“Sir, may I present Mister Ryan Mitchell,” said the bodyguard, trying to get his boss’ attention.
The white-haired man turned, looked into Mitchell’s blue-gray eyes and then ever so slightly smiled. “Good evening, Mister Mitchell. My name is Taro Satomi, and I am most pleased to meet you.”
Mitchell politely bowed, as did Satomi before offering his hand in greeting. He saw that Satomi had a weary look about him; it was as if the weight of the world was pressing down on the old man’s shoulders.
“Please, take a seat,” said Satomi, indicating a wooden table set with a couple of glasses and bottle of Macallan Scotch. Both men sat down. Satomi reached over and then poured a drink for both men. Mitchell reached over and took a sip of the single-malt Scotch, tasting the rich flavor in his mouth before swallowing it down.
“My compliments, sir,” said Mitchell, “I once read somewhere that a 1949 bottle of Macallans can go for upward of four thousand dollars U.S.”
Satomi smiled. “I just like the taste; besides, I’m not paying for it. The bottle came with the apartment.”
“You have a magnificent apartment with a truly spectacular view.”
“It’s not mine. I asked an old friend from my days in England if I could use his house while he was back home visiting his family.”
“That would explain the two apes standing guard outside. I take it the young man inside the apartment is one of yours.”
“Yes, Kuro has been in my employ for the past two years. He’s a good man and is quite protective of me.”
“A good trait for a bodyguard, but you didn’t invite me halfway around the world to sip Scotch and have a pleasant conversation, now did you, sir.”
“No, Mister Mitchell, I did not. I asked you to meet me here today so we could discuss the ongoing investigation into my daughter’s disappearance.”
Mitchell placed his glass down and looked over into Satomi’s bloodshot, dark brown eyes. “Sir, I’m sorry if there has been a misunderstanding. The instant your daughter was kidnapped, if you can call it that, the matter was taken out of Polaris’ hands. The FBI is conducting the investigation into your daughter’s alleged kidnapping. As you are fully aware, several people were murdered in cold blood. This is a police matter now.”
Satomi took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled. The expression on his face was a mix of concern and shame.
“Mister Mitchell, I understand that the official investigation into my daughter’s disappearance is now with your Federal Bureau of Investigation. Thankfully, the police have not released any information relating to Atsuko’s kidnapping. The press would have hounded me night and day if they knew that her kidnapping was not as it appears to be. What I would like to know is if you and your organization have followed up on the video taken in the park showing my daughter apparently acting in concert with her kidnappers?”
“Sir, I believe General O’Reilly called you that night to explain what had happened. I am sorry if you took that call to mean that we would look for her. Sir, we just don’t have the resources to look around the globe for her. Besides, we have problems of our own to deal with. Two of my people have gone missing in Mongolia.”
Satomi sat up and looked straight at Mitchell. “Where in Mongolia did they go missing?”
“The Gobi Desert,” replied Mitchell, surprised by Satomi’s question.
Satomi wearily shook his head and then took a sip from his glass. “Mister Mitchell, I believe that you are an honorable man and will treat what I am about to tell you with the utmost discretion.”
Mitchell nodded.
“During the war, I was orphaned and sent to live with my uncle. I stayed with him until I was old enough to leave home and attend university. My uncle was from my mother’s side of the family. His last name was Eiji. He came back from the war a broken and bitter man. Even though he was only eighteen years old, he took me into his house and raised me as if I were his own son. What I did not know, and only came to learn after his death, was that he worked guarding a top-secret Japanese Army unit known as Unit 881 on Matua Island. An island that has been considered part of Russia since the end of the war. My uncle never married and died when he was in his early fifties, a sad and lonely man. When I went to clean out his home, I came across several papers that he had hidden away since the end of the war.” Satomi paused to take a sip of Scotch.
Mitchell could see that it pained the proud old man to tell him his family’s deepest-held secrets.
Satomi continued. “I was shocked to see that the papers described secret weapons development and testing during the war. I was appalled to learn that my uncle had been involved in such activities and hid them away in a safe in my home intending to destroy them. However, as time passed, I found that I could not bring myself to destroy them. They were the only things I had in the entire world that had once belonged to a member of my family, so I locked them up and forgot about them. Until one day, I found Atsuko looking at them. She was home from university for the summer and began to ask a lot of questions about the weapons described in the papers. I became very angry with her. I took the papers from her hands and then locked them away. I deeply regretted yelling at her. It was the one and only time that I ever raised my voice to her. Please understand, Mister Mitchell, I am a devout pacifist. The weapons designed by the men on Matua Island represent an evil that I hope has left Japan’s soul. We can never become a nation driven by hatred and war.”
“Did your uncle ever do anything with these plans?”
“No, I do not believe so; I suspect that he took them intending to sell them after the war for whatever reason. However, due to his daily binge drinking, I suspect that my uncle forgot he even had them.”
“Sir, with all due respect, this all very interesting, but I’m not sure what this has to do with your daughter and my missing people.”
Satomi raised his hand slightly. “Please let me finish, Mister Mitchell. Although I never caught her, I was certain that Atsuko had become fascinated with these papers. I had no doubt in my mind that she was secretly looking at them when I was not around, so I changed the combination and refused to share it with her. She was disappointed, but said that she respected my decision. It was then that I knew in my heart that she had made copies. For what purpose, I do not know; foolishly, I didn’t ask her if she had made copies. Instead, I considered the matter closed. Satomi and I have never been close. It is hard to raise a child on your own. It is even harder when you have given your entire adult life to your company. In Japan, especially in the eighties and nineties, it was expected that you would place your business before your family. I have learned to regret that horrible business philosophy and wish I could find a way to make up all the time I lost not being a good father to Satomi. I truly do love my daughter, Mister Mitchell. Please do not doubt that for one second.”
“I don’t, sir.”
“When my daughter disappeared, I had a nagging feeling of betrayal in the back of my mind. When I checked my safe, I found that the original papers were gone… stolen, most likely.”
“By Atsuko before she left to come to the States?” asked Mitchell.
“No, they were taken the night after she was taken by someone who was able to gain access to my house and then open my safe without being detected. That in itself is some accomplishment. To break into my home with every conceivable state of the art surveillance system in working order is almost unbelievable. There is absolutely no record on any of the surveillance devices of a person coming and going from my home other than the missing documents.”
“I take it that you suspect Atsuko of telling whoever was involved where all of the surveillance systems are located in and around your home, so they could avoid detection.”