The Kimura Kode

By Don L Clark

What happens when a DEA director and a famous oriental bodyguard who operates under the infamous Kimur Kode join forces to put a drug lord our of business in South America. Well, for one thing they fall in love but is love enough to cross the cultural divide?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Don L Clark
• Release date: Nov 7, 2010
• ISBN: 9781458071569

Don L Clark

Mr. Clark is a retired USAF colonel and college professor/administrator. During his USAF career he primarily worked in Intelligence and also served as a military attache in the USSR and on the Joint Staff where he provided military imput into strategic international negotiations such as SALT. MBFR, Laws of the Sea, etc. He has a third degree black belt in Juo and taught courses at Montana State University in International Affairs (how to get a date in Paris).For sseveral years he wrote weekly newspaper columns about international affairs entitled "Hither and Yon" and excerpts from it were occasionally exceprted on Voice of America.Mr. Clark's novels are all action/adventure types in several settings ranging from Texas rangers who team up with a Chinese female assassin back in the late 1800's (Yala) to what UN Peace making force might be like by the year 2030 (Sunday in Sudan.) All of his novels are intended for adults and all include some sexual implications as well as proffer what he thinks would be better ways for the USA to deal with the problems it is facing globally and internally today.His novel Yala was nominated for (but did not win) an international Frankfurt Award for e-booksBesides writing he currently engages as a CASA volunteer. His one foray as an author into non-fiction is "A Fix for America" in which he proffers moderate soultions for all of the major issues dividing this nation.

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THE KIMURA KODE

by

Don L. Clark

Published by Don L Clark at Smashwords.com

Copyright 2010 Don L Clark

PROLOGUE

THE GENERAL WANTS HER ALIVE!

Open your eyes slowly, Win, and then take just a peek to see where you are? Dam! Why does my head hurt so much? Oh, oh, this does not look good; there's nothing familiar here, and those men are soldiers—armed soldiers. That's right, Win, do it like the Sensei taught—treat it as just another challenge. Close your eyes now and pretend unconsciousness while you take stock.

The woman lay on a medical cot; her mind abuzz but her body motionless. She analyzed the situation using all her senses and ever so slowly conjured up a vision of her situation. She was in a small room, not a cell. There were two armed guards stationed at the front corners of the room, each about five to six feet from where she was secured. Yes, secured but not all that effectively, she also intuited. For although her wrists and ankles were both manacled by heavy chains, a concealed feel with her long fingers suggested the locks were quite pickable. After listening for a few moments to her guards’ movements and conversations in Spanish, Win concluded they were peasants and therefore probably poorly trained draftees. That knowledge caused just a hint of a smile to form on the pretty face of the Kimura.

Now how did I get into such a mess? She tried to remember. Where's Oscar? Did I let him down? She tried desperately to pull the recent past out of the fog that befuddled her brain, but it proved a difficult task. A nagging pain at the back of her head interfered with thought, and there was also a disturbing numbness in most of her muscles. Finally though, recent memories began to edge their way back into her consciousness. There'd been an accident, and sensing it she'd thrown herself across Oscar's body to protect him from injury. The last thing she could recall was the sound of screeching brakes, some curses, and then a crash. That was it. She could only hope that her master had not been injured. Patience, little one, patience, she repeated those words as a mantra. Isn't that the way father always said it.

I hear you've got the Dragon Lady in there, Lieutenant. Mind if I take a peek?

Sorry, Major Garcia, if it were up to me, of course, but the general's given strict orders that only the doctors can see her.

What's she look like? I've never seen a killing machine.

If that's what she is, she sure doesn't look the part. Other than pretty, she's a rather unimposing physical presence. Of course she was unconscious when they brought her in, and as far as I know still is. Frankly it seems like a waste of manpower to me. I mean eight men to guard an injured skirt and not even a very big one at that.

