by Gene P. Abel
This left Captain Beck to bring up the rear and pause briefly at the gate as the admissions attendant was picking himself up. “Guess it’s up to me. Well, uh, this should cover the bunch of us.”
He pulled out a couple of bills, dropped them into the man’s hands, then broke into a run while tossing a quick comment back over his shoulder to the confused attendant. “It’s those tigers. We’re all really eager to see them.”
The chase brought them first to the sea lion pool and the people crowding around it, trying to get a glimpse of the creatures sunning themselves on their rock within the fence that surrounded the whole large pool. One of the Japanese knocked a lady’s parasol out of her hands, another shoved a man in his way, while a third tipped over the cart of a passing vendor, spilling warmed peanuts across the ground. Anything to create some obstacles between themselves and their pursuers.
Agent Harris ran around the lady, retrieving her parasol, leaped over the fallen man, and didn’t miss a step dashing through the strewn peanuts and the crowd of kids who had formed in eager retrieval of the vendor’s stock of supplies from the ground. Behind her, Lieutenant Phelps paused to pick up the lady and her parasol, depositing them gently out of the way as the others ran past him.
“You’re just making it harder on yourselves when I catch up with you,” Agent Harris called out.
Around the perimeter of the large pond one of the five ran, passing a man carrying a large bucket of fish for the sea lions’ feeding time. The worker gave a wide grin to the eager crowd, which quickly soured when one of the Japanese men reached in and threw a fish at Agent Harris, followed by two more before he continued running. Agent Harris batted the fish away, but dealing with that cost her a few precious seconds. Lieutenant Phelps and Dr. Weiss caught up to her just as she was starting up again.
“Where are the others?” she asked when she saw no one else with them.
“Going around the other side of the pond to cut them off,” Dr. Weiss replied.
“Then let’s move it.”
As foretold, coming around from the other side to meet with the Japanese was Agent Hessman leading Professor Stein, Captain Beck, and Claire, who seemed to be enjoying everything about the chase except running in women’s shoes. “Someone should . . . invent proper . . . shoes for running,” she panted.
“You mean like something without heels?” Professor Stein ventured.
“Exactly!”
“Then maybe they’ll call them sneakers,” he added quietly with a slight grin she didn’t catch.
Trapped between both ends, the opposing team headed straight toward the building behind them. Agent Harris saw them charge straight inside and pointed to signal the others as she ran after them.
“That’s the bird house,” Claire called up. “Nothing but bird cages, nowhere to escape to.”
“It would seem so,” Agent Hessman replied. “Hurry!”
Agent Harris was the first to make her way through, but as she reached the front doors, a charge of people made its way out, followed by a scattering of fluttering squawking birds.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Dr. Weiss remarked as he ran.
Agent Harris entered into bedlam. Ahead of her stretched the walkway that went past the various cages of birds large and small, several of which had been opened by the passing Japanese team, while yet another cage several yards down was being kicked open as well, followed by noises to encourage the flocks into chaotic flight. That got several people screaming and running, which in turn gave more of the birds reason to fly madly around.
“I don’t know whether to start tossing people or birds out of the way,” she remarked.
“You know how a cowcatcher on a train works?” Lieutenant Phelps told her. “That’s me.”
Not waiting for anyone’s permission, Phelps brought his fists together, elbows sticking out to the sides, and proceeded to charge straight down the middle of the aisle, screaming at the top of his lungs. Be it person or bird, few had any taste for staying in the way of a human locomotive. The building filled with human cries, exploding with a storm of wings and protesting birds, but for a moment at least Phelps generated one clear path through the middle of it all, with the rest of his team following behind him.
At the other side of the enclosure, the Japanese team, thinking they might have finally made good their escape, took a glimpse back; but instead of seeing their pursuers caught in the midst of the mess, they saw what might have been an angry linebacker coming in for a tackle at the guy with the football—and they were the football. They exchanged quick words and used even quicker feet to head straight for the rear door, despite the presence of a sign saying, “Staff Only.” They ran through and slammed the door behind them.
Lieutenant Phelps didn’t bother using the doorknob to open the door but crashed right on through it. The team left flying feathers, angry birds, and confused attendees in their wake, and even more confused staff members. Ahead of them the path wound through another row of cages, branching out toward a small lake, a wooded area, an open field with a small herd of antelope from Africa, and other points of interest. The Japanese team was headed for the caged areas.
“If they open any of those cages the way they did for the birds . . . ,” Claire began.
“Yeah, really bad news,” Agent Hessman summed up. “Go for the slowest; if we capture one, we can question him.”
Agent Harris saw one man lagging slightly behind the others and broke into a fresh run. The one she’d eyed was headed for a fenced-off brick enclosure, while his companions were each running for different caged areas.
“Not this again,” Agent Harris swore under her breath. “I’m bringing at least one of them down!”
