Spy Hunter

By Robert Fisher

On October 19, 1942 President Franklin D Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066. This gave Secretary of State Henry L Stimson authority to relocate Japanese Americans away from important military installations along the West Coast into internment camps.

There existed great fear of spies lurking in this community just as there had been in Hawaii prior to the heinous attack on Pearl Harbor. The uncovering of these spies and their networks became matters of the highest priority for American security organizations. They were granted previously unheard of latitude in pursuit of this mission.

A twenty year old student of Oriental Studies was unceremoniously snatched from his college to aid this mission. His strident protests were waved aside under the guise of National Security. He was informed his knowledge of the Japanese language was the principal reason for commandeering his services.

That would prove to be only the initial rationale. His mission quickly morphed into a significantly more dangerous one.

He would become a spy hunter.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Nov 8, 2017
• ISBN: 9781546212911

Robert Fisher

Robert Fisher taught for over twenty years in schools in the UK, Africa and Hong Kong before becoming professor of Education at Brunel University. He has published over thirty books on education.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

On most days, in most months, in most years, the area would be thronged with fun loving, sun worshiping locals and tourists.

But not today!

There was no merriment present today – only tension.

A highly charged, omnipotent, tension.

A young man sat, unmoving, on the almost deserted beach. He stared as though hypnotized by the sight of the fluorescent crests of the waves as they danced their way towards him, and finally, with sighs of resignation, broke gently on the shore. The pose of his six feet one inch, lithe, strong body would have given an onlooker the false impression he was completely at ease. The hazel colored eyes in his handsome face were half closed in concentration and the small scar close to his right ear shone pink in the sunlight.

But this profound atmospheric tension ran through every sinew in his body as he awaited a signal. It was almost too good to be true. Most people on the island, particularly all military personnel, were crouched as close to their radio sets as possible, breathlessly waiting for the forecasted announcement. Their ears tingled in anticipation and their hearts beat furiously. Surely the leaked information that had spread like an uncontrolled wildfire was true. It had to be. Pray God it was true. All wanted to believe it was indeed true. But they had to hear it officially announced before being absolutely convinced.

It had been a long, long time - and for many a cruelly painful time.

At last, on this day, the population of Honolulu, along with the entire world, got the official news.

The war was over.

Japan had surrendered.

Due to the time difference it had been noon on the fifteenth of August 1945 when people in Japan heard the announcement. An announcement made over loud speakers along the streets.

The Emperor had recorded his message a few days earlier. As it happened, news of the surrender recording had somehow reached the Japanese military. It had so incensed many officers that close to one thousand stormed the palace on the night of the fourteenth in an attempt to destroy the recording. However, being unfamiliar with the inside of the palace they failed to find its hiding place. The following day this historic recording was smuggled out of the palace in a basket of laundry and clandestinely transported to a news station where it was played on a phonograph for all to hear. Parts of the recording were;

TO OUR GOOD AND LOYAL SUBJECTS.

After pondering deeply the general trends of the world and the actual conditions obtaining in Our Empire today. We have decided to effect a settlement of the present situation by resorting to an extraordinary measure.

To strive for the common prosperity and happiness of all nations as well as the security and well-being of Our subjects is the solemn obligation which has been handed down by Our Imperial Ancestors and which lies close to Our heart.

We are keenly aware of the inmost feelings of all of you, Our subjects. However, it is according to the dictate of time and fate that We have resolved to pave the way for a grand peace for all the generations to come by enduring the unendurable and suffering the insufferable.

Unite your total strength, to be devoted to the construction of the future. Cultivate the ways of rectitude, foster nobility of spirit, and work with resolution, so that you may enhance the innate glory of the Imperial State and keep pace with the progress of the world.

Many Japanese did not understand. It was the classical language of the Imperial Court which baffled them. Some believed it meant Japan had won the war and cheered lustily. Those cheers choked in their throats when it was explained Japan had lost and decided to surrender; although the word surrender was not mentioned in the Emperor’s message. There were cries of utter disbelief and moans of tortured agony. Quite a few military officers committed seppuku, or hara-kiri, by disemboweling themselves at the disgrace they felt. Some ordinary citizens committed suicide in other ways.

