"Thank God you’re alive, man!" he said. “Knock on wood,” replied Johnnie. “You’re looking good old man,” Johnnie continued with good humor. “Who you calling old, you cocky bastard?” replied Win. “Let me get you a drink.” Win headed across the room to the bar. Johnnie dropped the envelope on the desk before following him. "Did you look in the envelope?" Win asked as he poured the drinks. "Not yet," Johnnie answered. He handed Johnnie his drink. "Cheers, my friend,” he said raising his glass in a toast. Johnnie nodded his head while raising his own glass. “Cheers,” he replied.

"The explosion!” Win exclaimed excitedly. “It was all over cable, the news!." He unconsciously stroked the back of his bald head, smoothing the few remaining slick black hairs, as he walked back to the huge tinted window opening to a stunning panorama of the city’s Upper East Side. He gazed out the window for a moment before turning toward Johnnie. “It reminded me so much of that day with your…father.” Johnnie’s intense gray eyes shot daggers into Win’s damp, slightly blood shot orbs. “I’m sorry, Johnnie,” he said softly. Johnnie Oh relaxed a bit. He held no animosity toward Win.

“Don’t be sorry,” Johnnie Oh replied. He gulped down his drink and turned away. Johnnie Oh was now facing the paneled wall adjacent to the window. The dark, rich Mahogany paneling was almost completely awash in the light of the midday sun. Like a big fat selfish Tabby, a thick gray cloud drifted in eventually settling in the path of the sunlight, effectively obscuring the details of the wall. As if on cue, a stiff breeze pushed the stubborn cloud away allowing a ray of sunlight to spill upon a portion of the wall that Johnnie Oh hadn’t noticed before.

Here, bathed in golden sunshine, a small but ornate gilded frame rested upon a small and equally ornate marble shelf that had been skillfully adjoined to the rich mahogany paneling. The frame contained a photograph. His eyes went wide as he recognized the black and white photograph of his mother. He held it in his hands and gazed upon her countenance longingly. Emotions, long held prisoner in the steel cage of his mind, began to stir. He beat them back but a single determined tear struggled mightily and finally succeeded at escaping from the corner of his damaged left eye.

“Banzai!” it screamed joyously as it fell to the carpet where it was quickly absorbed by the rich fibers. “Enough of that,” he thought to himself, half-proud, half-ashamed of the mental lockdown he’d imposed upon himself. He replaced the picture on the mantel and quickly - almost instantly - composed himself before he turned to Winn again. “I haven’t seen that picture in years,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. He focused his gaze on Winn. This time it was softer, less threatening. “Where’d you get that picture, Winn?” he asked with a silly grin on his face.

In light of Johnnie’s new mood, Winn felt it safe to tell him the truth. "It was in the safe. One of the few things that wasn’t destroyed by the blast,” he said. “I was saving it for you but we thought you were killed. Thank god you survived. There’s a bunch of bad guys out there waiting to be caught by the world famous Johnnie Oh!” Winn glanced briefly at the envelope on his desk. “I was gonna give this job to Mervyn,” he started, “Mervyn’s good, but now with you back, well, there’s nobody better for this job.”

Mervyn Friedman was the most atypical secret agent anyone could imagine. At six seven he was the tallest agent Johnnie Oh had ever known. At fifty-eight he was the oldest field agent Johnnie Oh had ever known. And with advanced degrees in criminal psychology and political science, he was the smartest agent Johnnie Oh had ever known. He was an introvert and a social retard and was typically shunned by the other agents, but there existed a mutual respect between him and Johnnie. “Have a seat Johnnie. Let’s catch up,” Winn said. Johnnie Oh shrugged and sat in the chair.

In one fluid motion Winn leaned forward, placed his elbows on the desk, formed a steeple with his hands and nestled his chin on the tips of his thumbs. He looked at Johnnie Oh who had settled into what appeared to be a comfortable position. "Despite his celebrity, our research indicates that Doctor Plume has become the greatest threat to mankind," Winn said. "That’s a matter of opinion," replied Johnnie Oh. "Isn’t the customer always right”? Winn watched silently as Johnnie flipped through the remaining photographs, news clippings and assorted scraps of paper. "You gonna take this job or what?”

