishii’s office was less than twenty minutes.
When Tom got back to his Negishi Bay apartment, he planned to temporarily store the burned CDs among the extensive music CD collection Hiromi Sato had acquired over the years. Two cases marked Beethoven would hardly draw attention.
“Kimo, tell Yuri I will be returning to the apartment in no more than an hour,” Tom said before he stepped back into his office.
“Yes boss, I will let him know.”
When he got back in the office, Tom decided to check some of the copied files he had just made. All three that he selected to open, came up on his office machine and were readable.
‘Perfect’ Tom thought to himself. Especially when he read the document that pertained to the killing of Judge Song. Ryoji Ishii and three other Watanabe Yakuza members were sure to be prosecuted for murder if the Swan Song committee saw what Tom was looking at right that moment.
Tom felt no sympathy for murderers. For that reason, he still had trouble getting over what he had to do to Reina Shimizu. To finish Swan Song and emerge from it alive, Tom would have to bury the guilt he felt. Would he ever be able to live with what he had done?
Grant Williamson arrived at the office of Robert Mueller, Director of the FBI, at five minutes before ten. A secretary told Grant to take a seat and that the director would be with him shortly.
After a wait of approximately ten minutes, the secretary spoke again. “You may go in now.”
Grant immediately got up from his seat. After taking a moment to check that his tie was straight, he went straight into the office of the FBI Director.
Robert Mueller was seated behind his desk and did not get up to greet Grant. “Have a seat.”
Grant did as he was told. Nothing was said for about half a minute as both men gazed at each other from across the desk. If Grant was reading Director Mueller’s body language right, he swore the FBI chief was conducting a non-verbal evaluation of him.
Then Mueller broke the awkward silence. “Grant, what the fuck has gone wrong with Swan Song?”
“We are having problems at present.”
“Problems!?!” Robert Mueller asked in a disbelieving tone of voice. “Do you know what happened to me yesterday? I had to go over to the State Department to help Condi Rice calm down the Japanese ambassador. The man was livid about the Firecracker mess you conducted last week.”
“Sir, it was…..”
Ӭ
“Grant, I know it was the Army’s show but you’re in overall command of Swan Song. Do I need remind you, that makes you ultimately responsible for every Swan Song move that’s made. Now tell me what is going on?”
The next twenty minutes were painful for Grant. He spent the time detailing the many setbacks Swan Song had undergone over the last year. Starting from the moment Tom Slater took Hiromi Sato’s place.
“Almost from the moment he went into the field, Agent Ripley has been slow in communicating with us. Now we have lost all contact with him.”
“That’s why Operation Firecracker took place?”
“Yes, sir, it is.”
“When was the last time a message was received from Ripley?”
Grant was feeling very uncomfortable right then. He was used to asking the hard questions, not be on the receiving end of them.
“Last February.”
Mueller shook his head in disbelief. “And you only tried communicating now?”
“Yes, sir, but there were reasons for that,” Grant said.
Mueller then asked for a more in depth explanation.
Grant told about the aborted Singapore meeting, the disappearance of Agent Chrysanthemum and the eventual discovery of her body, and lastly Gabrielle’s try at awakening Tom Slater that was codenamed Operation Hornblower, and then explained that the Japanese Defense Ministry’s slowness in approving Firecracker had added even more time, so over four months had passed.
“For some unknown reason Agent Ripley has become un-cooperative,” Grant explained. While blaming others for why Swan Song had turned into a complete mess, he had left out one vital factor. The theory Dr. Wagner had that Tom Slater had suffered some kind of trauma and as a result suffered a mental breakdown.
Mueller noted how Grant liked to parcel out the blame but accept none for himself. If not for political reasons, Grant wouldn’t be working anything more complicated than bank robberies.
“What is your take on why Ripley stopped communicating?” The FBI Director asked. He noted how unhappy Grant looked to be there that day. Mueller was unhappy too, after having been wrung out by the Secretary of State the previous day.
Mueller had deliberately waited till Grant arrived at his beach home before the message was given to him to see the FBI Director early on Saturday morning. It only seemed fair to make Grant Williamson’s weekend just as miserable as the Friday Robert Mueller had just endured.
“I don’t know,” Grant said with a shrug of his shoulders. He wasn’t dumb and knew what the true purpose of that day’s meeting was. The saying, ‘shit rolls down hill’, seemed particularly apt at that moment. “Maybe Ripley has begun to like the life he has now.”
Mueller knew too little about the nuts and bolts of Operation Swan Song to pass definitive judgment on what Grant just said, but his instincts said Ripley hadn’t changed allegiances. Trusted people did turn traitor sometimes and the FBI had seen this happen in its own ranks.
In Ripley’s case, Mueller thought it more likely that the undercover agent had cracked due to the stress of the assignment. Mueller drew this conclusion after reading Tom Slater’s personnel file and a psychological evaluation he had undergone before his being offered the Swan Song assignment. There was nothing in either of these that made it seem likely Ripley had changed sides.
Either stress or combat fatigue was the cause of Ripley becoming un-cooperative. Robert knew combat fatigue can be suffered by even the most experienced of soldiers or marines.
