The Lost Kingdom (Matt Drake Book 10)

by David Leadbeater

Hayden cleared her throat. “The Peking Man?”

  “Like I said, nothing’s written down in black and white. But the likelihood is there. It all fits. Her subsequent voyage coincided with the last sightings of the Peking Man fossils which were in Singapore at the time and, of course, priceless in their value. Many believe the bones were aboard that ship.”

  Smyth was intrigued, despite himself. “What happened to it?”

  “On April the first, the Awa Maru, outfitted and sailing as a civilian and a hospital ship, under the protection of the Red Cross, was mistakenly identified as a destroyer by the US submarine—Queenfish. Intercepted in the Taiwan Strait and despite previously disclosing her route to the Allies, she was torpedoed by the Queenfish and sunk.”

  “Shit.” Hayden and Kinimaka shook their heads, having heard something similar at different times before. The Awa Maru sinking was not something the American administration had been able to sweep under the mat.

  “There was only one survivor.” Karin grimaced. “Kantora Shimoda. And he later told authorities that no Red Cross supplies were aboard the Awa Maru, they having been previously unloaded.”

  “What? Why?”

  Karin shrugged. “Clearly, it was a clandestine mission, the civilian transport front exactly that. A front. The Awa Maru was being used for another purpose.”

  “Okay, okay,” Kinimaka said. “Say that’s true. Why in hell was a US sub secretly in the Straits of Taiwan? And why fire on a ship supposedly transporting supplies to their own POWs?”

  “Good questions,” Karin said. “Both unanswerable for now. But the story isn’t finished yet. In 1980 China launched one of the biggest salvage operations in history. Five years and one hundred million dollars were spent in their search for . . . what? It must have been something incredibly valuable, significant to them, or both.”

  “The treasure,” Hayden said. “And the bones of the Peking Man.”

  “Sounds reasonable to me.”

  “What did they find?”

  “Nothing. Not a single thing beyond a few personal artefacts. The ship was pretty much stripped clean.”

  Smyth looked shocked. Even Hayden was surprised. “They found nothing?”

  Karin sat back. “Even the NSA were intrigued after that. They sifted through literally thousands of intercepted communications to discover what had happened to the bones and the treasure. Their conclusion was that it ended up in Thailand somewhere.”

  Smyth spread his hands. “Eh? The NSA said that?”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  Hayden placed her hands palm down on the table in front of her. “So,” she checked off her fingers as she spoke, “why was the USS Queenfish hanging around the Taiwan Straits at that time? Why did they sink a known hospital ship? And what happened to all that cargo?”

  “And what would Callan Dudley want with the Peking man?” Kinimaka added. “Which somehow ended up in the Smithsonian.”

  “If Dudley is working for the Pythians,” Komodo said, a hand on Karin’s shoulder. “The question is—what do they want with the fossils?”

  “I just can’t help thinking there’s a reason the Americans were in that place at that time,” Hayden continued, “As much as I love my country the motives of its power players sometimes lead me to despair.”

  Karin fielded a phone call. “They found Walcott,” she said and proceeded to tell them the details of the man’s kidnapping. “I’m just shocked both his family and he are still alive. The family were tied up and left in their house. Walcott was deposited on the Interstate. He did have one snippet of interesting information though—Dudley mentioned a second vault that he was about to visit.”

  “He means raid,” Hayden said. “Shit, there’s even more to this than we know. Could it be another artefact? The treasure itself?”

  “If there was any treasure,” Komodo said. “I doubt that it’s been sitting in a dusty vault for fifty years.”

  Hayden looked down as her cell rang. Seeing Robert Price’s office she sighed and offered a few suggestions to the team. As she answered and waited to be put through to the new Secretary she couldn’t help but remember General Stone’s words: “In any war there are unintended casualties. Just ask your new Secretary of Defense”.

  What the hell had Stone known about Robert Price?

