Welcome to
Where YOU can learn to survive!
"The Roacherian Effect" A novel by John C. Delavan
Chapter Fourteen
From his seat on the dais in the main hall, Kil Choong Pak gazed impassively down at the two Americans, all outward emotion concealed behind half-closed eyelids. He'd been sitting silently for fifty-seven minutes, his hands folded in his lap and concealed beneath the folds of his robes. Arnburg and Peterson, forced to their knees on the polished wooden floor in front of the dais, wondered how long this would continue.
Upon their arrival at Pak's stronghold with Choi they had been taken captive by the Korean guards at the temple gate and kept separated from each other until they were brought before Pak an hour ago. They had been searched and mildly interrogated by Choi as to the whereabouts of the file documents. The interrogation had consisted of a low intensity beating while bound hand and foot to a chair. Neither Arnburg nor Peterson felt inclined to tell Choi anything. In fact, Arnburg spit in Choi's face during the proceedings. Arnburg and Peterson had often caused each other far more pain during the sadomasochistic encounters they both enjoyed.
For his part Choi was beginning to sweat profusely. He had ordered the arrest of the two Americans the moment they stepped inside and he heard the massive temple doors swing softly shut behind them. The guards, armed with old Soviet AK-47 assault rifles, reacted instantly and the two Americans were taken without a struggle. Choi had them separated then commenced with the interrogations on his own authority. He had fervently hoped to present Pak with the plans for the Roacherian Effect device. Now he was beginning to wonder if, perhaps, he'd made another mistake.
Without moving Pak called an attendant to his side. In a low, barely audible voice he ordered his American visitors taken to the guest quarters to be bathed, fed and properly clothed.
Turning to Arnburg and Peterson and speaking through an interpreter he said, "I beg your forgiveness for the manner in which you were treated upon your arrival here. These things were done without my knowledge or consent. I trust you will find the remainder of your stay most enjoyable and worry free." Pak spoke English quite well but it didn't suit him to let them know that -- yet.
"We will talk of our mutual business at a later time," he added. With a wave of his hand the Americans were escorted from the great hall; free of their bonds, but no less prisoners in a very real way.
As Pak finished speaking Choi felt his knees weaken. He was unable to look directly at Pak who had now turned away from the departing Americans and fixed his attention directly on Choi.
Choi fell to his knees on the wooden floor and pressed his forehead close to the polished surface. First one drop of sweat, then another, began a small pool under the end of his nose. His fear mounted, becoming a physical force in his body which he managed to control only by sheer will power.
Pak had known Choi was on his way with the two Americans even before they had departed Kempo International Airport in Seoul. He had also rightly guessed just who was in charge of whom in their party. He had then alerted his guards to be wary but to follow Choi's orders unless it appeared as though he were turning traitor.
After the Americans had been taken captive Pak had known about the short interrogation and, through hidden microphones, had heard every word. Since the Americans seemed to be getting the better of Choi, Pak had seen fit to let the situation go on a little longer.
Through his network of followers Pak had already been informed about recent events in Japan including the girl's rape, torture and murder and the search for Arnburg and Peterson by Skipper Mason and Officer Nakagawa.
He'd now decided how he would deal with Choi.
"This life is full of surprises, Dae Suk," Pak said, speaking to Choi as a kindly grandfather would to a favorite grandson. "I am surprised that you, who are now a man of position and wealth, should still have need of your sexual perversions. I am also surprised, Dae Suk, that you would fail so completely in a matter so simple as arranging this small exchange." His voice had grown increasingly menacing, the last few words dripping with venom. Choi felt his stomach lurch and fought the wave of nausea that caught him unexpectedly. The bitter taste of bile and fear filled his mouth and he was terrified he'd lose control of his bowels.
"I should end your life now, Dae Suk," Pak continued, his voice regaining its grand fatherly tone. "But I feel some remaining threads of compassion for a man who has served The Way for so long. I will, therefore, grant you one final opportunity to prove your worthless life has meaning.
"You will go at once to the United States and find out all you can about a man named Skipper Mason who has been interfering with our business. If he has a family, be sure we will be able to put sufficient pressure on them to ensure his cooperation. I will take care of all other matters myself. Do you understand, Dae Suk?" Pak's voice retained the same volume but had lost all warmth. It carried a note of cruelty and hate that caused Choi to shiver uncontrollably.
"Yes, Do Ju Nim." Choi managed to gain control of himself by focusing on the one ray of hope open to him -- he hadn't been ordered killed. In fact all was not yet lost to him; he'd been given an opportunity to redeem himself and things might still work out to his ultimate satisfaction. For all the things Dae Suk Choi may have been, he was neither a pessimist nor a quitter.
* *
Skipper and Yoshi had not been killed in the carefully orchestrated attack and Kubota was furious. There was little he could do about it now except try to rectify the mistake. Through Sasaki, and with almost no one else knowing, he had Skipper imprisoned in a small police sub-station jail built during the second world war. The jail had been marked for demolition and offered several solitary confinement cells. It hadn't held a prisoner in nearly a week and was perfect for Kubota's purpose. The staff was minimal and very little pressure had been required within the department to see that Sasaki and a few other officers on Kubota's payroll were assigned to replace the skeleton crew who had previously manned this station. Kubota then "requested" that Skipper commit "suicide." Sasaki would see to it.
Skipper had been held in isolation for almost twenty-four hours since the fight at his apartment and subsequent arrest. He hadn't seen a doctor or anyone else except a guard who brought him his only meal in all that time, a small bowl of rice and a small cup of murky water.
His injuries weren't as bad as he'd first feared though his left forearm was very swollen and he thought the ulna might be cracked or broken. His shoulder blade was sore as was most of his body, but he was pretty sure all the other injuries would heal in a few days if he could get food and rest.
He'd had plenty of time to think during his confinement and had reached some conclusions. He'd seen the officer who arrested him several times before. Whenever Skipper and Yoshi had come and gone from the complex he had been the gate guard; but never before had the man done more than give a smart salute and robot-like wave to admit them. This time he had nodded to them as though to tell them everything was all right. That was what had bothered Skipper in the elevator. It was the departure from routine that tripped his danger alarms. Skipper strongly suspected Sensei Kubota was behind the attack and he wondered just how far Kubota's cancer had spread within the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department.
Skipper's thoughts turned to Yoshi and he prayed fervently that his friend was alive and in good hands. He grimly determined that should he get out of this the guard would pay along with everyone who had anything to do with the theft of the Roacherian Effect file. It was a foregone conclusion that Kubota would pay...
However, Skipper's primary concern right then was getting out of here, wherever 'here' was; and so far, nobody had handed him a key.