Cajun Justice(51)

“I am part of the Tokyo aero club,” Tanaka said. “I build and fly remote-controlled airplanes on the weekends.”

“That’s good to know,” Cain said. “I’d like to go with you one weekend.”

“I would be happy for you to come.”

Cain directed everyone back into the building for another all-hands meeting.

“We have to be prepared for any type of attack,” he warned once everyone was huddled into the break room. “But you’re probably well aware that statistically, knife attacks are the most common in Japan. A few things to remember about knife attacks. Rule number one is don’t get cut. Rule number two is, if you do get cut, don’t freak out. Chances are slim that it’s life-threatening. And most importantly, rule number three is always control the hand with the knife. If there are no questions, let’s head outside and act out some scenarios.”

One of the guards said something in Japanese that made Tanaka laugh.

“What did he say?” Cain asked.

Tanaka smiled. “He said this used to be an easy job before you showed up.”

Cain chuckled. “It’s still easier than digging ditches in Louisiana. Did I ever tell you about my first job?”

“No, but I’m interested.”

“One evening over sake, I’ll tell you all about it. But I’m not ever staying at a capsule hotel again!”

They laughed together. Their working partnership was forming well.

After practicing knife-disarming techniques with fake knives, Cain pulled aside Morita-san. “Normally, Secret Service agents who drive the American president receive months of specialized driver training. Everything from counter-ambush recognition, J-turns, bootleggers, other evasive maneuvers, and ramming techniques.”

Mr. Morita looked at Cain in confusion.

“I realize all those terms have no meaning to you, and that tomorrow you will not be driving Sato-san to the press conference because we’re taking a helicopter. But that doesn’t mean you have the day off. You still have to drive the car to the conference just in case we have any problems with the helicopter. Murphy’s Law.”

“Mur-fee?” Morita-san asked.

“It means what can go wrong will go wrong. We’re under the gun and simply don’t have enough time to go over everything. So I just want to make sure you understand a few basics about driving a VIP.”

“Driving what?”

“It’s an acronym,” Cain replied. “VIP. Very important person.”

“What is acronym?”

“Never mind that. The protectee must be kept safe.”

“Protect-tee?” Mr. Morita pronounced each syllable as if it were a question.

Frustrated, Cain just replied, “Sato-san!”

“Hai!” Morita-san nodded his head vigorously up and down in recognition.

“Hai,” Cain muttered under his breath.





Chapter 43



The helicopter pilot was adamant that it was too dangerous to fly because of the marine layer that had formed over the water. A light ocean breeze had blown fog toward the city, and it hovered from about one hundred feet above the ground to at least one thousand feet.

“Any chopper pilot worth his salt could easily fly through this cloud layer,” Cain told Tanaka. “That’s what the instruments are for.”

Tanaka sucked air through his teeth. “The pilot said the company policy requires at least one-mile visibility.”

Cain shook his head in disbelief. He looked skyward, momentarily thinking back to his flying career, during which he’d flown countless missions referencing just the instruments in the cockpit. He turned to Mr. Morita. “Murphy’s Law.”

“Hai! Mur-fee.” Morita smiled nonchalantly.

Cain looked back at Tanaka. “Our team isn’t ready for a ground movement like this. I’m going to go talk with Sato-san.” He walked into the main office and approached Sato, who was rehearsing his speech.

“The helicopter is not available today,” Cain informed him.

“Then we will take my car,” Mr. Sato replied, more concerned about his speech to the public than about how he would arrive there.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, sir. I don’t recommend it. If we wait just a few hours, this fog will burn off and we can take the helicopter. My team is getting better every day, but they are not ready for a high-stakes movement like this yet.”

“Our stock is dropping too fast. I must give this speech, even if it puts me in danger.”

“Sir,” Cain continued, pleading, “this is a high-profile event publicized in advance. Your picture is plastered all over the news. The vehicles are not bulletproof, the Japanese government doesn’t authorize me to carry a firearm, and it’s going to be at least a one-hour drive.”

“I understand your concerns. That’s why I hired you—to free me to concentrate on saving this business. We must go by car. End of discussion.”

End of discussion, Cain thought. He had heard that phrase before, and he didn’t like how that scenario had ultimately ended. “Copy that, sir. Give me ten minutes to activate the foul-weather plan, and my team will be in place to transport you.”

Cain quickly arranged for the two-vehicle motorcade to stage outside the front doors of the main lobby. The engines were running, the gas tanks were full of premium fuel, and the drivers were in position. He was used to presidential motorcades, which included police motorcycles, decoy vehicles, heavily armed counterassault members, special radar-jamming equipment, extra vans for the press corps and support staff, and a fully stocked ambulance that carried a doctor and extra vials of the president’s blood type.