The Devil's Playground Read online

economics, to him?this deal sounded a good one. The financial risk to TLH was minimal.

  "Mr. President, who will be running point on this deal from your Administration?"Asked Thomas.

  The Chief of Staff looked at Eric Lambert for a moment. Immediately the man took the hint. He got up, said his goodbyes first to the President, then everybody else. He quietly left the room. Seconds after he had left, the President's secretary opened the door to the Oval Office. A tall muscular well-dressed man and a person that Fielding knew well followed her in.

  "Director Young and Mr. Ashley, thank you for coming," the President said as the men all got to greet the both of them.

  "Director," said the veteran diplomat with a nod. To which, he earned one back from David Young.

  "Jack Fielding," said the Ambassador offering his hand to the man standing at his side.

  "Ambassador," replied Robin Ashley warmly while taking hold of his hand firmly.

  "Sir Thomas, I believe you already know Mr. Ashley," the President said by way of an introduction.

  "Ashley," Thomas said in a clipped manner and narrowed eyes while offering his hand.

  "Sir Thomas," Rob said as he took Thomas's hand firmly.

  Jack watched Thomas shake hands with the Director. He could have sworn that one could have cut the tension in the room with a knife. He also noted that Thomas's eyes looked as dead as a shark's. It sent a shiver down his spine.

  The Ambassador knew why that was the case. The Director represented the very intelligence service that his friend believed had indirectly caused the death of the woman he loved by their support of the failed coup d'?tat leader in Adwalland who had initiated an act of revenge on Thomas in which she was killed.

  Introductions out of the way, the five men sat back down and Jack's mind started to wander as to where Ashley and Thomas knew each other from, not for long though.

  This time it was Thomas instead of the President who spoke first. His eyes never lost sight of Young's in the process.

  "So the CIA is running point?" Thomas asked with a resigned look of barely veiled disgust.

  "Mr. Ashley, would you please explain to Sir Thomas as to the reasons why?" the President ordered in a manner that suggested to Jack that he wasn't the only one to pick up on the fact that the mood of the meeting had just changed from one of being cordial to one of suppressed hatred.

  Up until the appearance of Young and Ashley in the meeting, Thomas had decided that, notwithstanding the proposal presented by the President and his adviser Eric Lambert being economically attractive, he was going to decline the offer on the grounds that he didn't want TLH to be seen as supporting a plan that would put at risk the security of Russia's Far Eastern regions.

  "I will end up being the next Khodorkovsky!" he had grimly thought, referring to the last Oligarch who went up against the former Mayor of St. Petersburg and Head of the FSB, who was now Russia's President. The appearance of the CIA Director at the meeting though now meant this whole meeting had moved from of a request to one of a "Presidential Directive" and as such meant Thomas never had any choice.

  "Fuck!" Thomas thought bitterly. "I have been ambushed!" He fully understood that he was now about to be on the end of an Executive Order that had been issued by the man sitting in front of him with the advice and consent of the National Security Council. In effect, this entire meeting was now one of National Security Policy and carried with it the full force and effect of law. If Thomas refused to do what they asked, then the federal law enforcement agencies could use it as a basis to either arrest him if he leaked or shared with the Mayor the content of the meeting, or worse still, freeze the TLH assets in the U.S.

  He turned his head in the direction of Jack Fielding. Thomas wondered for a second if the man knew this was about to happen. The shock on his face told him everything. He didn't.

  "Sir Thomas, what we are about to discuss is subject to the full force of the law and is a Presidential Decision Directive and thereby is classified," said the former Fixer for the Sheikh of Dubai and man he knew was CIA Intelligence Officer from their last meeting in Adwalland.

  "I understand," was all Thomas replied with a look that said it all.

  8

  Osaka 1996

  In the years before World War II, the Yakuza, the generic name given to the criminals divided into 5,200 gangs, had at one point been larger than the entire Imperial Japanese Army. Yet, because they were always fighting and killing each other in their thirst for territories, the Yakuza as an entity had remained disorganized until a man who known as Yoshio Katayama had brought peace to the warring factions and unified them. Considered a first rate political operator who had served the Emperor before the Second World War via a mixture of corruption, espionage, and crime, known in Japan as the "black mist," Yoshio ruthlessly used his network of spies to procure from around the world materials the Japanese desperately needed to ensure his country's mounting war efforts were met. He had been so successful in his endeavors that the grateful Emperor had awarded him the title of Rear Admiral for his efforts.