  CHAPTER NINE

  On the way to Kobe, Drake learned more about the dreaded Yakuza and recounted details of Mai’s previous exploits at their expense. During her first, largely unsanctioned, operation she had engaged the local Yakuza gang, which had links to the head office in Kobe, taking them down to the last man. Head office, it now seemed, had previously blamed its own men for the defeat and damage rather than Mai Kitano, perhaps not comprehending the legend she had become. Old speculations had been reintroduced, however, when Mai humiliated the Yakuza for a second time during her whirlwind quest for her parents. Again Drake berated himself for not going with her, even though he knew he’d been embroiled in a life or death battle at the time.

  “This Hikaru,” he said. “According to Hibiki he’s the guy who’s been credited with capturing her. What do we know of him?”

  Dahl answered that one. “Hikaru is the man Mai made the deal with at the Cosplay convention,” he said. “Pretending she’d taken him out for the Tsugarai, he gave her time to set the trap. Assuming all went to type, the Yakuza will have punished Hikaru for his failure, despite his efforts in ridding them of a significant rival. It is all about honor and saving face, after all.”

  “Bollocks,” Drake said. “So you’re saying this is some kinda atonement? Making up for a fabricated loss?”

  “It’s much more than that now. Mai has been romanticized as the Yakuza’s nemesis by their bosses, mostly after her capture. A spectacle will be lapped up by their members.”

  “They’re gonna get more than a fucking spectacle,” Drake growled. “Believe me.”

  Alicia leaned across at that moment. “I just knew there was a reason I stayed,” she purred. “ ‘Cause I ain’t interested in one single hair on the Little Sprite’s head. It’s to hear you when you’re angry, Drakey.”

  “Amazing. I thought you’d had your fill of that when we were teamed up together, working for the Ninth.”

  “Ninety-nine to oh-three?” She heaved a sigh. “I remember the years well.”

  “And you’re full of shit. No way do you want to see Mai hurt.”

  “Balls.” Alicia looked away, finding a sudden interest in the clouds floating over the wing.

  The other two members of their team, Yorgi and Grace, smiled. Yorgi had been asked to come because of his world-class breaking-and-entering skills. Grace had been allowed to come because she practically screamed the house down when she heard about Mai’s fate and promised to stay in the hotel room. Drake had more things to worry about now than Grace and her ill-fated past.

  Later, when Mai’s freed, I’ll help. I . . . promise.

  Not that he would ever again say such a thing aloud.

  The hours passed and the airplane turned day into night and then into day again. As they were nearing their destination Dai Hibiki called.

  “Just wanted to make you more aware of what you are facing in Kobe. The Yakuza, though a transnational crime syndicate, are at war with each other. Several of the families do battle, but the one we face—the Goda Kai—are by far the largest.”

  “Typical.” Alicia snorted. “Little Mai couldn’t just piss of a tiny splinter group could she? Had to be the full Monty.”

  Now Drake smiled. “Same could be said for all of us. Look at this Ramses bloke. I’m guessing we’re gonna have to set him straight on a few things at some point.”

  “One terror organization at a time,” Dahl said.

  Hibiki coughed to reclaim their attention. “They’re very organized, strict, and deeply rooted in everything from crime to Japanese media. And despite their attempts at achieving respectability, including providing earthquake relief, much of their notoriety actually
dates back to their origins. Called Bakuto, they were gamblers, an undesirable and disdainful image in older Japan. Gambling was illegal, and many houses cropped up in abandoned temples and shrines on the outskirts of towns and villages all over the country. Oddly, the name Yakuza itself refers to a losing hand in Oicho-kabu¸ a form of blackjack. Ya-ku-za or 8-9-3.”

  “We get they’re a hard and nasty bunch,” Dahl said.

  “And much more,” Hibiki insisted. “It is speculated that Japan’s banking industry has ties to the Japanese underworld. Their property and realty market. Politics. And the young—a recent study showed that nine out of ten people under the age of forty believe that the Yakuza should exist. That is what you are up against.”

  Drake knew what Hibiki was trying to do. “Cheers, mate,” he said. “We’ll make sure we’re ready.”

  “Good. Now, on a separate note, I have information about this man Mai appears to be obsessed with at the moment. Hayami.”

  Drake sat up. “Anything would help.”

