Girl Rides the Wind

by Jacques Antoine

  “Bongon is ready to take you,” the little man said.

  “What do you want to see in Ulugan Bay?”

  “Just tourists,” Connie said. “We hear it’s beautiful scenery up there.”

  “Tourists usually want to see the islands south of Puerto Princesa, or El Nido.”

  Connie tilted her head to assess the expression on Bongon’s face. “How much to take us to Ulugan Bay, right now?”

  “Eight thousand, in advance.”

  Perry’s eye’s widened, until Connie said, “I’ll give you ten thousand, when we get there, no more questions.”

  “That’s probably twice what he makes in a year,” Perry whispered in her ear. “Do you really have that much, because…”

  Bongon turned to the little man. “Make sure the tank is full, Lolo.”

  They were airborne within fifteen minutes, with both packs and Connie’s two bags stowed in the rear. Bongon cackled and called out scenic landmarks as they flew a few hundred feet above the waves, coasting the western shoreline of the main island. Small inlets and the occasional white-sand beach slipped by on their right, though mostly mangrove forests crowded up against the water’s edge. Some thirty minutes north of Quezon, Bongon pointed out his favorite restaurants, some just barely visible as they went by, and a “famous” seafood restaurant looked to Perry to be little more than a beach shack.

  “There, just past Bobosawen, see? That’s the best hotel on the island.”

  North of Anepahan, he clucked over a rolling coconut palm plantation. “Largest in the world,” he claimed. Connie nodded, as if she were impressed, or even interested in this information.

  The further north they went, the softer the coast became, rocky points and mangroves giving way to broad beaches. Tourists could even be seen on catamarans, or dangling from parasailing rigs, their concerns so different from the ones that preoccupied Perry.

  Just past Tacgawayan, a rocky finger jutted out into the sea, and Bongon soared over it, rather than swinging around to the west, and on the other side, the smooth beaches gave way to more rocks and trees, until they crested another peninsula just north of Oyster Bay. A long, thin spit of land fronted the east-facing opening to the larger bay, and Bongon turned east to cross it.

  “Rita Island,” he said. “Ulugan Bay is to your right. I can set you down in Buenavista or Macarascas.”

  Connie pointed to what appeared to be a large, maritime construction project off to their left – barges and tugboats, surrounded a dredge at the mouth of a west-facing inlet across from Rita Island. “Take us there.”

  “Nothing there,” Bongon protested, with a disarming grin on his face. “No town, just construction. Not for tourists.”

  “Put us down in that clearing by the roadway.”

  Once everything had been settled, and Bongon had lifted off, twelve thousand dollars the richer for his trouble, Perry managed to get his bearings. The roadway on which they stood hadn’t been paved yet, and the base-course of sand and gravel sprouted a cloud of dust whenever a vehicle drove by. Fortunately, incipient signs of civilization were not far to seek: a gatehouse at the entrance of a massive construction site.

  “I take it you don’t want me to ask about the money,” Perry said.

  “You didn’t think Michael would send me here without the resources to do the job, did you?”

  “Is this an op, then?”

  “You can think of it that way, if you like. Whatever it turns out to be, finding her is only gonna be the beginning. You realize that, don’t you?”

  The gate guards betrayed no understanding of what these two strangers might want from them. But a few moments later, two men emerged from a black Humvee with tinted windows.

  “Private security,” Connie whispered.

  “This is a restricted area,” the larger of the two men said. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” When Connie flashed an ID, with ONI in large, block letters along the top, the man changed his tone, but still refused them admittance. “I’m sorry, Commander, but I still can’t let you through.”

  Connie dangled a sheet of paper in front of him and said, “Tell your supervisor the request comes from Emily Hsiang.” He retreated to the gatehouse and picked up the phone.

  “Do I need to know who that is?” Perry asked.

  “Do you want to know?”

  “I guess not.”

  “Let ’em through,” the man said, leaning out the gatehouse door. “I apologize for the delay, ma’am.” Connie grunted a reply Perry couldn’t quite make out, and the man pointed off to the left. “You’ll find the LT by dock seven, down that way.”

  * * *

  Once again, Perry found himself trailing behind as Connie’s long legs strode ahead across a hectic construction site, forklifts and front-end loaders rumbling in all directions. Was a single mind organizing all this chaotic activity? Most of the men buzzing along the waterfront were locals, dressed in civilian motley. But Seabee badges were also visible here and there, and Perry thought he spied an Underwater Construction Team, or at least their equipment peeking out from a large shed.

  A moment’s distraction and he’d lost track of her, though it didn’t take long to locate her voice, already caught up in a discussion that promised to get heated soon, with an officer whose face he couldn’t quite see. Not bothering to peek over Connie’s shoulders, which filled the doorway to a smaller shed, it occurred to him that the voice inside sounded familiar. With a groan, he unloaded the gear he’d been lugging, and stacked it next to the door, and thought better of inserting himself into the conversation.

  “I don’t see how I can help you, Commander. As far as I can tell, you have no orders or any official business here. I’m surprised you even got past the gate.”

  “This is important,” Connie said, “…important enough for the Admiral to send us here.”

