"Would you care for more coffee?"
" No, thank you."
Seven thousand miles away in a
lovely suburb of Tokyo, Masao
Matsumoto was having his
breakfast. Masao was a handsome
boy, eighteen years old, tall and
well-built with a sensitive face and
bright, intelligent eyes. He had
inherited his father's strength
and his mother's gentleness, and
it was combination that made
him special. Masao had been
graduated at the head of his
class in high school. He was a
natural leader, as his father had
been. He had been captain of the
high school baseball team and
was popular with his classmates.
Masao loved to dance and
occasionally, when he was not
busy with homework, he liked to
go to the Shinjuku discos.
The Matsumoto family was one of
the wealthiest and most powerful
families in the world, but Masao was
not impressed by that. He judged
people by their merits as individuals,
and he had many friends. Masao
had been brought up to believe that
decency and integrity were the
highest achievements in life, and he
hada strong sense of honor. His
heroes were the Samurai warriors
who had fought and sometimes died
for their ideals.
Masao was spending his vacation
working at the Matsumoto factory
in Tokyo. He had his father's talent
for electronics, and his own ideas
that he intended to put into practice
one day.
Now, as Masao was finishing his
breakfast, his uncle, Teruo Sato, and
his aunt, Sachiko, came into the
dining room.
Masao rose to his feet.
"Teruo-Ojisan. Sachiko-Obasan."
His aunt touched his arm and said.
"Masao-chan."
Masao liked his Aunt Sachiko; she
was his father's sister and while she
did not have attractive features, she
was a kind and considerate woman.
She was constantly fluttering
around like a tiny bird, fussing over
everyone, feeding them, entertaining
them. Like a hummingbird, Masao
thought. Always in motion.
Masao was less fond of her
husband. Teruo Sato was a tall,
thin man. He had coal black hair,
a thin body and face, a thin mouth
and, Masao thought, a thin soul.
There was a calculating coldness,
almost a cruelty, about his Uncle
Teruo that disturbed the boy.
Long ago, Masao had heard rumors
that Teruo had been determined to
marry Sachiko Matsumoto so that
he could get into the powerful
Matsumoto family. In time, Masao's
father had given his brother-in-law
an important position as the
financial head of the company, but
still, Teruo always seemed
dissatisfied. He was a brilliant man,
there was no doubt about that; but
it was a brilliance that Masao
distrusted. He felt that his father
took pride in the quality of what he
made, while his Uncle Teruo only
seemed to care about the profits.
"May I offer you some breakfast?"
Masao asked.
"No." There was a concerned look
on Teruo's face. "I am afraid we
bring you very bad news."
For an instant, Masao felt his heart
stop.
"What — what's happened?"
"It's your mother and father. They
were killed in an airplane crash last
night. I just heard."
Masao stared at him unbelievingly,
a feeling of unreality sweeping over
him, His parents could not be dead,
it was impossible! They were both
so alive! This was a nightmare and
at any moment he was going to
wake up.
Teruo said, "From what I
understand, they were killed
instantly. They could have felt no
pain."
But Masao felt pain. He felt all
the horror and agony that his
parents must have lived through
in the moments before they died.
"I — " He felt faint. He took a
deep breath to gain control of
himself. "Where — where did it
happen?"
"In the Appalachian Mountains,
in the eastern part of the United
States. Your father was on his way
to open a new factory." He put an
arm around his nephew. "You and
your Aunt Sachiko and I will leave
for America tomorrow morning.
We will bring your parents' ashes
back for a proper ceremonial
burial here."
Masao nodded, unable to speak.
Masao had no idea how long his
aunt and uncle stayed there talking
to him. They spoke words of love
and consolation, but to Masao they
were only sounds that washed over
him without meaning. His father
and mother were alive in his mind,
talking to him, loving him, making
plans with him for the future, just
as they had always done.
Do you know why our business is
growing so fast, Masao? Because
we are better than anyone else.
We care more. We are lucky to
have been born Japanese. In other
countries, the workers go on strike
all the time. They think only of
themselves. In Japan, we are all
family and what is good for one is
good for all.
Masao remembered when he was
twelve years old, he had run to his
father. Father, I have an idea that I
think is good.
Tell me, Masao.
You know how a small wind can to
make power?
Yes.
Well, if an automobile travels ninety
or a hundred kilometers an hour,
why could not that wind be used to
turn gears in the motor so that you
would need less gasoline?
His father had listened gravely.
That is a very interesting idea.
Then he had patiently explained to
Masao about the principles of the
ratio of power loss and the dynamics
of mechanical engineering. Masao's
idea was impractical, but his father
had made him feel as though he had
thought of something brilliant.
Kunio Hidaka, who was general
manager of all the Matsumoto
factories in the United States,
had been in Tokyo on a visit, and at
dinner that night, Masao's father
had proudly talked about his son's
idea. It had made Masao feel very
grown up.
Kunio Hidaka was a large, kindly man
who
The Chase
PROLOGUE
"Look out!"
The pilot knew they were going to die.
The large, twelve-passenger Silver
Arrow jet plane was being tossed
around in the sky like a toy by the
powerful winds over the Appalachian
Mountains in upstate New York.
The pilot and co-pilot were struggling
hard to keep the nose of the aircraft
up, fighting against the vicious
downdrafts. It was a superb plane,
carefully designed and well built. But
for the last few minutes, the engines
had started to fail.
One of the two passengers in the
luxuriously-appointed rear of the
plane cameforward into the cockpit
and said, "There is something wrong
with the fuel line. The engines are
not getting enough power."
Under ordinary circumstances, the
pilot would have ordered his
passenger to return to his seat.
