Authors: Lars Teeney
The plane came to a halt and the propeller
sputtered out and slowed. A military policeman approached to open the
side door on the fuselage, and Inoguchi and his detail stepped down from the
aircraft. They were greeted with salutes from awaiting officers. A short man in
khaki fatigues spoke first, “Captain Inoguchi, I’m pleased to see that you have
made it here safely. Admiral Ozawa awaits your company. He has much to discuss
with you. Please follow me.”
The short officer gestured for the group to follow. His hosts walked toward a nondescript, brick office building that served as the Admiral’s headquarters. Inoguchi was escorted to a dojo-like training room. When he walked in, he was presented with an ornate room, with dark wood molding that lined the walls, a light, hardwood floor, covered with soft mats, and practice weapon racks on either side of the room. In the middle of the space were two men squaring off in a mock battle. One man was tall, around six foot seven inches. Both men were clad in padded outfits and face masks, fighting with wooden kendo swords. The tall man stood in a defensive posture with his practice sword held point out. The shorter man lunged for a quick lateral attack with his sword. The tall man side-stepped the attack and with a loud battle cry, brought the practice sword down on the base of the shorter man’s neck. The man received a mock death.
The two stepped back several paces and
bowed to one another. Then, the men removed their face masks. The taller man was
Admiral Ozawa, commander of the Japanese Combined fleet. He approached Captain
Inoguchi, and Inoguchi prompted his detail to stand at attention. They saluted
the Admiral, and he reciprocated. Ozawa signaled for the men to be at ease. The
tension lessened.
“Greetings Captain Inoguchi. I trust your
journey was uneventful,” Admiral Ozawa said, towering over Inoguchi.
“Thank you, Admiral. I am privileged to be
called to your presence. I am eager to learn what we can do to win the Emperor
honor and glory against his enemies,” Captain Inoguchi responded.
“Please, come with me—we shall have some
tea.” Ozawa led Inoguchi into a conjoining tea room and they knelt at a low
table where a uniformed woman brought a lacquered kettle and serving glasses.
She poured the tea in a traditional gesture that had been practiced to
perfection. Admiral Ozawa picked up his cup and took a sip. Inoguchi followed
suit.
“My dear Captain Inoguchi, I have
brought you here to divulge something to you,” Ozawa stated.
“Due tell, Admiral,” Inoguchi said, then tipped his cup to his mouth.
“As you may have known, Rear Admiral Kusanagi had been shot down in his transport plane by an American fighter patrol and the post has remained open ever since,” Ozawa stated.
“I am aware sir. A tragic loss.” Inoguchi
removed his hat as a sign of respect for the dead.
“Well, Inoguchi, I am compelled to raise you up to this vacant rank. With you at the helm of the Musashi it is a natural move for me,” Admiral Ozawa said with a stern face. He always wore a stoic expression, even when he laughed.
“I am honored, and, of course, not worthy of
this esteemed position, sir!” Inoguchi made himself small when he bowed.
“Nonsense, Inoguchi, you will be expected
to take the position. It all fits into my battle plan.” Ozawa was stern and
there was no way around it. His eyes pierced Inoguchi.
“Yes, Admiral, sir. I will serve in this
rank to the utmost of my ability,” Inoguchi confirmed reluctantly.
“Most excellent. Now that this matter is
settled, let me tell you of events shaping up that will soon come to a head,”
Ozawa spoke forebodingly.
“The Americans have been invading our far-flung outposts for quite some time, as you know. Taking each small speck from us, one at a time. The Admiralty thought that they would continue this pattern further south, but their fleet has turned abruptly and are heading for the Marianas Islands. We think that they will strike there next. The Admiralty is convinced that an offensive in this place could check the American advance. We have been given the entire Combined Fleet to use for this end, so you will help me execute our battle plans, from command of the flagship Musashi, in the forward battleship picket line.” Ozawa revealed the nature of the mission.
“Thank you, Admiral, I will strive to live up to your expectations.” Inoguchi would be the first line of defense for the carriers of the Imperial Navy. If they used the Super Battleships as battering rams to clear the way for bomber wings and were supported by aircraft, there may be hope yet.
“Perfect, with the Emperor’s favor you and I will send the American fleet to the bottom of the Pacific. We just might be able to salvage this collapsing empire yet. Now, if you excuse me Inoguchi, I must prepare for a meeting with the Prime Minister Tójó Hideki. He arrives later today and will want a full presentation on our strategy for the upcoming campaign. You may attend since you are here,” Ozawa said as he dismissed Inoguchi. Inoguchi was taken aback by the news of the Prime Minister’s visit. He figured that he would attend the briefing to gauge the leadership’s view of the operation. But, for now he required a shower and supper as he was stale from the long flight to Okinawa.
