by David Liscio
Despite Carrington’s orders, Decker forged ahead at a pace that left the others behind. He passed by the headless body but barely gave it a thought, having seen dozens in his work as a sniper. A bit farther along the trail he came across the other yakuza soldier who had moved at a slower pace and met his death.
In his rush to be first to rescue Hannah, he ignored much of his special-ops and ranger training. Rather than avoid the well-worn route and instead cut through the underbrush, he hustled along the path leading directly to the house and was blown off his feet by a series of small explosive charges.
The blasts left him bewildered and unable to hear. He suddenly had difficulty breathing.
Carrington called out. “Decker. Can you move?”
There was no reply.
“Can you hear me?”
Again, no reply.
Reb handed his rifle to Carrington. “I’ll get him.”
Tanaka opened up with the machine gun, sending clumps of dirt flying just short of where Decker lay immobile. He was inexperienced with the gnarly weapon and had difficulty adjusting the aim.
Carrington spotted the crenel and the protruding machine gun barrel resting on its bi-pod. He fired several heavy rounds from Reb’s .50-cal. sniper rifle that forced Tanaka to take cover. He figured they were mostly lucky shots because he had no sniper training.
Reb luckily spotted the electrified wire that was strung across a leafy tract and snaked into the underbrush. One touch and he’d be toast. He moved more carefully after that, staying off the lesser-used path as well, but it slowed his progress. More loud bursts from the machine gun forced him to pick up speed, knowing it was only a matter of time before one of the deadly rounds found Decker. He needed to get Decker off the trail. The soldier was on his back, legs flailing as though trying to run.
Reb took a deep breath and hustled toward him. A dozen or more rounds from the machine gun tore up the soil. He knew it would be game over if one of the bullets made contact with either of them. He grabbed Decker by the legs and dragged him off the trail, crashing through the underbrush and down an embankment until they reached adequate cover, the divots of churned up grass and packed soil raining upon them.
Decker moaned, thoroughly disoriented. Reb assessed him for wounds. Despite some bruises, lacerations and the obvious loss of hearing, Decker had emerged relatively unscathed. At least that’s what it seemed until Reb saw Decker’s eyes were barely reactive to the bright sunlight, the pupils no longer of equal size. A lump on the right side of his head suggested he had hit the ground hard after the impact of the blast.
“You need to stay right here,” he said, exaggerating the shape of his mouth as he spoke, hoping Decker could read his lips and understand. “Me and Carrington will take out that machine gun.”
Decker pushed him away and tried to stand but toppled to the ground. Reb recognized the effects of concussion and suspected Decker’s eardrums were ruptured, his balance completely racked. “We’ll come back for you. Just stay put.”
Carrington heard the Blue Pacific helicopter buzzing toward the house but the dense foliage overhead made it near impossible to shoot at it. Reb made his way back to Carrington with an update on Decker’s condition and suggested they leave him until the rescue was completed.
Carrington pursed his lips in concern as he handed Reb his rifle. “Let’s see if we can make our way to the east entrance of the house and get through that side door.”
Two kobun were guarding the steel entryway. The door was held ajar by a short length of lumber. One of the bodyguards was speaking into a hand-held radio, the other panning through the sights of what looked like an AR-15 assault rifle. Reb shot the armed man squarely in the forehead. The second kobun tossed his radio and scampered into the house, closing the door behind him. Seconds later, remotely-detonated C-4 claymore mines rigged in the trees turned the terrain into a hailstorm of deadly ball-bearing projectiles. Reb and Carrington flattened out, trying to make themselves into part of the ground until the explosions ceased. If the claymores had been positioned closer to the surface, both men would have been ripped to shreds. Apparently Tanaka had placed them more as a potential warning than a deadly deterrent.
Reb wormed his way toward a rock outcropping that could provide cover in case there were more surprises. Carrington was right behind him, Reb’s boots in his face. They heard and then saw the blue-and-white helicopter approach the house and expertly make a sharp turn before lowering toward the flat rooftop.