She increased her speed, but not without another remark under her breath. “Be a lot easier if I didn’t have to run in these stupid boots.”
One of the Japanese men went straight into the monkey cage, while another changed course and headed for the fenced-off grassy area where the African wildlife roamed free. The remaining two simply ran as fast along the path as they could.
“That brick building,” Agent Hessman called back to Claire. “What is it?”
“The lion house,” she said after a pant.
“You’re out of breath,” Professor Stein said as he came jogging up to Claire’s side. “You should sit the rest of this one out.”
“Not . . . on . . . your life . . . buster.”
Harris and Phelps both headed for the lion house, while Captain Beck and Dr. Weiss ran for the man leaping the fence into the grasslands area.
“He’s headed for those antelopes,” Captain Beck stated.
“I think they’re wildebeests,” Dr. Weiss corrected.
“Same difference. Now get him.”
The man they were after ran straight for the nearest creature, yelling and waving his hands at the complacent beast, until he ran up to the top of a convenient boulder, jumped . . . and landed right on the back of one of the creatures. This elicited two reactions, one each from man and creature. First the man howled in surprised pain, as one might expect the male of the species to do, coming down for a hard landing in such a way. Then the creature cried out and bucked, breaking into a run and trying to dislodge the interloper on its back.
Captain Beck and Dr. Weiss simply came to a stop and watched as the man rode the bucking creature across the field. “No,” Dr. Weiss said, shaking his head, “not even gonna try. He can have this one.”
“I’m with you there,” Captain Beck agreed. “Come on, let’s rejoin the others.”
Harris and Phelps came crashing into the lion house to discover that their quarry had indeed tried opening the cage to create more chaos without first checking what was within it. Now he was backing fearfully away while the lion lazily wondered which of the screaming visitors before him to go after. A lion handler had just com
e on the scene, but that didn’t seem to matter to the man as he backed away, shaking in fear, straight into two waiting pairs of hands.
“You got a choice,” Agent Harris said into his left ear. “Come with us or we toss you to the lion.”
“Take the lion,” Lieutenant Phelps urged into the other ear. “It might leave you more intact if you struggle.”
The man tried to spin around, but they had him in a firm grip between them, with Harris twisting one arm and Phelps simply squeezing his hand around the man’s other arm until he feared he might hear something snap. The captured man spoke a few words in Japanese before he relented and spoke in English. “Okay, I come. Just get me away from that creature.”
“That little pussy cat?” Agent Harris grinned.
Outside, Agent Hessman saw the two men running and the one going for the monkey cage and motioned Professor Stein and Claire back.
“Those other two can run faster than we can, and if the one going for the monkey cages has any success at letting those creatures loose, neither he nor we are going to come out the winners. Let’s see what success Sue and David have had.”
From the corner of his eye, he also saw Dr. Weiss and Captain Beck returning. Captain Beck simply shook his head.
“Got away,” he said as they approached, “and there is no way we’re going to catch him.”
“Though I suspect he’s not too happy about the mode of transportation that he chose,” Dr. Weiss added with a grin.
A minute later, and much to everyone’s pleasure, they saw Harris and Phelps coming out of the lion house with a single Japanese man gripped firmly between them.
“We got one at least,” Lieutenant Phelps reported.
“Good, then we can question him and see what’s going on,” Agent Hessman said. “We need a nice quiet place.”
“I suggest doing it outside of the menagerie,” Claire told them. “If the local officials ever trace the chaos in the bird house to us—”
“Right,” Agent Hessman agreed. “Which way?”
“The exit out into the park is that way,” Claire pointed. “Plenty of peaceful open spaces.”
“Then let’s go.”
With some guidance from Claire, Agent Hessman led the group swiftly through the zoo toward the exit into the interior of Central Park, ignoring for now what may have been the cry of some enraged monkeys as another member of the Japanese team tried to find his way out.
17
Question Time
They picked a spot under some trees around a park bench with nothing but a clear view of open lawn to satisfy Agent Harris’s security considerations. Lieutenant Phelps had their prisoner in a discreet wristlock behind the man’s back as he stood him before the bench where Agent Hessman and Dr. Weiss sat. Agent Harris took up position standing behind the bench, keeping her eyes peeled for possible trouble from all directions, while Professor Stein and Captain Beck stood with Claire several yards away.
“I can’t hear a thing from here,” the reporter protested.
“That is rather the idea, Miss Hill,” Captain Beck replied. “Certain classified matters may come up during the questioning that I am afraid I cannot allow you to overhear.”
“I thought this was a team,” she protested, “with me as a part of it.”
“You are, Claire,” Professor Stein calmly told her. “And once we find out what he has to tell us, we’ll fill you in.”
“Filtered, of course,” she pouted.
“It’s as Robert said. There are certain matters that no one can be allowed to know about. More than that I cannot tell you.”
“A fine partnership this turned out to be.”
