Katayama-Gumi speak.
"I need a hundred kilograms of methamphetamines," he said in Korean. "Can your people supply this?" Yorijo asked.
"Yes," O replied without hesitation.
"Good. I have a man who is based in Seoul," Yorijo said. "He is a Captain in the American Air Force. He will take care of transportation for us. Once you're ready to deliver I will send you his contact details at the Travel Agency," he said referring to the non-official cover identity that O used when in Japan, a humble Japanese Travel Agent of Zainichi descent.
Once again for the second time this evening O found he was in shock for he believed only members of 'Room 39' knew that identity. Yet it appeared as if nothing was beyond the grasp of the Yazuka of Osaka. O continued to sit a worried man. His operational security had been compromised. His life was at risk. Trying desperately hard not to show his shock, the young intelligence officer decided to nod his approval at the crime lord's suggestion.
"Now tell me what components the Supreme Leader needs?" he asked as if reading O's mind. Again O nodded before giving him the list of components.
The man took his time reading it then offered a smile.
"Two weeks," he replied. "The items will be delivered via the Mangyongbong-92." He said referring to the ferry that operated between Nigata in Japan and Wonsan in, North Korea.
"A fair exchange," O said as a beautiful elegant young woman dressed in the traditional clothing of a geisha entered into the room. Without saying a word, she stepped behind Yurijo Katayama and removed her dress to reveal her creamy exquisitely dragon tattooed skin to O's eyes. Although bewitched by the woman's beauty, O didn't say a word. Instead he watched as she seductively began to remove the Kumicho suit jacket, tie and shirt, displaying to O the full glory of his tattoos.
"The mark of his brotherhood and the seat of his power."
With the meeting coming to an end, O decided the time was right to hand over the letter he carried with him from the Supreme Leader for the man sitting in front of him. Taking the treasured note carefully out of his pocket, he handed it over to Yorijo. This time it was the turn of the crime lord to look surprised when he caught sight of the seal on the letter.
"Leave us," he ordered the woman abruptly. Although shocked, she did as she was told. Once she had left the room only then did Yorijo break the seal on the letter and read its contents. As he read it, O could see the man had tears in eyes.
For the third time that night O found he was shock. This type of reaction was commonplace amongst Koreans or the Zainichi whenever the Supreme Leader honored them; it certainly wasn't amongst the Japanese, yet alone a Yakuza Leader.
When Yorijo had finished reading the letter, he carefully placed in front of him on the floor.
"I am the Hawk," he said to O. "I am yours to command."
The young intelligence officer's eyes immediately widened in shock his father had just made him the control officer of Room 39's most valuable intelligence asset in Japan!
1998
Drugs Enforcement Agency Special Agent Sam Dawkins sat in the white Toyota van watching a set of screens in front of him with a young officer from the Japanese National Police Agency's Special Assault Team. They were waiting for their target to turn up.
The last six months had seen him tracking down the gang's partners in America, Europe, and Asia of the man they were about arrest. During that time, he had learned an enormous amount about him and the group of which he was the Godfather.
Since the early 1980s, although they had always known about the Yakuza's links with the drug cartels of South America and their involvement in the drugs trade of South East Asia, it was only when their representatives attempted to make contact with one of Mexican cartels in Los Angeles in an effort to supply crystal meth to them did they start to focus on them as a source of the product rather than just the distributors of heroin and cocaine. So far it had been massive operation involving over 150 agents across Asia in tracking him via his representatives.
A group it transpired that included a former Air Force Captain in the U.S. Air Force who ran the Clan's cargo planes, a British stockbroker from Hong Kong, who looked after and ran their money, a Chinese ceramics exporter based in Shenyang in the North East of China whom it transpired, was the link to the Korean factories, a Malaysian ship owner based in Manila in the Philippines who operated the transportation, and finally a man they couldn't touch who was a diplomat attached to the Turkmenistan Embassy in China, whose role was to look after distribution into Europe before they finally had tracked down "DRAGON HEAD," the codename they had given the ultimate godfather by following the head of the Koreatown Travel Agency back to him.