44
Frantic Flight
Saipan
Northern Mariana Islands
April 1990
When the shooting quieted, Tanaka returned to the main floor of the house and shouted to Akumu.
“Bring the intriguing but ultimately disappointing Ms. Becker to the roof.”
Hannah’s hands were still lashed behind her back as Akumu nudged her up the stairs. She couldn’t read the expression on Tanaka’s face, but she sensed he was seething inside. Three of his bodyguards stood close by, their eyes fixed on Hannah as they braced for the helicopter’s landing.
Tanaka felt like a fool for thinking the beautiful Argentine travel agent Mariel Becker actually had been interested in him intellectually and, more importantly, physically. Now he wanted to exact revenge and was imagining just how he might do it. One overriding thought swished through his mind: The deceitful bitch deserves to suffer.
The rotor wash from the helicopter as it nimbly set its skids down on the roof forced the three yakuza bodyguards to hold onto their black trilby hats. The pilot switched off the engine and the blades slowed and wobbled but continued to whirl dangerously.
Sadashi aimed his Nambu pistol at the pilot. “Get out, Mr. Whirly Man, but don’t try to run.”
“Where the fuck would I run to, you idiot?”
Sadashi moved the pistol closer. The pilot did as instructed, wary a stranger was about to fatally shoot him. Sadashi hustled out the opposite door and ducked as he ran around the front of the aircraft until he was standing beside the pilot, the pistol pressed into the man’s back.
Tanaka scowled at him disapprovingly. “No need for that. This pilot is helping us. Give me the gun.”
Sadashi hesitated but quickly bowed deeply and handed the pistol to Tanaka. He sensed any hesitation might be construed as insubordination, which would bring an end to his aspirations of becoming one of Tanaka’s trusted yakuza soldiers. It might even translate to the loss of his head, or at very least a finger. Whirly Man seemed momentarily relieved, wiping his sweaty face on the sleeve of his t-shirt.
Tanaka set down the red zippered suitcase near the helicopter and smiled toothily at the pilot. “Thank you for coming. Your payment is enclosed.”
Whirly Man bent and reached for the handle of the luggage but Tanaka stepped between them. “When we are safely back at the airport and I’m getting aboard my jet, you can count your money.”
The pilot didn’t argue. He simply looked disappointed, sensing he might never see the cash.
Tanaka barked at Akumu. “Bring Ms. Mariel Becker forward and put her in the rear of the helicopter.”
Sadashi squeezed Hannah’s arms hard enough to leave bruises as she was pushed into the aircraft’s separate rear compartment and onto the three-passenger bench seat, her wrists still bound behind her.
Akumu watched closely. “Make sure you tie her ankles together. She’s a troublesome bitch.” She tossed Sadashi a length of twine, which he clumsily used to lash Hannah’s ankles, never having learned to tie proper knots.
Hannah lay across the padded bench, attempting to right herself, twisting and turning in an effort to reach a kneeling position. Sadashi made no effort to assist her. He was mesmerized by the blue sundress hiked nearly to her waist and the show of elegant underwear. He attempted to join her on the bench but Akumu yanked him backward by one of his feet.
“My seat.”
Sadashi bristled, confused by Akumu’s pronouncement. He had already decid
ed this was his seat in the rear of the helicopter, where he would guard the important prisoner. It was a place of honor, proof that the powerful Orochi “Big Snake” Tanaka valued and trusted him.
Tanaka maneuvered himself into the rear compartment and settled next to Hannah, purposely resting a hand high up on her bare left thigh as he helped adjust her on the bench seat. He let the struggle between Akumu and Sadashi play out. Akumu would not budge. She blocked the rear door. When Sadashi stepped forward once again, she head-butted him, kicked one of his shins and shoved him aside.
Sadashi knew he was beaten. He cocked his head toward the pilot. “After you, sir.”
Whirly Man again seated himself at the controls with Sadashi beside him in the front passenger seat.
Akumu was about to take the seat on Hannah’s opposite flank when Tanaka’s voice rang out from the compartment’s open door. “Akumu! Bring me the suitcase. Now!”