"Like I have a choice," Johnnie Oh said. Winn Mills stood up and circled the desk hoping to signal that the meeting was coming to an end. “You don’t. But, there’s nothing we can do to make Mervyn accept the case. He’s within thirty days of retirement. Working with you may jeopardize his ability to enjoy it to the fullest." Johnnie Oh laughed. “What, you think I’d let Merv get hurt? Actually, our odds improve with him on my side.” Winn Mills pondered for a moment and replied, “That’s exactly what the president said. I’ll have Julie arrange a meeting.”

“Is mankind really that threatened because some guy invented the new Diet Coke?” Johnnie asked. "We are being well compensated to do a job - not to judge," Winn Mills explained. He was briefly overcome by a wave of nausea. He wasn’t sure if it was Johnnie’s question, the vodka splashing around his empty stomach, or both. Johnnie never questioned the moral aspects of any job. If Winn gave the green light then there had to be a good reason to execute the plan. Did the explosion that robbed Johnnie Oh of sight in one eye make him more introspective?

"You’re right as usual, Winn" Johnnie Oh said. Winn was satisfied for a moment. "But, what if he is just an entrepreneur?” Johnnie asked. Winn was beginning to tire of the roller coaster ride. “But, you know what? I refuse to try that Toro Rojo stuff because, despite what the scientists say, it all sounds too good to be true. And my mother used to say…” "So you’re in all the way?" Winn Mills asked. He was growing impatient. He needed an Alka-Seltzer and a dry salami sandwich on white. Johnnie noticed Winn’s discomfort. "All the way." Johnnie Oh replied.

They both got up to meet in the center of Winn’s office. Winn offered his hand, which Johnnie accepted. “You know,” Johnnie said, as he pumped Winn’s hand like an old fashioned water pump, “there’s no proof that he’s done anything illegal.” Winn grasped Johnnie by the shoulders and shook him gently. “Sometimes,” he said as earnestly as he could, “you have to step in and protect people who are unable or unwilling to protect themselves." He took a business card out of his pocket and handed it to Johnnie. “I was saving this in case you get cold feet.”

He noticed Johnnie’s left eyebrow arch a tiny bit. “Or if you ever have an improbable moment of doubt,” he added softening the insult. Johnnie Oh, a little perturbed, snatched the card from Winn. He studied it for a moment before putting it in his pocket. "Is this really his private number?" he asked. "Direct line," Winn Mills said as he handed him a sleek cell phone. "Advanced Supercell technology. Reliable and secure." "Anyone else?" Johnnie Oh asked. "Just you and the President," he replied. "I knew you’d prefer it that way." He checked his watch. Ten minutes ‘till lunch.

"I have a pretty good idea of what he’ll say if I ever call, although I doubt I ever will," Johnnie Oh said. "I'm never in the mood for his B.S.” Winn Mills starred at Johnnie in silence. Johnnie Oh was about to say something when Winn cut him off. "That’ll be enough, Johnnie," Winn finally said. "I’m finished," Johnnie Oh said. "And famished as well. I’m taking Julie to lunch. The new place. Care to join us?" Winn Mills shook his head no. Johnnie Oh was wearing him down. "I don’t mean to break your balls," Johnnie Oh said.

“I’m not playing robot on this one. I’ll follow orders, but I think I’ve earned the right to question them, “Johnnie said. "Perhaps," Winn replied." Just remember you’ll be working with a team of people who haven’t earned that right. Last thing we need is the lunatics running the asylum.” "Don’t worry," Johnnie said. "I’ll keep my bad attitude between just you and me." "Good idea," Winn said. Johnnie gathered his belongings and went out. “Be careful Johnnie," Winn called. “The last thing you want is to wake up dead.” Johnnie looked back and winked before pulling the door shut.

