He staggered. His leg hurt like a bitch. The wounds didn't seem serious, but walking was going to be painful and slow. But what choice did he have? At least one guard had seen him shoot another. Did that man still live? Had he informed his comrades about the kempei officer's strange behavior? Soon the place would be crawling with investigators.

After all, one didn't lose an emperor and then just write it off. No, real kempei would be here soon. The time for masquerading as a kempei officer was over.

Joe limped down the path. His cache of equipment, food, clothes, and the precious radio were miles away. He would either have to get to them or find some other civilian clothing and, once again, let himself be swallowed up and made invisible by the throngs of refugees. Joe could only hope that the Japanese wouldn't be looking too hard for a man with one arm.

Chapter 75

An honor guard of marines stood on the deck of the carrier. Halsey had personally checked to make sure that the rifles they carried were unloaded. The last thing they needed was for someone to go crazy with revenge and shoot the emperor of Japan.

Halsey still couldn't believe this was happening, and he was reasonably sure that Nimitz didn't either. The approaching helicopter had first landed on one of the smaller escort carriers, where it was refueled and sent on to the Midway. It was a shame that helicopters had such short legs, but Halsey was certain that future ones would see the problem rectified.

Almost daintily, the helicopter carrying Hirohito poised above the flight deck and lowered itself to land gently. There was a momentary wait while the blades stopped whirling.

An improvised red carpet was laid from the helicopter to the carrier's superstructure. Then a naval officer in a clean dress uniform walked to the helicopter with as much dignity as he could manage. The hatch was opened and the carrier's band began to play the Japanese national anthem, which was followed by "The Star-Spangled Banner." Halsey thought that the latter was played with more verve and gusto than the former.

Hirohito leaned out of the chopper and stepped onto the deck. There was a collective gasp from the hundreds of crewmen who had gathered around the flight deck for the historic event, even though it had been unpubhcized. The carrier was a small town that kept few secrets.

Hirohito stood for a moment. Then he smiled slightly and walked forward to meet President Harry Truman, who had emerged from the shadows of the superstructure and was walking toward him.

As the men approached each other, the throng of sailors commenced to applaud and then cheer as they realized the significance of what was occurring.

Chapter 76

Japanese naval captain Minoru Genda was almost universally conceded to be a brave and extraordinarily brilliant officer who had a tremendous future before him. In his younger days- he was still only forty-one- many had despaired that he would not live long enough for his brilliance to blossom. He had been part of an acrobatic-flying group and had later been nicknamed the Madman because of his intense feelings that naval air was the way of the future. His fervor in proclaiming that carriers had made battleships obsolete had won him few friends in a big-gun navy.

Genda had helped plan the attack on Pearl Harbor and had taken part in numerous other battles. Some felt that if he had not been sickly during the ill-fated Battle of Midway, it and the war would have turned out differently for Japan.

Most recently, Genda had been assigned to help coordinate Japan's air defenses, which meant he had little to do since Japan's air defenses were virtually nonexistent. Thus, he could often be found at Anami's subterranean headquarters, and his presence was even looked forward to by those who considered him a hero.

After a cursory search for weapons- none of any kind were permitted in Anami's presence- Genda was admitted to Anami's private office. As he entered, a clerk closed the door behind him. As Genda expected, he and Anami were alone. The errand Anami had sent him on required a high degree of secrecy.

But first, there was a personal concern. "Your arm. What happened?" Anami asked.

Genda grimaced. His left arm was in a large cast. "Sir, the trip to Kyushu was even more dangerous than I expected. This is courtesy of an American plane my pilot and I almost couldn't evade. It looks worse than it is, however, and it will heal in a few weeks."

"I am glad for your safe return," Anami said with sincerity. He wished he had many more Gendas to depend on. "But tell me, is the situation as bad as we've been led to believe?"

"It is," Genda conceded sadly. "If anything, it is worse."

The day before, Anami had received frantic coded signals from Kyushu that Hirohito had been kidnapped by an American raiding party. Anami had prevailed on Genda to fly to Camp 7 on Kyushu and verify the disaster.

Genda awkwardly lit a cigarette with his good arm. "I was able to confirm that an American raider force knew precisely where Hirohito was, and after a brief fight, they took him away by helicopters, which they used to fly him out to their ships. Witnesses saw a man fitting Hirohito's description with them, and it may be that the emperor went willingly. A Japanese officer was also seen assisting the Americans, which indicates a conspiracy, at least at the lower level. We must assume that the emperor is in American hands and will cooperate with them. The Japanese officer in question has not been found."

And doubtless won't be, Genda didn't add. Whoever the Japanese officer was and anyone else in on the conspiracy were in hiding and not worth looking for. Hirohito's taking had stunned the Tokyo headquarters, but, so far, the news had not spread to the rest of Japan. It did, however, present a unique opportunity for those brave enough to take it.

Anami took the bad news with surprising calm. Then he smiled grimly. "No," Anami finally said. "Hirohito was murdered by the Americans. It is an unspeakable atrocity that we will blame on them."

"But, sir, Hirohito may make public announcements for the Americans, even calling for surrender. What then?"

Anami slammed his fist on his desk. "They will be denounced as lies and fabrications. We will inform the world that Hirohito is dead and that his son Akihito is the new emperor, and that I have been appointed regent. We shall simply ignore anything Hirohito does and says for the Americans. We will announce that, after murdering him, the Americans have hired an actor to pretend he is the emperor."

Amazing, Genda thought. How could Akihito be proclaimed emperor of anything when no one knew where he was? Anami's control of Japan was far from absolute. Genda forced a smile. "Excellent. But how will that enable us to win the war?"

Anami chuckled. "Why, Captain, we have already won the war. This attempt by the Americans to undermine the Empire shows how bankrupt they are. Our counterattacks will begin very shortly and they will bleed the Americans so badly that they will sue for a peace that leaves us strong."

"And if they don't?"

"Then we will fight on, Genda. We will fight on forever. We will never surrender and be destroyed as the Americans have planned for us."

"Good. Then I will return to my duties with greater zeal."

Genda stood and bowed. The cast on his arm threw him off-balance and he nearly stumbled. He grasped the edge of Anami's desk for support while grimacing in pain.

Anami rose quickly and steadied him. "Genda, are you all right? Perhaps you should see a doctor before going back to duty?"