"The rains are getting harder," Lieutenant Uji exulted. "Under their cover we will soon launch ourselves against the enemy and rid Japan of their scourge."
Yokota agreed that the weather was truly flicking miserable. A couple of the men had developed hacking coughs and now vomited their rations. As to whether the Americans could be driven off, he had doubts. Even though many hundreds of other soldiers were well hidden in the area, he wondered what they could do against the American army's legendary firepower. What use was courage and a bayonet against a machine gun? He'd seen that scenario played out in China when the roles were reversed. There it had been the Chinese who'd had the courage but not the weapons, and they'd been slaughtered.
And how would his men react when the time came? To his surprise, Yokota had found himself growing attached to them and not wishing them harm. He was their grandfather and they came to him with all kinds of problems. One had asked him why they were fighting and when it would stop. It was evident from the way the others watched this one that he represented all of them. They were all smart and most were educated. In earlier days, Yokota would have slapped them for being weak or even beaten them senseless and sent them back to work, but not now. Too much had changed. These were children, not soldiers, and he grieved for them and what they would suffer. He told them the war would soon end.
Worse, he knew that he was only a couple of miles and a day or two away from his own destruction. This was not the way he'd planned it, and he racked his brain trying to figure a way out of the mess he'd gotten into. He would do everything he could to save his newfound children along with himself. Only problem was, he hadn't the foggiest idea how.
Chapter 72
Joe Nomura was half-asleep outside Hirohito's bedchamber when he heard the first shout of alarm. It was followed by a burst of gunfire and a scream that ended in a gurgle. It had begun. He checked the time. It was a couple of hours before dawn. Joe pulled his pistol from its holster and ran the few feet to Hirohito's quarters.
"Where're you going?" yelled Sakei as he charged in. "Traitors are attacking us. They want the emperor. We must stop them." He had his own pistol out and was casting about in sleep-induced confusion.
"I'm going to protect the emperor," Nomura answered, and pushed past him. Sakei didn't protest. Instead, he went on to battle what he thought were the Japanese forces trying to take or kill his emperor. Nomura hoped it would be several minutes longer before Sakei realized his mistake.
Hirohito was seated on the floor listening to the battle. Apprehension was on his face, but not fear. "It is time?"
Joe plopped down beside him. "Yes."
Further conversation was cut off by a fusillade of shots punctuated by further screams. "Your men got so very close before being detected, didn't they?"
The bad weather had worked in their favor and hidden the approach of the rangers and the frogmen. Refugees remained huddled in their miserable tents and shelters and ignored the thirty-odd men who'd moved with near perfect silence through the camp and toward the hospital. Those who saw them noted nothing unusual as the men had been draped in blankets. In the rain and dark they appeared to be another group of refugees, or additional troops for the mysterious compound.
More gunfire erupted, this time close. The top of the tent shuddered and a line of bullet holes appeared in it. It reminded Hirohito of the time when Sakei had first taken him prisoner in the bunker beneath the palace in Tokyo. It was hard for Hirohito to remember that it had been only half a year earlier. As if to complete the memory, Sakei burst in on them. He had a pistol in his hand and his face was contorted with rage.
"Americans!" His voice was a shriek. "Americans are attacking us." He turned to Nomura. "We must move the emperor immediately."
"No," Joe answered softly. He fired his pistol twice, hitting Sakei in the chest with both bullets.
Sakei dropped to his knees and let his pistol fall to the ground. "Not you," he muttered as realization dawned.
A moment's anger twisted Sakei's face before his eyes rolled up in his head and he slumped to the floor. An enlisted guard retreated in on them and Joe shot him in the back. Another entered and, seeing the bodies, ran away before Joe could kill him as well.
"Roy," a deep voice yelled.
"Trigger," Joe answered, completing the signal. After a moment's delay, Ens. Billy Swain entered the tent and looked in disbelief at the small man with glasses who sat with Nomura. He had known whom to expect, but it still came as a shock that the emperor of Japan sat on the floor a few feet in front of him.
"Un-fucking-believable," Swain whispered as Nomura and Hirohito stood up.
"What's he saying?" Hirohito asked.
"That he's glad to see you," Joe responded. "Now let's get out of here."
They ran outside where a perimeter had been set up. A ranger said that their commander had been killed. "We've got to get out of here right now," Swain said. There was no disagreement. "We've got about two miles to go."
Nomura had not been privy to this part of the operation. Again, what Joe didn't know, Joe couldn't tell. If the operation failed and he was captured, he could say nothing that would endanger his comrades. Thus, he was slightly surprised when they did not make a direct run to the ocean, which was less than ten miles from the camp. Swain had said two miles, so that meant something else was up.
First they retreated through the refugee camp. There was confusion and consternation everywhere as a result of the gunfire. People swirled and screamed as they tried to avoid the compact group of armed Americans pushing through them. No one appeared to notice the small, bespectacled civilian in their midst.
Finally, they made the safety of the brush and continued through it. Joe watched the effects of the night on Hirohito. While sometimes looking bewildered, he would see Joe looking at him and shake it off. He had made a fateful decision and would stand by it.
They came to a clearing. A handful of rangers emerged and a sergeant told Swain that the message had been sent. The cavalry was on the way.
"How many casualties?" Hirohito asked. Two dead and seven wounded, he was told. It amazed and saddened him that these young Americans had died or been hurt on his behalf.
"How long will this take?" Joe asked.
"Twenty minutes max," Swain replied.
This did not constitute good news to Joe, who recalled Sakei's comment about alerting local police and militia. "It better be soon. There were survivors among the guards and they'll have sent for help. Things are going to get very interesting if the planes don't arrive real fast."
Billy Swain grinned. "Planes? Joe, who the hell said anything about planes?"
Chapter 73
Admirals Nimitz and Halsey were uncomfortable with the situation in which they found themselves. The rain had kept the kamikazes away, but that was the only good thing they could say about the operation that had grown from the proverbial shoestring and now utilized a large part of America 's naval might.
They both thought it unlikely that the operation would succeed, with Halsey going so far as to say it hadn't a snowball's chance in hell. Nimitz had initially gone along with it because it seemed remotely possible and wouldn't cost much, thus making it worth a try. Now, as they waited in the night, their doubts ran wild.
They were on the bridge of the newest and largest carrier in the fleet, the recently commissioned USS Midway. The Midway was almost a thousand feet long, displaced over fifty-five thousand tons fully loaded, and carried 137 airplanes. Of particular importance, she was the only carrier in the U.S. fleet with an armored deck. In a lesson learned from the British, it was hoped that any kamikazes that did attack her would bounce off, which was why she had been rushed to completion and sent to Japan.