“Good day, Mr. Jordan.”
“Good day, Mr. Suma. I trust you will forgive me for any inconvenience you’ve suffered.”
Suma’s lips compressed in a thin menacing line and he squinted at Jordan through half-closed eyes. “No, Mr. Jordan, I do not forgive you. Please rest assured you will pay a stiff price for my captivity.” Then Suma seemingly dismissed Jordan and poured another cup of tea.
Kern was waiting as Jordan stepped past the armored doors separating the entry hall from the living room. “Have a nice lunch?”
“The food was good but the company was lousy. And you?”
“I listened in while eating in the kitchen. Natalie made me a hamburger.”
“Lucky you.”
“What about our friend?”
“I told him he would be released tomorrow.”
“I heard. Will he remember to pack?”
Jordan smiled. “The thought will be erased during tonight’s interrogation session.”
Kern nodded slowly. “How long do you think we can keep him going?”
“Until we know everything he knows, unlock every secret, every memory in his gray matter.”
“That could take a year or two.” So.
“And after we’ve sucked him dry?”
“What do you mean?”
“We can’t keep him hidden from the world forever. And we’d be cutting our own throats if we set him free and allowed him to return to Japan.”
Jordan stared at Kern without a flicker of change in his expression. “When Suma has no more left to give, Natalie will slip a little something extra into his noodle soup.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. President, but in your Western idiom, my hands are tied.”
The President looked across the cabinet room conference table at the smiling little man with the short- trimmed white hair and defiant brown eyes. He seemed more a military commander of a tough infantry battalion than the political leader of Japan.
Prime Minister Junshiro, who had come to Washington on an official state visit, sat flanked by two of his ministers and five staff aides. The President sat opposite with only his interpreter by his side.
“I’m sorry too, Prime Minister, but if you think you’re simply going to sweep the tragedies of the past weeks under the rug, you’ve got another think coming.”
“My government was not responsible for the alleged actions of Hideki Suma, Ichiro Tsuboi, and Korori Yoshishu. If, as you accuse, they were indeed behind the nuclear bombs that exploded in your State of Wyoming and on the high sea, they acted for their own ends in secret.”
This meeting between the heads of state was not going to be pleasant. Junshiro and his cabinet had stonewalled any investigation and had indignantly reacted as if the Western intelligence services had fabricated the entire tragedy.
The President’s hard stare swept the other side of the table. The Japanese could never negotiate without a committee. “If you would be so kind as to ask your ministers and staff, with the exception of your interpreter, to leave the room, I would be grateful. Considering the delicate nature of our talk, I believe it will prove more beneficial if we hold it in private.”
Junshiro’s face darkened as the request was translated. He clearly did not like what he heard. The President was smiling, but there was no humor in his eyes. “I must ask you to reconsider. I’m certain we can accomplish more with my advisers present.”
“As you can see,” the President replied, gesturing around the kidney-shaped mahogany table, “I have no advisers.”
The Prime Minister was confused, as the President expected. He conversed in rapid-fire Japanese with the men who huddled around him voicing their objections.
The President’s interpreter smiled ever so slightly. “They don’t like it,” he murmured. “It’s not their way of doing business. They think you’re being unreasonable and very undiplomatic.”
“How about barbaric?”
“Only in their tone, Mr. President, only in their tone.”
At last Junshiro turned back to the President. “I must protest this unusual protocol, Mr. President.”
When he heard the translation, the President replied, his voice cold, “I’m through playing games, Prime Minister. Either your people leave or I do.”
After a moment of thought, Junshiro made a deep nod of his head. “As you wish.” Then he motioned his advisers to the door.
After the door closed, the President looked at his interpreter and said, “Translate exactly as I speak, no niceties, no syrup over the harsh words.”
“Understood, sir.”
The President fixed a hard stare on Junshiro. “Now then, Prime Minister, the facts are that you and members of your cabinet were fully aware and informally approved of Suma Industries’ manufacture of a nuclear arsenal. A project funded in part by an underworld organization known as the Gold Dragons. This program in turn led to the Kaiten Project, a hideous international blackmail plan, conceived in secrecy and now veiled by lies and phony denials. You knew of it from the beginning, and yet you condoned it by your silence and nonintervention.”
Once he heard the translation, Junshiro pounded the table with angered indignation. “This is not true, none of it. There is absolutely no foundation for these absurd charges.”
“Information from a variety of intelligence sources leaves little doubt of your involvement. You secretly applauded while known underworld criminals were building what they called the ‘new empire.’ An empire based on economic and nuclear blackmail.”
Junshiro’s face paled, but he said nothing. He saw the handwriting on the wall, and it spelled out political disaster and great loss of face.
The President kept his eyes locked on him. “What we don’t need here is a lot of self-righteous crap. There will always be a basic conflict between American and Japanese interests, but we can’t exist without each other.”
Junshiro recognized that the President had thrown him a rope, and he snatched at it. “What do you propose?”
“To save your nation and your people the shock and shame of scandal, you resign. The trust between your government and mine is shattered. The damage is irreparable. Only a new prime minister and a cabinet of honest, decent people with no connections to your underworld will bring about a renewed state of mutual cooperation between our two countries. Hopefully, we can then work in close partnership to resolve our cultural and economic differences.”
“The event will remain secret?”
“I promise all data on the Dragon Center and the Kaiten Project will remain classified from this end.”
“And if I do not resign?”
The President leaned back and spread his hands. “Then I’d have to predict that Japanese businessmen should prepare for a recession.”
Junshiro came to his feet. “Am I to understand, Mr. President, that you are threatening to close the United States market to all Japanese goods?”
“I don’t have to,” the President answered. His face took on a curious change. The blue eyes lost their glint of anger and assumed a pensive look. “Because if word leaks out that a Japanese nuclear bomb was smuggled into the United States and exploded where the deer and the antelope roam…” He paused for effect. “I doubt seriously the American consumer will look kindly on buying your products ever again.”
76