“If Ripley doesn’t survive the mission, will there be enough proof to prosecute these gangsters?”
“The Justice department attorney who I been coordinating with thinks so,” Grant said. Again he had only half the story. American and Japanese prosecutors had both clearly stated any criminal prosecution of Watanabe Yakuza members would be made easier if Tom Slater was available to testify.
Mueller had a busy day in front of him and needed to get to other matters. He had chewed Grant out like he himself had been chewed out by the Secretary of State. Now it was time to give orders.
“Major Edward Hollins is no longer part of the Swan Song committee. Orders were issued this morning recalling him to the United States.”
‘Hopefully that incompetent’s next assignment will be somewhere near the North Pole,’ Grant thought to himself. “Will Major Hollins be replaced?”
“No. The Japanese are now going to run the Swan Song show,” Mueller began to explain. “They have begun training for the arrest phase of the operation.”
“Then what are my duties now?”
“Grant, you are still to oversee the American aspect of the operation. We will want to debrief Agent Ripley when his mission is concluded. That is assuming he survives it.”
“Then we’re to bring Ripley out alive?”
“Yes, Grant. Agent Ripley is to be retrieved alive if at all possible. You are to make sure of that.”
Her face was bloody, her jaw broken and dislocated, her left eye swollen shut. Nevertheless the look in Reina Shimizu’s right eye was still able to communicate. It reminded Tom Slater of an exchange he had just a few months earlier.
“You don’t understand. I want to see my wife and son again.”
“Reina, you will.”
“Promise me you will be more careful. Please.”
“I promise, Reina, to be more careful. I promise you’ll make it out of this alive. You’ll see your wife and son again, I promise.”
Tom Slater then shot Reina twice in the head. The blood, the parts of Reina’s skull, the brain matter, Tom remembered how they were blown every where by the bullets he fired. Why didn’t he destroy his own life instead of Reina’s?
Her face was bloody, her jaw broken and dislocated, her left eye swollen shut. Nevertheless the look in Reina Shimizu’s right eye was still able to communicate. It reminded Tom Slater of an exchange he had just a few months earlier.
“I miss Momoko and Raizo so much.”
“Reina, I promise you’ll see your wife and son next Christmas.”
Tom Slater then shot Reina twice in the head. The first bullet entered Reina’s skull an inch above the right eye whose gaze had penetrated Tom’s soul. He had destroyed the brain that controlled it, but the control it had on Tom continued on.
Visions of Reina and her final moments played over and over in Tom Slater’s head as he tried to sleep on Saturday night. The nightmare was strong, vivid, and kept repeating itself. Eventually, Tom couldn’t take it anymore and suffered another relapse.
It was Hiromi Sato who woke up the next morning next to Charles McBride. While it was Sunday morning, and neither of them were scheduled to work, the alarm clock had been set for 5:00.
“Why are we up so early?” Hiromi asked Chuck after she hit the snooze button.
“Kimi-chan. How did you sleep?” Chuck asked, still slightly groggy as he wrapped an arm around his wife.
“All right. Why are we up so early?” The hold the Hiromi persona had on the body she shared with Tom was tenuous at best. Tom Slater was fighting hard to re-emerge again.
“Don’t you remember? We have plans to go fishing.”
A semi-retired Watanabe sharagashira named Zenji Horita had called the night before. He offered to take Hiromi and Chuck out on the small yacht he owned. Tom Slater, still in control at the time, had said yes.
“The movers will be here all day. You thought we would go out and do something different.”
Hiromi began to become angry again. Her grandfather was pushing her aside. She would not go away without a fight.
“We will go,” Hiromi said to Chuck just before the couple shared a kiss. She needed time to think and the fishing trip may offer her that chance.
To go fishing, Chuck and Hiromi had to go to Zushi. Zushi, a city of almost 60,000 people, lies slightly north of Yokohama. It was a popular place for the wealthy of Kanagawa prefecture and its boat harbor showed it. Many yachts were moored in the city’s marina.
Hiromi and Chuck arrived at the marina just a little bit before 7:30. Zenji Horita was waiting for his guests.
“I am so honored you could join me today Sato-san. Let me help you on board.” Zenji said. He was unusually pale and gaunt looking. His voice wheezed with every syllable he spoke.
Chuck climbed on board after his wife. “Kimi-chan, I think we will have a good time today.”
Zenji showed his guests to two comfortable cabin seats. A young woman Zenji addressed as Erina, asked Hiromi or Chuck if they wanted anything.
“Just some coffee to drink,” Hiromi said. Chuck asked for the same.
“Sato-san, have you ever gone fishing before?” Zenji asked.
“No, I haven’t.” As Hiromi spoke, she could feel the yacht begin to move. They were under way.
“Ah, I think you will like today.”
Zenji was wrong. Hiromi found fishing very boring as the day proceeded. That no fish were biting didn’t help matters. The excitement of a big catch might have prevented Tom from re-emerging.
Just before noon, a slight body shiver marked the moment Tom took control again. He liked fishing, almost as much as Hiromi hated it.