Johnnie and Julie engaged in small talk as they rode the elevator to the main level of the Mills Office Building. Julie was rambling on and on about one thing and then another as they walked briskly across the parking lot. Julie was fishing through her purse for the keys to her new Mustang. “I’ll drive,” Johnnie said. Although he wouldn’t dare admit it, he didn’t feel comfortable with Julie behind the wheel. She tended to multi-task while driving. “Awww man…,” she complained. Julie loved cars all her life. She was disappointed that she couldn’t show off her new toy.

Her dad was a car dealer and every year they’d attend the prestigious NY Auto Show. She first fell in love with the British MG Midget. She was only eight years old and it seemed the perfect size for her to drive. At sixteen her father bought her a used MGB that she drove relentlessly. It was a two-seater and her passenger was always someone that her father approved of. As much as she loved the MGB, her goal was to own a TR6. There was something about the huge tires and wheels that drew her to the rare import.

But then Triumph switched gears and introduced the TR7. She was not at all impressed with its triangular shape and inferior performance. The years went by she fell in and out of love with Detroit muscle cars, Datsun Z-class beauties, and vintage Mustangs - Shelby Cobras in particular. “Next time, I promise,” he lied. Julie’s childish pout changed into a look of astonishment when she noticed the low-slung sports coupe they were heading toward. Johnnie hit a button on the key fob and the gull wing doors silently spread open. Julie was totally beside herself. “Oh my God!” she screamed

“Is that your freakin’ race car?” she asked tugging his sleeve. “Company car, actually,” he replied. “Part of a new image I’m cultivating.” She caressed the metallic loins of the beautiful automobile. He opened the passenger door and she lowered herself in. “This is nice!” she squealed as the butter soft bucket seat conformed happily to her comely curves. Johnnie Oh slipped into the driver seat and buckled up. He started the powerful engine and put the automobile into gear, checked the mirrors and sped out of the parking lot onto the main road and headed out of the city.

Traffic was light, even across the bridge. He tapped the gas pedal and the super charged V8 responded like a thoroughbred accepting the whip. Julie, the back of her head pressed firmly against the headrest, was visibly impressed. “How many horses?” she shouted over the muffled growl of the engine. “500,” he replied. “Damn!” she yelled. “I gotz to get me one of these.” Johnnie worked the six speed manual transaxle like a racecar champion. He weaved through traffic, manipulated sharp corners, and before long came to a smooth halt in front of Nobonay, the city’s most exclusive sushi restaurant.

They entered the restaurant and were greeted by a distinguished looking man bearing an uncanny resemblance to Kofi Annan. “Johnnie Oh! Welcome my friend,” he greeted Johnnie warmly. “Good to see you Jon. It’s been a long time,” Johnnie Oh said as he shook the handsome man’s hand. “Jon,” he said, “I’d like to introduce you to my friend, Julie Pearl.” Julie extended her hand expecting a handshake. Instead, Jon-Son Buoy reeled her in and enveloped her in a very warm five-second hug. After the hug he held her, very gently, by the shoulders and looked straight into her eyes.

“You are like a daughter to me,” he told her. “Ask of me anything that a daughter would ask a father.” Julie smiled. “Will you pay for my wedding?” she replied. They all broke into laughter. “Come, come,” Jon-Son Buoy cried. He led them to a small private sushi bar away from the noise of the large lunch-time crowd. “I’ll be right back,” he said and disappeared. “He looks just like Kofi Annan,” Julie remarked. A pretty waitress arrived with two steaming bowls of Miso soup. “Hi Kuchi,” Johnnie Oh said. She smiled at him and bowed her head slightly.

“Baba?” Julie inquired. “Jon-Son’s daughter,” Johnnie Oh replied. Johnnie smiled as he nibbled on a piece of kimchee. “She’s very beautiful,” Julie said. “Yes, she is,” Johnnie agreed. “It’s amazing that she’s even alive. “ “What do you mean?” she asked. “Eat, and I will tell you what I know,” Johnnie Oh replied. Between spoonfuls of what Julie realized was the most delicious soup she’d ever tasted and the assortment of exotic appetizers, many of which she had never even heard of, Johnnie Oh was able to summarize the life story of Jon-Son Buoy and his deaf mute daughter Baba.

