"Careful planning," Steve replied and motioned for the driver to pull over.
Wickham gave the shocked and confused man a generous tip and they walked a half block and caught another taxi to take them to the Keio Plaza Hotel.
"Susan," Steve began when the cab pulled into traffic, "we'll brief our people about who was behind the attack at Pearl Harbor, then check out of the hotel. We need to get out of the country and let the heavy hitters in Washington take over."
"I agree with that assessment." She noticed that her hands were trembling.
"Yeah," Steve replied with a grin of embarrassment. "It got a little crazy, but what do you do when the suspect from Hawaii walks into the office next to you… and looks through the glass partition?"
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Susan chided him while she clasped her hands together. "We didn't have any other options, except drawing our weapons and eventually being surrounded by Matsukawa's security personnel."
"Surrounded and shot. Thanks for what you did back there." An odd silence settled between them before she finally spoke. "Your quick thinking saved both of us."
"Well," he responded, "I'd have to describe it as shifting into survival mode."
Susan allowed a tiny smile and grasped his hand. "I think we're a good team."
Steve gently squeezed her hand. "A great team."
They stared into each other's eyes, keeping their warm feelings bottled inside so their collective vulnerability wouldn't show.
Steve finally broke the spell. "When I contact Langley, I'll make arrangements to have the military pick us up at Atsugi, then we'll go to the air base for security reasons."
"Atsugi?"
"It's a U. S. Navy airfield just west of Yokohama. We'll be safe there."
"I still think I'll shoot you," she observed with a quiet laugh, "and save you the trouble of waiting for someone else to put you out of your misery."
Chapter 41
Genshiro Koyama felt light-headed and feared that he might be on the verge of having a major stroke. Small black dots drifted to and fro in his field of vision and his balance was strangely off center. You bastard, he thought as he studied the American President. When your country is bankrupt and the remnants of your carrier battle groups are rusting in storage, Japan will own America.
"Prime Minister Koyama," the President went on with a renewed determination not to taunt the highly respected Japanese leader. "In the best interest of both of our countries and our combined allies and trading partners, we want to help make Japan's military strong enough to be a deterrent to would-be aggressors, yet not a threat to the global balance of power."
Koyama was only half listening to the man he considered to be an incompetent, dangerous fool. The Prime Minister firmly believed that the American President had developed a loud, irritating bark to offset his rubber teeth.
"We are going to increase our protective commitment," the President continued in a calm, relaxed manner, "to ensure that Japan has adequate U. S. military support in Southeast Asia."
Koyama finally found his voice. "I'm afraid you're deluding yourself about making the decisions on how large Japan's military forces are going to be."
The heavy mood, combined with the opposing personalities and tough talk, were threatening to shatter the fragile alliance of the former bitter enemies.
"I wouldn't have made the statement," the President said emphatically, "if I had any doubt about the outcome of the policy I intend to pursue."
The irascible Japanese politician scowled with anger and gave himself time to think. His contempt was further aroused by his indignation at losing face, and the American detected the emotion.
"Japan regained its independence in 1952," Koyama growled, "and we will decide what is in the best interest of our country and military."
The President struggled to hold himself in check. "Prime Minister Koyama, you're going out on a dangerous limb, and it's not all that strong."
Koyama bolted forward in his chair and flared his nostrils. "The days of dancing to the whims of the White House are over," the ruffled Prime Minister spat venomously, "and you better get used to it."
Now it was time for the American to measure his words before he opened his mouth.
"What we're going to have to get used to," the President responded evenly, "is helping each other through difficult times and agreeing to what is in the best interest of the whole world — not just Japan or the United States."
"We will not be dictated to by America," Koyama replied in a low voice, "or by anyone else, for that matter."
"The facts may be distasteful," the President conceded in a voice laced with canned sadness, "but Japan has had a taste of sobriety — a taste of reality, if you will — from the boom days of the eighties to the difficult days of the nineties."
The President fixed Koyama in his stare. "There are certain steps we must take to ease the concerns of our neighbors, and one of the first tasks is a realignment of the Japanese military structure."
The Prime Minister coldly returned the unblinking stare and leaned toward the man who was causing him a great deal of mental anguish and personal humiliation. "We will not reduce our military forces to suit the U. S., and I am not going to discuss the issue."
With his decision announced, Koyama leaned back and shifted in his chair.
Cocking his head to the side, the President gazed at the distant mountains and turned to Koyama. "There isn't an option available to Japan, and I'm confident that the United Nations and world opinion will be on our side.
"As partners," he continued, "we can reduce your active military in an orderly fashion and store much of the inventory to be used as replacements in the future."
The President peacefully folded his hands. "Or we can do it for you… by whatever means are necessary. It's your choice."
The years of Genshiro Koyama's deep-seated antagonism toward America boiled to the surface and overflowed. With fire in his eyes, he fought to control his emotions and keep his anger to himself while he considered the future.
"Ultimately," the Prime Minister spat, "we will prevail — and America will answer to Japan."
Epilogue
Working with the Japanese National Police Agency, FBI investigators were able to interrogate Mishima Takahashi after he confessed his involvement in the assault at Pearl Harbor and the JAL crash landing at Los Angeles International Airport.
The dethroned senior executive also implicated another Matsukawa Corporation top manager who had directed the attacks staged by the Chukaku-Ha terrorist group.
With his face twisted in an agonizing expression of sadness and guilt, Mishima Takahashi voluntarily appeared on Japanese television and admitted his part in the diabolical scheme. Less than three weeks later, Takahashi was sentenced to spend his life in confinement.
In a face-saving gesture, the Matsukawa Corporation paid over 1.8 million yen to each of the passengers and the families of the victims aboard the Star of Honolulu and Japan Air Lines Flight 62. In addition, the company donated the mansion to the state of Hawaii and established a generous scholarship fund at the University of Hawaii.
Using the information they had gained from Mishima Takahashi, FBI agents were able to link Bryce Mellongard and Senator Frank Brazzell, the powerful Chairman of the House Armed Services Committee, to Tadashi Matsukawa.
The tenacious Attorney General shifted into high gear and Washington hummed with investigations and legal wrangling. When the fallout settled around the Beltway, new faces appeared at the helms of the House Appropriations Committee, House Science and Technology Committee, the Committee on Foreign Investment, the House Ways and Means Committee, and the Secretary of Defense was replaced by a retired Army general.