Well, for the price I'm told Mendoza paid for her, she must be pretty special. And as for the guards, that's because everyone figures he either has to rescue her or kill her. He can't leave her in the hands of the authorities.

The younger officer chuckled. Rescue her? C'mon, off a military base? Not even the great Oscar Mendoza could pull that off. I mean there are ten thousand soldiers stationed here."

"Any number of which could be in his debt. Don't underestimate Oscar Mendoza, my friend. He's clearly more powerful than our president—even our tin soldier commandante, although that arrogant dandy would never concede it. The scuttlebutt is that he's offered her up to the highest bidder."

Go on, now; not even he would dare to do that.

Really, than why was her capture not noted in the papers or on the TV news? I suspect it was to keep Mendoza from knowing where she is, and to grant some time to sort out the bids before she somehow miraculously escapes, and the general quietly pockets a fortune. Hell, I wish Mendoza would bribe me to set her free. Mark my words, someone's going to get rich off this, and you can bet us slobs risking their necks to hold on to her won't pocket a coin from it."

Well, no one will get her on my watch, the cocky and inexperienced young Colombian officer replied. I'm not afraid of some slant-eyed cunt.

If she's not dangerous why do you think they're keeping her drugged? Think about it, man, the logical thing right now would be for the Narco Squad to grill the hell out of her—pump out all that knowledge about Mendoza's cartel. But do you see that? No, you don't because no one really wants to shut the cartels down. The money they bring into this country greases the skids all over the place. The police, the military, judges, Dios; they're all corrupt. If Oscar asked me to let her go for a tidy sum, you can bet I would, and don't tell me you wouldn't as well.

The younger officer was preparing to offer another disdainful reply, but it was cut off in his throat by a crashing sound. Both the officers turned their eyes toward the noise only to witness the door to the prisoner's room suddenly explode off its hinges.

A dark clad and slender figure appeared in the space where the door had stood. She moved so quickly that the next few seconds became a mere blur to the four armed men in the room. The first two to convert from the startled to the unconscious were the two enlisted peasants who'd been standing rather listlessly on each side of the door before it flew off its hinges. They hit the ground choking before either of them could even manage to slip their infantry rifles, U.S. made, off their shoulders.

The lieutenant's mind suggested to his brain that he just might have seen the dark figure strike them with virtually simultaneous slashes across their Adam's apples, but it all took place so quickly he wasn't sure. He and the major experienced just a tad bit longer of confused consciousness. Surprised and panic stricken, they'd clumsily drawn their handguns and tried to get a bead on the black demon that now seemed to fly towards them. Indeed, later the major swore that she did actually fly before the stiletto-heels of her long black boots caught them both right smack dab in the middle of their respective faces: consciousness finito!

Now the door to the outside flew open as, responding to the noise, four rather poorly trained and very uptight sentries came charging inside with their rifles at the ready. The last two to enter went down without even seeing what hit them since the door had opened inwardly and the ninja-like avenger had hidden behind it as they'd all scrambled inside. Thus, the last to enter became the first to fall. The demon lady clubbed them mercilessly from behind. Her left and right arms performing in perfect syncopation as she whacked their heads with the two revolvers she'd taken off the already fallen officers.

Already feeling heightened tension at the sight of their two downed comrades lying near the missing door, the other on-rushing sentries grew tenser upon hearing the thud of their partners hitting the floor. They executed quick, if nervous, 180 degree turns, guns at the ready, but alas it was just in time to introduce their chins to those two deadly boot heels of the dark avenger. The woman seemed momentarily suspended at about six feet above the floor while she executed the devastating kicks.

This gravity defying female of rather normal height and build then deftly landed on her feet, a satisfied smile covering her face. It was obvious she’d enjoyed the fray. She stepped back to the door to the outside, slammed it shut and bolted it. Her eyes quickly took in the entire room and narrowed as they spied a window to her right. Following an instinct that told her it would most likely open out of view of whomever or whatever might next seek entrance to the building, she almost glided over to it

There, however, and out of character with all her previously graceful yet explosive moves, she wobbled a bit unsteadily. A wave of gray dizziness swept across her mind, and she had to pause for just a second or two and wait for it to pass. Her hand instinctively went to the knot on the back of her head and felt it gingerly, calculating that the swelling was going up rather than down.