For the millions of Japanese who had perennially been promised a glorious victory, it was an unimaginable reality – and a terrifyingly one.

The opposite was the case in Hawaii and all of America.

On the beach in Honolulu the young man heard the roar erupting throughout the city and knew it was finally over. He breathed a deep sigh of relief, stood, wiped the sand from his pants and slowly walked back to the office. There would be beer, scotch and perhaps even champagne. The Federal Bureau of Investigation was not known for celebratory binges.

But this was a very special occasion; surely champagne was in order.

CHAPTER TWO

Jonathan Smith had been attending college taking Oriental Studies when war was declared following the attack on Pearl Harbor. His immediate reaction was to join the navy. However, he was convinced by members of the college staff to wait until after graduation, as he was about to enter his final year. It was argued the war was likely to last for quite some time. He would not miss the honor of serving his country. After a sleepless three days of serious internal debate, he reluctantly agreed with the advice he had been given. He would defer his enlistment in the navy. He would graduate then serve his country as an officer.

However this was not to be.

It was an unusually cold blustery day in late April when he was called out of class and told to go immediately to the president’s meeting room. As he raced across the quadrangle, he turned up his jacket collar in an attempt to gain a little protection from the blowing snow. Outside the meeting room he stopped and shook himself like a dog that had just come out of water. Once the snow had been removed from his clothing, he knocked on the door.

Come in, Smith.

He entered still attempting to puzzle out what transgression he could have committed to receive such an abrupt summons; and was astounded to notice the president was not there. Instead two men in dark blue suits, white shirts and dark ties sat at the table. They had steaming mugs of black coffee in front of them. A third mug was placed in front of a chair opposite them. Sugar, cream and a teaspoon were there should they be required, although the two men had obviously not deigned to use such adulterations.

Sit down, Jonathan, one said.

He was sturdily built with close cropped brown hair which had grey streaks at the side. His face was large with heavy jowls and the black bags under his dark eyes gave the impression he hadn’t slept in several days. Actually this was true. Nevertheless those dark eyes retained their penetrating stare. This was a man who missed nothing. The man next to him was younger, perhaps late twenties but he also had a haggard look. He had a notebook open in front of him. Next to it was an open briefcase. There could be no doubt he was the note taker and definitely not the one in charge.

I am Special Agent Chambers and this is Agent McGuire. We are from the Federal Bureau of Investigation, pronounced the elder of the two, in a gravelly voice.

Simultaneously they flipped open their identification badges in a well-practiced drill.

Help yourself to the coffee. It’s cold outside, said the leader, Chambers.

He waited until Jonathan had poured cream into his coffee; an action which caused Chambers to grimace before nodding to McGuire. At this signal, McGuire reached into his briefcase and pulled out several sheets of paper. He slid them over to Jonathan, opened at the last page.

Sign at the bottom of the page, instructed Chambers brusquely as he passed a pen.

What is this? demanded Jonathan without looking at the papers.

Although only twenty he was not a man to be easily pushed around. He had good reason to be pugnacious. In his younger years he had been in a few fights and had yet to lose one.

It’s your enrollment into our agency. Just sign it, kid. We don’t have time to waste.

"I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong man. I intend to stay right here until I graduate then I intend to fight, not sit at some FBI desk."

The last remark was hostile. It reflected his anger, confusion, and just a smidgeon of fear. He stood to leave, but it was only when he turned around he noticed a third man guarding the door. He had no idea where he came from; he hadn’t heard him enter the room. However one glance at this very large man with a forbidding look on his face told him he wasn’t about to be allowed to leave - at least not yet. Now that smidgeon of fear increased substantially.

Sit down, Jonathan, please, requested Chambers, in a more conciliatory tone.

There was more respect in his voice. He had carefully studied the file compiled on Jonathan; however, a review no matter how thorough, could not tell you everything. And he had just learned something new. This kid had spunk.

You have no authority to ask me to sign anything. I have the right to consult an attorney.

