But the American had been shocked to be met at the drop zone by members of the Kempetei. One of the three was executed on the spot. The true surprise for the captured American who told this story to Abayon was that the third American, a man named David Lansale, was greeted by the Kempetei not only as if they expected him, but as if he were a guest.
All this Abayon had told her at her last meeting with him, before he sent her away, as if he were anticipating his coming death. After his escape from Unit 731 and the end of the war, Abayon tried to find out who this David Lansale was, who was greeted by the Japanese while the two countries were locked in a life and death struggle.
Supposedly he was an operative of the OSS, but Abayon found out that was just a cover. Abayon found information suggesting that Lansale was an envoy sent from the Organization's American branch to the Japanese representatives of the Organization, to coordinate the course of the war and the disbursement of the Golden Lily when the war was over. He found out that Lansale met with Emperor Hirohito's brother, Prince Chichibu, to coordinate the Golden Lily project. The deal made was that the Japanese could continue the Golden Lily, unopposed by the Allies, but that none of the loot was to be sent back to Japan proper.
Most of the riches were sent to the Philippines, some to other places, but none to Japan. It was a trade, Abayon had explained to her: by putting the Golden Lily in places where the Allies, particularly the United States, could recover it easily after the war, the Allies agreed to leave the Japanese Emperor in position after the war, a rather remarkable thing in hindsight.
As he finished telling her this, Abayon had laid on her another piece of startling information, this in regard to the agent David Lansale: that he was photographed in Dallas on November 22, 1963, the day President Kennedy was assassinated.
And now Lansale had risen once more, a specter in her life, in the form of the FedEx package she had received just the other day, containing the information about the Citadel.
Fatima believed that Kaito-and the Black Tentacle-were just an outer ring of the Japanese representatives of the Organization. And now she waited to find out if she could delve deeper.
At a knock at the door, Fatima turned her head. She drew the silenced pistol and stood in the corner, in the shadows. "Come in," she called out.
A man entered, just a dark figure. He took two steps and halted, hands well away from his sides. "I bring a message from the Oyabun. He says you look in the wrong direction. Japan is not where you want to go. The Black Tentacle is significant in its dealings with this Organization for the things they do for it. For one of those things that connects with what you seek, you want to follow the path of I-401."
Fatima was confused. "What is I-401?"
"A World War II Japanese submarine," the man said. "You can learn about it easily enough doing basic research. What you cannot learn easily enough is its last mission. And where it ended up. Even we do not know that. But if you do, then you will learn of this Citadel you seek."
"Who would know?" Fatima asked.
"Someone at the docks in the old American naval base. There is an old tug captain named Shibimi. He is a member of the Black Tentacle. We will let you know where and when you can meet him."
With that the man turned and was gone, shutting the door behind him.
Fatima slowly lowered her pistol. Her grandfather had just died on board a World War II era submarine. And now she must find the whereabouts of another one. This did not bode well.
A block away, the man who had been listening to Fatima 's Yakuza meeting lowered the lid on the metal case that held the laptop computer. He had picked up the conversation in Fatima 's room quite easily from his position in the windowless rear of a black van. He slid through a curtain to the front of the rental van and drove to the hotel where he was staying. It was much nicer than Fatima 's. He parked in the garage and retired to his room.
Then he opened up a state of the art satellite radio and sent a coded message.
CHAPTER 3
Switzerland
Lake Geneva, or Lac Léman, as it is locally known, stretches in a northward arc from Geneva at one end, in the west, to Montreux at the other end, in the east. Built atop a rocky outcrop on the shore of the lake is Chillon Castle, just south of Montreux.
As castles should be and usually are, Chillon is located at a strategic point, controlling the narrow road that ran between the lake and adjacent mountains. This road had been a major north-south thoroughfare dating back at least to the days of the Roman Empire. It led to the Great St. Bernard Pass, the only connection between northern and southern Europe for hundreds of miles in either direction, east or west.
On top of the original Roman outpost, a castle had been built in the ninth century A.D. to guard the road. The counts of Savoy razed that rudimentary structure and began building the current castle in the middle of the twelfth century. It was modified and rebuilt numerous times over the centuries that followed.
The castle has a unique design because of the spot on which it sits. The side facing the road and landward is a typical fortress wall, designed for military purposes. The side facing the lake, however, has the air of a summer residence for very rich people, which it has been over the centuries. It was very unlikely that an enemy would come over the Great St. Bernard Pass hauling boats with them, which determined the unique construction of the castle complex.
During the Romantic Era of the nineteenth century, the castle gained fame throughout the world in narratives by writers and poets such as Victor Hugo, Rousseau, Shelley, Dumas, and most notably, Lord Byron. The Prisoner of Chillon by Byron revolved around the legend of the imprisonment of Bonivard in the castle's dungeon in the sixteenth century.
All this is the known history of the castle.
The unknown history is much more interesting, for it was here that the Organization, whose name was always kept secret, established their headquarters in the Year of our Lord 1289. It was from Chillon that the High Counsel who oversaw the destruction of the Knights Templar and the burning of Jacques De Molay at the stake in 1314 rode forth, and it was to Chillon that he returned from Paris.
The Organization understood the concept that their headquarters had to be both secure and accessible, as they had dealings around the world. Long before The Purloined Letter was written, the Organization decided that the best place to hide their headquarters was in plain sight. At that time Switzerland was in the center of the known civilized world. The lords of Savoy owed their good fortune-as did almost all the great families in Europe-to the Organization, so it was not difficult to have two parts to the castle: the part that even today a tourist can go and see, and the part that no one except those who are part of the Organization's highest ranks can enter or even know exists.
It is not by chance that Switzerland has gone to extreme lengths to maintain its neutrality through numerous wars, including both world wars, an amazing feat considering its central location in Europe. It is also not by chance that Switzerland is the banking center of the world. The Organization did not deal in chance. They dealt in logic, power, and control. In essence, much like Vatican City is run by the Pope and Church, Switzerland has been controlled by the Organization for centuries.
In the early days of the castle, the Organization met in a secret room adjacent to the dungeon, where the sound of the waves of Lake Geneva lapping against the stone walls could be heard intermingled with the moans and cries of the prisoners, a mixture that seemed to be indicative of the way the group conducted itself.
As time went on and technology improved, the Organization dug deeper into the granite below the castle. Today it is not a large complex, but contains perhaps the most sophisticated computer and intelligence center in the world, rivaling anything in the Pentagon or at Microsoft.