The Devil's footprint

4

Chifune Tanabu regarded the serried ranks of Kidotai drawn up in full riot and combat gear in the narrow lane and sighed.

In their kendo-like helmets and body armor and shields, it appeared almost as if a company of medieval samurai had invaded suburban Tokyo. They looked truly magnificent.

Unfortunately, seventy-five fine, upstanding members of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department's heavy squad was not exactly what she had in mind when she had called for backup.

The good-looking young – very young – police inspector who was her new liaison with the security unit was carrying his protective streak too far. Evidently, he had not much faith in her ability to look after herself, even though he had been briefed that she was a senior agent in Koancho, the Japanese internal security service, and had dealt with more armed terrorists than he had years in the force.

Well, Japanese men. What else could you expect? Sexism did not even begin to describe it. They did not seem to realize that times were changing. A Japanese woman today did not have to set her sights on becoming an office decoration while waiting for the right salaryman to marry. Some even carried guns, and right now Chifune felt very much like using hers on that well-meaning idiot.

She breathed in and out a few times, resolved to keep her temper under control, checked her automatic, and replaced it in the holster in the small of her back. Her suit jacket hung over it nicely. She looked like an elegant career woman in her mid-thirties, she hoped, since that was exactly what she was supposed to be. Not the kind of threat who might alarm the suspect.

On the other hand, if she arrived at the meeting with seventy-five robocops clanking behind her, even the dumbest contact might suspect something.

Inspector Oga, standing beside Tanabu- san, chuckled to himself quietly, thought there was no physical change of expression on his face except his eyes.

He had first encountered the Koancho agent while acting as bodyguard to the gaijin Fitzduane, and since it had been a notably successful partnership, they had been assigned to continue to work together. People continually underestimated the beautiful and decidedly feminine Chifune, he reflected, and quite a few undesirables were with their ancestors as a result. She looked a mere slip of a thing, but appearances in this case were deceptive. This was one tough and resolute human being. Oga, happily married to a good strong countrywoman though he was, was devoted to her.

Chifune beckoned the Kidotai sub-inspector to come over to her. He was huddled with his sergeants, and there was much saluting as he broke up the semicircle.

She fought to remember his name. She had christened him ‘Apple Cheeks’ for obvious reasons, and that she could recall, but it did not seem quite the right name with which to preface a little lecture. Also, to call him by such a nickname in front of seventy-five macho security police would make him an enemy for life. She had enough problems without adding to them. And they were supposed to be on the same side.

No, a degree of tact was called for, though she would not overdo the pleasantries. This young policeman had to learn. This mission was not riot control, where the main threat was having your armor dented by a brick. Their current targets were terrorist suspects, and that was a serious business. These people could kill you.

"Oga- san," she hissed. "What is…?"

Oga leaned toward her. He was used to this. Chifune rarely forgot anything about a case, but she had a terrible memory when it came to the social conventions. "His men call him Apple Cheeks," he said, "but his real name is Noda."

Chifune raised her eyebrows. "Really, they call him ‘Apple Cheeks’ too? Maybe they are not as dumb as they look."

Oga made a noise that managed to convey the polite disapproval of a concerned colleague both at Chifune's remarks about the Kidotai, and the fact that she was talking near them. Oga rated the unit highly whatever his reservations about any individual officer.

Chifune turned to Oga and flashed her devastating smile in acknowledgment of his protectiveness, then turned serious as Sub-Inspector Noda clanked over to her. She had never seen so much equipment on one man. He looked massive in his helmet, body armor, and webbing, but he was probably a mere shrimp.

Sub-Inspector Noda saluted before Chifune could stop him.

"Sub-Inspector Noda- san," said Chifune formally, her eyes slightly narrowed. She was furious, but it was important to respect his dignity. Chewing out a subordinate in the brutal manner seen so often in American police movies was not the Japanese way unless there was extraordinary provocation.

She continued. "I appreciate your courtesy, Sub-Inspector- san, but behavior which is appropriate in conventional policing is not necessarily practical during an internal security operation. Saluting prioritized targets. The person who is being most saluted is most likely to get shot. These people are not ordinary criminals. They are terrorists, they have firearms, and they use them. You must believe me."