  “Important enough for you to fill me in on what is likely to be the end of my career?”

  “You don’t need to know more than that a couple of Marines are depending on what you decide to do next.”

  “Even if I wanted to help you, all we have here is a couple of Ospreys, and there’s no way I can justify taking one of those out of service, not to mention the fuel and the crew… and are you even cleared to fly one of those things?”

  “That’s all you have?”

  “There’s a four-seat chopper, but it doesn’t have the range for a grid-search, and even if you stumbled on them, you couldn’t pick them off the water in that. If you could give me something to take to the CO, maybe I could get an authorization…”

  “This is strictly need to know…”

  “… and my CO doesn’t need to know, is that it?”

  “Nope.”

  “Does SECNAV need to know?”

  Perry picked himself off the throne he’d constructed out of packs, and decided to investigate this stubborn lieutenant whose voice seemed so familiar. Craning his neck around Connie, when he saw who it was, he pushed past her into the shed.

  “Kathy Gunderson, is that you?

  “Yes, sir, Lieutenant Commander.” She’d snapped to attention as soon as she saw him. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

  “She’s no use to us,” Connie said.

  “What’s on your mind, Lieutenant?”

  “What, exactly, is a SEAL officer and an ONI spook… no offense intended, ma’am…”

  “None taken. It’s a fair question. I wish we could tell you.”

  “What’s so important about these two Marines that you would run an op off the books…”

  “It’s Tenno.” Perry blurted out the sensitive information Connie had been tap-dancing around. “She’s one of the Marines. That’s who we’re looking for.”

  An awkward silence gripped the room for a long, uncomfortable moment. Perry took a deep breath and glanced over at Gunderson, whose chin trembled, before she spoke.

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell me? I mean, all due respect, but…”
/>   “What difference does it make?” Connie asked. “You’ve already made it abundantly clear…”

  “I know where we can find a six-seat Otter.”

  “An Otter?” Perry asked.

  “Pontoon-style?” Connie asked.

  “Yup, and with a range over nine hundred miles at sea level, we should have seven hours of search time.”

  “We?”

  “Sorry, Lieutenant,” Perry said. “It’s like you said, this whole thing is off the books. We can’t ask you to make a sacrifice like that.”

  “It’s likely to be dangerous,” Connie added.

  “How dangerous is a sea rescue likely to be?”

  A sickly smile crept across Perry’s face as he watched the lieutenant trying to process what they were telling her. “Have you forgotten who it is we’re searching for?”

  “Fair enough, but no plane if I’m not coming.”

  “Are you willing to go UA?” Perry asked, but Connie had already fished a sat-phone from her pack.

  “Yes, Admiral,” Perry heard her say. “We’ll need you to pull some strings to get her a leave.”

  “It looks like you’re in, Lieutenant,” he said. “We’re also going to need some ordinance.”

  “I can’t help you there, sir.”

  “I’ve already got a lead on what we’ll need,” Connie said, once she’d ended the call.

  Chapter 20

  All Hell Breaks Loose

  Gyoshin shook her head when she heard the shriek coming from downstairs. Her brother was glued to the latest news reports on the little TV Hana kept in the kitchen, the only TV Ojii-san ever allowed in the house. It probably wasn’t wise to leave him alone with her. The old woman came running up the stairs with the bad news, her face streaming tears.

  “It’s okay, Hana.” Gyoshin touched her hand, a tiny gesture to reassure her, though it wasn’t as effective as she’d hoped. A hug might have been appropriate under such circumstances, in a different household, but not this one, at least not yet. What more can I do for her? Perhaps she ought to make an effort to appear more surprised. “We’ll be safe here.”

  In the way one does when confronted with a sudden shock, Hana had convinced herself that riots would engulf the entire country. Some civil unrest had already emerged, but the main uprisings in Tokyo and Osaka would not happen until that evening and the next morning, that is if Jin’s plans went off without a hitch.

  “Hey, Sis, are you seeing this?” her brother called up from the landing.

  “Yes,” she said, lying. Why did she need to see her own handiwork?

  “Commandos attacked the Crown Prince’s family and kidnapped the little princess.”

  Gyoshin waited to hear the second half of the report in her brother’s voice, that the Crown Prince and Princess were dead, but strangely he said nothing further. Something’s wrong, she thought as she pushed past him on the stairs, rushing to get to Hana’s TV to see for herself.

  Sitting in the corner of the main counter, its rabbit ears stretched under the cabinet and making for a snowy image, the TV blared it’s primary message: Attack on the Imperial family. A news ticker stretched along the bottom of the screen with details that emerged at an infuriatingly slow pace – an organized attack; an unknown paramilitary force; the security team overwhelmed as the Crown Prince toured Amami Oshima, an island some two hundred miles south of Kagoshima; severe casualties; the Samurai guard were able to secure the Crown Prince and Princess; unfortunately their daughter appears to be missing.

  As soon as she saw the news confirmed by a member of the Imperial Household Agency, Gyoshin stepped out the back door and paced through Hana’s garden.

  “Diao’s men failed,” she said in to the mobile phone, as loudly as she dared. “The Crown Princess is still alive.”