⍟ ⍟ ⍟
Inoguchi had bathed and enjoyed some time in a sauna to sweat out impurities and tension. His porter had laid out his finest dress uniform for the evening’s reception. Inoguchi dressed and straightened his tie. He had his porter assist with the pinning of metals onto the breast of his uniform. Inoguchi cleaned his spectacles and adjusted his officer’s cap in the mirror. He was now a Rear Admiral in the Imperial Japanese Navy—or what was left of it. The Navy was still a formidable power with a sizable carrier force left in service, and two of the largest battleships ever plunged into the oceans of the Earth. One of which he was in command of, the Musashi.
Captain Inoguchi decided to get some air before spending the evening in a stuffy reception full of pomp and circumstance. He dismissed his porter and exited the building into the late afternoon air. It was mild but, still warm out. The sun was low in the sky and shot red rays across the sky that illuminated the undersides of small, spotted clouds that pockmarked the deep blue. As the sun drew closer to the horizon, its rays diminished in intensity and the reflection on the clouds faded in color. Inoguchi took stock of this portent, then continued his walk around the grounds. Inoguchi spied an incoming plane marked with the Red Sun of the Empire. It was being escorted by a squadron of Zero fighters, that circled overhead as the plane made its landing. He surmised that it was Prime Minister’s plane.
Inoguchi proceeded down to the waterfront. He looked out across the choppy waters to the east. Somewhere over the horizon were the Mariana Islands where he assumed he would meet his fate. Inoguchi recited a small prayer to his Christian god. As he peered out east, darkness was already setting in, and stars were visible in the far sky. The odd Japanese fighter patrol would fly past on their picket routes, leaving contrails in their wake. A perimeter of destroyers lined the horizon, as their profiles faded into the coming darkness.
Inoguchi drew a large breath and held the fresh sea air in his lungs for an extended period, then exhaled. He was not looking forward to the reception tonight. He would rather be aboard his ship than entertaining a politician. But, he was curious to gauge the mood of the leadership, they after all were ultimately in control of the fates of his men—the ones who pulled the strings behind the protective screen that were Inoguchi’s ships. It was in his best interest to see how they decided to utilize his forces.
Inoguchi surmised that the Prime
Minister’s entourage had probably reached the reception hall and had settled
in. He figured he should probably make his way to the reception.
He started back toward Ozawa’s headquarters. When he entered
the main hall, there was a huge assembly of dignitaries and officers sitting
about a long, wooden table. Set out behind the table was a large board clad
with a tactical map of the entire Pacific theater. Markers were pinned plotting
the position of Japanese and American forces throughout the region. In front of
the board, in the middle of the table, sat Prime Minister Tójó Hideki, in a
place of honor. There were a variety of foodstuffs set out for the enjoyment of
the attendees. There was tuna sashimi, served with a dipping sauce of a soy and
wasabi mixture. Ginger put out on the side. A plate of thinly sliced puffer
fish was arranged in a spiral pattern on an adjacent plate. A large pot of
steamed white rice was placed in the middle of the arrangement. Squid bits and
salmon rolls were also on order. A generous amount of sake had been distributed
around the table for consumption.
Admiral Ozawa had arisen from his seat and
stepped up to the tactical board, “Honorable, Prime Minister of our great
nation, Japan, every man here in the Emperor’s navy salutes you! We are very
glad to receive you after your long journey from the homeland. I, Admiral
Ozawa, am pleased to offer you the details of our offensive to prevent the
invasion of the Mariana Island chain,” Ozawa recited his greeting.
“Thank you, thank you, Gentlemen. It is my pleasure to gaze upon the cream of the Japanese Imperial Navy here today. As you may know, the survival of our great mpire rests on your shoulders. You are the bulwark that keep the barbarians at bay. So, it is imperative that your ships hold the line.” The Prime Minister was dressed like an officer of the Imperial Army and adorned with so many medals upon his chest that the right side sagged. His tone seemed insincere to Inoguchi, and he noticed the crooked smile upon his face.
“So, without any further delay, please
continue with your briefing, Admiral Ozawa.” The Prime Minister allowed the
Admiral to continue.
“Yes, Prime Minister Tójó, of course,” the
freakishly tall Admiral replied, “ Allow me to point out the positions of
our fleet relative to the American fleet,” he continued.