Sub-Inspector Noda- san blushed with embarrassment and then went pale as Chifune's words sank in. He looked like a traffic light changing signals. He most certainly did believe this ogre disguised as a woman as she fixed her gold-flecked eyes on his. "Shshsh… shot, Tanabu- san," he stammered in reaction. "I am sorry. I did not understand."

Chifune began to feel almost sorry for the man. He had been assigned to her to learn, after all, and one had to start somewhere. On the other hand, you did not need formal training to acquire common sense. Mama and Papa Noda had slipped up somewhere. These days no one should be tossed out of the family nest into the police force, of all institutions, without being equipped with some street smarts. Even in lower-crime Tokyo. Low crime, after all, was relative.

"It would appear that you were not properly briefed, Sub-Inspector- san," said Chifune in a mollifying tone. She could feel Oga radiating approval beside her. The sub-inspector's face was being saved. The integrity of the group was being preserved. She was not quite sure how long she could maintain this. She was aware that she had the most unfortunate talent for slipping in a sting at the tail end of a conversation. It was most un-Japanese. Fitzduane had enjoyed it. She missed that man.

"Inspector Oga will fill you in," she said.

Oga was normally a man of few words. This was a longer speech than most, but it was right to the point.

"The senior-agent- san and I are due to meet two members of the Yaibo terrorist group in an apartment about two blocks away in fifteen minutes. They say they want to give themselves up. They have had enough. They think we are staff members of a radio station acting as honest brokers. They say they don't trust the security forces. In this kind of delicate situation, you don't want a highly visible cordon around the block. You leave it to us, but half a dozen of you, heavily armed and in plain clothes, should stay close and we will be in radio contact.

"If things go wrong, it will be surprise, speed, and firepower that will make the difference. And three busloads of uniformed Kidotai do not constitute surprise. Understand?"

Sub-Inspector Kanji Noda snapped to attention. " Hai! Inspectorsan," he replied. His right hand vibrated, but he did not actually salute. There was hope for this young man, Oga thought benevolently. His own sons were growing. Soon enough they would be Noda's age, and Oga hoped they, too, would enter the police force.

There was the slightly muffled whump of an exploding rocket-propelled grenade and then the first bus in the parked Kidotai convoy blew up. Burning fuel and debris showered the narrow street.

A second bus caught fire from the explosion of the first and then sprouted lines of holes as automatic fire swept the narrow street.

An armor-piercing rocket hit Noda's body armor on the left side, plowed right through his body on the diagonal, and exploded just before it exited.

The sub-inspector came apart, as if made from a kit like some medical teaching aid designed to show you what was inside the human body down to the entrails.

" Kuso shite shine! " cursed Oga as he leaped for cover in a doorway. The expletive literally meant ‘shit and then die’ and it came to him with some force that he was not even going to have time for the former if they did not suppress the incoming fire.

He saw Chifune flat on the ground behind their parked car. She would be out of the direct line of fire, he thought with some relief, and then he saw her arm com up and flame spurt from her automatic pistol as she fired half a clip into the lock of the trunk.

The retaining latch blasted away, the trunk flew open, and Chifune jumped to her feet and removed one of the long cases from inside.

She was just turning to throw the case to Oga when another rocket hit the front of the car and blew it backward, hitting her below the waist and knocking her to the ground.

Oga ran for the rifle case, grabbed it, and rolled for the protection of the opposite door. Chifune lay with her legs under the rear of the car, motionless. There was blood coming out of the side of her head.

The weapons case had been designed by Chifune and Oga to protect the weapon inside, but to allow it, when required, to be brought into action as fast as possible. A hundred-round C-Mag was already loaded. Forty-millimeter grenades were tucked into the retaining pouches of a load-bearing belt.

Oga clipped on the belt, slid a grenade into the under-barrel launcher, and closed the breech. He pulled back the cocking handle and an SS109 5.56mm round slid into the chamber.

Chifune was still lying there. As he looked and was about to run out to her, she raised her head and one arm and made a negative sign and pointed upward. He understood immediately.