But these were not ordinary
circumstances. The passenger had
designed and built this plane. He
was Mr. Yoneo Matsumoto,the
founder and chairman of the
board of one of the largest
conglomerates in the world.
The pilot said, "We're losing all our
power."
They understood what that meant.
Visibility was zero and all around them
were the deadly, invisible mountain
peaks, waiting for them. Without
sufficient power the plane could not
climb high enough to get out of danger.
The plane was beginning to lose
altitude. Yoneo Matsumoto studied the
instruments for a moment, then
turned and went back into the cabin to
his wife, Eiko. There was no fear on
her face, only an expression of peace
and acceptance, and he knew that she
was unafraid. He took her hand in
his and she smiled at him, her eyes
filled with love.
Yoneo Matsumoto was ready to
meet death. He had lived a full, rich
life and had accomplished more than
most men.Starting with nothing, he
had created Matsumoto Industries,
a company of which any man could
be proud. He had thousands of
employees working in a dozen
factories around the world, and he
was looked up to and respected.
His mind went back to the beginning,
when he was very young.
He had had a natural gift for
electronics. There had been many job
offers, but he had met and fallen in
love with Eiko, and she had
encouraged him to start his own
company. For the first five years he
had worked day and night, trying to
earn enough money to take care of
Eiko and the young son, Masao, who
was born to them. It was a difficult
path that Yoneo Matsumoto had
chosen, but he was ambitious and
talented, and nothing could stop
him. Slowly, his company began to
grow until it became a thriving
business. Matsumoto Industries
started to acquire other companies
and, gradually, the young business
became a giant — a dynasty that
straddled the globe, making
airplanes and computers,
cameras and radios, television sets
and a hundred other products...
His thoughts were interrupted by a
sudden crack of thunder, followed
by a flash of lightning that lit up
the sky like a giant rocket gone
berserk. For one instant, the people
in the airplane could see what was
outside.They were surrounded by
dangerous mountain peaks, and
then the lightning faded away and
everything was plunged into
darkness again. Yoneo Matsumoto
pressed his wife's hand harder. In a
few moments their lives would be
wiped out; but there was their
beloved son, Masao, to carry on.
Masao would inherit the Matsumoto
empire and he would run it well.
There was another quick flash of
lightning, and they looked out on
a scene from hell: Snow-capped
peaks and boiling black clouds and,
directly in front of them, the side
of a mountain that seemed to
be racing toward them. Seconds
later, the world seemed to explode
in a thousand pieces of flame.
Then there was a deep silence,
broken only by the howling of the
wind as it swept across the endless,
lonely landscape.
The pilot knew they were going to die.
The large, twelve-passenger Silver
Arrow jet plane was being tossed
around in the sky like a toy by the
powerful winds over the Appalachian
Mountains in upstate New York.
The pilot and co-pilot were struggling
hard to keep the nose of the aircraft
up, fighting against the vicious
downdrafts. It was a superb plane,
carefully designed and well built. But
for the last few minutes, the engines
had started to fail.
One of the two passengers in the
luxuriously-appointed rear of the
plane cameforward into the cockpit
and said, "There is something wrong
with the fuel line. The engines are
not getting enough power."
Under ordinary circumstances, the
pilot would have ordered his
passenger to return to his seat.
But these were not ordinary
circumstances. The passenger had
designed and built this plane. He
was Mr. Yoneo Matsumoto,the
founder and chairman of the
board of one of the largest
conglomerates in the world.
The pilot said, "We're losing all our
power."
They understood what that meant.
Visibility was zero and all around them
were the deadly, invisible mountain
peaks, waiting for them. Without
sufficient power the plane could not
climb high enough to get out of danger.
The plane was beginning to lose
altitude. Yoneo Matsumoto studied the
instruments for a moment, then
turned and went back into the cabin to
his wife, Eiko. There was no fear on
her face, only an expression of peace
and acceptance, and he knew that she
was unafraid. He took her hand in
his and she smiled at him, her eyes
filled with love.
Yoneo Matsumoto was ready to
meet death. He had lived a full, rich
life and had accomplished more than
most men.Starting with nothing, he
had created Matsumoto Industries,
a company of which any man could
be proud. He had thousands of
employees working in a dozen
factories around the world, and he
was looked up to and respected.
His mind went back to the beginning,
when he was very young.
He had had a natural gift for
electronics. There had been many job
offers, but he had met and fallen in
love with Eiko, and she had
encouraged him to start his own
company. For the first five years he
had worked day and night, trying to
earn enough money to take care of
Eiko and the young son, Masao, who
was born to them. It was a difficult
path that Yoneo Matsumoto had
chosen, but he was ambitious and
talented, and nothing could stop
him. Slowly, his company began to
grow until it became a thriving
business. Matsumoto Industries
started to acquire other companies
and, gradually, the young business
became a giant — a dynasty that
straddled the globe, making
airplanes and computers,
cameras and radios, television sets
and a hundred other products...
His thoughts were interrupted by a
sudden crack of thunder, followed
by a flash of lightning that lit up
the sky like a giant rocket gone
berserk. For one instant, the people
in the airplane could see what was
outside.They were surrounded by
dangerous mountain peaks, and
then the lightning faded away and
everything was plunged into
darkness again. Yoneo Matsumoto
pressed his wife's hand harder. In a
few moments their lives would be
wiped out; but there was their
beloved son, Masao, to carry on.
Masao would inherit the Matsumoto
empire and he would run it well.
There was another quick flash of
lightning, and they looked out on
a scene from hell: Snow-capped
peaks and boiling black clouds and,
directly in front of them, the side
of a mountain that seemed to
be racing toward them. Seconds
later, the world seemed to explode
in a thousand pieces of flame.
Then there was a deep silence,
broken only by the howling of the
wind as it swept across the endless,
lonely landscape.
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