Akumu had momentarily forgotten about the cash needed for the emergency flight. Ready to obey, she hoisted the red suitcase and pushed it toward Tanaka through the rear door. Suddenly she gasped, wide-eyed, as Tanaka fired two rounds from the Nambu pistol point blank into her chest. It was the price of overstepping her bounds.
Tanaka wrestled the suitcase from Akumu’s dying clutches as she collapsed, a startled expression frozen on her face. The bodyguards seemed mystified but didn’t move or speak. Sadashi smiled as though vindicated by some invisible kami.
Tanaka addressed the pilot. “Start your engine, Mr. Whirly Man, and fly as fast as you can.”
The pilot nervously nodded. The turbine spat repeatedly before it fired. Seconds later, the twin rotor blades began turning slowly, forcing the bodyguards to move out of range. Once airborne, the helicopter ascended to two thousand feet.
Tanaka spoke into the microphone on his headset but received no reply from the pilot. Frustrated, he leaned forward and pounded the metal screen with his hands, trying to attract Whirly Man’s attention.
The pilot flipped a toggle switch to connect Tanaka’s headset and gave the OK sign with his right hand.
“Keep away from the land. I want to be over the ocean.”
The helicopter immediately veered away from the towering cliffs. “Over the water we go.”
Hannah squiggled in her seat. She shouted at Tanaka. “Can you please untie me?”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because there’s nowhere I can go when we’re thousands of feet off the ground.”
Tanaka narrowed his eyes at Hannah who recognized the dangerous intent. “I presume you are with the police, maybe even a member of the American task force that has been causing so much trouble on the island. So tell me, what is your real name?”
“Let me loose and we can talk.”
“I think I like you better just the way you are.”
“If you’re going to keep my hands bound, can I at least have them in front of me?”
Tanaka roughly pushed her down on the bench, holding the Nambu pistol to her head as he slipped a set of plastic handcuffs over her right wrist. His strong grip held her left wrist until it was around her front and lay on her lap. He looped the second handcuff and pulled it so tight, Hannah cried out.
Tanaka smiled, pleased with himself. “My apologies. So sorry.”
Hannah tried to push down on the fabric of her dress so that it covered more of her upper thighs, but the hem was short and unforgiving.
Tanaka ignored the dilemma and lovingly stroked her thighs, running his fingers to the rim of her underwear. Hannah pressed her legs together.
Tanaka was emboldened by her resistance. “I was hoping we could be friends, but apparently that was not in the cards. It seems I have drawn an unlucky hand — maybe 8-9-3. I’m over the limit.”
“I don’t know who you think I am. I confronted your servant Akumu after she murdered Krill, who seemed like a very decent woman. I would have done the same for anyone.”
Tanaka roared. “Krill was a traitor. Another thief.”
“I don’t know anything about that. I do know she didn’t deserve to die. She had a young daughter. Now what’s going to happen to her?”
Tanaka shrugged to show his indifference.
Hannah puffed out a deep breath. “What did I do to offend you?”
“You’re a liar,” he bellowed. “Everything you have said and done since the first time I met you was a lie.”
Tanaka unbuckled his seatbelt, turned toward Hannah and crawled atop her. He was convinced the black rhino powder was making him virile.
“Get off me!”
“Not until I get what I want.”
Sadashi squirmed in the front seat, cursing the steel mesh that confined him to the front compartment and obscured his view. He was eager to witness his boss rape this beautiful Haole woman.
Hannah shrieked as Tanaka groped her breasts, squeezing them painfully. He pressed himself upon her, grabbed hold of her hair and held it down against the bench. When he tried kissing her neck and ears, Hannah bit him in the face, drawing blood from just beneath the left eye.
Furious, Tanaka hung his headset on a hook behind the pilot’s seat, untied the twine holding Hannah’s ankles together and pushed down his trousers. But he was unable to get an erection.
Hannah gambled a laugh. “Looks like some of your parts aren’t working.”