  “I saw it too,” Jin said, her voice as cool as ever.

  “There’s no mention of American involvement. Have we heard from Otani?”

  “All she knows is that the girl is listed as missing. They think she’s lost at sea.”

  Gyoshin’s head swam with the news, glancing at the possibilities, but unable to focus on any of them. If Diao’s people failed to capture the American, it would be harder to implicate them. But the situation might still be salvageable. The government would fall regardless, and Jin’s people were already in position to place the principal figures under house arrest, though it might be necessary to keep them alive a little longer than originally planned. Her thoughts kept returning to the central fact – the American girl was unaccounted for. Could she still be alive? Gyoshin needed to be angry at this turn of events, if only for Jin’s sake, but some part of her was relieved at the thought.

  “We’ll need to move deliberately now.”

  “The video of the hafu holding Princess Toshi will air on the evening news,” Jin said. “That’s almost as good as finding her body at the scene. Once a suitable pitch of outrage is attained, we can move against the Crown Princess.”

  “Are the army units in position?”

  “Yes. The opposition party is already calling for a suspension of trading on the Nikkei, which should cause a panic, and the troops have surrounded the Diet. The situation will be stabilized shortly after midnight, in time to respond to a massive demonstration that will take place in Tokyo. Have you taken care of things on your end?”

  “Our man in the Household Agency is preparing Tenno Heika to announce a loss of confidence in the government. We should arrange our press conference for shortly after that. Once we broadcast, the Household Agency will close the palace to all news media.”

  The thought of standing next to Soga Jin in front of the cameras would have terrified Gyoshin a few months ago, so short and slight compared to her elegant co-conspirator, like Caliban at the elbow of a fashion model. But so much had changed since then, and now she even relished the prospect to the point of thinking that next to her, Jin would appear to a frightened populace more like a foreign adventurer than the representative of one of the nation’s ancient, trusted families.

  She’d have to meet the Sogas in Tokyo later that day, and had arranged for her car service to come by within the hour – a perk of the job she was beginning to appreciate the usefulness of. Another perk: she’d arranged for a personal bodyguard for herself and Mr. Saito. His was for appearances, but hers was so she could avoid being pressured into joining Jin’s armed entourage. Saito-san wouldn’t give it a second thought.

  “Where’s Grandfather?” Her brother finally noticed the old man’s absence, even though he still stood on the landing, not even confident enough as an adult to engage with him directly. Gyoshin pushed past him and tossed a casual lie back down the stairs.

  “He went up to Hokkaido to tour the lumber mills with Auntie Nagako. He’ll be back next week.” Of course, her brother didn’t even know that that they’d sold off the lumber interests a few years back, and a week was long enough to put him off. If he inquired again after that, greater events would have made the fiction no longer necessary. When she entered Grandfather’s room, Hana looked up at her through reddened eyes and began to protest, until Gyoshin put a finger to her lips. “Remember your promise.”

  “Your brother deserves to know the truth.”

  “No he doesn’t,” she said, in an urgent whisper. “Not for a little longer. Trust me, it really isn’t safe yet… and don’t forget that other errand.”

  “Which?” the old woman said, having lost her bearings in the general confusion.

  “You must persuade the Okamotos to come back here with you. They can stay in the rooms in the east wing. Also, I’ve arranged for some men to keep all of you safe here.”

  “But Heiji-sama would not approve of having the Okamotos in his house.”

  “It is no longer his house,” Gyoshin said, feeling empowered now to say that it was her house, even though the courts would in all likelihood find that it belonged to her brother… if he lived long enough to take possession, or even had the nerve to sleep
in it. “We need to assure Haru-chan’s safety, Hana. It’s for her. Everything I do from now on is for her.”

  * * *

  Michael’s daily briefing was a relief from the otherwise unrelenting fear that had gripped the house in Charlottesville for the last few days. He had barely cleared his throat and dropped his briefcase before Andie and Yuki began peppering him with questions.

  “No, they don’t usually invite the DCS into the Situation Room, but the DCI told me everything.”

  “You guys love your letters.” Andie nudged Yuki to let her know it was okay to laugh.

  “You’re almost as bad as the Navy and their acronyms, SOCOM, SECDEF and SECNAV,” Yuki added. It was a relief to have another emotion to indulge, though her red eyes made this humor slightly less than credible. Michael knew to play along.

  “Well, we’ve got nothing on the Secret Service.”

  “Did the president authorize a new search?” Andie slipped this question in before Yuki had a chance to get too worked up.

  “No. He’s still convinced by O’Brien’s political analysis, and the Director of Central Intelligence thinks they may be right. The base negotiations are too important, as they see it, to risk an incident. But the latest developments in China supported my analysis of the kidnapping.”

  “What developments?”

  “Satellite imagery shows elements of the Guangzhou and Jinan armies mobilizing.”

  “Mobilizing?”

  “Two armored divisions from Jinan have taken up positions about twenty miles south of Beijing, just outside Langfang. At the same time, elements of the 41st and 42nd armies from Guangzhou have occupied major arteries in the Nanjing region. This represents more than three hundred thousand troops.”