He briefed the assembled officers on the
specifics of the upcoming battle to take place in the Mariana Island chain. He
walked them through his hugely ambitious, and high-stakes plan to defeat the
Americans. Ozawa had mentioned Captain Inoguchi and his Musashi battleship as a
key piece of the plan. The Prime Minister did not fail to take notice. Inoguchi
had bowed with respect when the Prime Minister gazed upon him, and he nodded
approvingly. Inoguchi didn’t feel much at that gesture of recognition.
Admiral Ozawa had concluded his briefing and preparing a toast to the Prime Minister and Emperor when an explosion shook the building. It had come from outside. Plaster fell from the ceiling and the wood frame creaked. An air raid siren blared out into the night. Anti-aircraft fire could be heard with guns blazing. Another explosion rocked the building. The Prime Minister’s guard grabbed him and physically carried him down toward an underground shelter, located beneath the building. The Admiral and high-level officers also hurried to the shelter. Inoguchi decided to stay in the reception hall.
Captain Inoguchi watched the carnage unfold from a nearby window. The airstrip had been hit by an American dive bomber, which had destroyed the Prime Minister’s plane. Another bomber had taken out a fuel storage tank that burned with a tower of flames that leaped into the night sky. Several Japanese Zeros had been strafed with machine gun rounds and were out of action. A few Zeros were scrambled into the air and managed to shoot down fleeing American dive-bombers, but by then the raid had petered out and the attack group had broken off.
Inoguchi stood and stared at the aftermath
of wrecked material and aircraft strewn about the base. What a blow to morale
this would cause; to strike when the Prime Minister was visiting the front. The Americans had been lucky—so lucky, that it made Inoguchi think that the Americans were
tipped off about the Prime Minister’s visit. That, or they had cracked Japanese
encryption codes. He thought that the latter was probably more feasible.
Captain Inoguchi would need to convince the High Command to change security
codes. But, that might not be so difficult after tonight’s attack. Inoguchi
stepped out into the night. The air carried the scent of burning petrol and
rubber. He would be anxious to return the carnage to the Americans with his
battleship: the Musashi.
⍟ ⍟ ⍟
Kate had received the brains in the womb when it came to allocating resources. This made her well-suited to the spy game. She had the aptitude and the ruthlessness for the trade. Her brother possessed ruthlessness and a penchant for violence, but he lacked the intellect to be professional. He was a thug in a military parade uniform, while she was presidential material. But, one thing she did share with her brother was the worry that their father would outlive them. Also, with the Second Coming near, she knew she would not rule.
Kate had thought about Arch-Deacon von
Manstein’s request that she monitor Cardinal Zhukov’s communications. von
Manstein had fingered Zhukov as potentially being the mole. She thought it
strange that the two had known each other since childhood and had come up
through the Church together, and that now, right before the B.A.G. von Manstein
would try to bring Zhukov down. He may be right about Zhukov being the mole,
but why would Zhukov jeopardize his place in Heaven this close to the Second
Coming by helping the Apostates? It didn’t add up for her.
Kate viewed the file that the ministry
maintained on Zhukov. His service to the Church had been spotless, and there were
no laws that he had broken. The only thing peculiar about his file was that it
was noted that he had “unusual” sexual appetites, but that was hardly anything
out of the norm for the Church leadership. She couldn’t do anything with this
information; it wasn’t proof of being a traitor.
What of the Reverend Wilhelm? Kate for one
had never been a religious zealot and skipped most of the Reverend’s services,
as many high ranking Regime officials often did. However, the Reverend was the
heart and soul of the nation of New Megiddo. They had built a brand around him
and her existence and prestige had depended upon that brand. How could the
heart of the Church of New Megiddo; the celebrity, ever betray the Church or
the Regime that allowed it to rise. Besides, the supposed Second Coming was
weeks away. It would be the culmination of his work.
What if he didn’t actually believe it was going to happen? What if the Reverend was planning to betray the Regime during the B.A.G., assuming he was the mole? It would be the perfect plan for the Apostates because no one would suspect him. For Kate to even question him she’d have to convince her father to arrange an inquiry. That wasn’t Kate’s style, she didn’t like to answer to her father. She preferred autonomy. Kate had never met the Reverend, and she found it troubling that she did not know his location. Kate ruled him out.
As for the B.A.G. and the Second Coming, she was not ready to die. The Church devout and the Regime die-hards were looking forward to the Second Coming, there was nothing that they looked forward to more than joining their Lord in the afterlife. Kate had a plan to make herself scarce before the event is carried out. As far as she was concerned, once they were all gone she would pick up the pieces and rule what was left. This plan she kept to herself, everything would be business as usual up until the B.A.G.