Jon-Son Buoy was a cook in the Air Force during the First Gulf War. Not just any cook, he was arguably the best damn cook in the Air Force. He was assigned to a base in Okinawa and while there he studied part time to become a master sushi chef. The officer’s club was his training ground. Master chef Kuchi Wanakobe was his mentor. Jon-Son Buoy was an excellent student. He was patient and dedicated. Kuchi appreciated these traits. This made it much easier for her to agree to train him. He became, over time, a very talented sushi chef.

He was creative and he wielded the knife quite well. His personality was a blend of quiet confidence and self-deprecating humor. He felt this combination suited him well for this line of work. He worked long hours at the “O” club when he wasn’t preparing meals for the base commander and hosting diplomatic events. When it was time for him to rotate, one of the Admirals pulled some strings and got him a primo gig at the Pentagon. It was around this time that Kuchi suggested they get married so she could be with him in America. Jon-Son Buoy agreed.

Johnnie Oh and Julie finished with their soup and the appetizers and as if on cue Baba returned. She placed before each of them a beautifully arranged seaweed salad with crisply broiled salmon skin drizzled with a wonderful teriyaki sauce and a sprinkling of bright red salmon roe and black sesame seeds. Julie remarked that it was almost too beautiful to eat.He agreed and guaranteed her that it was too delicious not to eat. She tried it and sounded the ‘mmmmm’ sound as her eyes rolled to the back of her head in ecstasy. “Were they in love?” she asked.

Johnnie Oh finished savoring his own mouthful and replied, “Well, I do know they were very fond of each other. And let’s just say she was also very tired of the oppressive conditions of her current environment. They were married for ten years. Just like anyone, they had their ups and downs. One day, Kuchi didn’t come home. Johnnie spent hours combing the city looking for her himself before finally reporting it to the authorities. A few days later the INS showed up at their house with a search warrant. They informed him that she’d been arrested on espionage charges.”

“What?!” Julie replied, shocked and amazed. “A mole.” he explained. “Planted fifteen years ago. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to come knocking.” “Omigod!” Julie exclaimed. “What happened to her? Is she in jail?” “She was, they said at the time, detained for questioning. No one was allowed to see her. The ACLU went nuts. After three months it was reported that she’d been deported.” “Deported to where?” Julie asked, a bit of anger in her voice. “Not sure,” he replied. “They claimed she was deported to a country in the Far East. They hinted Korea…her birth country…but it wasn’t confirmed.”

Three kimono-clad stewards arrived to clear the table. Ba-ba returned to re-fill their teacups. She smiled at Julie who smiled back. She left and Johnnie Oh picked up where he left off. “Jon-son Buoy smelled a rat,” Johnnie said. “He used his connections to procure the services of a private investigator who was rumored to know his way around government bureaucracy. Turns out it was all smoke and mirrors in an attempt to cover up her death. It was declared an accident. A young ensign, son of a prominent senator, had been drinking and showing off with his new sword.

Johnnie Oh sensed that Jon-Son Bouy would appear at any moment. He wondered why he’d gone this far with the story. He decided it best to wrap it up as succinctly as possible without going into too many more details. “To make a long story short, the kid got booted out of the Navy, the senator was censured, and Kuchi Wannakobe’s name was cleared. The body, however, was never discovered.” Johnnie Oh, out of the corner of his eye, noticed Jon son Buoy approaching. He was followed by a busboy pushing a cart upon which sat a silver domed platter.

Julie, on the verge of tears, was searching through her handbag for a Kleenex. “What did you do to her, Johnnie?” Jon-son asked alarmingly. Johnnie was about to lie but thought better of it. “In all honestly,” he replied, “I was just telling her about Kuchie.” Jon-son Buoy shot him a reproaching glance and then turned to Julie. She sniffled as she dabbed away the tears that were flowing steadily. Jon-son Buoy reached up and gently wiped away one of her tears. Her reaction was immediate. Soothing warmth spread from her face and then through the rest of her body.