Two Kidotai came crashing through he doorway, submachine guns in their hands. They had discarded their helmets and leg armor to move faster. Both looked resolute and experienced. A rookie officer did not, fortunately, mean untrained men.

"Sergeant Tomoto reporting, sir," said one man. "The unit have pulled back out of the line of fire. The men are breaking out heavier weapons and then fanning out to encircle these fucks. Reinforcements are on the way. It shouldn't take long."

"Follow me," said Oga, and he was already running up the stairs as he finished speaking. Chifune's tactical sense was almost always sound. They could see very little from ground level with fire being poured down on them. From a flat roof it should be a different story.

But they had to move fast. He knew them. The terrorists would not stick around. By the time the police cordon in place, they would be gone. Ambush and run. Kill and hide. Mankind had been doing it since time began, because it worked. The only solution was to react very, very fast and then lay down some serious counterfire.

The roof was not flat.

Oga swore but did not hesitate. The two Kidotai threw him up into the crawl space and he smashed a hole in the tiles. One of the policemen made it up beside him. The second Kidotai, whose cupped hands had propelled up his colleague, headed off to find a window.

Oga, peering out from between smashed tiles, could see nothing from where he stood. He had thought he was pointing in the right direction, but running up flight after flight of stairs was disorienting.

Automatic fire smashed into the tiles and the Kidotai looking through a hole to his left careered backward. He had taken an entire burst in his head.

Oga thought fast. The Kidotai sergeant's hole in the roof was facing the right way, but looking through it risked receiving exactly the same treatment. That was not the object of the exercise.

He smashed out more tiles and then hauled himself out through the enlarged hole onto the roof. Then he looked down, which was a mistake. There was a nominal parapet at the base of the sloped section in case he slipped, but despite the earthquake regulations, it did not look strong enough to stop a Japanese detective inspector. Even one who had considerable interest in continuing to live.

The tiles were nailed onto a matrix of wooden supports. Most of the thin lateral slats were too light to hold his weight, but every two feet or so there was a stronger beam that looked more reassuring.

He thought of ducking back in and making some foot holes, but then realized there was not time. The people he was after would be gone.

He raised his automatic rifle and fired a burst into the tiles just above where he estimated the top lateral beam ran. The tiles shattered and Oga slung his rifle and levered himself up so that he was supported by the beam but able to look over the ridge. In truth, he was too high. He pulled back and lay at an angle so only what was absolutely necessary was exposed. Unfortunately, that was his head.

He felt scared and vulnerable and was just beginning to regret his enthusiasm when he suddenly saw a figure on a flat roof only two blocks away rise to aim a shoulder-fired RPG over the parapet wall.

The terrorist seemed close enough to touch. Oga felt that the man must notice him any second. They were monitoring the roofline, he knew from the burst of fire that had killed Sergeant Tomoto.

The terrorist with the launcher was intent on lining up his target below. The sergeant had been killed with automatic-weapons fire, so that meant that almost certainly there was at least one other terrorist armed with an automatic weapon on the roof. Or an adjoining roof. Or moving around.

Oga ducked down and unslung his weapon. It came to him that Chifune was lying there helpless below, and then he moved without hesitation, straightening up so that his weight was fully supported on the bar and then bringing the automatic rifle up to his shoulder and firing as soon as the red laser dot came to bear.

Rounds hammered from the flash guard of the Howa and smashed the arm steadying the launcher before hitting home just below the terrorist's throat. He fell backward, already dead, and as he hit the ground his finger was jarred against the trigger.

The rocket blasted out and blew the water-tank housing into the air. The tank inside exploded in a lethal fountain of metal, steam, and water.

A figure scurried out form behind the debris and got up on the parapet, ready to jump across a narrow alley onto an adjoining roof.

There was a split second during which the shot looked possible, but Detective Inspector Oga did not squeeze the trigger.

The think plank beneath his feet had just snapped and he had instantly dropped an unsettling two inches. There was perhaps thirty seconds' pause while the molecules in the thin laths and tiles debated whether they could sustain his weight. Oga did not dare move.

