All that was as Kai expected, but the second lead story worried him. It showed angry Japanese nationalists massing in the Tokyo dawn to protest against the bombing. The news reports noted that among Japanese people there was already a certain amount of dislike of Koreans, eagerly fanned by racist propagandists, and only partly countered by the love Japanese youngsters had for Korean movies and pop music. An ethnic Korean teacher had been beaten up by a thug outside a school in Kyoto. The chairman of an extreme right-wing political group was interviewed and, in a hoarse and excited voice, called for all-out war against North Korea.
Prime Minister Ishikawa had ordered a nine o’clock meeting of his Cabinet. The protests would put pressure on the Japanese government to take drastic action, but President Green would be doing her best to restrain Japan. Kai hoped Ishikawa could keep a lid on it.
In the car on the way to the Guoanbu he read army intelligence reports of the progress of the battle of Pyongyang. It seemed the South Korean invaders had moved quickly and were now besieging the capital. He hoped to learn more from General Ham.
In the office he turned on the TV and saw the Japanese prime minister beginning a press conference after his Cabinet meeting. ‘The Pyongyang regime has committed an act of war against Japan, and I have no choice but to order the Japanese Self-Defence Forces to prepare to take action to repel aggression by North Korea.’
This was doublespeak, of course. Article 9 of the Japanese constitution forbade the government to go to war. However, it could exercise its right to self-defence. Anything the Japanese military did had to be framed as defence.
But the announcement was enigmatic for a different reason. Against whom were they now defending themselves? Two rival armies were contending for North Korea, and neither of them was responsible for yesterday’s bombing. The regime that had done that no longer existed.
The head of the Japan desk told Kai what Chinese spies in Tokyo were saying. Japanese and American military bases were bustling with activity but did not seem to be going to war. Japanese jets were conducting surveillance but no bombers were taking off. No destroyers had left harbour and no launchers were being loaded with missiles. Satellite photographs confirmed what the spies said. All was calm.
General Ham called from Pyongyang. ‘The ultras are losing,’ he said.
Kai had feared as much. ‘Why?’
‘The South Koreans are too numerous and too well armed. Our supplies from China haven’t all arrived yet and our tanks are still on their way here from bases in the east. We’re running out of time.’
‘What will Pak do?’
‘Ask Beijing for troops.’
‘We’ll say no. We don’t want to bring the Americans in.’
‘Then we’ll lose Pyongyang to the South Koreans.’
That, too, was unthinkable.
Suddenly Ham said: ‘Got to go,’ and disconnected.
It must be humiliating for Pak to beg Beijing for help, Kai thought. But what else could the rebel leader do? Kai’s thoughts were interrupted and he was called to the conference room. The Japanese government had acted.
Twelve jet fighters had taken off from Naha base in Okinawa heading west and, minutes later, had begun to patrol the East China Sea between Okinawa and China. Their sweeps were concentrated around a small group of uninhabited islands and rocks called the Diaoyu Islands. These were six hundred miles from Japan but only two hundred miles from China, yet the Japanese claimed sovereignty and called them the Senkaku Islands.
Chinese jets were also in the sky over the East China Sea, and Kai monitored their video feed. He saw the islands, sticking up out of the water as if scattered there carelessly by the ancient gods. As soon as the Japanese planes were in place, two Soryu-class attack submarines surfaced near the islands.
Were the Japanese really choosing this moment to make a point about a bunch of worthless rocks in the sea?
Kai watched as sailors from the Japanese submarines boarded inflatable dinghies and landed on a narrow beach, where they unloaded what might have been hand-held surface-to-air missile launchers. They made their way to one of the few patches of level ground and planted a Japanese flag.
Over the next few minutes they began to erect tents and assemble a field kitchen.
The head of the Japan desk called from the floor below to tell Kai that the Japanese military had announced that ‘as a precaution’ they had set up a forward base on the Senkaku Islands – which, they emphasized, were part of Japan.
A minute later Kai was summoned to Zhongnanhai.
On the way in the car he continued to read the reports and study the video footage. At the same time he had one eye on the radar tracks, which he could watch on his phone. There was no fighting. Right now they were all shadow-boxing.