Genda had helped plan the attack on Pearl Harbor and had taken part in numerous other battles. Some felt that if he had not been sickly during the ill-fated Battle of Midway, it and the war would have turned out differently for Japan.
Most recently, Genda had been assigned to help coordinate Japan's air defenses, which meant he had little to do since Japan's air defenses were virtually nonexistent. Thus, he could often be found at Anami's subterranean headquarters, and his presence was even looked forward to by those who considered him a hero.
After a cursory search for weapons- none of any kind were permitted in Anami's presence- Genda was admitted to Anami's private office. As he entered, a clerk closed the door behind him. As Genda expected, he and Anami were alone. The errand Anami had sent him on required a high degree of secrecy.
But first, there was a personal concern. "Your arm. What happened?" Anami asked.
Genda grimaced. His left arm was in a large cast. "Sir, the trip to Kyushu was even more dangerous than I expected. This is courtesy of an American plane my pilot and I almost couldn't evade. It looks worse than it is, however, and it will heal in a few weeks."
"I am glad for your safe return," Anami said with sincerity. He wished he had many more Gendas to depend on. "But tell me, is the situation as bad as we've been led to believe?"
"It is," Genda conceded sadly. "If anything, it is worse."
The day before, Anami had received frantic coded signals from Kyushu that Hirohito had been kidnapped by an American raiding party. Anami had prevailed on Genda to fly to Camp 7 on Kyushu and verify the disaster.
Genda awkwardly lit a cigarette with his good arm. "I was able to confirm that an American raider force knew precisely where Hirohito was, and after a brief fight, they took him away by helicopters, which they used to fly him out to their ships. Witnesses saw a man fitting Hirohito's description with them, and it may be that the emperor went willingly. A Japanese officer was also seen assisting the Americans, which indicates a conspiracy, at least at the lower level. We must assume that the emperor is in American hands and will cooperate with them. The Japanese officer in question has not been found."
And doubtless won't be, Genda didn't add. Whoever the Japanese officer was and anyone else in on the conspiracy were in hiding and not worth looking for. Hirohito's taking had stunned the Tokyo headquarters, but, so far, the news had not spread to the rest of Japan. It did, however, present a unique opportunity for those brave enough to take it.
Anami took the bad news with surprising calm. Then he smiled grimly. "No," Anami finally said. "Hirohito was murdered by the Americans. It is an unspeakable atrocity that we will blame on them."
"But, sir, Hirohito may make public announcements for the Americans, even calling for surrender. What then?"
Anami slammed his fist on his desk. "They will be denounced as lies and fabrications. We will inform the world that Hirohito is dead and that his son Akihito is the new emperor, and that I have been appointed regent. We shall simply ignore anything Hirohito does and says for the Americans. We will announce that, after murdering him, the Americans have hired an actor to pretend he is the emperor."
Amazing, Genda thought. How could Akihito be proclaimed emperor of anything when no one knew where he was? Anami's control of Japan was far from absolute. Genda forced a smile. "Excellent. But how will that enable us to win the war?"
Anami chuckled. "Why, Captain, we have already won the war. This attempt by the Americans to undermine the Empire shows how bankrupt they are. Our counterattacks will begin very shortly and they will bleed the Americans so badly that they will sue for a peace that leaves us strong."
"And if they don't?"
"Then we will fight on, Genda. We will fight on forever. We will never surrender and be destroyed as the Americans have planned for us."
"Good. Then I will return to my duties with greater zeal."
Genda stood and bowed. The cast on his arm threw him off-balance and he nearly stumbled. He grasped the edge of Anami's desk for support while grimacing in pain.
Anami rose quickly and steadied him. "Genda, are you all right? Perhaps you should see a doctor before going back to duty?"
"I'm all right," Genda insisted.
As he said that, the hand encased in the cast squeezed a rubber bottle, which emitted a puff of misty fluid that hit Anami square in the face. For a second, the general appeared puzzled. Then his eyes widened and he began to choke and spasm soundlessly. He sat down hard on his chair and slumped forward. Genda waited a moment. There was no need to check for a pulse. He only wanted to be sure that it was safe to proceed.
The mist was a nerve gas, a particularly virulent derivative of a German gas called sarin that General Ishii had managed to bring with him from Manchuria. It killed on contact with the skin by paralyzing the nerves. It also evaporated into the air and lost its potency almost immediately, which made it useless on the battlefield, yet marvelously lethal in this instance.
Finally, Genda was satisfied that enough time had passed and that it would be safe to handle the general without fear of contamination, particularly since the air vent in the underground office had been humming and pulling out stale air. "Help!" Genda hollered. "The general has collapsed. Help!"
The door opened and others rushed in. They pulled Anami off his chair and laid him on the floor. At least two checked for a pulse that wasn't there, then started pushing on his chest as if that would start his breathing again.
General Homma rushed in from his own office down the hall and took command, chasing out gawkers. Only a couple of men who continued to try to revive Anami remained. "What happened?" he asked Genda.
Genda spoke clearly. It was imperative that his version be told and heard first. "We were talking when he suddenly clutched his chest and pitched forward. He didn't make a sound. He just fell over and didn't move."
Homma nodded and responded firmly, "A doctor has been summoned, but for what purpose I don't know. It appears that General Anami has suffered a heart attack or a stroke." He looked at the faces assembled just outside the open office door. Many looked stunned, but some appeared strangely hopeful. "I am senior here," Homma went on, "therefore, I am assuming command. You will return to your duties and continue as before. Captain Genda, you will follow me and make a brief statement for the record."
Genda's statement to a clerk was a formality. Anami was dead of a massive heart attack probably brought on by the immense strain of his duties. In a few minutes Genda was aboveground after watching Homma begin to take over the reins of the Japanese government. Only the plotters knew that a coup had just occurred, and that Homma and Ozawa were part of it. As part of their plans, "emergencies" had sent both Admiral Toyoda and Field Marshal Sugiyama away from the headquarters.
Even though political assassination had been a macabre kind of Japanese tradition in the decades prior to the war, Genda deeply regretted that necessity had forced him to do it. Genda was a warrior, not a murderer. Anami had been a warrior too before he had succumbed to the madness that was keeping Japan in the war. Now Genda would inform his friend and mentor Admiral Ozawa that his mission was completed.
Even now, General Homma was setting more wheels in motion. There were others to round up or dispose of before a new government could be formed under General Homma and Admiral Ozawa. A government, Genda hoped, that would bring an end to the war that was destroying Japan.