Jake’s emotions were mixed. Rank and recognition were things he’d always dreamed of, but they had come during an enormous and humiliating American defeat, and he was expected to be an assassin if it became necessary.
Collins laughed. “Like I said, we leave tonight. Get your things in order and be back here at ten.”
“I’m a bachelor and I’m totally dedicated to the army. There’s little to put in order.”
“Then go say good-bye to the widder woman you’ve been seeing and you think I don’t know about.”
“Bastard,” Jake said with a grin as he left Collins.
He didn’t want to leave Alexa alone in Honolulu, but at least he’d be free and not in a prison camp. In that case, perhaps he could help her out while attending to the rest of his plans. He would also ask a favor of Toyoza Kaga. Jake had no idea which way Kaga would leap when the Japs took over, but asking him to maintain a discreet observation of Alexa and Melissa was nonpolitical and couldn’t hurt.
Alexa tried not to cry. With Tim gone, Jake had become her friend and her anchor. That and the fact that she was genuinely fond of him made the thought of his leaving all the more upsetting.
Damn the military and its secrets, she raged inwardly. All Jake had been able to tell her was that he was departing for someplace that night. But if he had been going stateside, she realized, there would have been no need for secrecy. He hadn’t said he was going to the mainland, which meant he would still be someplace on or near the islands. Interesting.
On the plus side, Jake had brought some more supplies and a bottle of white wine, which she, Melissa, and Jake had finished. They’d had to drink it warm, but it still tasted good.
Melissa said she heard the baby crying and left the two of them sitting on the couch. Jake’s large hand was enfolded by Alexa’s two.
“The last time you left me,” she said, “I told you to be careful. I should have waited until this.”
“It worked once, say it again.”
She smiled and kneaded his hand. “Be careful. Now, what words of wisdom do you have for me?”
Jake took a deep breath. Life was already awful on Oahu, and it was going to get much worse. He had arrived during the day and been faintly surprised at the lack of Japanese air activity. The ruined buildings, charred vehicles, and cratered fields he took as a matter of course. The Japanese were all focused on the area around Schofield and the dissolving defense line north of the Honolulu perimeter. The result was that Honolulu enjoyed a temporary reprieve, although the rumblings of bombs and shells echoed in the distance while clearly visible fingers of smoke reached skyward.
“Last time I told you to survive. Just do that, Alexa-survive. Do whatever you have to do, pay any price, just survive. Cheat, lie, steal, anything; it doesn’t matter what you have to do as long as you survive. Stay alive and I can look for you. If you don’t, I can’t.”
She squeezed his hand harder. “When will the army surrender?”
“A few days, maybe a week. In the meantime, you and Melissa get into the city and stay in the crowds. You don’t want to be two women alone out here when the Jap army comes through.”
“But will it be that much safer in Honolulu?”
“Who knows? But it can’t be worse than here. Maybe after the surrender you can come back, but not until then. Stay with crowds. There’s always safety in numbers. Dress ugly and don’t wear makeup or wash your hair. Tell Melissa to dye her hair back to its normal color, whatever that was. Don’t do anything to draw attention to yourself or make yourself attractive. If that fails, then there’s nothing left but to endure what you must and do what you can to survive.”
Survive, Alexa thought. Survive was today’s vocabulary word. Jake had said he’d look for her, and that gave her some hope. “When should we leave?”
“The sooner the better. Pack now and be ready to move at a moment’s notice.” He checked his watch. “I’ve gotta go.”
Light was fading as they walked to the motorcycle. I’m going to be more alone than I have ever been in my life, Alexa thought. Melissa was a good friend, but she had her own priorities, a son and a departed husband.
Alexa put her hand on Jake’s arm and felt the strength of his muscles. “Jake, I will do everything I must to get through this, and I want you to survive as well.” She then put both her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips. “And then I want you to find me, understand? Please find me.”
Jake was shocked speechless. She was just about as tall as he, and he was almost as frightened by the intensity in her eyes as he was delighted by the feel of her body against his.
“I understand,” he finally managed to gasp. Now all he had to do was figure out a way to get back from the big island of Hawaii to Oahu with only the Jap army and navy in the way.
Admiral Yamamoto pounded his desk in frustration. His plans were falling apart. Where were the Americans? Why hadn’t they sent a fleet to relieve Oahu? How could the Japanese navy fight the climactic and decisive battle that would knock the Americans out of the war if the Americans didn’t cooperate?
Since when, he reminded himself wryly, did the enemy cooperate during a war? It was a lesson that was continually learned and re-learned by admirals and generals everywhere.
Commander Yasuji Watanabe nodded tolerantly. He was as close to a friend as Yamamoto permitted himself while on duty, and only he was privileged to see such rare displays of uncontrolled temper. Technically, Watanabe was Yamamoto’s aide, responsible for coordinating logistics, but Yamamoto used him as a sounding board when circumstances directed.
The admiral rose and paced his office. The battleship Yamato was in calm waters, and there was very little motion as she knifed through the sea. That and the sheer size of the ship made for a stable platform.
“We cannot win a war of attrition,” Yamamoto continued, “and we cannot permit the Americans time to rearm. Have you seen the reports from Fuchida on Molokai? He’s already lost half his planes. The Americans may not have any fighters, but they do have antiaircraft guns and they use them quite well. Add those to the pilots we are now losing from the carriers and we may have a serious problem to resolve. Damn their foolishness anyhow!”
Watanabe concurred. The foolishness referred to was the Japanese pilots’ continuing resistance to wearing parachutes. Flouting direct orders, the carrier pilots either didn’t take them, or didn’t hook them up when in their planes. Their excuse was that sitting on a parachute made flying awkward. Everyone knew better. A parachute was a violation of bushido. A warrior dies in battle; he does not parachute away from the foe. That this attitude took the lives of highly skilled and virtually irreplaceable carrier pilots didn’t faze them one bit.
It did, however, faze Yamamoto, Nagumo, and Fuchida. Carrier pilots were excessively trained in Yamamoto’s opinion, and there were too few of them to use as reinforcements after lives were thrown away. Planes could be built by the thousands, but where would the pilots come from? He had tried to get modifications to the rigorous training program but had so far been unsuccessful. Even Commanders Fuchida and Genda, both products of the system, concurred that changes had to be made or Japan would run out of carrier pilots long before the Americans did.
As a result of casualties already taken, Yamamoto had made the decision not to send Nagumo’s carriers on a raid through the Indian Ocean to Ceylon after Oahu fell. No, they would need time to regroup before striking toward Australia. The Royal Navy bases at Trincomalee and elsewhere would keep for another day. Fortunately, the Royal Navy contingent in the Indian Ocean was not a great threat. At least not yet.
“Watanabe?”
“Sir?”
“If the Americans are not going to rise to the bait, then we must end this as soon as possible. Please inform General Tadoyashi that there is no need for him to hold anything back. The Americans simply are not coming. Please tell him that I would appreciate it greatly if he would use whatever force is necessary to bring this campaign to a quick and decisive halt.”