"True." Susan lowered her voice. "The Japanese look at our declining military and compare it with their growing forces. Some of the leaders in Tokyo believe the two military powers will soon be equal, except for nuclear capability — and the Japanese are secretly working on their nuclear equalizers."
"I hope you don't take this the wrong way," Steve began, "but I think the Japanese don't know when they're well off."
"Many people don't know when they're well off," Susan replied with a hollow voice. "But let me go back to the end of World War Two."
"Okay."
"The Bushido code demanded that Japan congratulate the U. S. for having the genius to invent the atomic bomb. That's the warriors' way of saving face after they've been beaten into submission. How could a victorious nation refuse a mandatory, Bushido call for congratulations from their battered and defeated enemy?"
He agreed and saw the hurt in her eyes. "It also provides the loser with the option of not being annihilated."
"You hit the nail on the head!" she exclaimed. "Over the hundreds of years of traditional Japanese warfare, it has sometimes taken forty, fifty, sixty, or more years to rebuild to again fight and invade other countries. There were always cries for peace and reform, but the machismo warriors always prevailed — and they will do it again."
Her face reflected the pain she felt. "It's in their blood, and they will surface, regardless of whether it's the age of samurai swords or nuclear weapons. Steve, it's a tradition that is hundreds of years old, and you've seen how traditional the Japanese are. The warriors still believe the Bushido code will carry them to victory or protect them in defeat so they can rebuild to fight again."
"Unfortunately," Steve admitted sadly, "I have a feeling you're right. It's a frightening thought when you see how fast they've reconstituted their military forces."
"Their naval power" — she glanced at the ocean—"is what I'm most concerned about because it forces other nations into an Asian arms race."
Steve thought about the multitude of international problems that had intensified as the U. S. military was downsized and fractured by the fierce debate over force structuring.
"Susan, we know our government should have managed the growth of the Japanese Self-Defense Forces, but they didn't pay attention and Tokyo hoodwinked them."
"You don't have to remind me," she said with a disgruntled look.
"Now that we've gutted our military," Steve went on with a touch of sarcasm, "the Japanese are taking full advantage of the opportunity to build on our weaknesses."
"Why wouldn't they capitalize?" she responded with enough of a smile to be polite. "Our politicians have selective amnesia where the lessons of history are concerned, especially when it's an election year and they're stuffing lots of money in their pockets from Japanese lobbyists."
Chapter 18
Towering more than 12,000 feet, Mount Fuji dominated the horizon as the giant Lockheed C-SB Galaxy turned off the runway and taxied toward the parking ramp at the Air Mobility Command Post. The flight crew was completing their after-landing checklist while the seventy-two members of the special operations forces from Fort Bragg, North Carolina, were gath ering their gear and personal belongings.
The highly trained and uniquely equipped soldiers from the Army's 1st Special Operations Command were trained to deal with insurgency and international terrorism. Being the first ground forces to arrive at Yokota Air Base, the elite troops would be supplemented by their comrades from Fort Lewis, Washington, and Okinawa, Japan. The mission of the combined forces was to protect the air base during the period of heightening tension between Japan and the United States.
After the Galaxy lumbered to a smooth stop on the parking ramp, the engines on the mammoth transport spooled down and a hushed quiet settled over the airfield. The tranquillity was suddenly shattered when a mortar shell arced through the air and exploded next to a C-141B Starlifter parked beside the Galaxy.
Another round ripped through the air as the soldiers scrambled from the upper deck of the C-SB. The impact-fused shell found its mark near the center of the fuselage at the right-wing root. Within a microsecond the detonation process began while the round penetrated the passenger compartment and instantaneously killed thirteen men. The shrapnel and shock wave injured or maimed another thirty-four soldiers as they fought to get out of the smoking aircraft.
A half second later the strategic transport burst into flames as the soldiers scrambled from every exit. The ensuing inferno quickly consumed the aircraft while the firefighters worked feverishly to prevent the flames from reaching other airplanes on the ramp.
Marcus Callaway was quietly dozing when Susan and Steve walked into his private room. He opened one eye and the familiar smile spread across his rugged face. "I thought you guys had gone away and abandoned me."
"No way we would let you off that easy," Susan told him with mock seriousness and handed him a strawberry milk shake. "How are you feeling?"
"Oh, a little weak," he confessed and eagerly took a sip, "but I'm ready to get out of here and go home."
"I'll bet." Steve chuckled.
"Thanks for the shake," Marcus said and sucked on the straw.
Susan winked at Callaway. "I remembered how much you like strawberries."
"Where's your wife?" Steve asked as he walked to the opposite side of the bed.
"She went to get a bite to eat," Marcus answered and then changed the subject. "What's the latest?"
Susan sat down in the chair next to the bed. "The investigation is going slowly, but we're making progress. We'll keep you updated, I promise."
"I appreciate it."
She glanced up at the television mounted on the wall. CNN was on, but Callaway had pressed the mute button on his remote control switch.
"Have you heard the latest news?" Susan asked.
Marcus had indeed seen the live broadcast from Yokota Air Base. "Yes. I guess the attack on the C-5 blew the lid off this latest dispute with Japan. The last report I saw mentioned that one member of the Chukaku-Ha mortar team was killed by our special forces, but his partner got away."
Callaway puffed up his pillow and sat up. "From what I understand, the military believes that the Chukaku-Ha is responsible for the crash at Misawa, the tour bus massacre, and the explosion on the carrier at Yokosuka."
"That's what they're claiming, and there's more," Wickham said and glanced at Callaway's bandaged shoulder. "The White House and Tokyo have opened up with both barrels, and the accusations are flying back and forth. The Marines are guarding our ships at Sasebo and Yokosuka, plus the Third Marine Division and the First Marine Aircraft Wing are gearing up to move out. It looks like the President intends to turn up the heat."
"Yeah." Marcus grimaced when he moved his shoulder. "And I heard that things are popping at Camp Pendleton."
"So I've heard," Wickham said dryly. "Our relations with Japan have really degenerated in the last twenty-four hours, and I suspect it's going to get ugly."
Callaway slid his shake onto the tray over his bed. "This afternoon the White House apparently leaked a rumor about sanctions against the Japanese, and Tokyo fired back with some broadsides of their own."
"They sure did," Susan observed with a look of concern. "We've got a brushfire going on, and I think everyone is reacting too harshly. JAL has stopped flying to Los Angeles and San Francisco, and a spokesman for the Prime Minister said that Japan wasn't going to be pressured by the threat of sanctions or military intervention."
"They've also been saying," Steve added, "that we're going to suffer from their countermeasures and retaliation if we keep pressuring them. So there is definitely an escalating deterioration in relations."