  “No, I don’t think it would. Although Mai killed Hayami, a felony that could get her locked away I should point out, and disbanded the Tsugarai, the Yakuza felt that they still owed Hayami an honor kill. Who knows what he gave up in their organization, right? So, they visited his wife, son and daughter. Torture and promises of selling the women to the slave trade and local prostitution rings followed. Then death when they finally believed the family knew nothing more. Death was a blessing, you see, a gift, after what they had already done. But the girl, Emiko, she escaped. Now we have her in protective custody so she’s a witness against them. The girl’s an understandable mess, but we will look after her.”

  “Can she help Mai?” Drake asked, missing the point.

  “Ah, she wouldn’t even if she could. The Yakuza already told her who killed Hayami. Blamed Mai for everything that was happening. Emiko, she truly hates Mai Kitano.”

  Drake didn’t know what to say. In one way Emiko had every reason to hate Mai, but in another, under different circumstances . . .

  Finally, Dahl changed the subject. “We’re an hour out, Hibiki. Have your men seen any sign of Mai at the docks?”

  Hibiki sighed. “No. But over a hundred ships a day visit that dock. She will almost certainly be in Kobe by now, and many wagons roll out. We won’t be able to prevent them from taking her to the compound, my friends. It is there, inside, that this battle will be won or lost. I have a detail on twenty-four-hour watch.”

  “What about at the compound?” Alicia asked. “Any increased activity?”

  “Unfortunately, yes and no. Gang members have been arriving in Kobe all day, and many Shateigashira, local and regional bosses, accompanied by their own hierarchies. Their number increases by the hour . . . but none have actually arrived at the compound.”

  Drake clenched his fists. His stomach twisted at the thought of Mai being put on some kind of showcase trial before being killed in front of all these hard-headed maniacs. I will not let her go out this way. Not Mai.

  “Then they’d better prepare for four more guests,” he said. “And a battle that’ll go down in history.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Mai stumbled as the two men lifted her to her feet. As instructed they were gentle, not wanting to rip open her stitches and further complicate her gunshot wound. The antibiotics were helping, as were the painkillers, and Mai could easily stand on her own. Hikaru, though, was taking no chances and, in addition to the two men helping her along, had directed a further four to watch her. Each man held a Taser and a sawn-off baseball bat in addition to the guns and knives in their belts.

  Hikaru presented himself to Mai as the ship docked. “Your entourage.” He indicated the assembled men. “I assume they’re to your liking.”

  “If I didn’t have this wound they’d already be dead.”

  “Agreed, Miss Kitano. That’s precisely why you have that wound.”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “Not far. We have made good time. The members are still arriving. I believe your trial may not begin until tomorrow but that is good. It will give you time to prepare your defense.” Hikaru burst into laughter, an arrogant and haughty expression fixed to his face. Mai spent a few seconds fantasizing about slicing it off with a blunt blade.

  “I may be down, Hikaru. But I’m never out.”

  “We’ll see if you’re still feeling that way in a few days.” Hikaru waved at her captors who urged her forward. Mai shrugged into the loose jeans and sweatshirt she’d been provided to cover her tank top and panties, showing absolutely no signs of pain or embarrassment as she dressed. Weakness was a drug to men like this. They thrived on it.

  “Follow me.” Hikaru led the way to the top deck, slowing to allow Mai extra time to navigate the stairs, then paused. Mai had her first view of the outside world in what seemed like days. Kobe was a port city, clustered around the coastline, tall buildings and motorways and bridges all lining up as if jostling for the right to sail away first. She stared across the water at a gray metropolis, at a place even she could get lost in, never to be found.

  “Move.”

  Mai followed Hikaru’s lead, and exited the ship’s interior. What felt like a knife jabbed at the pit of her stomach—the wound stretching before it should—but she fought hard to keep the pain out of her expression, instead raising her face and gauging the horizon.

  My future lies there, she thought. Never forget it.

  Five men spread out behind her and now, as she looked over the side of the ship, Mai saw half a dozen more waiting on the docks below. The ship was already moored, a gangway fed out to the dockside. Two black cars sat among the men, doors thrown open.

