They came “to a halt fifteen feet away, the guards on either flank, Nakanga directly behind the Genoysha’s wheelchair.
“Ronin Nishin, you have done well,” Genoysha Kuzumi called out.
Lake glanced over at Nishin, but he couldn’t tell anything from his face.
“Have you recovered Genzai Bakudan?” Kuzumi asked.
“Yes,” Nishin said.
“More company,” Lake said as a helicopter flashed overhead, searchlight illuminating the scene. Everyone paused and watched as the chopper settled down beyond the plane. The side door of the chopper opened and four men jumped out of it.
Lake recognized the figure of the lead man immediately. “My boss, Feliks, is here too,” he whispered to Nishin.
Nishin didn’t say anything in reply.
Feliks and his guards moved toward Lake and Nishin, circumventing the Japanese party. Lake and Nishin were at the point of a triangle, the Black Ocean Genoysha at another and Feliks at the third.
“One big happy party,” Lake called out. It was silent except for the sound of the surf pounding the island now that both the tilt-jet and helicopter had shut down their engines.
“Do you have the bomb?” Feliks asked.
“First I think introductions are in order,” Lake replied. “My name is Lake. I work for the Ranch, which works for the U.S. government.” Lake stabbed a thumb at his partner. “This is Nishin.-He works for the Black Ocean Society.” Lake pointed at the Japanese group. “Nishin tells me that over there is his Genoysha, or head, of the Black Ocean.”
“Do you have the bomb?” Feliks demanded.
Lake knew there was no use denying it since he had taken it as far as he could. “Yes, we have it.”
Feliks then turned toward the Black Ocean people. “I believe we can resolve this once again with—” He paused as a powerful searchlight raked across the jetty.
Everyone on land turned and watched as a tugboat pulled up to the outside of the jetty. A cluster of armed men poured off the boat, forming a skirmish line on the wood dock. Several figures climbed off the boat behind them, then the entire party moved forward.
Lake froze as he recognized a tall, slender figure in the rear of the new group: Peggy Harmon, her arm supporting an older woman dressed in a long black coat.
The Hush Puppy was forgotten in Lake’s hand. There was enough firepower in the immediate vicinity to make Swiss cheese of Nishin and him, but that wasn’t what preoccupied Lake’s mind at the moment. He suddenly realized this was all a setup. It had to be. It couldn’t have been coincidence that brought him to Harmon’s office and her here now. And Feliks and the Black Ocean Genoysha. Underneath that strategic analysis, though, was his profound disappointment in Harmon and even more so in himself for being so easily deceived and set up.
Lake was not the only one experiencing strong emotion. As the people had gotten off the tug, Kuzumi had also realized all these individuals coming to this location at the same time could not be coincidence. There had to be a hand behind it and he knew it wasn’t his, which was what concerned him the most.
He didn’t recognize the people from the tug, although Nakanga had whispered in his ear that the old man with them was the Oyabun of the San Francisco Yakuza.
“The young woman?” Kuzumi asked.
“I don’t know, Genoysha.”
Kuzumi squinted. He could not make out the features of the older woman on her arm. The night combined with a dark shawl obscured her face.
“I am glad you could all make it,” the old woman said, and Kuzumi felt his heart tremble. It could not be — but he knew it was.
“Nira!” he cried out from his wheelchair.
The old woman slowly walked forward until she was a few feet in front of Kuzumi’s wheelchair. She pulled back her shawl and looked hard at him. There was no doubting it now, Kuzumi knew. Fifty-six years had passed but he could still see the features of the young woman he had loved and who had fathered their son.
The others on the jetty were mute spectators to the reunion, all waiting to see how this played out and affected their own futures.
“Kuzumi! They told me you were dead,” Nira said.
Kuzumi felt a stab of pain that she did not step forward and bridge the gap between them. He held up a hand. “Nira!”
“You didn’t die in the plane crash, then,” Nira said, almost to herself. “How did you escape the Russians?”
“The Society traded for me.”
“And you didn’t try to get in contact with me?”
“They told me you were dead,” Kuzumi said. “That you had jumped from the Golden Gate Bridge.”
Nira laughed, but there was no mirth to it. “All these years,” she said, “and it was you ruling the Black Ocean. When did you become Genoysha?”
“In 1968.” Kuzumi’s hand was growing tired, extended as it was, yet still she did not close the gap. Nira’s voice grew firmer. “As you can tell I did not jump from the bridge, although your predecessor sent someone to throw me from it. Unfortunately for him, by that time I had friends who protected me and made it seem I was dead so that they would not send another.”
Kuzumi lowered his hand. He should have known he’d been deceived by Taiyo. As Genoysha he had never trusted anyone with the truth, why should he have expected the Genoysha before him to be any different? The burning question was why? What had happened so many years ago that led to this group being gathered here with the last Genzai Bakudan?
“I did not know,” Kuzumi said.
“No, you didn’t,” Nira said. “But I believe that you would have done the same since you are now Genoysha.”
“I do not understand,” Kuzumi said. “What happened?” ‘
A new voice cut in. “I had a deal with your predecessor,” Feliks called out. “You need to get on your plane and go back home,” he said to Kuzumi. “I don’t know who you are, lady, but you can go home, too.”
Nira slowly turned. “Yes, a deal. I would like to know what the deal was since I was one of the pawns to be sacrificed by that deal.”
“You people are so naive,” Feliks said. “It’s ancient history and it’s going to remain that way.”
“I want some answers,” Nira said. “That is why I arranged for all of you to come here.”
“You arranged?” Feliks said. “You—”
“The Patriots, your man”—Nira nodded toward Lake— “killed on the bridge were paid for and given their mission by me. They didn’t know that, but they didn’t have to. I knew they would draw the Ranch in. And once I had the Ranch drawn in, I knew the words “Genzai Bakudan’ would draw you in, Mr. Feliks. I know your name. I know you worked with Genoysha Taiyo to stop Genzai Bakudan from working.”
She turned to Kuzumi. “And the Black Ocean. I wanted you here, too, although I did not know you were the Genoysha, Kuzumi. Through my underworld sources I alerted the North Koreans to the location of the cave in Hungnam you told me about. I fed them information to keep them going, like dogs on a leash after you destroyed the cave. I directed them here to steal those documents. Documents my daughter has studied for many long years to find out if the 1-24 really made it here and if the midget submarine had actually launched. She only found that out last year. Since then I have been planning this reunion.”
“Your daughter?” Lake said.
Nira kept her attention on Kuzumi. “Yes, my daughter. I remarried after the war. An American. He was a good man and I needed him to keep my place in society even as I used the contacts I had made working for the Black Ocean to work my way into the Yakuza of San Francisco. / I am the Oyabun!”