It didn't help. Tiles and laths snapped one after the other as if in syncopation before he came to a bone-jarring halt on the next, thicker lateral support. That might have been enough, except the building had been erected only a few years after World War II when really any grade of material had to do. And the building inspector was a cousin of the second cousin of the builder. And he was connected with the local yakuza clan who just happened to have a load of rather dubious lumber in need of a good home.

The wooden support hesitated, vibrated. And then snapped at a knothole.

Oga was just about to go over the edge when Chifune, her hair matted with blood, appeared through the hole in the roof and grabbed him as he was sailing by. She could well have been pulled down with him, except that the Kidotai held on to her.

As the pair of them were pulled in, Chifune thought more kindly of the brawn of the security police. There were times when she was quite in favor of big strong men. Sexist or otherwise.

The Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department was officially run by the Superintendent General, and he was the man who appeared frequently in the public eye looking authoritative and concerned and dignified and projecting exactly the right public image.

In the Japanese tradition of public image and private reality – " tatamae and honne " – the Tokyo MPD was actually run by the remote and sphinxlike figure of Deputy Superintendent Saburo Enoke, known to one and all within the Tokyo MPD as ‘The Spider.’ Secretly, he was also director of counterterrorism.

The Spider had the social warmth of a well-iced dead tuna in the Ginza fish market, but though not liked, he was respected and, where appropriate, feared. No one knew quite how he did it, but the consensus was that he did an outstanding job with the police department. In Tokyo, the crime rate was a fraction of that in other major cities, and terrorism was regarded as being reasonably well under control. Most hard-core terrorists had fled Japan for the Middle East and elsewhere. Most.

Exceptions did not please the Spider. But the context of some exceptions was – he searched for the right word – complex. Sometimes exceedingly so. There were forces that the Spider could influence and others that were outside his control. Sometimes that meant accommodating interests that he was privately opposed to. This had been such an occasion. But the Spider believed he could operate most effectively by staying within the web, and to ensure that sometimes sacrifices were required.

Neither the Spider's face nor his body language gave any indication at all of his inner thoughts. The Spider's control was legendary. It was also quite unnerving.

Although the Tokyo MPD had a reputation for integrity, Chifune had initially harbored strong doubts about the Spider. It was only during Fitzduane's visit to Tokyo that she had realized that the Deputy Superintendent of Police was not, as she had originally suspected, an inside man for corrupt politicians and organized crime, but instead was, as the gaijin had said, ‘on the side of the angels.’

He did not look like an angel, Chifune reflected. He was very small and somewhat squat and looked almost like a mannequin in his very large and well-padded black leather swivel chair. His tailoring was impeccable but revealed nothing except a sense of order. His one human touch was a penchant for rather elegant designer glasses.

Chifune, on secondment from Koancho, had reported directly to the DSG for over a year. Working with Oga, promoted from sergeant, she had been focused on eliminating the last vestiges of the terrorist group known as Yaibo.

The gaijin, Fitzduane, had created the opportunity by destroying the inner cadre of Yaibo and killing the leader, Reiko Oshima. Since then, it had been mainly a matter of tracking down the small fry – until yesterday.

Yesterday's deliberate ambush, carefully planned and meticulously executed, was more redolent of earlier times when Yaibo had acquired their reputation. They had been the bloodiest terrorist group Japan had ever experienced since the political assassins of the thirties, who had brought the militarists into power, had flourished.

Yaibo had murdered her lover and best friend, Detective Superintendent Aki Adachi. Never a day went by that Chifune did not miss him. She would never forget, nor would she forgive. Her commitment was absolute.

"Tanabu- san," said the Spider quietly, and the effect was like a breeze springing up and beginning to thin out a mist. She might not like what she was about to behold, but she would see.

Chifune nodded respectfully. This was not proving easy for the DSG.

"It has been necessary, Tanabu- san," continued the Spider, "to keep certain information from you despite the fact that it was directly relevant to your work. This view was not mine, but I acceded to it. There were good reasons for this, but I am exceedingly embarrassed. I have your trust, I know, and I feel I have partially betrayed it. It grieves me. It was not appropriate behavior."

"Directly relevant to your work." Yaibo! Thought Chifune. What could it be? She had read every file, interrogated every suspect, checked every computer record on Yaibo, and talked to every cop with specialist knowledge. So what could she have missed?