Shaking off the pain and the wobbly legs, the escapee went back to work. She opened the window and lithely climbed up and onto its stoop in a crouched position. Then, instead of dropping easily to the ground only about five feet below her, she looked upward and visually confirmed that with a good leap of about five to six feet she could reach a drain pipe running along the edge of the roof and pull herself up there. In an instant she decided that such a commanding height combined with the darkness would likely give her the best chance to elude the on rush of people that was surely by now coming her way. For just a second or two she again wondered just precisely where the hell she was and how she'd gotten there.

Pushing that disturbing thought away in order to concentrate on the problem at hand, she made the jump easily and was just about to pull herself on up to the roof when that darkness in the back corner of her mind spread out again and took over her entire brain. Thus, instead of going up as programmed, she fell listlessly to the ground in a heap.

Less than a moment later, several soldiers arrived sucking for air and stood awkwardly around her lifeless body. They were all pretty much terrified at being the one who might have to check her over for signs of life. Finally, a swaggering officer approached and pushed his way through the nervous gathering. He prodded the fallen woman with his boot, and when there was no reaction inserted the toe of that same foot under her waist and flipped her over. There was so much tension in the gathering group of onlookers that most of them unconsciously edged backward in response to even that involuntary movement of hers. A flurry of differing murmurs emitted from the nervous crowd, but one word was repeated more than any other: Kimura.

The light of the half moon fell on the oriental woman's face and revealed to those in the front row that she was young, attractive and copper-skinned with long black hair tied back in a pony tail. Blood was trickling out of her nose. The major she'd whacked unconscious back in the clinic staggered up to her side. His head hurt and his broken nose bled profusely but he stood over her and cursed. Emboldened by her helplessness, he angrily kicked her in the side, and then with rage and shame both sweeping across his mind he picked up his revolver from her side and unsteadily pointed it at her chest.

But before he could squeeze off a bullet, a commanding voice rang out and ordered him to cease and desist, Don't shoot! The colonel who'd rolled her onto her back commanded. The general wants her alive.

PART ONE

WHAT'S A KIMURA?

CHAPTER ONE

THE CODE

Thanks for coming along on such short notice, Professor.

Jake Rivers spoke with the air of a confident man, and well he should. He was only thirty-two years old and already a deputy director in the Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) of the USA. Hope the shake, rattle, and roll of this old flying coffin doesn't get to you. We may be the richest drug enforcement agency in the world, but we still have to do the job with some pretty old stuff. How about some coffee?

The professor accepted the offer silently, with only a head shake and a facial expression, as men often do. Believe me, Jake; neither I nor my students are sorry I accepted your unexpected offer. It's nice to know you're among the few readers of my treatise, the Ph.D. in Cultural Anthropology joked.

"Well, I don't know how well your sales have gone, but I found the one chapter I read most fascinating. No offense meant by confessing that I've read only one chapter, mind you. You hooked me with it, and I expect to read the rest before too long. But as I told you on the phone, I need to know as much as I can about the Kimura Klan, and most especially Win Song Kyi Kimura. It's pretty obvious from your book that she made quite an impression on you."

Glad that came through in my writing. We authors hope to transmit feelings through words but aren't always sure we've succeeded. You do realize though that I never actually met her? I was only allowed to observe her from afar, and then I had that one brief experience in my quarters when I caught her staring in at me from a hallway. Her face haunted me for months after that. She was strikingly beautiful, yet somehow both solitary and forlorn. Frankly I was shocked when I read that Oscar Mendoza had employed her. What a terrible waste.