“Everything all right, Kimi-chan?”
“Yes, I am fine.” Nothing was fine, but Tom had to pretend otherwise
“You can sun bathe up front if you want.”
Hiromi had chosen a t-shirt and shorts to wear that day. Underneath them, Tom had a bikini on.
“No, this is fine,” Tom replied.
As he continued to fish, Tom reminded himself of those words again. Duty, Honor, Country. He would use the reminder they provided to stiffen himself and make it through to the end of Operation Swan Song.
Bodyguard Kimo wasn’t on the yacht with his boss. He was instead at the Negishi Bay apartment building and was supervising the people who were packing and moving Hiromi Sato’s belongings.
Dozens of boxes and tagged bubble wrapped furniture were being hauled from the 45th floor to the basement area. Since there was only one freight elevator connecting these two areas of the apartment building, many trips were required. In each instance a trusted Yakuza member was assigned to make sure no tampering took place.
More Yakuza were downstairs to make sure Hiromi Sato’s belongings were protected and treated with great care. That didn’t prevent one worker at Negishi Bay from getting more curious than he was allowed.
“You, go away,” Kimo yelled at Fumahiro Suzuki. The slow witted janitor was loitering too close to Hiromi Sato’s belongings for the Polynesian’s tastes.
Fumahiro jumped at the sound of his name but didn’t back away until Kimo yelled at him again.
“This area is off limits now. Do not come back here till someone says you can.”
Fumahiro slowly began to make a retreat. As he did, Fumahiro mumbled that this was an area of the apartment building he was supposed to keep clean.
Kimo always got the creeps when around Fumahiro. The man’s mannerisms and constant muttering to himself had a way of unnerving him. “This is not the time to clean. Now leave here!”
Fumahiro slowly walked his way back to the basement room he called home. He would make sure not to bother Kimo again.
All Fumahiro wanted to do was again see a possession that belonged to Hiromi Sato. Back in his room, a secret box still contained a pair of stockings that the Watanabe Yakuza Saiko-kamon once wore. From time to time, Fumahiro used the stockings to masturbate.
Fumahiro was always careful when he used the stockings. They were still in almost pristine condition. That is except for the little droplets of blood that were on them. Blood that if subjected to DNA testing would show it belonged to Reina Shimizu.
Keiji Watanabe was at the Negishi Bay apartment building also and was reading a book in his study when he heard a knocking sound come from the door. “Come in.”
Joji Sato, an aide to Keiji Watanabe, entered the room. The first thing he did was to bow to his employer. “Genji Matsuda has asked me to relay a message.”
“And what is the message?”
“Mr. Li has arrived at Narita airport. He should be here in around two hours.”
Keiji nodded his head. “Have Mr. Li shown upstairs as soon as he arrives.”
“Yes, Oyabun-san.”
In another part of Yokohama, Tetsuro and Betty Yoshida were going out for the afternoon. They had plans to attend a baseball game in nearby Kawasaki.
It wasn’t just any baseball game, but one in which Eri Yoshida would pitch in. Eri, who some thought would be the first female to ever play professional baseball in Japan, was Tetsuro and Betty’s niece.
By the time they were seated at the ballpark, Eri had begun to warm up. Tetsuro watched carefully as his niece continued to perfect the knuckleball pitch taught to her by her Uncle. Tetsuro once had dreams to play professional baseball himself but because of family demands, opted to go into the more secure career of law enforcement.
Betty Yoshida had grown up in the United Stated before meeting her husband during a visit to Japan for her paternal grandfather’s funeral. Like Tetsuro, she shared a passion for baseball. As a youth, Betty had been taken to many games by her father.
While Tetsuro expected there to be no Swan Song related business in need of his attention, he still had his Yokohama police issued cell phone turned on. In the meantime he would watch his niece Eri drive batters insane with a pitch some called the hardest to hit in all of baseball.
Roger Hyde had already checked out of the hotel but at the request of Guy Chadwick had remained behind in the lobby.
“Sorry, Roger,” Guy said as he walked up to his friend. “The traffic is worse today than usual.”
“That’s all right, Guy. You said you wished to a little chat with me?”
“Yes, but let’s do it on the way to the airport.”
“How about my rental car?”
“I’ll have Jeff return it for you. He’s waiting outside for us.”
Roger was in Guy’s Saab and on the way to the airport less than five minutes later. Auto traffic on Hong Kong Island seemed very heavy for a weekend.
“Anything in particular going on?” Roger asked.
“Not really. The weather has been dreadful the last few months. I think everyone is just taking advantage of today.”
Roger nodded. It was a warm sunny day in Hong Kong with only a few scattered clouds. “There was something you wanted to show me?”
“I have a folder on the back seat. Can you grab it?”
When traffic slowed again, Roger reached back and grabbed the folder. Guy Chadwick had already done a great deal of work for Roger Hyde and his employer in a very short time.
“Those are profiles of eleven people I printed off for you. Nine men, two women, and they all fit the criteria you gave to me yesterday.
Roger read a few of the profiles as Guy drove him to the airport. “They all look good to me.”
