Dragon - Cussler Clive. Страница 96

In the cockpit, Pitt briefly went through a stretching routine to relieve muscle tension and loosen his joints. He took a series of deep breaths and then he massaged his hands and fingers as if he was a concert pianist about to attack Liszt’s Second Hungarian Rhapsody.

“Eighteen kilometers and closing fast,” came Harper’s voice.

Pitt gripped the wheel on the control column and nodded at Giordino. “Al, read out the airspeed and altitude readings.”

“My pleasure,” Giordino said without the slightest note of excitement. His faith in Pitt was total.

Pitt pressed the transmit button on his radio. “Commencing dive,” he said in the tone of a pathologist announcing an incision on a corpse. Then he took a firm grip on the wheel and eased the control column forward, wondering what he would say when he met the devil. The aircraft nosed over and down, it’s jet engines screaming as it hurtled toward the vast blue sea that filled the entire expanse of the cockpit’s windshield.

58

TSUBOI PUT DOWN the phone and stared dolefully across his desk at Korori Yoshishu. “Our fighter aircraft have reported Hideki’s plane has taken evasive action. They have no time for an attempt to force it back to Soseki Island before it reaches the American naval ship. Their flight commander requests confirmation of our order to shoot it down.”

Yoshishu replied thoughtfully. Already he had mentally accepted Suma’s death. He inhaled a cigarette and nodded. “If there is no other way, Hideki must die to save what we have all struggled so long to build.”

Tsuboi looked into the old dragon’s eyes but saw only a flinty hardness. Then he spoke into the phone. “Order to destroy confirmed.”

As Tsuboi set down the phone, Yoshishu shrugged. “Hideki is only one of along line who sacrificed their lives for the new empire.”

“That is so, but the American government won’t be happy over sacrificing two of their legislators in the same incident.”

“The President will be pressured by our lobbyists and friends in his government to say little and do nothing,” Yoshishu said with shrewd certainty. “The uproar will swirl around Hideki. We will remain in the shadows, free of the storm.”

“And very quietly assume control of Hideki’s corporations.”

Yoshishu nodded slowly. “That is a law of our brotherhood.”

Tsuboi looked at the older man with renewed respect. He understood how Yoshishu had survived when countless other underworld leaders and Gold Dragons had fallen by the wayside. He knew Yoshishu was a master at manipulating others, and no matter who crossed him, no matter how strong his enemies, he was never defeated. He was, Tsuboi had come to realize, the most powerful man in the world who did not hold public office.

“The world news media,” Yoshishu continued, “is like a voracious dragon that devours a scandal. But quickly tiring of the taste, it moves on to another. Americans forget quickly. The death of two of their countless politicians will soon fade.”

“Hideki was a fool!” Tsuboi lashed out sharply. “He began to think he was a god. As with most men, when they become too powerful and self-worshipping, he made grave mistakes. Kidnapping American congressional members from their own soil was idiotic.”

Yoshishu did not immediately reply but looked across Tsuboi’s desk. Then he said quickly, “You are like a grandson to me, Ichiro, and Hideki was the son I never had. I must bear the blame. If I had kept a tighter rein on him, this disaster would not have happened.”

“Nothing has changed.” Tsuboi shrugged. “The attempt by American intelligence agents to sabotage the Kaiten Project was checked. We are as powerful as before.”

“Still, Hideki will be sorely missed. We owe him much.”

“I would have expected no less if our positions were reversed.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t hesitate to throw yourself on the sword if necessary,” Yoshishu said with a condescending smile.

Tsuboi was too sure of his abilities to even consider failing. He was of the new breed and would never have the slightest intention of stepping aside by sticking a knife in his gut. “Our financial and industrial empire will continue to expand without Hideki,” he said without remorse. “We must harden our hearts and push forward.”

Yoshishu saw the look of ambition in Tsuboi’s eyes. The young financial wizard was too anxious to step into Suma’s shoes. “I leave it to you, Ichiro, to arrange a fitting ceremony for our friend when we enshrine his spirit at Yasukuni,” said Yoshishu, referring to Suma as if he had been dead for days.

Tsuboi dismissed this with a wave of one hand. He rose to his feet and leaned across the desk. “Now, Korori, with the Kaiten Project operational, we must seize the moment to undermine European and American economic independence.”

Yoshishu nodded, his white hair falling forward over his brow. “I agree, we cannot allow Hideki’s death to delay our timetable. You must return to Washington immediately and dictate our demands to the President for the extension of our financial ventures in America.”

“And if he doesn’t accept our demands?”

“I’ve studied the man for years. He’s a realist. He will see that we are throwing a rope to his dying country. He knows of our Kaiten Project and what it can do. Have no fear, the President of the United States will deal, and so will Congress. What choice do they have?”

“Twenty-two hundred,” Giordino droned as he read aloud the altitude in meters and the airspeed in knots. “Speed five-twenty.”

The ocean was rising rapidly, the scattered whitecaps growing larger. They darted through a wisp of cloud. There was almost no sensation of speed except for the screaming engines that Pitt held on full power. It was next to impossible to judge ‘height above water. Pitt put his faith in Giordino, who in turn relied on the instruments to warn him when to pull level.

“Where are they?” he asked into his microphone.

“This is Ray Simpson, Dirk,” came the voice of the commander who had briefed them on the Ibis. “I’ll talk you in.”

“Where are they?” Pitt repeated.

“Thirty kilometers and closing fast.”

“I’m not surprised,” said Pitt. “They can’t be more than a thousand knots faster than this bus.”

“Fifteen hundred,” read Giordino. “Speed five-ninety.”

“I wish I’d read the flight manual,” Pitt muttered under his breath.

“Twelve hundred meters. Speed six-fifty. Looking good.”

“How do you know?”

“It seemed the thing to say.” Giordino shrugged.

At that instant, an alarm gong began sounding in the cockpit. They had taken the aircraft beyond its safety limits into the realm of the unknown.

“One thousand meters. Speed seven-forty. Wings, don’t fail us now.”

Now within visible range, the lead Japanese aircraft’s pilot centered the red dot that appeared in his targeting system’s TV monitor on the diving tilt-turbine. The optical computer took over the firing sequence and launched the missile.

“Air-to-air missile on the way,” Simpson warned them in an ominous voice.

“Alert me when it’s closed to within one kilometer,” ordered Pitt quickly.

“Six hundred meters,” Giordino warned Pitt. “Speed eight hundred. Now is the time.”

Pitt did not waste his breath on a reply but pulled back on the control column. The tilt-rotor responded as if it was a glider gripped by a giant hand. Smoothly, in a perfectly curved arc, it swooped into level flight perilously low, less than seventy meters above the water.

“Missile closing, three kilometers,” Simpson said, his voice flat and empty.

“Al, begin maximum tilt to engines.” Pitt hesitated.

Almost instantly, it seemed, Simpson called out, “One kilometer.”