In normal times you are absolutely correct. But we are at war and the Agency now has special privileges. One of which is we can recruit anyone we need, if it’s in the cause of national security. Of course that person has the right to refuse. But he will then be classed as a conscientious objector. And you know where that will land you. Don’t you?

In jail, for the duration of the war.

"Correct. You can read the fine print later. Let me summarize it for you. You have special skills urgently required by the agency. We need you much more than the navy, and we need you now! A judge has reviewed our application and has approved it. By signing that document, you are swearing you will serve your country dutifully and uphold its laws. If you ever do anything to harm America I will throw your ass in jail. Is that clear enough for you?"

His authoritarian tone had returned with a splenetic overtone.

It’s clear, yes. But I still want a legal opinion, retorted Jonathan resolutely.

Chambers sighed. He had anticipated this reaction from the data collected on Jonathan. He wasn’t angry – just very, very, tired.

Do you trust the president of this college? he asked.

Yes. Unreservedly.

Chambers noted this immediate response — another two points in this young man’s favor. He had good judgment and loyalty.

Before requesting you to come here, I explained the situation to your president. I gave him the name and telephone number of the senior partner in a highly reputable law firm in Washington, and asked him to call for confirmation of all I’ve said. He will have done so by now. You can go next door and talk to him.

Jonathan returned in five minutes.

Satisfied? demanded Chambers.

"Regretfully, yes. Now maybe you will tell me what super capability I have which makes me so indispensable to the war effort."

Despite his tiredness, Chambers elected to ignore Jonathan’s sarcasm.

It’s pretty simple we need your ability to speak Japanese. You have been studying it for two years and are virtually fluent.

Jonathan was initially stunned before his brain kicked in.

That can’t possibly be the only reason. There must be a large number of people who speak Japanese including loyal Japanese Americans.

Agent Andy McGuire spoke for the first time.

We have studied you carefully. Unfortunately your parents have passed away therefore you are unattached. Having no family ties happens to favor our choosing you; but only in a minor way. The more important considerations are: you are very intelligent and extraordinarily quick on the uptake. You also have an independent streak in you. This you just demonstrated by your healthy cynicism of our right to second your services. Therefore, you are unlikely to be easily fooled or to be bullied. And, finally, you are young, strong and very fit.

This was Jonathan’s first encounter with the FBI. Although he had read of their capabilities, he was startled at the accuracy of their appraisal of him. He quickly recovered.

But surely there are others with similar qualities in the Japanese American community.

That’s our problem. Military Intelligence is certain Japan must have had spies in Hawaii and along the West Coast. Intelligence doesn’t know who to trust but they are smart enough to know a really good spy would be extremely difficult to uncover. He or she would appear to be loyal to America. Some of those spies are most likely still active. It is essential we find them as soon as possible as obviously they will still be sending information to Japan. That’s where we come in. Military Intelligence personnel are accustomed to interrogating military men. We are more skilled at interrogating seemingly ordinary citizens.

But I possess no skills as an interrogator, protested Jonathan.

The exhausted Chambers took a long drink of his coffee and McGuire took over once again.

"Let me explain our plan. You have no doubt read of the intention to construct internment camps for people of Japanese ancestry. This is moving rapidly on the mainland for those persons living along the West Coast. However in Hawaii, which is only a U.S. Territory, over one third of the population is Japanese American; therefore, this matter is being treated more cautiously. Injudicious sequestering of large numbers of those people could bring the island’s economy to a grinding halt. Yet this location is precisely the main concern of Military Intelligence. Hawaii is currently under martial law which it is hoped will greatly reduce the chances of espionage and sabotage. But there can be no doubt detention camps will soon be built there. The big question is who will be sent there and on what evidence. Suspects could have been born in Japan – Issei – or the offspring of Japanese immigrants – Nisei - or even the grandchildren – Sansei. Most likely any suspect will be detained along with his or her entire family.

The FBI has been appointed to undertake the interrogation of all to be sent to internment camps. Of course we will use some Hawaiians of Japanese descent as interpreters. People we believe we can rely on. But we desperately need people we can one hundred percent trust and who can speak Japanese."

