Then they were escorted out, under guard, and the adrenaline rose in each man’s chest as they walked the stairway up. This had better work, thought Fukada as they went. If it doesn’t, we won’t be able to bow our way off this ship. Everything depends on this… everything….
Yamamoto frowned, shaking his head when the door to his stateroom was closed. The effrontery of these men! Yet his curiosity had the better of him. They were very strange, and he knew his Chief of Staff had sat with them briefly, and come to some conclusion about them, so their request to adjourn to a weather deck allowed him the opportunity to consult with Ugaki. There came a quiet knock on the door, and the Chief of Staff was shown in.
“Well,” he said, “what is it they had to speak with you about?”
“I do not know that just yet,” said Yamamoto. “It is clear that they were not regular navy, and that ship isn’t ours either. And yet they are obviously Japanese.”
“That means nothing,” said Ugaki. “You and I both have many enemies, and as many Japanese among them as Americans or British.”
“Only too true,” said Yamamoto. “Your thoughts on this?”
“They may be Kempeitai, or Tokkeitai practicing their little security dance of Kikosaku. Then again, they might have been sent here by Nagano, or someone higher in the civilian authority.”
“Why?” asked Yamamoto. “Surely not to spy on us. If the Tokkeitai wanted to do that, they would be very sly about it. They would not come here on a ship like that, and dressed as they were. It would only invite the very questions I asked of them, and the rebuke I gave them in no uncertain terms.”
“Have you sent them to the brig?”
“Not yet. They were escorted under guard to the upper weather deck off the bridge. Kindly accompany me there.”
“What for?”
“That remains to be seen. They said they had something on their ship I would be very interested in—something they wish to show me. If nothing else, they have piqued my curiosity. They both know their fate will be decided by what happens next, and surely they knew that when they came here. It was clear to me that, whatever they want to reveal, it was pre-arranged by the two of them.”
“Pre-arranged? What if they have some mischief in mind?” said Ugaki. “Remember, there have been death threats. That is why Yonai secured this position for you as head of Combined Fleet when you lost your position as Vice Navy Minister—to get you out of the country and avoid assassination. Frankly, I took one look at these men and began to feel they were up to something here. They would not answer my questions, saying they were sworn to speak only to you, and the junior officer said he would have to commit seppuku if they failed to do so. Imagine that. The gall of the man! I was most eager to lend him my sword, and said as much. They may be operatives of the secret police, and in that case your life may be in danger now. I was even reluctant to see them enter your stateroom alone as you permitted. Something is very shady with these two. To begin with, where did they get that ship?”
“They have not answered that question just yet.”
“Then let us remove a few of their fingernails and find out before we put the sword to them.”
“Not just yet,” said Yamamoto, holding up a hand. “Then we begin to act like the Tokkeitai ourselves. I will indulge them briefly here. If this thing they wish to show me does not answer our questions, then I will deal with them, rest assured.”
“What could they show you? Perhaps they merely want to get you out onto the open deck and into an exposed position. What if there is a marksman out there on that ship waiting to assassinate you?”
“Then he will have to be a very good shot,” said Yamamoto with a chuckle. “We are anchored over 2000 meters from their ship. They are way over on the far side of the bay.”
“I still don’t like it…” Ugaki fumed.
“Do not worry about those death threats. Come. Let us go up and see the final act of this little drama. They will either be dining with us this evening in the officer’s hall, or eating their last meal on the cold metal deck of the brig.”
The way up did not take long, and soon Yamamoto and Ugaki emerged from the side hatch in the high conning tower of the bridge. Lieutenant Commander Fukada could see the stern aspect in their faces, and knew that this was the moment of truth. Yet he knew they had to enter the Tiger’s den one way or another here, and now he only hoped the demonstration they had arranged would be enough to impress these men. They made another respectful bow, and then asked if they might proceed.
“Please do so,” said Ugaki. “We have things of importance to attend to.”
The Captain nodded, pinched off his collar and spoke quietly, as if to himself. Then he turned to the Japanese officers and gestured to his ship across the bay.
“Gentlemen,” he said. “I invite you to witness a brief demonstration. Please watch closely…”
A moment later, Ugaki squinted at the distant ship. Then moved to the nearby stationary binoculars, his face lost and only his bald head visible above the lens cups. He thought he saw something rise slowly off the aft deck, hovering briefly over the ship, and then rising swiftly up, gaining altitude and coming their way. As it approached, they heard a quiet thrum, and Fukada turned to Yamamoto.
“Sir, the Captain has asked me to explain this brief demonstration. That is a small target craft. We call it a drone, and I have given instructions that it should be flown closer to Yamato so you may observe it more closely.”
Yamamoto, looked at him, unimpressed. “You called me up here to see the launch of a target plane? Any ship in this task force could do as much.”
“Sir, this drone is unmanned. There is no pilot. It is being operated remotely by a technician on our ship. If you happened to notice, it rose directly up from our aft deck, unassisted by any catapult as with the launch of a seaplane. In a moment you will see that we can bring this craft to a complete halt, and hover in place.”
True to Fukada’s word, the small craft approached to a point where they could see the whirling props, four of them, all pointed upwards. Yamamoto could see that it had no wings or tail at all, and was unlike any aircraft he had ever seen. He raised an eyebrow, curious, yet the object seemed almost like a toy in his estimation. It drew closer, hovered in place, which he found quite interesting, and then, on an order from the Captain, it slowly began to climb, a bright strobe light now flashing to easily mark its position in the blue sky. It moved swiftly, angling out over the center of the bay, which was five to seven kilometers wide at this point, framed off by two islands near the city.
They had decided to fly it out over the bay to the south and then shoot it down with a RIM-66H from the Vertical Launch System.
“Please watch the forward deck of Takami closely sir.” Fukada pointed, and the Captain gave the order quietly, heard clearly by Senior Lieutenant Hideo Honjo back on the ship. Seconds later, they heard what sounded, and looked, like an explosion on the forward deck of the distant ship. Then something arced up with a fiery yellow tail and a trail of white smoke, the audible roar heard ever louder as it streaked into the sky. The target drone was hastening south out to sea, but the missile tracked it unerringly, homing in and catching it with lightning quick speed. Then came the explosion, and Ugaki’s head was out from behind the stationary binoculars. He watched, gawking, as the last vestige of the missile strike slowly dissipated.