  “Kobe has been waiting for you,” Hikaru told her with self-seeking pride. “But it is I who have delivered.” He spread his arms. “I.”

  Mai gave him a hooded-eye frown. “Understand this, Hikaru.” She moved closer. “Get your bucket list filled, boy, because I will kill you over the next few days.”

  Hikaru smiled quickly, not wanting to portray any fear, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed him. “Just get off the damn ship.”

  Mai walked down the jouncing gangway and onto solid earth. This was a quiet area, she noticed, probably cordoned off somewhere and belonging to the localized Yakuza yobs. Being Japanese, her own view of the Yakuza was a mixed one—yes their story was romanticized, they came from all walks of life but some had actually been abandoned or exiled by their parents, taken in by the clan. Mai could identity with that. Some were taken straight from Junior High. But most were common street thugs or members of other gangs. A Yakuza gang member cut all family ties, forever. They transferred their lives and their loyalties to their boss, and they referred to each other as family members. Their boss was often called “father”. Mai could also identify with that; a youth abandoned or forced by siblings into a life of street crime would be crying out for a strong father figure and a protective family—the Yakuza would give him that.

  It was their other activities that Mai could not condone. The criminal element. The power mongering that should not exist in any close family. She stared now at the grim-faced, emotionless men who awaited her, wondering who they could have been.

  Guns were evident, held in every hand, even portable machine pistols. She entered the car they indicated and waited for it to drive away. No words were passed and Hikaru took the second car. Waves of pain washed through her body, making her want to lay her head against the window and close her eyes. But this wasn’t the time. Fighting was all she knew how to do; for a long time now it had been the sole focus of her life.

  Fight now.

  Had she originally believed that a life with Drake might somehow take all the struggle away? Or was he a convenient harbor in the storm; a lifeline? One thing was certain—he had helped neutralize the pain. Perhaps he could do so again.

  But first there was the Yakuza to contend with and, more importantly, the issue of the man she had killed and his s
urviving daughter, Emiko. What was the answer there? Yes, guilt swamped her but surely it would do no good to seek out the girl and confess.

  I can’t just let it go.

  As the car started moving Mai found her thoughts turning deeper, more twisted, as she looked inward. The past could never be altered, but the future? It could be shaped, changed; amends could be made. But how?

  Kobe passed her by, its main thoroughfares clogged with traffic and pedestrians. If anyone thought the two-car parade that headed away from the docks odd they didn’t show it. Not a head was turned. Twice she noted policemen standing near traffic lights when the car slowed, but she was too savvy to seek their assistance. If they were Yakuza owned she would only make matters worse and if they were unsullied she would get them killed. Her mind flashed quickly then, becoming more responsive as drugs and painkillers wore off, and wondered how the SPEAR team would plan their approach. No doubts existed that they would attack the Yakuza. It was all a matter of when . . . and how.

  Analyze the compound first, she thought. And I should do the same.

  Kobe flashed by, the driver taking a well-known route. The men around her didn’t engage eye contact; they sat alert and watchful as if always expecting an attack. And maybe they did. Mai knew that Kobe was one of the safest places in Japan so surely, with a kind of perverse logic, it would make the Yakuza stronghold less well guarded. Very soon she would be testing that theory.

  Each street appeared similar to the last, but Mai kept the route in her head, memorizing street names where she could. The Yakuza headquarters was more than obvious to her when it appeared out of the gray, monotonous dirge—a smoked-glass-fronted high rise with wide spaces all around the first floor entrance and many black-suited men stood about. In Kobe the Yakuza didn’t have to hide—everyone knew where they lived. Mai counted thirty floors before the building grew too close to continue and saw a smooth, peaked roof, clearly deliberate since the others around it were flat. Even Yorgi would have a hard time up there. More features lodged in her mind—the black windows that stood fully flushed with the brick walls, the lack of balconies and ledges, the positioning of the guards. Soon, the cars pulled up outside the building and everyone climbed out. Mai found herself entering the headquarters of her arch nemesis under a twelve-man shield.