“I thought you would approve. You tell me when, they can go right to work for Mrs. Sato.”
“It won’t be before next week. Can you arrange a time for me to meet with these people? I’d like to explain to them what working for Hiromi Sato would be like.”
“Yes, I can set something up. Do you know when you’ll be coming back here?”
Roger shook his head. “No, but it should be in no more than a week. It will probably be sooner than that.”
“Did you read Miriam’s bio yet?” Guy was referring to Miriam Andrews. She was an Australian-born bodyguard.
“I only glanced at it. What makes her interesting?”
“Miriam used to drive V8 supercars down under. Her driving skills are excellent and she should have no trouble keeping up with Mrs. Sato.”
Roger felt confident that Miriam Andrews would be hired based on what Guy had told him. He was less confident about getting in a car with the former race car driver. The few times Roger had been in a car with Hiromi Sato had rattled his nerves. To go places with Miriam Andrews had to be equally unsettling.
“I got a queer question for you,” Guy said
“Ask anything you want.”
“Mrs. Sato wouldn’t be homophobic, would she?”
“Are you telling me she is gay? Roger asked. Guy said Miriam was a 100% confirmed lesbian and presently living with a female partner. A Chinese woman who was twice her age and who worked as a pharmacist. “No, the boss shouldn’t have a problem with that.”
Guy and Roger were at the Hong Kong airport terminal for Cathay Pacific airlines ten minutes later. After he stopped his Saab at the curb, Guy jumped from his car so in order to take his friend’s one piece of luggage out of the boot.
Roger was quick to get out of the car also. “Thanks, Guy. It was good seeing you again.”
“Same here, Roger. I think we’ll be seeing each other a lot more now.” After shaking Guy’s hand, Roger grabbed his baggage and went inside the airport terminal.
Dai Hashimoto was unusually bluff and cordial as he welcomed Katsuaki Koike, Akira Sudo, and Ryuku Kinjoh into his Yokohama home. For Katsuaki and Ryuku, it was their first ever glance at the Saiko-komon’s home life.
“My wife is away today. Lunch will be ready shortly.”
No Yakuza business was discussed over the very fine lunch which was served by two Philippine girls employed by Dai Hashimoto. Instead any conversation was centered around current events, politics, sports, or Dai bragging about the latest feats of his oldest grandson.
When lunch was over, everyone transferred to Dai’s study. Before they got down to business, Dai told his household manager that they were not to be interrupted.
“Thank you for seeing us today, Hashimoto-san.” Katsuaki was the first to speak.
“Why are you here today?”
“We came to talk about Sato-san.”
“She is moving to Hong Kong soon,” Dai said firmly.
Akira Sudo then spoke. “Yes, we know. With all respect, Tiger-san, we think it would be better if Sato-san remained here.”
Katsuaki and Akira then made the case for the strong need the Watanabe Yakuza still had for the skills of Hiromi Sato. Ryuku Kinjoh decided to stay silent. Dai Hashimoto was very much old school Yakuza and may not take advice from a woman very well.
“I think we all know Sato-san’s value when it comes to finance,” Katsuaki said. “Her financial wisdom I have drawn upon many times for the business we all conduct.”
Dai didn’t verbally express it, but he agreed with Katsuaki’s evaluation of Hiromi Sato. She was a brilliant business manager and financial advisor. Over the last six years he had learned much from her.
Then Akira spoke. “Tiger-san, I do the same. I call up Sato-san all the time asking for her advice.”
“It will be much harder to do this if she were to go to Hong Kong.”
Dai grunted. “The move of Hiromi to her new home has already been decided upon.”
“Yes, but can’t it be postponed or delayed at least?” Katsuaki asked.
“The move is scheduled for two weeks from now.”
Akira and Katsuaki both knew to be temperate in how they spoke to Dai Hashimoto. If they came on too strong, the ruthless Saiko-komon could see it as a challenge to the Watanabe Yakuza leadership.
“We feel this is a dangerous time to be without Sato-san. Look at last Sunday when she came under attack by the gaijin.”
Ryuku spoke up. “Have we learned who was behind the attack on Hiromi-san?”
Dai had been told by Keiji what he had been learned about Sunday’s attack. No restrictions had been placed on the sharing of this information.
“It was a military operation.”
“Military?”
“Yes, that is what the Oyabun’s source said.”
Akira spoke. “If they were military last Sunday, I think that only speaks more highly of how Sato-san handled herself. She was brave and resourceful when outnumbered by dangerous men.”
“She was also very cunning,” Ryuku said.
Again Dai agreed with what was being said to him by a Watanabe sharagashira. Hiromi had been outnumbered and without support, but she used the abilities she had, took advantage of her opponent’s weaknesses, quickly adapted to the tactics used against her and remained calm in the face of danger.
These were all signs of a strong leader. Dai had thought that Hiromi’s leadership was business management related only, until last Sunday. He was beginning to re-think that position.
“Yes, Ryuku-san is right. Sato-san was cunning also. With the exception of Katsuaki, all of us were present last Sunday. In my time with the family, I have seldom seen such bravery.”