"You missed nothing," said the Spider. "No one could have been more thorough and more resolute, but these facts were not in the records. It was a policy decision by certain members of the security service. It was felt that it would be better if you were not informed. A confusion of loyalties was suspected."

Fitzduane! thought Chifune. There had been that one night of love before he had returned to Kathleen to marry her. And she had returned to Adachi, who had died so soon afterward. Who had been slaughtered like an animal by Reiko Oshima and her assassins. Her alliance with the gaijin had made her suspect in the eyes of her superiors. Her loyalty should be entirely to Japan, not confused by an affair with a foreigner. It was a traditionalist view but not entirely surprising. It was also a male chauvinist view, and that was profoundly irritating.

But why had the Deputy Superintendent General gone along with this – whatever it was? He knew her. He knew her sense of purpose and her utter commitment. He knew her loyalties. Inwardly she sighed. And she knew the pressures on him and the accommodations he had to make.

She came originally from that very world. Power brokers; manipulators; unspoken agreements; money politics. All tied to organized crime, with its roots in the chaos of the postwar period and the need to have Japan as a bulwark against communism. So the democratic structures set up by the U.S. government of occupation were flawed. Opposing communism came first – but there was a price to be paid. The public image of Japan was now democratic, with structures similar to those of the West. The private reality was infinitely more complex and more dangerous. And the Spider had to work within this world. It was reality.

The Spider looked straight at her. She nodded slightly, and he understood. Now she was ready to be told. There was no gentle way.

"Tanabu- san," he said, "Reiko Oshima is not dead."

Chifune's eyes widened. "But… Sensei, I was there when she was killed, as you know. Fitzduane- san, and Lonsdale- san riddled the helicopter with fire and it exploded over the sea. It was not possible that she could have survived. The aircraft blew apart completely."

"Nevertheless," said the Spider firmly.

Feeling suddenly sick with a terrible premonition, Chifune knew that what he said was true. A hundred questions sprang into her mind.

" Sensei," she said. "How did you hear…?"

The Spider made a gesture to silence her. It was the merest twitch of his arm, but it was enough. He wanted to tell the full story without interruption, and in his own way.

"I have consulted with experts," he said, "as to what may have happened, but, in truth, their opinions are academic, because we know without doubt that she survived.

"The helicopter was low over the water when it was destroyed, and its side doors were open. The theory is that an initial explosion inside the cabin blew her out and into the sea. The after-action reports spoke of multiple explosions. By the time the main explosion occurred, perhaps only a second later, Oshima was almost certainly already in the sea. Alternatively, when she realized that the helicopter was certain to be destroyed, she may have jumped.

"She was picked up by a small fishing boat some hours later. She had disfiguring facial injuries and had minor burns and was exhausted, but she could function. To conceal her survival, she killed all the crew.

"At his point we might have lost track of Oshima completely, except that luck was on our side. Normally, she is extraordinarily secretive and contacts only proven members of the inner circle of her organization. In this case, she was penniless, injured, and on the run, so she headed for the nearest haven, the home of a purported Yaibo sympathizer and right-wing extremist, Shuo Hori. She did not know Hori well, but Yaibo had supplied him with weapons in the past and she had every reason to think that he would be trustworthy.

"As it happened, Hori- san was a deep penetration agent of Koancho and had been in place for many years. His main role was to keep an eye on extremists rather than terrorists. No one dreamed that he would come across a terrorist as significant as Oshima. But he is a resourceful man and he responded well to the challenge of what to do. He took her in and cared for her, and when he got a chance he contacted his superiors.

"Our immediate reaction would normally have been to pick up Oshima and that would have been that," continued the Spider, "but Hori- san saw Oshima's arrival as his big chance to make a mark, the case of a lifetime. He proposed to his control that he befriend Oshima, work his way into her confidence, and thus penetrate the very heart of the terrorist movement.

"Given Oshima's violent record, it was a very risky strategy. Not only was Hori- san personally in danger, but it would mean leaving a known dangerous terrorist loose – and one who almost certainly would want revenge. She had nearly been killed, and many of her group had been destroyed. It seemed unlikely that she would let this pass without a response.