He might not agree with you. Our impression is that she's made him much less vulnerable to capture or assassination—both from within and outside his organization. I'm told she's killed at least three people who were genuine threats to him, and in the less than a year that she's been with him his whole operation has become more efficient.

It's too bad that you law enforcement types were not smart enough to purchase Win's services yourselves. A tiny fragment of the US defense budget could have employed the entire clan, you know. In my opinion that would be a far better investment than say an additional bomber or a few tanks. Certainly better than all those expensive toilet seats and wrenches I've read about.

That’s an interesting idea. I guess some would respond though that if bombers are obsolete, samurai ought to be as well. Nonetheless, as I told you, she's been captured by the Colombian military, and we have a chance to ransom her over to our control. I need two things from you. Your knowledge of the code she lives by so I can determine if we have a chance to learn about Oscar's operations from her, and use your past acquaintance with her father as an entrée.

And they want a million dollars for her?

Yep, a cool million, and that's a lot even if I am using confiscated drug money. What do you think? Any chance she'll cooperate with us?

Slim to none; the Kimura Code dutifully binds her total loyalty to her master.

No exceptions? I know I'm moving fast here but Mendoza is famous for either arranging the escape of his captured people or silencing them permanently if they know too much, and I fear she may be in that latter category.

The doctor’s forehead creased and his eyebrows furrowed in deeper contemplation. Finally, he said. There are possibilities. If you could convince her that her master has forsaken her for example. That is, that he made no effort to rescue her or perhaps even worse, that he was trying to dispose of her, then I believe she would have the option to seek employment elsewhere.

That's promising. Is there anything else you can tell me?

The flight time passed remarkably fast for the two men as Jake was drawn into Professor Foster Fasbender's rather weird world of unique cultural studies. Foster told Jake that Win Song Kyi Kimura was a remarkable athlete as well as exceptionally well read and educated person considering she's spent almost all her life in a remote section of Burma. She spoke several languages and, perhaps most shocking of all, she had also been either the victim of or apparently even a willing participant in incest with her Japanese father/sensei, the man who may well have even murdered Win's Burmese mother.

CHAPTER TWO

WIN SONG KYI KIMURA

Fifteen hours later, after sipping some hot Colombian coffee with Jake, General Antonio Reyes cut to the chase.

You understand, don't you, Señor Rivers, that I want the two million in cash, and that you must decide quickly. I'm not sure how much longer I can delay passing this devil-woman on to our civilian security people. After that you can bet they'll not let her out of their grasps. I think they like to torture pretty women. Furthermore, I've heard that Mendoza's offering five million for her death, and I know that at least two of my officers have been offered considerable sums of money to kill her as well. One such proposal came from a man who simply wanted five minutes alone with her. She killed his son when she tried to escape from us.

The general then cackled a not very pleasant laugh before he went on. I did him a favor when I turned down that offer. I tell you that woman's a killing machine. Ten men—TEN—BIG—STRONG SOLDIERS, yet I'm telling you she literally ravaged them. I have four broken jaws, three broken noses, and all but one of them was unconscious when we found them. She broke the necks of two of them, and the survivors all swore she could fly and was quick enough to avoid bullets.

Fasbender was smiling widely as he heard the reports of Win's martial successes.

Look at these little jewels. General Reyes rambled on, still a bit in awe of the woman he had accidentally captured. After her escape attempt, my men strip searched her more thoroughly than they had when she'd first arrived. These tools came out of various orifices in her body—not in her clothes, mind you, her body.

He pointed to eleven different tiny instruments laid out on his desk, and explained that each of the miniature tools had been extracted from her hair, rectum, vagina, and mouth, or from between her toes, etc. Each tool was made of fine stainless steel. There were tiny master keys, picks, and/or bladed instruments."

She used some of those to shed her manacles? Dave Dawson, Jake's man in Bogota interjected, a look of admiration in his eyes.