As in most cases, the DEA had only discovered them by accident when the American and the Stockbroker, looking to expand their client base, had offered to supply one hundred kilos of methamphetamine to a man they thought was a member of the Tijuana Cartel but was, in fact, a confidential source working with the DEA.
In most circumstances, the DEA wouldn't have bothered with them for they thought they were a couple of amateurs, but they quickly changed their minds when their labs confirmed the product was ninety-nine percent pure. Yet that wasn't what surprised them the most, it was the revaltion of the source and ultimate owner and distributor of the meth.
"Our supplier is the only organization that is able to produce meth in North Korea," the American offered over a beer with the informant. With orders to track the supplier to its source from the Director of the DEA himself no less, Sam and his team of agents agreed to purchase the hundred kilos from the pair and traveled to Hong Kong to make the deal.
Once in Hong Kong they had met with the Englishman and the American Air Force officer at the Captain's Bar in the famous Mandarin Oriental hotel located on The Island.
"Don't worry old boy," said the broker, a typical public school sounding Englishman who ran the Yazuka's money during the day at Litchfield-Hirsch, a British Merchant Bank with its origins in the opium trading of the 1840s, when Sam had enquired if they could arrange transportation. "We will transport it through the Philippines to Thailand," he said. "From there we ship it by boat to Long Beach."
"How much can you get us?" queried Sam.
"Oh as much as you want, old boy," replied the annoying Englishman as he took another sip of the beer from the bar's famous tankards.
"We anticipated, once we found and made contact with you boys that a large order would be made," he continued, making every effort to impress a man he thought was a senior capo in the cartel. Not to mention already working out his commission on the deal, thought Sam.
"At the moment we have a ton in our warehouse in Manila," offered the American not wanting to be left out of the showing off.
"Jesus," thought Sam, working out the street value quickly in his head. "That's $40,000,000 of product!"
To show good faith, the Englishman and the American arranged for a dry run by sending a shipping container of tea leaves from the Philippines to Thailand then on to Long Beach as promised on a boat via the Malaysian's shipping company to test the delivery channel that would later be used to ship the meth. Once the illicit payment was received into the trading account of a Travel Agency business based in Osaka's at the Hirsch-Litchfield Bank, they sent the drugs whereupon the enforcement officials seized the American and the Brit who were in Thailand overseeing the shipment.
With a death sentence hanging over them both it was relatively easy for the DEA to get the terrified pair extradited to States without a fight. Nor was it much of a surprise when they cut their own deals in return for witness protection and led them to their source who, much to the surprise of their friends in the National Police Agency of Japan, led all the way back to the Kumicho of the Katayama-Gumi clan himself.
They could not touch ceramics exporter, who sent the drugs to Manila, as he was in China, nor could they get to the Turkmen who was attached to his country's embassy in Beijing. So that left Sam with the two they were now watching: the M
alaysian who ran an import and export shipping firm in Manila and a Japanese travel agent whom they had worked out was in charge of the money laundering operations.
If they could turn these two, then they stood half a chance of getting the kingpin Yorijo Katayama, a man who using a mixture of violence, murder, and ruthless efficiency was now the undisputedly the Kumicho of all of Japan's Yazuka gangs.
"Dawkins-San," said the young officer beside him. "He is here," he said as if he were surprised that the Kumicho would even deign to meet with the men in person. The DEA agent focused his eyes on the face.
He was tall, in his late forties with a small moustache, short jet-black hair, and eyes that appeared to Sam would not look out of place on a Marko shark dressed in a black suit, the preferred color of the Yazuka. The man looked every bit the menacing thug he were as he stepped out of the black modified black Mercedes S500, accompanied by two men and a woman.
"That's his Saiko-Koman," said the young officer pointing at the man on Katayama's left using his title that translated meant "Advisor," the de-facto number two in the Katayama-Gumi. "The other is his trusted bodyguard," he continued.
"And the woman?" asked Dawkins, referring to the beautiful woman in her late thirties at Katamaya's side.
"His Anego," the officer answered, meaning 'his wife.'
"Okay, stand by,"