Can we trust you, kid? asked Chambers softly.

That’s up to you to decide, but I don’t take kindly to being shanghaied.

Chambers smiled. He was right, this kid did have spunk. And without a second’s delay, Chambers spat out a question.

Why did you change your name?

He had deliberately abruptly changed the subject in an attempt to catch Jonathan off guard. But he was unsuccessful. Jonathan replied immediately in an unruffled manner.

I didn’t, my father did. My parents came to America in 1935 when I was twelve. In August 1939 my father, anticipating war in Europe, thought I might be taunted at school, so my name was legally changed from Johann Schmidt to Jonathan Smith.

Smart man, your father.

He couldn’t stomach all that was going on in Germany. And it didn’t take long before he loved the life of freedom which exists here.

And do you love America?

Of course I do, he retorted heatedly. "You are supposed to be a thorough organization. Your checking should have discovered that before ‘offering’ me this job."

Okay, okay, keep your shirt on. Look kid, this is all new to us. The attack on Pearl Harbor caught us with our pants down and we truly do need your skills. So bear with us.

Do I have to undergo special training, like firing a gun and hand-to-hand combat?

You bet you do. You will go through the usual indoctrination program, just like all other new recruits. And please, stop trying to be cute; we know you are proficient in Judo. But you will soon learn that real life situations of combat are not as simple as playing Judo on a mat. In real life you may have to kill someone before they kill you. That’s the type of skill you will learn. And your sidearm will be a revolver, not a gun!

That sent a shiver down Jonathan’s spine. This did not go unnoticed by the agent. He nodded with contentment. No young whippersnapper was going to get one up on him.

Presumably you will also teach me interrogation techniques?

Some, but you won’t need them initially, Chambers said cryptically. He wanted to see how this young man would respond.

The response was quicker and more penetrating than he anticipated.

Oh, I get it. You want me to be present when your interrogator is using a Japanese American as an interpreter. My job is to discover if he is accurately translating. If he distorts the translation when a suspect has given an incriminating answer, then both the interpreter and the suspect are probably spies.

McGuire’s face had a look of disbelief at the perspicacity of this young man. Chambers just managed to hide his astonishment and only nodded his agreement. Both men now knew they absolutely had the right man.

That’s the first part of your mission. The second is to follow up on anything further we get from a spy. A good Japanese spy will have a network; one which includes Caucasian members, who are most probably involved mainly for the money. For your information the job has been described in Washington as; - To extirpate all whose desires and/or actions are aimed at destroying America. But in my language it means hunt down the bastards. We need to arrest them all. Your job will be to track them down.

I see. Then may I make two suggestions?

Go ahead.

"Firstly, I should be introduced as a sort of trainee, or intern. My function being to take notes, assist the agents by running errands like getting coffee. In other word a harmless gofer: the fewer people who know my language capability and my true mission, the better.

Secondly, no one should be arrested immediately after a session I attend. Such arrests should occur some time later so that I will not be associated with the spy’s uncovering."

This time Chambers could not suppress his amazement. His head rocked back.

By God that’s a brilliant idea, he burst out.

It took McGuire several seconds to close his mouth.

I don’t suppose you wish me to change your name again? said Chambers with a sly smile.

Sure, why not give me an inconspicuous name, like Sherlock Holmes?

Both agents roared with laughter.

The tiredness which had enveloped Chambers was temporarily lifted. He felt he had succeeded beyond his wildest expectations. He had not only found a jewel but one with a sense of humor.

That was a rare trait in the 1942 Federal Bureau of Investigation.

CHAPTER THREE

Training began three days later in Los Angeles. It was grueling. It began each day at seven o’clock in the morning and often didn’t conclude until nine at night. It covered all aspects of law; the use of weapons on the firing range; hand to hand combat including the lethal use of a knife; the shadowing of suspects; setting up telephone intercepts; using disguises; and, of course, interrogation techniques. The training lasted three weeks.

His instructors gave a glowing report of his progress to Chambers. They were delighted and surprised at his stamina and the speed with which he picked up on everything. They apparently were not aware of his being accustomed to long hours. He had had to do so at college to earn his exceptionally high grades.

