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“I doubt that will happen, at least not right now,” Jack said. “The whole point of the operation is to draw more Nips to Choiseul. If there’s a native uprising and we leave, they’d be slaughtered.”

“I would venture to say that Kari and Fraser will not be told it is a diversion,” Kaz said.

“There’d be no need for them to know,” Jack said.

“Good,” I said. “If all goes as planned, Hugh Sexton will order them to meet us tomorrow night for a shipment of arms. We grab Fraser and come back. Simple.”

“Leaving the marines with only one Coastwatcher,” Jack said.

“That, or take a chance on Fraser getting away,” I said. “Besides, John Kari knows what he’s doing. Who better than a native to work with the natives?”

“Are you both sure you want to do this?” Jack said, looking first to Kaz and then to me. “You don’t have to, you know.”

“He killed Deanna, Jack,” I said.

“I know. That’s why I’ll take you tomorrow, orders or no, although orders would be nice. I’d like to avoid a court-martial if possible. But if you end up dead, it’s on your shoulders. I’ve gotten two guys killed already and I don’t want any more on my conscience.”

“Agreed,” I said, extending my hand. Kaz did the same. “It’s on our shoulders.”

Chapter Thirty

By morning we’d received responses to our radio messages. Without asking why this time, Hugh Sexton had set up a weapons drop on a deserted stretch of beach south of the village of Nukiki, the area where Kari and Porter were operating in support of the marines. He confirmed that they’d be waiting at 0100 hours, staying for no more than thirty minutes. They’d shine a flashlight out to sea to let us know it was safe to come ashore. Ritchie also gave his okay for Jack and PT-59 to ferry us out and wait for us to bring Porter back from the beach. The only downside was that Ritchie ordered Jack to wait only twenty minutes for our return.

That meant we had to get there right on time, given that the Coastwatchers would not stay exposed on an open beach for long. The same for PT-59; hanging around off the beach was an invitation to get trapped by a Jap destroyer and pushed too damn close to shore batteries and concentrated small-arms fire. We’d be on a tight schedule, but if all went according to plan, it would work.

Kaz and I drew weapons from the base armory; an M1 Carbine for him, an M1 rifle for me.

“Odds are we won’t need these,” I said, “for either Porter or the Japs. But if we do, don’t count on one bullet to take a man out. The carbine is lightweight, but so are the rounds.”

“I much prefer this weapon,” Kaz said, hefting the short carbine. “I am lightweight myself, but still quite dangerous.”

“That’s the spirit,” I said as we went off to check in with Jack. PT-59 was covered in camouflage netting, as much for the dappled shade it provided as for cover from the air. Crewmen were carrying crates of fifty-caliber ammo aboard, and Chappy was busy greasing the swivel on the forward forty-millimeter gun. He gave us a smile and a lazy salute, seeming to be satisfied with his handiwork.

“I got my orders from Ritchie,” Jack said, climbing onto the bridge. “Seems like he thinks it was my idea in the first place.”

“I figured he’d take to the idea easier that way,” I said, trying to read Jack’s face, which was tough with his aviator’s sunglasses and brimmed cap pulled down over his bushy hair. “Ritchie’s got connections with your father through ONI, and I didn’t want him to hesitate about putting you in harm’s way. And I don’t want to be your fall guy again.”

“After the baron reminded me of how I treated you back in Boston, I probably deserved that,” he said, and laughed, his eyes lighting up as he removed the sunglasses. “But harm’s way is exactly where I plan to go. Let’s head below and I’ll show you the route in.”

We followed, as I lifted my eyebrows at Kaz, astonished at what amounted to an apology from Jack. I had to admit, he wasn’t quite the same guy I knew back in Boston. Harder, and a touch more humble. Just a touch though, since he had to qualify his statement with “probably.”

“Here we go,” Jack continued, rolling out a chart in the tiny wardroom. “The marines landed here, at Voza, along the north central coast.” He tapped his finger about three-quarters of the way up the coast of Choiseul. “There’s lots of Japs south of there, down to Sangigai, here. We’re going in at Nukiki, which is north of Voza but not close enough to Choiseul Bay to worry about the Japs up there.”

“Why not simply go in at Voza, where the marines are?” I asked.

“They’ve already gone inland, established a base in the mountains, to raid north and south,” Jack explained. “The whole idea behind this diversion is to have the Japs think a full division has landed. The brass is even announcing the invasion on the radio. According to them, twenty thousand marines are now on Choiseul.”

“But the reality is six hundred or so,” Kaz said. “Not very good odds for them if the enemy rushes reinforcements to the island.”

“That’s what we want,” Jack said. “Then we hit their transports by sea and air, and get the marines out of there.”

“Sounds good on paper,” I said. “But then so does our scheme. What are the waters like off Nukiki?”

“Here,” Jack said, laying out several photographs on the table. “I got these reconnaissance photos from Garfield. This shows the beach right next to the village. There’s an opening in the reef that runs offshore; see where the water is calm? We can bring you in close and put you on a rubber raft.”

“How about rigging up a dummy crate of weapons?” Kaz said. “We could ask Porter to come back with us to get more. Once aboard, it would be simple to secure him.”

“If he buys it,” I said. “If not, we’ll need a length of rope to tie him up.”

“We’ll have both in the raft,” Jack said. “I’ll have the boys put K rations in a crate; that ought to work fine in the dark. We have enough canned pickles for a regiment.”

“We shall have to take him quickly,” Kaz said. “John Kari might intervene, if only out of confusion and shock.”

“They’re both in the thick of a fight right now,” Jack said. “They’re going to be keyed up, ready for anything. Watch yourselves out there. The Japs aren’t the only ones to worry about.”

“Jack,” I said, “if we’re not back pretty damn quick, don’t wait more than those twenty minutes. If it takes longer than that, we’re done for.”

“Don’t worry, Billy. I like you two fellas, but I’m not going to endanger this boat. Now get some shut-eye if you can. Be onboard by eighteen hundred hours. We’ll be in the Slot by dark, and then it’s a hundred-mile run. Don’t be late. If you’re not here, I’ll have to go after the bastard myself.” Jack flashed one of his patented grins, all white teeth and lively eyes. It was hard to resist his eagerness and his charm, and as we faced this hazardous mission together, I really didn’t want to.

Sleep had been elusive in the heat and thick, humid air, with sunlight blazing and baking our canvas tent. But that didn’t matter now; we were slicing through the waters of the Blanche Channel, Lumbari at our backs and a cool wind on our faces. Explosions reflected off the low clouds, the sounds and sudden flashes of light like fireworks on a summer’s night. Deadly up close, but at a distance, in the full South Pacific night, it was otherworldly, even glorious.

“They’re pounding the last Jap stronghold on New Georgia,” Jack said, his voice raised to be heard over the motors. “We might spot some barges bringing troops out.”

“Be hard to see,” I said. It was a cloudy night, not even reflected starlight to see by.

“We finally have radar,” he said. “If they’re out there, we’ll find them.”

Kaz and I exchanged glances. That wasn’t what we were out here for. I gave him a little shrug that told him not to worry. Jack wanted Porter taken as much as we did. He also wanted revenge, but I was hoping he’d hold off on hunting Japs until the return trip.