His men all responded in the affirmative, but the concern persisted on their faces. While he would deeply enjoy crushing the United States for what it had done to Japan, it was admittedly impractical. In the end, the pleasure of slowly bleeding it of its power and influence—watching its arrogant population face the reality that their every action was subject to approval from Tokyo—would be so much more satisfying.

“As you well know, I understand and appreciate the importance of America to Japanese interests,” he continued, making an effort to moderate his tone. “I’ve created a slowly escalating battle plan against them that should prove a sufficient deterrent without the use of Ito’s weapon.”

“And does that plan involve an attack on their mainland? Against their civilian population?”

Again Takahashi stiffened. He had responded to Minami’s concerns but now the man was courting insubordination. “We’ll destroy America’s naval capability in the Pacific. If they don’t immediately disengage, yes, we’ll move against their homeland. The American people are weak and unable to endure even the mildest discomfort. We’ve identified a series of fourteen individual power stations that are protected by nothing more than chain-link fences. If destroyed, virtually the entire country will go dark for a minimum of three weeks. After only a few hours of that, the country’s citizens will be demanding that their politicians agree to an unconditional surrender.”

“And if they’re stronger than you give them credit for?” Minami pressed.

“Then America will cease to exist!” Takahashi shouted. “We will release Ito’s weapon there and watch it rot! Is that understood?”

Minami looked down at the floor, unwilling to meet his superior officer’s glare. “Of course, General. I understand completely.”

Takahashi looked around the room and, finding no further dissent, gave a short bow before leaving. There was no more to say. He’d chosen his men well. Even Minami would die before he failed to carry out his duty to Japan.

The general hesitated at a T in the corridor. He had matters in Tokyo that demanded his attention, but instead of turning left toward the exit, he turned right. The grade steepened, sinking farther into the earth as he traveled its considerable length.

The door at the end didn’t automatically slide open at his approach like the other. He had to put his hand against a glass plate and punch his personal code into a keypad.

Inside, the walls were painted stark white with the exception of the one at the back, which was floor-to-ceiling glass. Through it, Takahashi could see what appeared to be sixteen normal thermoses, each containing millions of Ito’s nanoscale weapon. In the next few days the scientist would fill another ninety-six. One for every target in China.