However, Chambers was not surprised at the report he received. It only confirmed the high regard he already had for his new recruit. His only concern was the one aspect of the mission it was impossible to teach. He had observed several physically and mentally strong recruits hesitate when confronted with a life threatening situation in the field. The thought of actually killing someone, even in self defense, caused this hesitation. It had been relatively easy to practice during training, but altogether very different in a real life situation. Sometimes this resulted in their unfortunate deaths.

Well we’ve got you as ready as we can. Do you feel up to the challenge?

I believe so; however, only actual experience will tell the tale.

Chambers nodded at the insightful reply.

We’re going to start you off at two camps on the mainland. Hopefully we won’t discover many spies. But the practice will stand you in good stead. Unless we do uncover a network, this practice will only take about six weeks. Then you’re off on the critical part of your mission, in Hawaii.

Where do I go first?

Manzanar, which is about 230 miles north of here. It is the first camp to be set up on the mainland. Have you heard of Executive Order 9066?

Yes the instructors told me about it. It was signed by the president on February 19th and creates an exclusion zone on the West Coast. There was great fear the Japanese would follow up their attack on Pearl Harbor by an attack on the West Coast. And supposedly, ‘Magic’ intercepts confirmed this. Magic being the name given to our code-breaking efforts. Order 9066 gives the military authority to forcibly relocate suspects out of this zone and into detention camps in the interior.

Chambers could only marvel at his recruit’s retention of detail.

One word of advice - you should be careful in your choice of language. Magic is still top secret and casting doubt on Magic intercepts by qualifying them as ‘supposedly’ will not be well received in certain quarters.

Sorry.

By the way who told you about Magic?

I can’t remember which instructor did. The three weeks passed in a kind of blur.

Chambers knew this was not so, but respected Jonathan’s unwillingness to snitch on an instructor. He did not press the issue. He would find out later and someone would receive a very serious reprimand. Magic was known to very few people. It had to have been given to Jonathan by a senior instructor. Chambers sighed with disappointment at that lack of security before speaking again.

You must never forget, Smith, that Japan’s sneak attack will have caused many senior officers in the military to unofficially, and silently, doubt the efficiency of the Intelligence Service - and probably their own leadership. Therefore, be careful to keep any criticism to yourself. Now – you never heard that from me. Understand?

I didn’t hear a thing. And thank you for not saying anything. I’ll be more vigilant in the future.

"You leave first thing tomorrow morning. You have earned the right to carry a badge and a revolver, Agent Smith. However, as I am following your suggestion to send you to Camp Manzanar as a trainee, I will hold your badge and weapon. People at the camp may be overly inquisitive and search your luggage. You must learn trust is a hard earned quality which is never given easily in our business. Here is an identity card to get you into the camp. You should report to Agent Blackstone. He will undoubtedly introduce you to the camp commander, Major Johnson."

Jonathan looked at his ID and broke into a broad smile. The name on the card was John Holmes.

I suppose you FBI types are so illiterate you can’t spell Sherlock?

Chambers shrugged and returned his smile.

Give me all personal items which could identify you. Things like college books or family photos.

Surely it would be suspicious if I didn’t have anything personal.

Do you think we are dumb as well as illiterate? Here are a few photos of your fictitious family. And this folder is a detailed description of your cover. Study it well today and give it back to me tonight.

Then Chambers’ face became more serious.

Obviously we have almost no experience with this new camp. Blackstone tells me most of the military stationed there are jumpy. He is kept at arms length by everyone, even the commander. In this type of situation, one which is new to everyone, it is understandable that trust will take some time to be built up. So watch your back and perhaps it would be well to curb your sense of humor until you fully scope out the lay of the land. I can vouch for Blackstone but as even he doesn’t know your true identity, be wary of what you say.

Surely he knows my mission? exclaimed Jonathan.

Of course he does. But no one else does. So be very careful what you say when others are around.

This is going to be much more involved that I had anticipated.

Well it was all your bright idea.

Next time I’ll remember to keep my big mouth shut.