  Although classified as a Class A war criminal by the Allies, a distinction they usually reserved only for cabinet ministers, ultra-nationalists, and high-ranking military leaders of the regime, because the U.S. occupational forces needed a go-between them and the Yakuza crime gangs that were running amok, the Emperor's Negotiator had only served two years of his sentence. Then with the unofficial approval of the man the Japanese call the Gaijin Shogun, General Douglas MacArthur, he had ruthlessly eliminated anyone who stood in his way.

  Despite his alliance with the Gajin Shogun Katayama throughout had remained a fervent nationalist, who while pretending to be on the side of the Americans, used his power with one aim in mind: the restoration of the Japanese Empire to its former glory.

  Although ultimately failing in the end, Katamaya never gave up on the dream, which was why he charged his son and heir known as "Nidaime" to carry on his life's work. Yet little did the elderly man know that he ultimately sealed the fate of Japan forever when he made such a decision and it was all because his son had a secret-his mother was Korean.

  His mother, a Gippeumjo, had been placed amongst the Zainichi of Japan by O Kang Ru as a young girl for use as a potential honey trap. Just out of her teens she had been a singer in one of the many clubs that his father owned in Osaka.

  Considered one of the most exquisite, elegant women in Japan with her green eyes, it wasn't much of a surprise to those of Osaka's underworld that the young godfather's mother had caught the eye of his father who, despite a near fifty year age gap, had made the girl his mistress. Sensing an opportunity, O Kang Ru ordered the young girl to bear children for the Kumicho, which resulted in her giving bitrh to a son and daughter.

  Ruthless, efficient, and appearing to be ultra-nationalist in the mold of his father, the younger Yorijo Katayama was anything but. Unknown to his deceased father, his mother had brought her children up to honor the personality cult of the Kim family and, just as she had been all her life, become intelligence assets of the North Koreans.

  It was because of this secret, although he was unaware at the time, O Su Lee found himself sitting alone in the private room of Yorijo Katayama's club about to discuss a business deal to supply his country's new business partner with not only counterfeit cigarettes, money, medicines, narcotics, and people for the sex trade, while in return, asking him to provide components for the stalled North's missile program.

  "Welcome, O-San," said Yorijo respectfully.

  "I am deeply honored be here, Kumicho," O respectfully replied, using the word for Supreme Godfather. The man, who was dressed in a typical black suit, looked pleased. He nodded his head at the use of his title.

  "The honor is mine," he replied warmly. "Now tell me, how I can be of assistance to the Supreme Leader and Room 39?" he asked out of the blue in fluent Korean, getting straight to the point. O was surprised; he had not expected the man who led a clan that brought in billions o
f dollars a year from criminal enterprises to be so blunt, speak his language, or be so respectful towards the Supreme Leader.

  O gathered his thoughts and tried to read the man's face. When he had been given this mission by his father, he had been doubtful. The Katayama-Gumi had a reputation of hating all Koreans, seeing them no better than second-class citizens. Indeed, in the past whenever of their agents had tried to make contact and do business with elements of the gang, they had turned up in gutters of Osaka with their throats cut.

  O remembered how his father had removed his glasses before he carefully took a moment to examine them so he could check for grease on the lenses. He had told his son, "The new Kumicho has expressed a willingness to meet with our representatives. I am sending you because this mission is of great importance to our Supreme Leader. Because it requires somebody who not only commands respect," he had continued, "but more importantly gives the correct level of respect due to his new position as the head of the Katayama-Gumi."

  "Yes, honored father," O had reluctantly replied, believing he was about to be sent on a suicide mission.

  Coming back to the present, O replied with the outline he had been instructed to present to the man, who in turn listened quietly without comment or a flicker of emotion. Only when O had finished with his overview did the new head of