She folded her arms crossly and glared at Professor Stein, but if she expected him to back down or flinch, to her surprise he did not. He met her gaze, then likewise folded his arms as he turned to face her full-on. For a few moments the pair simply stood, exchanging determined glares, until Claire spoke first, though her stance never shifted. “I’d not have thought a man who hadn’t seen combat action could be so stubborn.”
“And I’d not have thought a woman of this age could be so . . . determined,” Professor Stein shot back.
“Maybe I was born a few decades too early, but that doesn’t change the fact that I will find out what’s going on. You just watch.”
“I will.”
She coughed once before resuming her glaring contest.
At the bench, meanwhile, Agent Hessman was sitting calmly, looking up at their prisoner, who was short, of slender build, with black hair trimmed to his ears, and dressed much like most men in this city, with a suit, high white collar, and matching vest. While Lieutenant Phelps held the prisoner secure, Agent Hessman reached out and thoughtfully fingered the end of the man’s jacket.
“A fine material . . . except, as I’m sure Ben might confirm, nylon was not invented until about a decade or more later. You have to watch slipups like that. What if one of you gets caught by the more local authorities?”
The man said nothing but met Agent Hessman’s gaze in silent protest.
“I want to keep this friendly, but if it comes to it, David here can break your arm and paralyze your vocal cords at the same time so no one can hear you scream. Now, let’s start with the basics. My name is Lou. What do I call you? And please don’t reply with the old cliché of spitting in my face as an answer. This is not an old spy film; I just want to find out what’s going on. So: Name?”
The man seemed to think on the matter for a moment, felt an increasing pressure on one shoulder from the lieutenant, and replied with a grunt before voicing an answer. “Eiji Sato.”
“Very good. Okay, Eiji, I’ll tell you what we know of things; then you can feel free to fill in the blanks, okay?”
Agent Hessman sat back, assuming a bit more relaxed position, but never once did his gaze leave the other man. Eiji’s eyes darted around, pausing briefly on the glaring contest between Professor Stein and the reporter, then with a questioning look back to Agent Hessman.
“Oh, Miss Hill is not with our team. She’s more of a local, so for both our sakes, if you could keep your answers to discreet tones, I would appreciate it.”
Eiji nodded slightly. The next words he spoke were just loud enough to be heard by those at the bench and missed by the reporter several yards away.
“I do not know much,” he began. “I am the weapons specialist. You killed our history expert.”
“It was not our intent to kill, merely to discover what’s going on,” Dr. Weiss stated. “We recorded a TDW from this period, which necessitated an immediate investigation. When I searched his body, I found this.” Agent Hessman pulled out the photo and held it briefly up for Eiji to see before repocketing it.
“General Tojo. Quite the notorious figure to be looking for, don’t you think? Now, a few possibilities come to mind when I look at this picture. You could be thinking to offer him some advice on how to win a certain upcoming war, or at least when to stop pushing against the United States and simply hold on to what you’ve gained. Or maybe if you kill him, a better general might come along. So, which is it?”
Eiji said nothing at first, just looked around, but all he saw in the distance were groups of people enjoying the park, strolling, or sitting on the vast grassy lawn, a few clustering by a large fountain or recently added statue. Nothing, however, in the way of suggestive help.
“I doubt if your team’s reassembled quite yet,” Agent Hessman stated. “And I’m not waiting long enough for them to mount a rescue. We’re on the clock here, so just tell us what you know.”
The man paused briefly, considering his options, and finally he explained. “It is not as you think. Our involvement in the Second World War was a great dishonor upon the face of my nation. Before that, Japan was enjoying prosperity.”
“Hold on a second,” Agent Hessman c
ut in. “This sounds like something our own history expert needs to hear. Ben!”
Ben broke off from the glaring contest to see Agent Hessman signaling him, and gave a polite nod to the reporter. “I’m sorry, Claire, but my services seem to be required.”
“And mine aren’t? Why, I’ve half a mind to—”
Captain Beck laid a firm but gentle hand on her shoulder as Professor Stein walked quickly over to join the others by the bench. “You people are infuriating,” she fumed, ending with another cough.
“And you should do something about that cough,” the captain noted.
Professor Stein came over to stand before Agent Hessman and their prisoner.
“He was just telling us how Japan was enjoying a successful economy during this time period,” Agent Hessman began.
“They were,” Professor Stein replied. “It was quite the prosperous democracy until the military establishment decided to try things their way.”
Agent Hessman then eyed Eiji, who picked up his explanation. “As I said, that war was a great dishonor for my country.”
“But you rose to economic prominence afterward,” Professor Stein pointed out.
“But we had it before,” Eiji replied. “Between the war and the rebuilding, many years were wasted that we could have been enjoying the prosperity we had before.”
“So you came here to kill Tojo?” Agent Hessman filled in.
“Yes,” Eiji answered. “With General Tojo dead, we will not have entered the disaster that was the Second World War.”