“I don’t think we can afford to lose an asset as valuable as Sato-san.” Katsuaki said.
“Business will suffer and we will be weaker without her,” Akira added.
Ryuku spoke up again. “We say this out of concern, Hashimoto-san, and not out of any disloyalty.”
Dai did not think the three sharagashiras in front of him were being disloyal. They were there to express concern about a business decision and were doing it in a respectful fashion.
A man or woman when they become a Yakuza takes part in a ceremony where they pledge their allegiance and loyalty. All four people in the room then had done this and they were all loyal to Keiji Watanabe. Hiromi Sato was deemed loyal to her grandfather, in spite of her not undergoing the ritual Dai, Katsuaki, Ryuku, and Akira had all taken part in.
Loyalty to a Oyabun was much more than an oath. At the same time, respectful disagreement did not mean a Yakuza had broken the vow they had taken.
Ryuku Kinjoh was still speaking. “Hashimoto-san, you are a strong powerful Yakuza leader and very wise. If anyone knows of all the contributions Hiromi-san makes to the family, it is you.”
Dai had slowly grown to respect Hiromi Sato. The dramatic chase of the previous Sunday had deepened that respect many times. Hiromi was no ordinary woman or accountant.
Since the previous Sunday, Dai found himself re-thinking the age-old Yakuza prejudice towards women in the organization. The only reason Keiji Watanabe used for the demotion of his granddaughter was her gender. Was Hiromi’s departure in the best interest of the Watanabe Yakuza?
“If the Oyabun is concerned for Sato-san’s safety, all three of us are willing to work hard to insure no incident like Sunday should happen again,” Akira said.
Dai was sworn to protect Hiromi Sato, but just how much protection was she in need of? Not very much, if last Sunday was proof of her ability.
After Sunday, Dai had begun to think Hiromi Sato would make a dangerous foe. Was her high position in the Watanabe Yakuza a sign of weakness or one of its strengths?
“The decision has been made. Hiromi-san will move to Hong Kong.”
Ryuku, Akira, nor Katsuaki were unwilling to openly challenge Keiji Watanabe’s power as Oyabun unless Dai was willing to throw them his support.
A very uncomfortable air of silence hung over the room for almost two minutes. Only Akira through his many hours spent with his boss, could see that behind the expressionless face he wore, Dai Hashimoto’s mind was fast at work. What the Saiko-komon was contemplating right then, Akira did not know.
The silence was finally broken when Katsuaki brought up the upcoming drug shipment, which started a discussion of the arrangements and other Yakuza business that continued for another thirty minutes.
“Thank you for taking the time to see us today Hashimoto-san,” Akira said at the door to Dai’s home. After an exchange of bows, the two men parted company.
Katsuaki Koike had driven away already but Ryuku Kinjoh was waiting patiently in the front passenger seat of Akira’s white Jaguar, when he hopped in the car alongside her.
“It was worth the try, Ryuku-san,” Akira said as he pulled his car out onto a Yokohama street. “It looks like nothing will prevent Sato-san from leaving us.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Did you listen carefully to what Tiger-san said? Not once did he say he supports Hiromi’s transfer.”
“Very good, Ryuku-san. I too did not hear that.”
“Tiger-san is thinking this over. We should not give up hope.”
Dai Hashimoto was in a contemplative mood as he watched the car containing Akira Sudo and Ryuku Kinjoh pull away. The meeting at his home that day may have marked a turning point for the Watanabe Yakuza.
The Watanabes were in a transition phase. It had begun in 2002-03 with the war against the Inagawa-kai. The old guard of the family had been cleared out and in had come a new generation. They were a confident group of strong efficient leaders who didn’t always adhere to old Yakuza ways.
The way Akira Sudo dealt with Ryuku Kinjoh was one example. The young sharagashira considered his female counterpart an equal. He even feared her, because of the ‘knife incident’. Akira had come away from the experience much wiser. Never underestimate either friend or foe.
Hiromi Sato was part of the new generation. Had Dai Hashimoto and her grandfather underestimated her? The answer to that question could determine the future course of the Watanabe Yakuza.
The future of the Yakuza he worked for mattered to Dai. He wanted the Watanabe Yakuza to remain strong even after his retirement, which was about ten years off. His future and lifestyle plus that of his children and grandchildren were linked to the futures of Akira Sudo, Ryuku Kinjoh, and others.
They could be called the Watanabe new generation. One of whom may be or should be Hiromi Sato.
Keiji Watanabe had taken the duties of Oyabun after the death of his nephew Goro. No election was held, and no debate among the family’s leadership took place as to who should be the new Oyabun. Keiji decided it for himself and no one voiced an objection.
Because of his age, Keiji wouldn’t be Oyabun for long. Then who would succeed him? Should it be one of the elder statesman of the Watanabe Yakuza, like Dai Hashimoto or Hideichi Ishimoto or should be one of the new generation?
As the outgoing Oyabun, Keiji Watanabe would make the decision. By sending Hiromi to Hong Kong, he had displaced the leading new generation candidate.