"Hori- san 's proposal was referred to the highest levels, where it was considered for several days. The initial reaction was to reject it, but then it was suggested that it Oshima could be encouraged to flee this country, we would have a chance to learn about Yaibo's international network without putting Japanese citizens and property at risk. Of course, this would only work if Hori- san fled with her."

Silently furious though she was at not having been included in the operation, Chifune could not argue with either its daring or its logic. It was also quite cynical. The unstated corollary of letting Oshima flee was that if Japanese interests were not harmed and, indeed, advanced, it was of no concern that other nationalities might suffer. But such cynicism was not unique to Japanese security. It was fundamental to her trade in every country.

"A complex operation was mounted to make fleeing Japan seem a highly desirable option for Oshima and her new friend. Normally, such an intensive series of raids might have aroused suspicion of Hori- san , but in this case considerable police activity was to be expected. Oshima had been shot and many Yaibo members killed during an attack mounted in the very center of Tokyo. A major response from the authorities was both inevitable and expected. The trick was to bracket Oshima and Hori- san without actually capturing them. Thanks to Hori- san 's information, that is exactly what we were able to do.

"They fled initially to the Middle East, as expected. Oshima has never stayed in one place for too long, so she and Hori- san flitted from Libya to Lebanon and then Syria, and we received much good intelligence. But then there were some unexpected developments. First, she met a renegade American scientist in Libya, Edgar Rheiman, who was on the run from the U.S. authorities, and then a Mexican general, Luis Barragan, arrived on the scene. He was buying arms and recruiting mercenaries to protect his base in the state of Tecuno run by a certain Governor Diego Quintana.

"He found more than he could have hoped for in his wildest dreams. The American scientist, Edgar Rheiman, had some very specialized weapons expertise he was trying to sell, and General Luis Barragan was in the market and had the necessary capital. And to round everything off, Oshima and Barragan became lovers. All of them, including Hori- san, decamped for Mexico and suddenly the operation crossed the line between acceptable risk and out of control. And to make it worse, our agent's ability to communicate from Mexico is very limited."

The Spider paused and sipped his tea, and Chifune understood that it was now acceptable that she should ask questions.

" Sensei, I am not sure I fully understand. What is the significance of this scientist Edgar Rheiman, and why is the operation now no longer acceptable?"

The Spider spoke without emotion for about ten minutes. Chifune's mind raced as she pieced together the elements and assessed the various possible implications. This was not just a case of an operation going wrong. It was a veritable nightmare. It was just horrendous.

She was quite shaken. It then came to her that she was not just receiving a background briefing.

"Tanabu- san," said the Spider quietly, "though the circumstances dictated it, I regret deeply that you were not fully informed earlier. But that is in the past. Now the situation has to be resolved as discreetly as possible." He then told her exactly what he had in mind.

Chifune's heart leaped when Fitzduane's name was mentioned. Then the complexities of the task ahead of her hit home. It was probably the best way to achieve the desired result, but it would be a very difficult operation.

"You may take Inspector Oga with you," said the Spider in conclusion, "and such other sources as you may need will be provided." He indicated a thick file on his desk. "This is the operation file. I think you will find it helpful."

The meeting was at an end. Chifune stood up and bowed respectfully.

The Spider stood up also and returned her bow. This was not the dismissal of an employee but an acknowledgment of a different, stronger relationship.

"Tanabu- san," said the Spider. "You must know that despite appearances, I have never doubted you."

Chifune bowed again and left. She felt drained, exhilarated, awed, and confused. She fought to get control of her feelings. The sight of a sensible, solid, reliable Inspector Oga was like a breath of fresh air.

"Oga- san," she said. "You must practice your already excellent English."

Oga contemplated Chifune's face. It was slightly flushed. There was a mixture of emotions coming from her. Her normal reserve was missing. Whatever had been said by the Spider was rather more than routine. He suspected it might involve the gaijin. He said nothing.

"We are going to America," she said.

"North or South," said Oga lightly.

Chifune's face clouded over as the significance of the mix of Reiko Oshima and Edgar Rheiman hit home. "Probably both," she said grimly, and strode off down the corridor.

Oga, the smile gone from his face, walked after her.