The big letters “KOREA” leapt off the page. Yes, he thought. Takishi was sending him a signal that the Rolling Stones needed more fodder to enhance the illusion of chaos in the Pacific. Stone looked up, smiled inwardly, and said, “Korea.”
Amazed, everyone turned in Stone’s direction.
“Korea. That’s it. Korea,” he said, shaking his head with the appearance that he had figured it all out.
“How’s that?” Sewell asked.
“The ambassador, you know, Kai,” he said, looking at the president, “came over yesterday with an envoy from Mizuzawa.”
Lantini shifted in his chair and glared at Stone. What’s he doing? Lantini thought. How can Stone be so reckless as to suggest that?
“Why didn’t they ask to see me?” Davis inter-rupted.
“I don’t know,” Stone said. “They probably did not want to bother you and were asking for our assistance in the Philippines and Korea. They’re worried about China and Taiwan, and now they’re getting rumblings from North Korea.”
“They really presented that to you as an issue?” the president asked.
“Yes, sir. It makes sense. North Korea keeps shooting missiles over Japan, and China is always testing in Mongolia or somewhere. So I’m thinking the Japanese government developed these weapons to protect themselves from the growing Chinese and North Korean threats. My guess is that they felt like they had to do it in the Philippines to get around their constitution. You know, article seven—”
“Nine,” Meredith interrupted and wished she had not. McNulty cut a mean gaze her way. Stone looked confused. Another Oscar, baby!
“Anyway. My reasoning,” Stone continued, “is that these ships are sort of a floating weapons storage site, you know, prepositioned stuff, ready to react to some threats. Post-Nine-eleven, it might not be such a bad idea. They’ve got security challenges all around them with China, North Korea, and now this situation in the Philippines. I mean, can we really do it all?” It was a risky strategy, and Fox predictably pounced on the unprotected pawn in the debate.
“Perhaps the flotilla of tanks could be used as a balance of power in the Pacific so that we don’t have to commit sizable U.S. forces there, allowing us to proceed with our levelheaded strategy of removing Saddam Hussein and his weapons of mass destruction from Iraq,” Fox explained.
“Balance of power,” Diamond added.
“Now that makes sense,” McNulty said, finally finding something he wanted to believe.
“So the choice is to deal with the Pacific or invade Iraq? What happened to grand strategy? Why can’t we make it an all-inclusive strategy? Take a look at the Islamic terror threat as a multinational threat, much the way we viewed communism, and develop the equivalent of a containment, or destruction, doctrine that informs our decisions?” Diamond continued, then looked at Stone.
Now that made sense, Meredith thought.
“If the choice is between the two,” Fox said from his back-row seat, “then there is no question that Iraq, with nuclear potential, must be handled promptly.”
Jagger saw that Ronnie Wood was staring at him, wanting him to take the lead and counter Fox.
“Think about how many nukes are in China and North Korea, Saul. There’s as much of a terror nexus there as we might find in Iraq,” Stone said, picking up the ball for Wood.
“But what we are really talking about is some minor revolution in the Philippines. The China and North Korea arguments just don’t hold water.”
Everyone looked at President Davis, who said, “Let’s give it twenty-four hours and see how this plays out.”
Fox slammed back in his chair, his feet dangling above the floor like a schoolchild’s.
Still dodging the bullet, Stone thought. That glider is still hanging in the air, buffeted about a bit, but still hanging, flying, creating events. Real events.
“Mr. President, I recommend that we keep this all tightly under wraps, which will of course preserve our strategic flexibility,” Lantini, the CIA director said.
About time you said something! Stone thought.
“Of course,” Davis replied, smiling at his old friend Bob Stone.
Stone rode back to the Pentagon with Meredith at his side, their legs touching in the back of the limousine. He wondered about her personal life. He glanced at her crossed legs, his mind defaulting to the testosterone instinct of forsaking mind over beauty. Silky panty hose covered her slender thighs. She was beautiful, sitting there looking out the window, watching DC bounce by. Maybe she would be drawn to his power. Yes, maybe that would work, he thought, ogling the naked skin above her neckline.
Besides, he was tired of Ronnie Wood and Keith Richards getting all of the chicks.
Phase IV: Winds of Chance
Chapter 65
Takishi raised his glass to Mizuzawa’s. The expensive crystal chimed like a bell, signaling a new era.
“Wonderful job in Washington,” Mizuzawa said, complimenting Takishi on his joint performance with Kaitachi.
“Thank you, sir,” Takishi said, feeling vindicated for losing Abe and the killing of the Americans. The plan was proceeding nicely.
“As we anticipated,” General Nugama said, also holding a glass of champagne in his hand, “phase one is going smoothly now that we have arranged for the departure of the Americans. Fine job, Takishi.” It was a rare compliment from Nugama. They had strategically fooled the Americans. The demon-stration in the East China Sea had worked.
The three men stood and talked in Mizuzawa’s private garden behind his office. Normally, he did not allow visitors in the area, but it was a special day.
The resurgence of Japan to her rightful place in history had begun. The result of their actions would be no more reliance on the United States for security and no more kowtowing to the American people. The Philippines would provide ample resources for future Japanese domination.
The first order of business was to finish the job in the Philippines. Next would be to bring Taiwan home. What could the Americans do? Economic sanctions would be unrealistic. They would effectively be shutting down one-third of their economy. They would have to continue trading with Japan. Likewise for Europe. No, this was Japan’s moment in the sun. She would rise from the seas like King Neptune, pitchfork in hand, almighty and all-powerful.
But it was a good plan. Stone had bought it totally. First the business about the Chinese and Taiwan. Now we have them thinking about Korea, Mizuzawa thought to himself.
“Hopefully,” Mizuzawa said, smiling, “they will ‘turn another satellite’ for us.” He did his best Robert Stone impersonation. They laughed heartily. Deep and guttural. It was a mean laugh, sinister, low-pitched, and evil.
Their intentions were in sharp contrast to the peaceful surroundings of the garden. The pagoda and bridge rose above them as they stood next to the dark water of the goldfish pond.
“Yes, ‘we need you to change your constitution,’” Takishi said. More laughter.
Then they stopped, noticing Mizuzawa’s eyes, fixated and burning red-hot. His eyelids wrinkled together, like knife slits in his skin. They watched the hatred and emotion well inside him. He was transforming. The moment had come, and he was remembering Nagasaki and Hiroshima. He was remembering MacArthur and his constitution. He was remembering almost sixty years of American domination and control.
“No more!” he yelled, shocking Takishi and Nugama, causing them to step back. “We shall prevail!” he said in a husky voice. He raised his champagne glass high into the air, framed by the bridge and pagoda. Then he crushed it with his bare hand, squeezing the glass to tiny pieces, gashing his skin. Blood ran down his thick arm as he stared at his associates, standing near him, unsure of what to do.