Kate’s eyes were getting blurry, she shut down her retinal H.U.D. and decided she would head home. She pinged her valet to bring her armored vehicle around to the rear of the ministry building. Kate grabbed her coat, cigarettes, and sidearm and headed for the elevator, down to the sub-basement level, where her vehicle was waiting. Kate entered her vehicle and instructed the valet to drive home.
They had driven for a few miles when she
was pinged on the V.I.P. encrypted channel. It was Graham Wynham trying to
raise her. Kate considered whether to answer or not. The two had never been
particularly close, he always preferred her brother. However, he may have some
crucial information for her.
“Kate Schrubb, you’re looking radiant as
always!” Graham attempted flattery.
“Graham Wynham, what can I do for you?
You’re usually connected at the hip with my brother, for as long as I can
remember,” Kate recalled, wondering what his angle was.
“Yeah, the boys of our two families tend
to stick together. I thought I would contact you because I have recently
learned some information that you might find useful,” Graham offered enticing
details.
“Oh? Do tell. You know I enjoy a bit of
intelligence. It is my trade after all,” Kate welcomed anything, especially
from Graham, because even she did not know much about Graham and his dealings.
“So, I have business out west. Many of my weapons systems and products rely on raw materials from California, and so my supply lines stretch out and travel the trade networks. My employees stop in towns along the route for rest and provisions from time to time,” Graham reported. “Anyway, one of my men had stopped into a roadside tavern for a beverage and shelter for the night. When he had been there for some time, he said that he spied a strange group entering the tavern, and they took a table near my man. The group was well armed, more so than locals would be,” Graham reported.
“Yes, and what value is this information
to me? There are black market smugglers that are well armed there. It’s fairly
common.” Kate was puzzled and impatient.
“It’s not that they were well armed, it’s
what they talked about. My man said the group was tense and that they had spoke
of a ‘Regime mole’ that they had discovered. He said that he heard them say
they had disposed of him, but too late,” Graham laid down the deception.
“If this means what I think it means, then
this is bad. Inquisitor Rodrigo will be quite disturbed to find out his
operative had been discovered by the Apostates. This means we have to work even
harder to uncover the mole in our midst,” Kate sounded worried.
“Really? You think that the Apostates have
infiltrated the Regime?” This is what Graham had been waiting for: a quid pro
quo. She would divulge some information about Regime suspicions on the
Apostate’s mole.
“Yes, in fact, we do. I’ve had my theories in the past, but they were dead ends. However, recently a Church official came to me and said he may have reason to suspect Cardinal Zhukov.” Kate thought she probably said too much, but she thought she could trust Graham.
“Interesting. Such a high-level official of the Church,” Graham pondered.
“Indeed, maybe you could help me with this
query. If you hear anything, in the capital, or out west among your men, please
report it to me as soon as possible,” Kate implored.
“You got it. You’ll be the first one I
come to,” Graham confirmed falsely.
“Well, it was good to hear from you,
Graham. Don’t be a stranger, because my brother is a bad influence!” Kate
chuckled as she delivered the line.
“Yeah, your brother is starting to rub off
on me,” Graham jested.
“Okay, I’m home. I shall talk to you soon.
Kate out.” Kate ended the communication.
Kate was fairly livid. The Inquisitor had
been failing her lately, this close in time to the B.A.G. First a
patrol was wiped out, then an operating base raided, now their mole had been
discovered. Kate was going to lay into the Inquisitor and demand results or his
resignation. Kate wondered when it was that L.O.V.E. had become so ineffective.
She believed it started when they failed to take down the renegade Ranger, who
had disappeared without a trace.
Kate opened a channel to Inquisitor Rodrigo. After some time, he accepted the communication.
“Minister Schrubb, pleasure to hear from
you at such a late hour. What can I do for you?” Rodrigo was insincere.
“You tell me, Inquisitor? Have you any new information you’d like to share?” Kate probed for the truth.
“Why, Minister, I’m not sure as to what
you’d be referring to?” Rodrigo narrowed his eyes. He wondered what sort of
information reached her before it got to him.
“So, you are not aware of what transpired
out west?” Kate mocked.
“Well, Minister, I’m afraid not. But, feel
free to enlighten me. It doesn’t help either of us to keep me in the dark,”
Rodrigo reasoned.
“You’re right, it doesn’t help me one bit
to rely on an Inquisitor who doesn’t inquire. You let such a development go
unnoticed by you. Your fucking mole has been discovered and was killed by the
Apostates!” Kate was furious.
“There must be some mistake Minister.
Surely my Head Ranger Frank would notify—” Rodrigo trailed off, putting
the pieces together for himself.
“Apparently not, Inquisitor. It seems he
intentionally kept you in the dark about this development,” Kate jabbed.