Could Dai persuade Keiji to reverse himself? Deep down, Dai felt Keiji was right in a way. A woman could not be Oyabun, not because she was incapable of the job but because the family would look weak to others even if that was not true.
Still Dai had come to the conclusion Hiromi should be kept in her present position. Akira and the others were right, she was too valuable to lose. If Keiji decided he was to be the next Oyabun, Dai preferred to have Hiromi Sato nearby for her financial expertise and wise consul on all matters Yakuza.
The question then was: Did Dai want to take a step that would put him in clear opposition to the elderly Oyabun? Such a move would be like an earthquake taking place within the Watanabe Yakuza. Many previously strong leaders in the family would either become damaged or be destroyed completely by such an action. Another Yakuza could use the turmoil to strike the Watanabes. All of this had to be taken into consideration.
For the time being Dai decided to continue to think matters over. During the week he had a meeting scheduled with Hiromi to discuss his investments. He also knew Keiji Watanabe planned to hold a meeting of all the family’s leaders in a few short weeks. He would put the time between now and then to good use.
After seven and a half innings, Eri Yoshida’s team was up by the score of 8-0. Eri had been almost un-hittable through seven innings pitched. She had walked no one and given up just two scratch singles.
Eri had awed the standing room only crowd in attendance that day. A teenage girl had baffled many fine male athletes with her knuckleball pitch.
Tetsuro and Betty Yoshida were going to stay till the final out. Most fans planned to do the same but a small trickle had begun making their way to the exits.
As he watched his niece warm up for the bottom of the eighth, Tetsuro heard the familiar sound of his cell phone going off.
“Can’t they leave us alone just for one day?” Betty asked her husband as he checked who was calling. The phone’s caller ID showed the number as belonging to a member of the Yokohama police.
“Sorry, but I do have to take this,” Tetsuro said before he got up from his seat so as to not disturb other fans and because he was wary of being overheard, even here. He’d take the call beneath the grandstand.
“Yoshida.”
“I am sorry to disturb you, Yoshida-san,” Police Sergeant Shinsuke Endo said. “Senior Detective Toyoda asked me to call you.”
“Why are you calling?”
Shinsuke gave Inspector Yoshida a brief description of an arrest made in Yokohama that morning. A belligerent street drunk named Kosuke Nomura had roughed up two policemen before being subdued.
“That is all very interesting, but why does this concern me?”
“Nomura says he has a message for Knuckler.”
Tetsuro was certain it was a Swan Song related message. Knuckler was his nickname around the Yokohama police department, so obviously at least some members of the underworld might know of it as well, but Knuckler was also his Swan Song name, so a message from Tom might use that name to convey a double meaning.
Toyoda was very professional in his work. He knew where his boss was that day. Only something extremely urgent would have caused him to have Tetsuro notified, which meant Operation Swan Song these days.
“Can you tell me what the message says?”
“No,” Shinsuke replied. “Nomura threatens to destroy the message if anyone but Knuckler tries to interview him. Senior Detective Toyoda told me to ask how long it would be before you can come in.”
Tetsuro looked at his watch. While talking on his cell phone, he had heard strong applause from the crowd on more than three occasions. The game his niece Eri was pitching in may already be in the final inning.
Tetsuro and his wife hadn’t planned to leave the park immediately after the game concluded. They wanted to talk to Eri afterwards and maybe spend some time with her that evening.
Tetsuro would have to modify those plans. “Tell Toyoda-san I will be there in no more than ninety minutes.”
Qing Li of the Golden Dragon triad was shown into Keiji Watanabe’s study shortly after 3 p.m. As he had a return plane reservation for Hong Kong that night, Qing wasted no time with idle chit chat.
“Mr. Watanabe, why did you wish to see me?”
“I would like to settle accounts with the Golden Dragons.”
“Today?” Qing Li was the Uncle of the head dragon, Ka-shing Li, and had many of the same responsibilities in the Golden Dragons that Hiromi Sato had for the Watanabe Yakuza.
“Not today, but very soon. My granddaughter, her name is Hiromi Sato will move to Hong Kong shortly. I would like to have the Golden Dragons guarantee her safety.”
“In return for canceling our last debt owed?”
“Yes, in exchange for that,” Keiji spoke for a few minutes about what exactly were the guarantees he was asking for.
Qing Li was a cautious man. The offer from Keiji Watanabe was very generous, perhaps too so Almost seven million US dollars owed to him by the Golden Dragons would be written off in return for his fairly simple requests.
“Mr. Watanabe can I be allowed to make a phone call?”
“Of course,” Keiji said. A bodyguard came over to escort Qing Li to another room. There he would place his call and be able to speak to his nephew in private.
Qing was back less than fifteen minutes later. “Before my nephew accepts your offer, we want your word that Miss Sato isn’t coming to Hong Kong for business.”
“The only business my granddaughter is coming to your city for is to do banking. Nothing more. I may ask Hiromi to negotiate in my place if your nephew and I have more business to arrange. That is all.”
Qing nodded his head. He knew of Hiromi Sato’s ownership of the East China Commerce Bank. “Very well, I have been told to accept your offer.”
