Then again, Deke knew that his luck wouldn’t hold forever. He had to either get to cover or get rid of those Japs.
Deke’s first instinct was to fight. He thought about stopping to fire a few shots at the Japs, but he resisted the urge and kept going. He had to get to Ingram before he bled out and it was too late.
Above him, he could see Ingram slumped beside the path. With a final scrabble, Deke was able to reach him.
“You came back,” Ingram managed to wheeze.
“I said I would, didn’t I?”
“You’re all right, Deke,” he said. He winced in pain. “Dying is a bitch.”
“Hush now and save your breath.”
Deke took the bandages and pressed them against the pulsating wound in Ingram’s throat. He realized that there weren’t enough bandages on Guam to save Ingram.
Blood soaked the front of Ingram’s shirt and even reddened the ground. He had simply lost too much blood.
Deke fiddled with the bandages, which were already soaked through.
Weakly, Ingram pulled Deke’s hand and didn’t let go. Ingram’s eyes had taken on a glassy look, but he managed to focus them on Deke. Deke saw fear in those eyes. He looked away, feeling surprised and a little ashamed for Ingram. He knew that wasn’t the way that Ingram would want anyone to see him leaving this world.
Ingram had been a big athletic bastard. He’d also been confident in himself. Deke couldn’t help but wonder what someone would see in his own eyes, if he happened to be the one lying there with a bullet through his throat. With any luck, he’d get shot through the head and never feel a thing.
Ingram’s eyes had grown more distant, his grip on Deke’s hand weaker. The big man shuddered once or twice; then the light went out of his eyes. Ingram was gone.
If the Japs had managed to kill someone like Ingram, strong as a bull, what chance did the rest of them have?
Deke slumped back into the bushes, suddenly aware that bullets were still spitting past him from time to time. Son of a bitch. He was sick and tired of these Japs. They had killed Ingram and shot Lieutenant Steele. They were still busy trying to kill him and the rest of Patrol Easy.
He reached for his rifle, madder than a hornet.
They had known that the ravine might be an ambush, but they thought that they’d taken care of that when Deke had eliminated those two snipers. As it turned out, there had been yet more Japanese hidden down in the tall grass, completing the ambush. But the ambush was even more multilayered than that. Not only had the Japs been waiting for them in the ravine, but there were a handful of the greasy yellow bastards on the hill above them. At least one of the Japs was a damn good shot — it hadn’t been random bullets that had brought down Ingram or the lieutenant. No, Deke decided, that had been a very deliberate shooting.
He was a sitting duck up here on the steep path, without any real cover other than scrubby bushes that wouldn’t hide a skinny cat.
“Sorry about this, ol’ buddy,” Deke said, and rolled Ingram’s body onto its side. He grunted with the effort, reminded again of how big Ingram was. The result was that Ingram created a barrier between Deke and the Japs on the hill. He managed to spoon against Ingram, making himself nearly invisible behind the larger man. It wasn’t comfortable, but Deke twisted himself around to set his rifle on top of Ingram’s shoulder.
Desperately, Deke searched for a target, pressing his eye tight to the scope. Ain’t none of us gettin’ out of here alive if I don’t nail some of those Nip sons of bitches.
On the hillside, he spotted a Jap, the enemy soldier’s head and shoulders visible above the pointy blades of kunai grass. Deke put the crosshairs on him and dropped him. He worked the bolt, swung the rifle, and shot another Jap.
Two down, maybe three or four to go. There hadn’t been more than a handful of them up there. But the Japs had quickly figured out that someone was picking them off, and they’d settled into the deep grass, out of sight. All that Deke could see was a sea of grass, the tops moving in the breeze.
It didn’t help that the Japanese rifles, with their lighter cartridges, made what sounded like a faint pop that was hard to pinpoint. Not for the first time, the smaller caliber seemed to be a distinct advantage. The grass, the wind, the hills themselves worked to absorb the sound, adding to Deke’s frustration.
Another Jap showed himself, rising slowly from the grassy hillside as if he were growing out of it. Through the scope, Deke saw the white headband with its bloodred symbol. Deke had started thinking of him as the Samurai Sniper. He realized that this was the same sniper that he had seen during the all-out Japanese attack. More than anything, he recognized the man’s cold stare, even across the distance separating them.
He wasn’t sure if the enemy sniper was challenging him to a duel or, worse yet, taunting him. To hell with that. Deke put the crosshairs right on the center of the Jap sniper’s headband and squeezed the trigger—
Nothing happened. He had forgotten to work the bolt and feed another round into the chamber.
Cursing his foolishness, he ran the bolt, then fired.
But not before the Samurai Sniper sank back down into the grass and disappeared.
Deke never saw where his bullet went, but he definitely hadn’t hit the sniper.
Down below, he could see what was left of the squad trying to scramble up the path leading out of the ravine. Rodeo and Alphabet appeared to be carrying Lieutenant Steele between them. Either he was still alive, or they didn’t want to leave the officer’s body behind with nothing but dead Nips to keep it company.
On the far side of the ravine, they would be safe from the Japanese riflemen. The steep angle meant that they would be in defilade so that the Japanese couldn’t look down and see them.
A bullet smacked into the body with a meaty sound. Deke kept his head down and willed himself to sink into the ground. He and the Japs were at a stalemate. He knew that it wouldn’t last long, but at least it was buying the rest of the squad time to get out of the ravine.
Another bullet whacked into the body, but peeking out, Deke couldn’t see where the shot had come from — just the empty hillside. He decided not to shoot back and pinpoint his location for the Jap snipers.
They couldn’t get to him, and he couldn’t get to them. Deke was no wordsmith, but he muttered to himself, “Well now, I reckon that what we’ve got here is a Mexican standoff.”
Okubo felt frustrated by the situation that had unfolded. The ambush had started out as a success, but the sniper on the slope was now causing problems. In the ravine below, the Americans had moved out of sight. Soon the Americans would be making their way up the steep path, and when they reached the top, that would be a complication for Okubo and his squad.
Meanwhile, the sniper on the slope was using his dead comrade’s body for cover most effectively. Although it was just what he would have done had their roles been reversed, it now meant that Okubo and his team were essentially pinned down. If any of them moved, the sniper would pick them off. Perhaps the enemy sniper was more than a worthy adversary — he was dangerous.
As a sniper, Okubo was patient — to a point. But he recognized an impasse when he saw one. He needed something to break loose. What he had to do was to get the American sniper to reveal himself.
He turned to a soldier, lying prone in the grass to Okubo’s left. “Private, why are you hiding like that? Stand up and fire at that soldier.”
“Sir?”
“Do as I say!”