I have no idea precisely how she escaped, the general continued, but I expect some of these were used to make it possible. A doctor had checked on her about an hour earlier, and swore that at that time she was still unconscious from the drugs he'd given her earlier.

You've interviewed the soldiers she tangled with?

The general waved his hand suggesting he had and that it had been useless. Of course, but they sound like idiots. They're all trying to cover their asses by making her sound like a superwoman. I honestly think the two who were supposed to be standing guard over her, decided to have some fun with her, you know what I mean. I’m guessing they were concentrating on their manliness rather than the danger she posed to them. One was dead of a broken neck and the other's face was smashed. The scene suggests they were hovering over her when somehow she battered them.

But obviously your men finally overcame her. Did they have to shoot her? Fasbender asked the question with a worried expression on his face.

Shoot her? Hardly, like I said those who tried to do so swore she moved faster than their bullets. We found her unconscious on the ground. The doctor believes that the exertion of beating up the men, and/or her attempt to reach the roof, re-triggered the effects of the concussion she'd suffered during the auto accident and caused her to lose consciousness again.

Did the fall do more damage? I need to be able to communicate with her." This time it was Jake who questioned the officer.

"The doctor says she's stable but that the concussion could yet prove even fatal. After her escape attempt, I ordered her bound and under 24/7 armed observation. The guards are under strict orders to shoot to kill even it just looks like she's trying to shed her bonds. If you want her alive, I think you best get her out of here quickly.

When they entered her prison cell, Jake, Dave and Foster discovered just how much fear Win Song Kyi had engendered in her captors. For although she was now incarcerated in a regular jail cell with bars, four men were still stationed in there with the woman. Each of them armed with an automatic weapon, they stood at all four corners of the roughly six by eight foot cell.

The prisoner was strapped down in the middle of the cell on what looked like a crucifixion cross that had been secured to a solid cement pivot point at about a forty-five degree angle. Jake had never seen a person so tied up. Ropes of several assorted sizes covered almost every inch of her body. Her arms had been stretched out to her sides as in a crucifixion and were bound by ropes that ran from her wrists all the way up to her biceps. Her legs and torso were similarly tied from ankles to throat. There were even ropes securing her forehead to the vertical section of the cross.

The Americans were surprised to discover that she was totally unadorned except for those bindings, but her nakedness had not been immediately obvious simply because she was literally clothed in rope. Jake's eyes locked on the girl the minute he stepped into the cell. He noticed that her eyes were shut and that her quiet breathing suggested sleep. That appearance remained the same even after the clang and other noises engendered by the unlocking, opening and closing of the cell door.

A closer observation of her body, however, led Jake to a different conclusion. Although the ropes made it hard to see her tan skin, he noticed that in those few places where he could see them, her muscles were taut. He decided she was alert while attempting to appear unconscious or asleep.

We'd like to talk with her in private, Captain, Jake requested of the officer. Then he had to bargain with the man who claimed his orders were not to leave the cell until he was relieved. Finally, a hundred dollar bill changed hands, and the officer and his sentries left.

Jake and Foster approached the woman. Win Song Kyi Kimura, Do you remember me? I'm Dr. Foster Fasbender. I lived at your home for almost a month several years ago. Do you recall?

Two eyelids popped open and two very dark eyes locked on Fasbender's face. They softened with recognition, and then quickly darted around the room taking in the changed environment. I'm quite surprised to find you here, Dr. Fasbender. I read your book. Father did not like the part about us, but I thought you did rather well. She seemed almost casual, as if she were unaware of her plight. Jake liked her voice immediately. It was soft and serene, and she spoke lovely English, almost a cultured British brand.

I've been asked to come here and see you by my government, Win Song Kyi Kimura. I want to introduce you to Jake Rivers of the DEA. Mr. Rivers wishes to speak with you. I'm sorry that we meet under such discomfiting circumstances, but there it is.

"Well, at least we're closer to each other than we were allowed to be the last time. I'd