Keiji regained his privacy a few minutes later. He knew the Qing Li and his Uncle very well. They had always honored business deals they entered into with the Watanabe Yakuza. Because of that, Keiji knew the Golden Dragons would honor his requests to take care of his granddaughter.
This arrangement could turn out very badly for Hiromi should her grandfather feel she posed a threat to him. He would not tolerate any opposition to his plans for the Watanabe Yakuza’s future, so taking care of Hiromi might just as easily involve killing her.
“Where is he?” were the first words uttered by Inspector Yoshida after he caught sight of Senior Detective Kichiro Toyoda. Kichiro had to hustle in order to keep up with his police superior. Tetsuro was so excited at the prospect of a break in Operation Swan Song, that he was walking faster than usual.
“He’s in room H3,” Kichiro said as they rounded a corner. “The arrest took place took place at 11:17 this morning….”
Tetsuro suddenly stopped right in the middle of a busy hall way. “I must go to my office for something. Please meet me at the interview room in five minutes.”
Inspector Yoshida used a nearby staircase for the trip to his fourth floor office. Once he arrived, Tetsuro made sure the door was locked before he went straight to a safe in the back left corner of the room. After dialing the combination, he opened the safe door and then removed a small manila envelope. As soon as the safe was closed, Tetsuro hurried out of the office.
Detective Toyoda and a Yokohama patrolman who had a bandaged right hand, were waiting outside interrogation room H3 when Inspector Yoshida arrived. The first thing Kichiro did was introduce the person who made that morning’s arrest. “This is Mokoto Ichiai.”
“Mokoto-san, tell me what happened?”
As Mokoto told his story, Tetsuro gazed at street drunk Kosuke Nomura via a two-way mirror. Nomura was below average looking even for a Japanese homeless person. His clothes were filthy, his beard a week old at least, plus his hair was long and uncombed.
The most important thing Tetsuro noted about Kosuke Nomura, was the envelope he clutched tightly in his left hand.
“All my partner and I were trying to do was to get him out of the middle of the road. He refused,” Mokoto Ichiai said.
“He sat down in the middle of the street?”
“Yes, he did,” Mokoto explained. He then told how when he and his partner tried to move Kosuke Nomura, the man began to fight the two Yokohama patrolman. “That’s when he bit me.”
Tetsuro continued to look at Kosuke with the help of the two-way mirror as Mokoto finished detailing the man’s arrest. ‘How is this man connected to Swan Song or is this just some crazy coincidence?’
“When we began to book him, the envelope was found. Another fight broke out, that’s when he asked for Knuckler. He threatened to tear up the envelope if anyone tried to take it from him.”
Kichiro then spoke. He knew Tetsuro was working on some very secret and sensitive assignment right then. “We probably could have taken the envelope from Nomura-san without it being destroyed but I decided it was best to be cautious.”
“That is all right. Is he drunk now?” Tetsuro asked.
“No, he’s probably more sober now than he has been in years.”
Tetsuro digested this particular bit of information. From past experience he knew a drunk is often more unpredictable when they were dry.
“You won’t believe what we took from him.”
“What’s that?”
“A bottle of scotch,” Mokoto explained. “Not just any scotch but one that costs around 40,000 yen. My brother-in-law, he owns a liquor store and…..”
“I will speak to him now,” Tetsuro said firmly. “In private.”
“He’s fucking dangerous.”
“I’ll be fine. Now please turn off the sound.”
Detective Toyoda complied with the unusual request. Tetsuro then went into the room, closing the door securely behind him.
Kosuke Nomura barely reacted to Inspector Yoshida coming into the room. Instead he spent his time picking at the wall.
“Could you please take a seat?”
“I want my bottle.”
“You will get a bottle, I promise. First, I need you to sit down. Nothing will happen till you do so.”
Kosuke stared at Inspector Yoshida for half a minute. Then he shuffled over to the table at the center of the room and took a seat.
“Good, I will have a bottle brought to you now.”
Inspector Yoshida stepped out of the room for a minute. He immediately gave orders to Patrolman Ichiai. “Go get me a bottle of wine and a pack of beer.”
Little took place till patrolman Ichiai returned. All attempts by Tetsuro to gain answers from Konsuke were rebuffed. He refused to answer questions till a bottle was given to him.
During the wait, Tetsuro opened the envelope he had taken out of his safe. Inside it was a photo of Agent Ripley aka Hiromi Sato. Tetsuro asked if Konsuke had met the woman.
Konsuke refused to answer the question till he got back his bottle.
When the wine bottle was delivered, Tetsuro opened it and poured just a small amount into a paper cup. Konsuke gulped the wine down immediately.
“More.”
“First you must answer my questions. Did you ever meet that woman?”
“No,” Konsuke said with a strong shake of his head. “Never.”
Tetsuro was inclined to believe the street drunk. “You asked for Knuckler.”
“More,” Konsuke said pointing to the bottle Inspector Yoshida kept close to him. Tetsuro poured just a little more into the cup.
“I am Knuckler. What is it that you have for me?”
