Red Shark

“My dear friend,” Jin said in perfect Japanese, “I want to emphasize that, for all intents and purposes, Kim Jong-il has ceased to exist. The Korean People’s Court has convicted him of treason and ordered his execution. Even if Kim had not buckled to pressure from the Americans to disarm, I would have deposed him. He and his father, Kim il Sung — and everything they represented — have passed from the scene. We live in a new era.” As if to confirm this, he lifted a hand and, with a gesture of dismissal, chopped the air.

“After the operation has been completed, the United States will need all the help it can get from its allies to recover. The European nations will be able to provide only a small fraction of what they will need. Naturally, Japan will provide the largest share of both financial aid and personnel expert in civil and medical affairs. As for America’s economy, it will be left a shell. In fact, it may never recover. I see the United States breaking up into smaller self-governing units, all of them fighting for scarce resources. Should that happen, Japan would be in a position to dictate its own terms with each entity, rather than with a weakened central government in Washington. Either way, Japan will dominate the world. As a result, Europe’s importance will wane, as will the Canadian and South American economies that have harnessed their future to America’s. And with the collapse of South Korea, another of America’s client states, the DPRK will take control of the peninsula — with Japan’s help, of course.”

Tokugawa’s face betrayed no emotion as he said, “To accomplish this goal we must brush aside the animosities that have existed between our two countries for centuries. How do you propose to do that?”

“Under my leadership the DPRK will open its doors to Japan. The West believes that we will never modernize. They think we are a feudal society, closed and self-absorbed. They believe we lack modern science, technology, and medicine. But we will prove them wrong. If the United States had not attacked us in 1950 and forced us to defend all of Korea against their aggression, we could have powered one of the greatest societal transformations in the history of East Asia.”

“But that is history,” said Tokugawa, “and now we face the future.”

“I assure you, dear friend, that the DPRK harbors no ill will toward the Japanese people for past misunderstandings. When the Americans are neutralized, and with Pyongyang’s doors open to Japan, the North will prosper and both of our countries will benefit. Equally important, you will have avenged your family.”

Tokugawa remembered the sorrowful eyes of his grandfather and grandmother, who had survived the war and with whom, at age twelve, Tokugawa had been sent to live. He remembered how day after day they’d drummed into him like a mantra: “You are Japanese. Be brave. Be proud!” He remembered that his father had joined them upon his return from wartime duty at Unit 731 in Manchuria. He’d been thin, haggard, and still in shock over the deaths of his wife and two older children in Nagasaki, and over Japan’s defeat and his personal failure to prevent it.

And Tokugawa remembered the tall American MPs in their white helmets and leggings, and two army officers who had pulled up in front of the grandparents’ house to arrest his father.

There had been talk that the Allies intended to prosecute Japanese army officers accused of committing war crimes. General MacArthur had published a list of those slated for arrest and trial, and Shigeru Tokugawa’s name had appeared on the list of Class A criminals. One day the boy had heard his father say, “I won’t be judged before a conquerors’ court.” His grandfather had used a word Iseda had not been familiar with: koshukei. He’d looked it up in a dictionary and learned that it meant “to be hanged to death.”

The Americans had waited while Shigeru Tokugawa had gathered a few personal things from his bedroom for the trip to Sugamo Prison, renamed, as they all knew, U.S. Army XI Corps Stockade No. 1. Iseda, huddled with his grandmother, had watched the humiliating event unfold, not fully understanding what he was witnessing or why. After all, wasn’t his father a patriot, a warrior who’d tried to save his country from destruction by America? And now the American soldiers had arrived to take him away.