Second Chance

Chapter 17 - Colonel Namasaki

The morning was overcast. A mist shrouded the sun. Low grey clouds hovered over Beijing. By this time, more than half the city, its air thick with smoke from the rubble, had fallen, and the retreating Chinese rebels were being relentlessly pursued by the Japanese troops. The streets were deserted. And quiet, eerily quiet; not a sound could be heard – there was no wind to stir the leaves or grass, no barking of dogs, and the birds had ceased singing.

Then amidst the silence the sound of moving vehicles was heard. Three vehicles to be exact: two truckloads of Japanese troops, and in between them a jeep carrying Colonel Namasaki. In his late forties and of medium-build, he was smartly dressed in a military uniform, the yellow and red-strip three-star insignia of a full colonel proudly displayed on the shoulder straps. He had a head full of black hair parted in the middle, a slightly pointed chin, and the skin around his small eyes was puffy. His eyebrows were thick and he had a little moustache on his upper lip; and he always wore a smile, the sort of kindly smile that made one feel comfortable with him. If the beast in man had a face, he certainly didn’t look like it.

It was the colonel’s first trip to Beijing. Although the imperial city had retained much of its old-world charm with its mystical Forbidden City, ancient buildings, and narrow cobble-stone streets, he was not impressed. To a man who was immensely proud of his own country’s rapid technological advancement, this was a sure sign of complete degeneration of the once-powerful Middle Kingdom.

Several minutes later, the vehicles slowed down and made a right turn into an open iron-wrought gate that led to a mansion. The building, with its stately pillars and imposing columns, was a magnificent piece of neoclassical architecture. A broad stretch of snowy lawn surrounded the house. Colonel Namasaki stared at the place in awe. So this is how the warlords flaunt their wealth, he thought.

General Tang was already waiting at the portico. Two soldiers stood beside him. Another dozen were patrolling the house. As soon as Colonel Namasaki got down from the jeep, the general walked over to his side and shook his hand warmly, as if they were best friends. Actually this was their first physical encounter together. Before this, they corresponded either by telephone or telegram.

After inquiring about each other’s health and ordering their soldiers to wait at the portico, General Tang led his new-found friend inside the mansion. Communication between them was never a problem as the colonel was fluent in English and several Chinese dialects.

Colonel Namasaki thought he was in another continent when he saw the interior. It had a frantically baroque design with classical Roman statues, busts, and painted ornaments. And the walls and ceilings were adorned with decorated motifs of medallions, vases, and dancing nymphs.

“You have a very beautiful house, General,” the colonel commented in his heavy Japanese accent as he gawked at the surroundings. “The décor here is totally different and grand compared to other Chinese homes – it gives me a feeling that I am no longer on Chinese soil. I like it very much.”

General Tang chuckled. “Thank you, I’ve had this mansion specially built to suit my taste. For your information, I love everything Roman.”

“Hail, Caesar!” Colonel Namasaki wisecracked, which was quite uncharacteristic of him; he was not the type to crack jokes, but in this case he couldn’t help it.

“Hail who?” the general asked, looking at his guest like a dumb turkey.

Colonel Namasaki shrugged. Obviously he didn’t love the Romans enough, he thought.

When both of them had made themselves comfortable in the living room, they got down to business. With a respectful smile, Colonel Namasaki briefed the general about the attack launched by his troops in the city and the retreat of the Chinese rebels.

“We met very little or no resistance at all from the enemy; with only rifles against our tanks, machine guns, and cannons, it was rather a one-sided assault really,” the colonel clarified. “We kept no prisoners. All those captured were either buried alive in mass graves or blown up with landmines. This morning my men reported that, out of the 5,000 rebels, only two hundred or so managed to escape, and they were seen heading towards the east, most probably to join up with our common enemy, Marshal Zhang Zuo-lin, as what you’d expect.”

General Tang, twirling the edge of his moustache with his hand, looked pleased. “Well done, well done indeed,” he praised the colonel. “Everything is going according to plan. When the rebels tell Zhao-lin about the might of your army, he’ll certainly think twice before taking military action on me again. And that bastard, Tong Wing-mun, will regret double-crossing me.”

“I understand Tong-san is still in Beijing. We’ll get him too. He is on top of our most wanted list.”

“That’s another piece of great news; it’ll be a genuine pleasure to see him dead,” General Tang growled.

“You shall not be disappointed,” Colonel Namasaki assured, sipping his sake; General Tang had specially ordered a pot of the Japanese wine for this occasion. “But we cannot put all our energy into flushing Tong-san out. Marshal Zhang’s army, which is much bigger than mine, still poses a serious threat to us. We must continue to push forward into Manchurian territory and eliminate them once and for all while they are in a state of chaos.”

“Invading Manchuria is not part of our arrangement,” the general made it clear to him.

“The total absence of guarantees for my country’s interest in Manchuria by the tyrannical government of Marshal Zhang has forced me to come to this decision,” Colonel Namasaki declared.

“Interest?” General Tang asked; his curiosity was piqued. “What kind of interest?”

“Natural resources,” the colonel replied. “Manchuria has rich natural resources like coal, iron ore, and copper. These minerals will greatly assist our country to increase its industrial productivity and strength to achieve the ‘Greater Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere’ project in the shortest time possible.”

There was no immediate response from the general; he appeared to be deep in thought. A couple of pauses later, he cleared his throat. “I fully understand now why you’d agree to my invitation to come to Beijing without setting any conditions. You are planning to launch a two-thronged attack against Marshal Zhang: one from here and the other from the southwest. This way, the bulk of his troops in Jinzhou would be surrounded and trapped like rats. Brilliant strategy, I must say!”

“For someone who began as a bandit with little education, you’re quite familiar with military matters,” the colonel commented in admiration. “Yes, I know your background well. You have three wives and countless concubines but no children. You also have a younger brother whose distinguished career as a politician in Shanghai was cut short by an assassin’s bullet.”

“And you came to Shanghai in 1901 as a corporal,” General Tang shot back. “Over there you built your career out of aggression against the defunct Qing monarchy, which involved planning riots and engineering outbreaks of fighting. Soon you were promoted to captain. After a short spell in the secret service network of the Japanese Imperial Army, you were again promoted to your present rank and put in command of the army in southwest Manchuria. You’ve been recognised by your peers as a rising star of the military. Even your superiors speak highly of you. I did my homework too, you know.”

He was expecting applause or some good words from Colonel Namasaki and was a little disappointed when he received none. Instead, the Japanese man, whose smile had now vanished, said in a rather arrogant tone, “Since you already know much of my military history, I’ll come straight to the point: in order for me to annihilate Marshal Zhang and further boost my chance of becoming a full-fledged general, your absolute cooperation is required.”

“Of course. After what you’ve done for me, it’s only fair to return the favour. How can we help?”

The smile returned to Colonel Namasaki. But it was an ominous kind of smile this time. “No, General, not we, you alone are going to assist me,” he said, staring at his host with steely eyes. “I don’t trust your troops.”

The general looked quizzically back at Colonel Namasaki. “I don’t quite follow you,” he admitted.

“Five thousand soldiers went against you because they didn’t receive their wages for two months,” the colonel elaborated. “That’s right, General, I also know all about your financial mess. But that’s not my problem. My main concern is your remaining so-called loyal troops. You still haven’t paid many of them. Sooner or later, you’re going to have another mutiny on your hands. You, and especially I, cannot afford to have that while my army is at war with Marshal Zhang.”

“I can assure you my financial setback is only temporary. I’m planning to increase the taxes …”

“You very well know you can’t do that,” the colonel cut him short. “Your people are already being heavily taxed. Another round of increases will instigate them to revolt as well. Don’t expect me to help you out on this one – my job here is to kill enemy soldiers, not civilians. Which means you will end up burning at the stake. We wouldn’t want that to happen, would we?”

The general responded with both his eyes and mouth open wide.

“You’re fifty-five this year, aren’t you?” the Japanese continued, his tone and mannerisms now more like a boss lecturing his subordinate – he was finally showing his true colours. “It’s a perfect time to retire. Don’t worry about your position or the money: Beijing will still be entirely under your control and I shall provide you with financial assistance so that you can continue living in comfort like you always have. You need only to do one thing for me: command your troops to lay down their arms and go back to their civilian lives.”

“That is an outrageous request – you are asking me to surrender!” General Tang thundered, his face red with indignation. Never before had he been insulted by anyone, and he was not prepared to become a puppet of the Japanese, not even in exchange for a kingly life. “Stop dreaming, colonel. I will never do that!”

“I strongly advise you to think it over very carefully,” the unflustered Colonel Namasaki replied, his face wreathed in smiles as always. He then got up and bowed to the general, a sign that he did not want to talk any longer. “You have twenty-four hours to give me a reply. The lives of your troops depend on your right answer. ”

With that threatening remark, the colonel left the room.