Fully equipped, Lake walked to the rear of the boat and opened the dive gate. He walked off and into the water. He was instantly pressed up against the fender and, like a mountain climber in reverse, he began climbing down, his fingers searching out holds in the surface, his feet pushing him down. It was disorienting work being upside down, but Lake kept his focus close in, using his rising bubbles and the slight curve of the fender to keep himself oriented.
A hundred feet below, Nishin was shivering, sitting in the cold metal interior of the midget sub. It wasn’t just the cold water that was knee deep on the inside that caused his condition. The mummified body of a disemboweled man was directly across from him in the cramped space of the sub. On the body’s chest was the tattoo of the Black Ocean and the dagger still sticking out from his stomach where it had finished its diagonal cut, had a handje carved with Black Ocean symbols.
Nishin had entered the sub through the conning tower, which was simply a double hatch. He’d opened the top hatch to find the inside of the tower flooded and another hatch at his feet. He’d closed the top hatch, then opened the bottom, the water falling inside. He’d carefully lowered himself into the darkened interior. He’d checked the air and found it breathable after all these years. The suicide of the only crewman helped explained that — he had not waited for his air to turn bad.
The inside was small, about eight feet long by four wide and five high and crowded with instruments. The midget subs weren’t designed for comfort and could hold a maximum crew of two. The rear half of the submarine was taken up by the engine. The angle the sub rested at canted everything inside at sixty degrees from horizontal. There were rudimentary controls near the front and two metal seats. There was no window, just a small periscope.
Nishin propped the underwater light on a shelf. He looked around for any record of what had happened. Why had the submarine stopped here and why hadn’t the bomb been detonated? He could see a metal box in the corner near the body that had warnings all over it. He picked it up. There was a metal cover that he opened. A faded red knob rested underneath, set into a long slot. The Japanese word next to the knob said SAFE. The word at the bottom read FIRE. It was the remote detonator for the bomb. There was a dial with a listing of a range frequencies. Nishin closed the cover.
Searching further, Nishin found the ship’s log jammed on top of a metal box next to the body. Opening it, Nishin immediately went to the last entry. Written in shaky Japanese it explained what he had found:
With the guiding hand of the Sun Goddess behind me I have reached the objective as ordered. I was released four kilometers from the target as arranged. The current was as strong as we feared but staying low to the bottom allowed me to arrive at the south tower of the American bridge although it used almost all my battery power as also expected.
I exited through the hatch using the rebreather and secured the submarine to the tower. The bomb is still attached to the submarine and seems to have made the journey intact. I am tempted to use the remote control to detonate the bomb myself. We could see in the 1-24 ‘s periscope the cloud that rose above Hungnam right after we left. We could feel the shock of the explosion in the submarine even though we were many miles distant and submerged. I have no doubt the bomb will destroy the bridge. I would prefer to go further into the harbor and strike at a military target but my orders directed me here.
I do not understand why the primary target of the American fleet was canceled and we were diverted here, but I believe that the Genoysha knows what is best and my wanderings and questioning must stay with me.
I also do not know why I was told not to detonate the bomb; that it would be taken care of by another. What if this other person is delayed or stopped? I am here now. I can do it. But duty must come first. I obey.
I am wet and cold and I will be dead soon. If this is found, please excuse my ramblings. I do not question my orders, but a man who is about to die should be allowed to speak to the paper freely. If you find me, you will know I did my duty as I was ordered to.
However, I know there is another detonator and I believe that this submarine, my body, and all around will cease to exist soon, if the Sun Goddess smiles upon our homeland.
I have no family so to the Society I say my farewells. I will do as I must to end my life. I do not wish to allow the cold or lack of air to kill me. It is not the brave way.
Hatari.
Black Ocean.
Nishin looked up at Hatari. He had committed hara kiri in the traditional manner, pushing the knife in, then slicing across his abdomen. To do it required tremendous strength of will. To do it alone, on the chance that the wound would not be immediately fatal and not having a person acting as second to behead you in that case, took even more courage. Nishin bowed his head toward his long-ago comrade and said a prayer to the Sun Goddess. Then he noticed that there was a folded page further in the log. He turned to it and uncreased the page. In the slant of the characters and’ the angry way the pen had been pressed into the page, Nishin could tell the mood of the man who had written it.
I could not kill myself right away. I wanted to wait, to experience the final moment when the bomb explodes. Yet it has been eight hours since I arrived here. I have been betrayed! I have tried the detonator. It does not work” I opened up the back. It is not functional! Perhaps the frequency they gave me is the wrong one. They did not trust me. Why? Why?
It is as I feared. I had heard rumors that the Genoysha was negotiating with enemies of Japan. With the Russians at least. Maybe with others. What was my purpose in bringing this weapon here if I was not to set it off? That question bothered me as I crossed the ocean and I thought of the second detonator. But I trusted in the Sun Goddess, the Society, and the Genoysha. But I am here now, at the target, with a detonator that cannot work. I have been betrayed!
If you find this, then know that I die alone and I die bravely. Braver then those who sent me here. I curse them!
Nishin read that page, then reread. He looked at the detonator and checked the screws on the back. It was obvious from the way the metal was scratched that it had been opened.
Now it was Nishin’s turn to question his mission. Why had he been sent here to stop the Koreans and then told to do nothing when the Koreans were coming again? Why had the Yakuza turned on him? Why did he have a tracking device inside of him? How did the Yakuza have so much information?
As he sat down against the cold wall of the sub, across from Hatari’s body, Nishin was no longer praying. He was thinking.
Lake came across the body of the diver hooked onto the metal pole. He looked at it for a second, noted the stab wounds, then continued.
A mile and a half to the west of the Golden Gate, the Sullivan and the stealth ship slid by each other less than eight hundred meters apart, neither aware of the other’s presence. On the bridge of the stealth, Araki was watching the small computer screen on his ever-present laptop.
“The reading is weak,” he said. “Distorted.”
The captain of the stealth had tracked homing devices before and was familiar with all the possible readings. “That is because the man you are seeking is underwater.”
“Get me there,” Araki ordered. “Prepare the swimmer delivery vehicle and my dive gear. Now!”
The captain looked at the digits on the clock above the control panels. “Sir, if we are to make—”