Konsuke had lived on the streets long enough to not automatically accept any person’s word. He wanted proof, and Inspector Yoshida had a problem. How do you verify a code name?
Tetsuro had another problem as the argument with Konsuke went around in circles. The street drunk wanted more of the wine. If he was given too much, the man may become even less cooperative.
“You can ask around the department. I have many friends here who know I’m Knuckler.”
“How do I know they are not lying?”
“This information is important to me. Please take my word. You will be set free as soon as you give me the envelope.”
“I need proof you’re Knuckler.”
Inspector Yoshida suddenly thought of a way he could prove himself to be Knuckler. It was on his very body. “Do you know the sport of baseball?”
“Of course I do.”
“Knuckler is a nickname for a type of pitcher in baseball.”
“Yes I heard that.”
“I used to play baseball. That is why I’m called Knuckler.”
“That is not proof.”
Inspector Yoshida took his wallet out. He opened it to where he had some family photos. There was one in particular he wanted Konsuke to see. “That is my niece Eri. She is a baseball pitcher. One day she may be good enough to play in the major leagues.”
Konsuke asked to see the photo more closely. Tetsuro handed him his wallet without hesitation. He had to make the man trust him.
“The pitch Eri specializes in throwing is the knuckleball. I helped teach her how to throw it. That is why I’m called Knuckler.”
Tetsuro watched Konsuke nod, and then place the envelope on the table but he kept his hand still lying on top of it, still wary.
“I can go home and get you a magazine article that mentions all of this. Or you can accept my word and in a very short time you will be set free. With the wine I have here and a few other things. I promise all charges will be dropped also.”
Konsuke thought for a few seconds, then he pushed the envelope across to Tetsuro. Its exchange for a bottle of wine was complete.
Tetsuro got up out of his chair and exited the interrogation room. Senior Detective Kichiro Toyoda and patrolman Mokoto Ichiai were still waiting outside.
“See to it that Nomura-san gets a warm meal, shower, shave, the beer that was purchased for him and then he is to be released exactly where he was picked up.”
These orders came as a big shock to the other two members of the Yokohama police. Particularly to Mokoto Ichiai. “He attacked me and my partner.”
“Release him. I will take responsibility.”
“Yes, sir.”
“One more thing, do not speak further about Nomura-san to anyone.”
Tetsuro went straight to his office. He again accessed his safe, placing the photo of Agent Ripley back inside and exchanging it for a document he kept there. The envelope given to him by Konsuke Nomura was still unopened.
Tetsuro wanted it checked for fingerprints to verify the sender if possible. His next stop was to see a forensic person.
“You want me to get fingerprints off this?” Asked a disbelieving forensic technician named Masami Fukuda. The envelope he had been given wasn’t just dirty but soiled almost like it had been touched by human excrement.
“Yes, Fukuda-san, but only on the paper or papers that are inside. Can you do that for me?
“Of course. Please give me some time and space.”
Tetsuro stepped back so Masami Fukuda could go to work freely. As he watched the slow progress being made by the forensic man, he wondered what the letter said.
Was it from Ripley? Was he really back? If so, why had he reacted aggressively to Operation Firecracker a week ago? Could the letter be a fake? Could it be a ploy to fool the Swan Song committee? Inspector Yoshida had many questions for a message that he soon learned was barely a page in length.
“Yes, there are fingerprints,” Masami Fukuda said.
Inspector Yoshida then handed Masami the document he had taken out of his safe. “Please see if they match these.”
As Masami tried to match the two sets of fingerprints, Tetsuro thought over what would have to be done next if it was a message from Ripley. One thing was sure, Inspector Yoshida would not be going home any time soon.
“It’s a match.” Masami Fukuda said five minutes later.
“You’re positive?”
Masami didn’t appreciate his work being questioned. “Yes, would you like to check for yourself?”
“No, thank you,” Tetsuro then took the letter from Masami and began to read it.
The message from Ripley was short but hardly simple in nature. He was once again in communication with the Swan Song committee, said his situation was dangerous at present, and proposed ending his mission but would only do so if ordered.
To be continued in Part Fifteen
Comments
Swan Song
is drawing to a close now, I can see that from everything that is happening in the story. Tom will still have to be wary of Hiromi coming back up and taking over, but I can see the operation coming to an end soon.
I won't comment specifically to avoid spoilers here, but I enjoyed this chapter a lot. Things are coming together, hope is surfacing, and possible redemption for Tom is at hand.
I'll eagerly await the next chapter of this great story. Thank you for sharing it with us, Danielle.
Duty, Honor, Country, Family - Good Stuff!
I'm sucking this up. I'm on the edge of my seat. More please!
With all that's going on, I don't see how Tom/Hiromi will ever make it to Hong Kong. The pot is about to bubble over.
I blame the impending Japanese operation. They're going to muck up everything. I just know it.
This is so very suspenseful and exciting. Please keep up the good work. I'll be anxiously waiting for more.
Thanks! :)
- Terry
Duty, Honor, Country, Family - Part 14
With all that's going on, somebody is gonna get hurt before its over with all of the opposing sides.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine