"The serenity of a Zen garden is reflected in the balancing of the elements in an auspicious manner, allowing them to flow with the both heaven and shui in Chinese...a system of geomancy believed to use the laws of both heaven and earth to help one improve life by receiving positive qi. The Tao of heaven and earth," the Russian said to his partner when they first entered the green haven.
"We're in Japan, if you've forgotten." Napoleon quipped, as the two of them sat together on a small stone bench, most likely used by visitors for meditation.
"Feng shui is used around the world, and is not proprietary to the Chinese...and neither is Buddhism."
"All right, partner mine, I have to admit you lost me at geomancy."
"It is a divination from configurations seen in a handful of earth thrown on the ground, or by interpreting lines or textures on the ground." Illya gave a rather textbook explanation.
The American screwed up his face still looking a little bewildered. He knew better than to ask more questions as his Russian friend was notorious for his lectures, especially when it was a subject that interested him. He watched his partner's fascination as he stared out at the garden and had to admit, there was a definite sense of calm to the place.
It was tranquil bit of serenity in the middle of a hectic Japanese city, hidden away from the hustle, bustle and traffic of the busy streets. Their respite was brief, though, as the beautiful gardens were disturbed not long after they'd sought refuge there.
Twenty minutes later Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin were running through the delicate spirals that had been drawn in the sand, surrounding the carefully placed volcanic rocks, the trees and bits of green that seemed like tiny islands.
Their footprints despoiled the tranquility of the simple designs as the two agents ran for their lives, not caring that they created a path of destruction in this oasis, carefully tended by Buddhist monks, day in and day out.
Finding an alternate path was the furthest thing from their minds at the moment, as carried in Kuryakin's arms was a small statue of a Buddha carved in stone...a childlike image. It was heavier than it looked and he was struggling with the weight.
"A little help please?' He called. Together they took hold of the Buddha, running awkwardly with it between them as they tried to escape the Yakuza, who'd stolen it from the Buddhist temple of Myōō-in, one of the national treasures of Japan. The U.N.C.L.E. agents in turn, stole it from them and these thugs wanted it back...badly.
The Myōō-in temple, a five-storied red pagoda was designated a national treasure. It was the fifth oldest temple in Japan of the five-storied pagodas, and it housed within it, many valuables including this stone carving of an infant Buddha.
"Why would the Yakuza steal a stone statue, when there were so many other gold ones in the temple?" Napoleon muttered as they crossed a small footbridge, following the path through the gardens to the main gate, leading them out to the real world, the city streets of Fukuyama, in Hiroshima, Japan.
They paused briefly at the Torii before moving into the crowded street, looking quickly to get their bearings. They needed to get to the waterfront, where fellow agent Hideaki Matsushita awaited them with a boat to take them first to Kobe. There, they'd disembark and travel by land to Tokyo, and to UNCLE headquarters.
Once safe, the precious Buddha would be turned over to the Tokyo Museum acting as mediator for the government. The Yakuza would be the police departments problem to deal with or not once the statue was back in safe hands.
Shots were fired from behind them, sending the innocent passersby into a mass panic, scrambling for cover as the Yakuza ran after the escaping Gaijin_ white men.
As Illya turned, looking back at their pursuers, he ploughed into a man, knocking him over. Even though he and Napoleon were in the middle of being chased, he stopped to help him up, offering a hand and bowing to him apologetically, speaking in Japanese.
"Shitsureishimasu. Watashi no futegiwa o yurushitekudasai_I beg your pardon. Please forgive my clumsiness."
"Come on!" Napoleon yelled, "No time for pleasantries.
"Kono hōhōde wa_this way," the man offered, seeing their predicament. He directed them inside his establishment, opening a trap door in the floor.
The shop was filled with all sorts of statuary and antiques and there Illya spotted a near perfect replica of the statue they'd rescued.
"Watashi wa arimasu_may I?" He pointed to the Buddha.
"Hai, if it will help you with your troubles with the gokudō." That was what the locals called the Yakuza.
The man was obviously familiar with the ancient organized crime syndicates of Japan. The police, and media called them bōryokudan literally 'violence group', while the Yakuza called themselves ninkyō dantai_ chivalrous organizations. Yet in spite of their idealistic view of themselves, they were notorious for their strict codes of conduct, their violent organized nature, and were feared by many.
"These are members of the the Yamaguchi-gumi, the biggest Yakuza family. From its headquarters in Kobe, they direct criminal activities throughout Japan. Their name has become synonymous with Japanese organized crime in many parts of Asia outside of Japan."
.
Illya passed the real statue to his partner. "Both of you get into the basement, I will surrender the look-alike, and hopefully it will fool them."
Napoleon cradling the real Buddha in his arms, reluctantly stepped down the stairs with the shopkeeper, closing the trap door behind them. Illya quickly kicked an Oriental rug in place hiding the opening from view.
Minutes later, the Yamaguchi-gumi came crashing into the shop, grabbing the statue from Illya's hands. He raised them up in surrender saying to them..."Anata ga hoshī mono o motte iru. Ima iku_you have what you want. Now go."
"Dakara anata no yūjin ga anata no unmei ni anata o hōki shita. Kumicho Taoka wa anata no nusumi no tame ni anata o bassuru koto ni yorokobi o kanjirudeshou_So your friend abandoned you to your fate. Kumicho Taoka will take pleasure in punishing you for your thievery."
One of them pistol whipped him, and another pair dragged him out the door to a waiting car.
By the time Napoleon was able to get out of the basement, the Yakuza and Illya were gone.
"You said their headquarters was in Kobe, correct?" He asked the shopkeeper.
"Hai. It is where the head of their family, Kumicho Taoka is. I am sorry to say this but I think your friend will not live long enough for you to find him."
"We'll see about that,"Napoleon winked at him. He pulled his communicator. "Channel F- Matushita."
"Napoleon where are the two of you?"
"Not far, Illya's been taken by the Yakuza. They're heading to see the head of their family in Kobe. You have any idea where it is?"
"I know exactly where it is. Did they get the statue?"
"No, we switched it for a fake. I still have the real one."
"Get here as quick as you can Napoleon, we've got 89 nm to cover. When did they take him?"
"Fifteen minutes ago."
"Then we have a good chance of beating them there if they go by land, get here as fast as you can."
As Napoleon and Matsushita cast off the mooring lines of the sampan, modified by U.N.C.L.E. research and development to motor at high speeds, they spotted a wooden hulled 'Hacker-Craft' sport boat move quickly past them with Yakuza and Illya seated on a bench in the stern.
It was a race against time for the agents, heading after the speedboat to Kobe before the Yakuza could do anything to Illya. Once they found out the statue was a fake, they would surely be none too gentle with the Russian in trying to find out where the real Buddha was.
They were notorious for mutilating and torturing their victims before finally showing mercy and killing them. If need be, Napoleon would give them the real statue in trade for Illya, then figure out a plan to get it back from them.
Antiquity or not, the statue was not more valuable than his partner's life.
Solo and Matsushita arrived not long after the Yakuza boat, tying off their sampan, and making their way on foot to the Yamaguchi-gumi family compound. Not surprisingly, it was surrounded by high walls, with the tops of trees could be seen towering above them from the inside.
A car approached, and was stopped at the gate, giving Napoleon a brief glimpse of a blond head in the back seat.
The iron gate was secured after the vehicle passed through. "At least we know he's still alive," the American whispered.
"Yes, my friend, but for how long?"
"You really didn't need to remind me of that did you, Hideaki?"
"Sorry boss, but it's true."
Solo ignored him as he scanned the walls for a blind spot and quickly finding one he pointed it out to Hideaki. They'd brought with them some rope and a grappling hook, and as soon as the sun went down, they used it to scale the wall, and climb down a tall tree on the inside, landing silently on the soft grass.
They skirted along the walls, making their way to the main building; Napoleon's instincts telling him to head the the one brightly lit room. Inside there were several men sitting on cushions around a low table apparently playing cards, each of them stripped to the waist, displaying ornate, irezumi tattoos.
When playing Oicho-Kabu_ a form of blackjack with each other, the Yakuza often removed their shirts or opened them up, draping them around their waists, allowing them to display their full-body tattoos to each other.
It was one of the few times that Yakuza members would display their tattoos to others, as they normally kept them concealed in public with long-sleeved, high-necked shirts. It was like a peacock displaying it's feathers, or in this case, perhaps to intimidate their opponents in the card game.
The agents quickly placed explosive putty along the walls of the house, and once completed, they spied again through the window as Illya was dragged in, and forced to his knees in front of the tattooed men. At least he was looking none the worse for wear; that was unusual for the Russian.
"This is one of the Gaijin who stole the Buddha, Master. I apologize, but the other one got away. We did retrieve the statue," one of the men spoke nervously.
Kumicho Taoka stood slowly, dismissing his card playing partners before he spoke. "This is little Gaijin runt outwitted you? You are lucky that you did get the statue back, otherwise the consequences would be severe. Now place your left hand on the table..."
The man shook as he raised his arm, kneeling and putting his hand on the delicately carved cherrywood table, spreading his fingers, knowing what he must now do. He deserved punishment for losing the statue in the first place as well as for not capturing the other thief and was now forced to perform the ritual of Yubitsume, or the cutting of one's finger, as a form of penance or apology.
Upon a first offence, the transgressor had to cut off the tip of his left little finger and give the severed portion to his boss. With each offence another finger would be sacrifice.
The origin of Yubitsume, stemmed from the traditional way of holding a Japanese sword. The bottom three fingers of each hand used to grip the sword tightly, with the thumb and index fingers slightly loose. The removal of digits starting with the little finger moving up the hand to the index finger progressively weakened a person's sword grip. It was believed a person with a weak sword grip then had to rely more on the group for protection and thereby reducing individual action.
Kumicho Taoka handed his man a short samurai style blade, watching as the ritual was performed without a sound. To cry out would show another sign of weakness, requiring the man to lose another finger tip.
The bloody offering was placed in a white embroidered cloth and put on the table in front of Taoka. His man was lead away to see to his wound.
The bosses' attention was now given over to the Russian.
"So Gaijin, what am I to do with you?"
"I was hoping you would just let me go, since I did give the statue back to your men." Illya answered boldly.
That elicited a hearty belly laugh from Taoka.
"You think I would let you off that easy? No, little man, an easy end is not in store for you. Perhaps you would like to know the reason I wanted the little Buddha before I kill you?"
"Yes, it did occur as odd to me that you would want a stone carving, instead of taking the gold statues from Myōō-in."
"Ah you see, this statue is not of Japanese origin, it is originally from China. It belonged to the legendary Ma He who was a eunuch in the service of the Yongle Emperor. He was awarded the honorific name "Zheng He," for his loyalty and was put in charge of gathering treasure from as far away as Egypt, as tribute to the Emperor. There was a legend that Zheng He had en massed a secret treasure of his own, but he never lived to enjoy it as he died en route back to China from another of his treasure seeking expeditions for his Emperor."
He lifted the Buddha from the table. "After many years of research, I discovered this statue belonged to Zheng He, and was indeed part of his treasure. Behold!"
Taoka raised the statue above his head, sending it down to the floor, smashing it to bits. When he saw only broken stone, he cried out in anguish. That was not what he expected to see.
He roared, grabbing a Shinogi-Zukuri katana, a single-edged, curved long sword traditionally worn by samurai, and charged at Illya. He grabbed a handful of blond hair, violently yanking the Russians head back, exposing his throat, and placing the razor sharp blade against it.
"Where is the real statue, Anata no shiroi yatsu_you white bastard."
"Most likely winging it's way to your government. What was it you thought you would see when you smashed the statue?" Illya asked fearlessly, with the sword poised to cut his throat.
"You are surprisingly brave in the face of death for a Gaijin," the Kumicho said, not releasing his grip on the Russian.
Illya challenged him in Japanese. "Watashi wa, ikutsu ka no hōhō hanarete yoku seppukudesu. Meiyo aru teki o jisatsu sa seru_I am well aware of the ways of Seppuku. Letting an honored enemy commit suicide." He hedged, hoping to get his hand on a katana blade, that might just give him a chance.
"So you are wise to our ways.
"Yes I understand the 'way of the warrior,' as I am one myself. Bushido moral code, stresses frugality, loyalty, martial arts mastery, and honor unto death. It is a philosophy that I embrace. It is an unwritten code, unspoken as the moral principles by which the samurai were required to observe...one name only be uttered, that of ...Yamamoto Tsunetomo, " Illya got the reaction he'd hoped for as Taokas eyes widened, and to add the cherry to the top of the sundae, the Russian quoted from the Hagakure, in Japanese.
"Chie mo gijutsu wa izure mo, kono Chū de basho o motte imasu. Honmono no otoko ga shōhai o kangaeru koto wa arimasen...neither wisdom nor technique has a place in this. A real man does not think of victory or defeat. He plunges recklessly towards an irrational death. By doing this, you will awaken from your dreams." He switched back to English. "This came of a thousand years of training in the law of honor, obedience, duty, and self-sacrifice,"
Kumicho Taoka released his grip on Illyas hair, taking a step back as he looked at the sword in his hands.
" We Yakuza have our own codes, of honor and chivlary and the ways of the samurai are among them." He paused again, looking down at the sword. "I will answer your the statue before you die. The Buddha should have been filled with a myriad of gems...diamonds, rubies, jade and pearls of great price...Zheng He's lost treasure."
Illya raised his eyebrows in surprise, wondering how those gems might have been put into to what looked like an intact stone carving, but the Chinese were known for many unsolved mysteries.
"Hai, I will do this as you have shown bold courage and honor. You seem to understand well the ways of Bushido, and do it in my own language very well...".
"For a Gaijin," Illya finished the sentence.
"Yes for a Gaijin," the Kumicho smiled. "What is your name, so that you may be remembered as an honored enemy."
"Watashinonamaeha Illya Kuryakindesu."
"Now release him." Taoka ordered his men. "Anata wa meiyo aru shi Illya Kuryakin o motsu koto ni nari_you will have an honorable death, Illya Kuryakin."
The handcuffs were removed, and Illya rubbed his wrists trying to quickly bring back the circulation.
Taoka took a silk cloth, wrapping it around the blade until just a short section towards the tip was visible.
The cloth-covered sword would be held by the person committing Harakiri, so their hands, oddly enough, would not be cut by the razor sharp blade while they were disemboweling themselves as their final act of suicide.
The guards cocked their guns, aiming them at the Russian as Kumicho Taoka bowed solemnly, offering the sword to him.
Illya accepted, and in one quick motion, turned it around, driving it at the Kumicho. Shots were fired, and Kuryakin froze in place, surprised that he felt no pain.
The two guards fell to the floor, and Taoka turned, fleeing from the room.
Napoleon and Matsushita charged into the room."Hey, cavalry's arrived," Solo called out.
"About time. I thought I would have to escape all by myself." Illya turned, following them out the window, as klaxons began to blare. They ducked into a stand of trees as black clad ninja-like guards rushed past them.
"Yeah, and how was that escaping thing going?" Napoleon jabbed.
"Admittedly, not too well." Illya whispered.
"Ready for the sideshow?" Napoleon smiled, as he pulled the stem on his wristwatch. One by one the compounds they'd planted went off in a cascade of spectacular explosions, destroying the simply designed Japanese style wooden house.
In the ensuing chaos, the three agents managed to get to a tree, climb it, cross over the wall, and make a clean getaway to their boat .
.
The next day Japanese television broadcast the news of a spectacular explosion and fire in Kobe, though no mention of it being the Yamaguchi-gumi family compound was made.
The statue was turned over at U.N.C.L.E. headquarters to the director of Antiquities from the Tokyo National Museum, and Illya advised them of the story of the lost treasure of Zheng He that Kumicho Taoka had told him.
An hour later they received a phone call from the museum telling them there was nothing hidden inside the statue as it had been x-rayed. What made it valuable, they said, was that it was rare to find such a piece not carved of wood, the more popular medium in ancient Japan. That was the major significance to the little Buddha and nothing more. It was not of Chinese origin...
"So we risked our lives for a piece of rock," Napoleon said to his partner as they left headquarters.
"It is not just a piece of rock, but an historical work of art. It has value to the history of this country and the Myōō-in temple where it belongs for all to see."
"Just glad this affair is over and we got through it without a scratch this time, partner mine."
"As am I. Come, we deserve a reward. I will take you to a Geisha house I know here in Tokyo, as long as you promise to behave." Illya flashed his crooked smile.
"Moi, not behave? Surely you jest mon ami, n'est-ce pas?"
Illya's lips pursed, not even bothering to comment about Napoleon's atrocious French accent, as that had just become a lost cause.
"I will not take you then if you insist upon playing the innocent with me. Remember the last time you followed me to a Geisha house...you nearly got the both of us arrested."
"Yes, I remember," Napoleon droned as his partner gave him the stink-eye.
"Okay, okay. I promise. Scouts honor," Napoleon grinned as they walked down the street to the promise of an evening of tea, feminine entertainment, relaxation...and maybe a little saki.