“Yes, Minister, it appears that way,”
Rodrigo agreed. All he could see was the color red.
“Yes, it does. You will rectify this if you want to remain Inquisitor—either take down the Apostates or find their mole. I don’t care what happens first. Your place in Paradise also rides on the result,” Kate threatened.
“Fair enough, Minister. But can I please
ask you something?” Rodrigo pleaded.
“Yes,” Kate was short.
“What is the source of this information?
Is it credible?” Rodrigo inquired.
“Yes. I will not disclose my source, but a
trader near the Great Lake overheard heavily armed men talking about how they
disposed of a government mole.” Kate stated, confidently.
“Interesting. Thank you, Minister.”
Rodrigo seemed perplexed to her.
“Inquisitor, I have another task for you.
I want you to pull out all the stops on Cardinal Zhukov. Investigate every
aspect of the man’s life. He is probably the Apostate’s mole, and I want the
proof!” Kate demanded.
“Yes, Minister. If there is something to
be found I will find it,” Rodrigo placated.
“Good, Kate out.” Kate cut the
communication short. She had hoped she made herself clear just then. Kate
pondered if she should personally take command of L.O.V.E. She had a high
opinion of herself, and took the mindset of the old adage, “If you want
something done right, you have to do it yourself.” But, it was physically
impossible, this close to the B.A.G. and the Second Coming. She had too many
responsibilities to oversee. Kate ran the worst case scenario through her head:
a terrorist attack during the B.A.G., or Apostates hijacking the proceedings.
Kate thought about Zhukov. He was a tough nut to crack. Why were a rag-tag group of Apostates, so well organized and funded? They always seemed to be one step ahead of her organization. She surmised that their mole must be someone close, and with much access. What if it was Rodrigo himself? He had been failing her increasingly as it got closer in time to the B.A.G. There may be a correlation between the two. Maybe she should look into it? She figured it would also be a good idea to surveil the Inquisitor personally.
Kate’s hand began to shake. She had been noticing an increased rate of tremors in her extremities. Was it all the stress she had been under lately? Was it something she’d need to worry about? The philosophy of the Church and the Regime was that everything worldly was transitory and temporary so there was no need to make long-term arrangements—guidelines for the Virtuous to live by. But, for the Regime leaders it was a different story. Control and power called for long-term plans and measures to ensure permanence. Anything less and it would all crumble. It was tough for Kate to live with such a contradiction of philosophy, but then she did not intend to perish in the fires of the Second Coming.
The Regime promised salvation in the afterlife through submission in this life. It sounded like a fair deal, even though they had no proof that they could deliver on the promise of salvation because they had no idea what lay beyond the veil. That’s where the mechanism of faith kicked in. The whole system teetered upon the trust concept that the common folk surrender all worry and rely totally on the Church and Regime to deliver on their promise. No room for question and no room for critical thinking. It was a house of cards, which was poised to collapse. Kate knew it and so did the Regime. And so the End of Days had been moved forward on the calendar. It was time to go out with a bang instead of a whimper.
The valet announced to Kate that they were home. Kate resided on Chesapeake Beach, in a previously affluent neighborhood. In the time since her home had been built the surrounded blocks had been razed to provide a buffer zone for her property. It was a security effort to thwart would-be assassins of the daughter of the President and Minister of State Security. Now she had plenty of living space around her residence. She had planted a veritable orchard in the surrounding land. Kate had quite the green thumb. It was as it should be.
Kate’s residence looked quite like any other affluent beach house from the exterior, but the interior was deceptive. During its construction, the Regime had paid for security measures that made the house a virtual fortress. The house was fitted with armored security shutters that would cover the windows and entrances in the event of an emergency. There were two automated turrets on the front and back of the house. Within the house, connected to the basement was a panic room, equipped with a security control center, and if that failed the last defense measure was an escape tunnel that lead to an underwater docking bay, that housed a personal submersible vehicle. It paid to be born into prominence.
The valet walked around the vehicle and
guided the armored door into the upright position. Kate stepped out and
breathed in the salty sea air.
“Thank you, I’ll be fine now,” Kate
dismissed the valet.
Kate walked around the house to her orchard of trees. She had grown citrus, and mulberry trees. In addition to that, she had an expansive garden with root vegetables such as potatoes, carrots, turnips, and yams. There was also corn, cabbage, and kale. Kate had staff tending her garden as she didn't have the time, but she had initially planted it.
Kate took in the scent of some blossoms from trees in bloom and tooled around the garden. She then continued through the land around her house to the beach. The sand was pure white, and there was a slight breeze in the air. Kate removed her shoes and walked along the beach. The tide was foamy but was tame for this time of year.