Tanaka grunted and punched her in the face. When she laughed again, he struck her repeatedly. He was completely unnerved. He climbed atop her, crushing her with his weight, and reached for the headset.
“Whirly Man. Do you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“I want you to slow down.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
The helicopter’s forward speed dropped off as the pilot steered back toward the island. “Reducing air speed.”
“Now hover.”
“That will spend a lot of fuel, which we don’t have.”
“Just do it.”
The helicopter slowed to a crawl. Tanaka flipped the latch on the rear door and tried to push it open. When he raised his body in an effort to reach the door and apply more pressure, Hannah used all of her strength to push him off.
Tanaka groaned as his body rolled on its side. He searched blindly for the Nambu pistol, clutching the barrel as Hannah kicked him repeatedly in the stomach and chest. With the pistol gripped and his finger on the trigger, he pointed at Hannah, but the angle was off, making any round fired potentially suicidal in the helicopter. She felt for the tiny razor blade that was hidden beneath the false silicone scar on her thigh, merely inches from where Tanaka’s fingers had explored. Her fingernails dug at the edge of the raised scar until the razor was in her hand.
Tanaka wrapped her in a bear hug and began pulling her toward the open door. The wind that initially rushed into the compartment had diminished once the helicopter began to hover.
“Sayonara, Ms. Becker,” he said, flashing his toothy smile and laughing madly as he nudged her closer to the open door.
Sadashi’s had turned in his seat. His face was pressed hard against the steel mesh, his buck teeth snarled.
Hannah cut the plastic handcuffs and reached for the stainless-steel ballpoint pen tucked into the fabric of her dress. It was one of the items Carrington insisted she always carry. She wildly kicked her feet as Tanaka tried to tighten the bear hug.
Tanaka’s rage increased. He again pointed the gun at Hannah who grabbed his wrist. The pistol fired, sending a bullet harmlessly out the door. Hannah slammed Tanaka’s wrist until the pistol broke free and skittered beneath the pilot’s seat. Tanaka released his bear hug, clamped his arms around her flailing legs and began dragging them toward the open door. Hannah stabbed him in the eye with the metal pen, pushing until the steel shaft was deeply embedded. Tanaka howled in pain, releasing his hold as his right hand went to cover the damaged eye. His headset tumbled onto the seat.
Sadashi shouted and banged the steel mesh wi
th both hands.
Whirly Man didn’t appreciate the shifting weight inside the small helicopter. “What the fuck is going on back there?”
Sadashi’s voice was shrill. “She is trying to kill Tanaka-san. You must land immediately so that I can stop her.”
Hannah slipped out from under Tanaka, braced herself against the bench and kicked his spine with both feet. Tanaka rolled toward the open door, unable to control the forward momentum. His head and shoulders banged against the doorframe, keeping him inside the compartment, but his legs went out into the slipstream. He held onto the doorframe with both hands, his one good eye filled with terror.
Hannah inched along on her stomach until they were face to face. She pulled the stainless steel pen from his eye and jammed it into his right hand, which lost its hold on the doorframe.
Tanaka was left hanging by one hand. Twice he attempted to bring the injured hand back on board but it was slippery with blood.
Whirly Man twisted in his seat, pounded the steel mesh and tapped a finger against his headset. Hannah understood. She put on the headset, keeping a close watch on Tanaka.
“Go ahead.”
“If we don’t break out of this hover and start moving forward, we’re going to crash. And since we’re over some very steep cliffs, this isn’t very promising.”
“You can move forward and reduce your altitude. That should save some fuel.”
“Is everything all right back there?”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Doesn’t sound like it. And all that movement is rocking the ship. Can you close and latch the rear door?”
“We’re working on it.”
The helicopter picked up speed and began its descent to 1,000 feet, following the rock ledges near Suicide Cliff. Hannah looked over at Tanaka. It appeared as though his lips had formed the word please, but she couldn’t be sure because it was noisy in the compartment. Hannah fastened her seatbelt. She estimated nearly a minute elapsed before Tanaka’s grip failed him.