Chambers smiled grimly.

You’ll do okay. Just remember all your training and keep using that brain of yours.

Next morning Jonathan left at six-thirty.

It’s better to leave early while it is not too hot, said the young private who was to be his driver in the old, dusty, badly dented jeep.

The road is not bad for the first four hours; then it gets pretty bumpy. I know a decent roadside diner about three hours out. I suggest we stop there for a bite to eat as there’s nothing worthwhile beyond that.

That’s okay with me.

As they drove along Jonathan was being rocked continuously as he sat in the font seat next to the driver. It was readily apparent the suspension could be greatly improved.

‘If this is what happens on the good road, God only knows what the bumpy one will be like,’ he wondered uneasily.

The young private started out telling Jonathan his life history. However he soon got the message by Jonathan’s desultory responses that conversation was not overly welcome. Jonathan was not intentionally rude; but his mind was focused on the challenge which was rapidly approaching.

They had driven for just over two hours and Jonathan’s rear end was aching. He was gritting his teeth and had his eyes shut. Suddenly the jeep swerved violently across the road narrowly missing an oncoming car. Jonathan had been unprepared and almost fell out of the jeep.

What the hell was that? he yelled.

Sorry Sir, it was a large rattlesnake.

Why not just run over the damn thing? You almost got us killed, he responded heatedly.

I did that once but the snake wasn’t killed. Unbeknown to me, it finished up in the underside of the jeep. And when I finally stopped it came out spitting. I almost was bitten. So I avoid them at all costs. You come across a lot of them, particularly closer to the camp. I hate snakes in general but rattlers can be deadly.

More deadly than plowing headlong into another car? demanded the still badly shaken Jonathan.

I am really sorry, Sir. It was a reflex action.

Is the jeep damaged?

I don’t think so. I’ll have a look.

It was only then he noticed the driver had a cushion on his seat.

Don’t you have a cushion for your passenger? he demanded accusatorily.

I didn’t think of it. You can have mine.

Oh forget it. I’ll get something out of my suitcase.

He rummaged around and brought out a thick woolen sweater. He noticed the driver had a puzzled look on his face. A heavy sweater was not appropriate for the California heat at this time of year. He had packed up all his clothing from college and, as he had no place to store his heavy clothing, everything was stuffed into two suitcases. He elected not to explain this to the driver.

It was not too long before they arrived at the diner. One glance at the greasy food stacked on the plates of several patrons, was sufficient for Jonathan to order the simplest item on the menu; bacon, eggs and toast. To his great surprise his breakfast was well cooked. Duly fortified they got back in the jeep. The driver had been correct, after an hour the road did become bumpy.

‘Thank heavens for my heavy sweater,’ he thought.

After what seemed like an eternity he got his first glimpse of the camp. And it shocked him. It was large and surrounded by a tall fence with rows of forbidding razor sharp wire on top. Spaced out around the fence were guard towers. Each one had a mounted machine gun and a large searchlight. Inside were hastily constructed wooden huts perched on the desert. Suddenly a strong gust of wind blew and the camp seemed to float in a huge cloud of dust.

They were stopped at the gate by two tough looking untidy soldiers. Their tunics were unbuttoned and one of them had his shirttail hanging out. They recognized the private and nodded to him. One of them, a Corporal Jones, stood next to Jonathan with his rifle leveled at him.

Your pass, he demanded sourly.

He studied it carefully for what seemed a long time; as though he was having trouble reading it.

And what’s your business here, Mr. Holmes? he finally demanded brusquely.

For a split second, Jonathan almost looked behind him to see whom the soldier was talking to. It was the first time someone had referred to him as Mr. Holmes.

‘My God, I almost blew it before getting started,’ he thought in horror.

I have been assigned here to work with, Agent Blackstone. I’m certain both he and Major Johnson are expecting me.

Just stay right there, commanded the soldier, his uncivil manner continuing.

Reinforcing his unfriendly attitude he pushed his rifle even closer to Jonathan then nodded to his subordinate, Private Jackson. The private’s quizzical look indicated he too wondered why on earth anyone could possibly wish