Even through the scope, it was hard for Deke to see any sign of the sniper, because the brownish uniforms worn by the Japanese blended in all too well with the dust-colored buildings, providing nearly perfect camouflage.
But Deke was nothing if not patient. He kept his eye trained on the spot where he thought that he’d spotted movement. He didn’t have to spare a sideways glance to know that Juana was doing the same beside him, although her rifle lacked a telescopic sight. Over the last several days, she had done well with the iron sights. Deke’s eyes were good, but he was beginning to wonder if Juana was even more eagle-eyed than he was. The thought made him smile.
The enemy sniper made the mistake of firing again. His bullet cracked harmlessly overhead but kept the soldiers pinned down. Nobody wanted to end up in his sights.
Deke couldn’t even say that he actually saw the muzzle flash so much as the pressure wave of hot gases leaving the muzzle, creating a split-second ripple against the still backdrop. Looking closer through the scope, he saw a square of the enemy sniper’s cheekbone, the sweaty flesh not quite blending in with the sun-dappled ruins in which the sniper hid. Breathing out, Deke put his crosshairs on that spot and squeezed the trigger.
At the same instant that he fired, he heard the crack of Juana’s rifle.
The enemy sniper never had a chance. Both bullets hit him at once, flinging him back into the ruined room behind him.
Deke looked over at Juana, who returned his gaze and gave him a nod. Again, he thought he saw a slight smile play over her lips. My kind of girl, Deke thought.
“You two make a pretty good team,” Philly said. “I’ve got to say, I’m a little worried that I might be replaced. I always thought it was you and me, Corn Pone.”
“Let’s face it, Philly,” Deke said, grinning. “She’s a better shot than you, and she’s a whole lot better looking.”
Philly laughed. “Is that so? In your case, I’d call that a match made in heaven.”
Deke didn’t say anything, but he’d been having that very same thought.
The body of the dead operator was removed from the bulldozer. He was carried away with as much dignity as possible under the circumstances. Someone else climbed into the dozer and gave the surrounding windows a nervous glance. The work clearing the streets resumed.
“All right, the show’s over, so let’s move out,” Honcho said. “In case you all forgot, we’re expected somewhere else.” He paused, looking around at the buildings where any number of snipers might be hiding. “Whatever you do, keep your eyes open.”
They moved cautiously through the ruined city, knowing that each empty window or pile of rubble might be concealing one more enemy soldier eager to die for the Emperor while trying to take out an American soldier at the same time.
Deke and Juana led the way, with Philly and Danilo just behind them. Every footstep felt tense as they threaded their way through the streets, dust from the rubble rising up to coat their boots and their trouser legs. As he walked, Deke’s eyes swiveled in every direction, looking for any sign of movement. Staying alive from one street corner to the next was starting to feel like a small miracle.
Anyone watching Deke would have been reminded of the way a hunting cat prowls through an alley, every muscle tense, ready to jump sideways or pounce, depending on what emerged from the shadows. But Deke was more than an alley cat; he was more like a mountain lion.
Block by block, they finally reached the university campus. A tank stood by silently, its gun covering the entrance to one of the taller buildings.
“What’s the situation?” Steele asked the tank commander.
“That’s where the Japanese are holed up with their hostages, sir,” the sergeant replied, nodding at the building. “I’ve got to say, I’d rather shoot at them than talk to them.”
“It’s new territory for us all, Sergeant,” Steele replied.
Steele looked around. Other than the tank crew, who did look itchy to open fire rather than negotiate with the enemy, the only other person around was a dark-haired boy who was keeping his distance from the soldiers. Though dark-haired and with brown almond-shaped eyes, his boyishly handsome face had pale skin and Caucasian features, seeming to combine the elements of both races in a way that surprised the lieutenant and his men. The soldiers were so used to the sight of Filipinos that they had almost forgotten that there were Americans and Europeans who had been left behind when the Japanese first sacked the city.
“Who the hell is that kid?” Steele wondered.
“Aw, he says his father is one of the prisoners inside,” the tank commander replied.
“He can’t hang around here,” Steele said.
“I told him that, but he’s still here, isn’t he?” The tank commander looked amused. “Now that you’re here, I guess it’s your turn to babysit that kid.”
“So he speaks English?”
“Sure, he speaks it as good as you or me. He just doesn’t listen so well.” The sergeant added, “Listen, sir, we’re gonna roll out. This tank isn’t doing much good here, anyhow, because if we open fire, we’ll bring that building down on the heads of everyone in it, including the hostages.”
“Good point, Sergeant. But are you sure you’re that tired of babysitting? What are you going to do instead?” Steele asked.
“We’re gonna go shoot us some rats,” the tank commander said, nodding at the large gun of the tank.
“Must be some big rats,” Steele said.
“City’s full of ’em,” the tank commander said. “Especially down at Intramuros, the old walled part of the city. That’s where the Japanese are planning to make their last stand.”
“Happy rat hunting,” Steele said.
The tank cranked up, exhaust fumes hanging heavy and the growl of the engine echoing off the stone faces of the nearby buildings. Then the tank rolled out, leaving Patrol Easy to keep watch and wait for the negotiator to arrive from HQ.
Steele looked over at the boy. “Hey, kid. Come here a minute.”
The boy approached cautiously, keeping out of arm’s reach. “Yes, sir?”
“I hear your father is inside.”
The boy nodded. He looked both angry and fearful, which was understandable under the circumstances. Steele was pretty sure there were a couple of tear tracks down the boy’s dusty face. “My father is American, but my mother is Filipino. My grandfather is judge of the appellate court. The Japanese took my father prisoner but left the rest of us alone.”
Steele could see now that in addition to his American and Filipino traits, the boy’s proud bearing hinted at some of the old Spanish blood typical of the city’s elite, which an appellate judge certainly was. Right now, it didn’t matter if the boy came from the upper classes. This was no place for any civilian, let alone a boy.
“I’m sorry about that, kid. But you need to go home. Your father wouldn’t want you to be out here. He’d want you to be home taking care of your mother.”
“She’s the one who sent me,” the boy said. “She wants me to bring him home as soon as the Japanese let him go. Our house was wrecked, so we’re living someplace else for now, and he wouldn’t be able to find us in this mess. I know this city about as well as anybody. The Japanese don’t pay much attention to a kid, so I’ve been coming and going here for weeks.”
The lieutenant rubbed his chin, thinking it over. It was bad enough that he had to cope with grouchy GIs, short-tempered commanding officers, bloodthirsty guerrillas, and sneaky Nips. Now it seemed that he also had to deal with a snot-nosed kid. He sighed.
Philly spoke up. “Honcho, you want me to give him a kick in the pants and send him on his way?”
“No, let him stay.” The lieutenant had done a quick mental calculation and didn’t like the boy’s chances of getting home alive on his own. He pointed to a large rock to Deke’s right. “Kid, get down behind that rock and don’t you move unless that man there tells you to. He’ll keep you alive if anyone can. Understood?”
The boy nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“What’s your name, anyhow?”
“Roddy MacGregor. My father’s name is Michael.” The boy paused, then added with a touch of pride, “His friends call him Big Mike because he’s so tall.”
“All right, Roddy. Keep your head down.”
From the open windows, they saw Caucasian faces peering out from the lower levels. Maybe one of those prisoners was the boy’s father. The faces of Japanese soldiers looked down from the higher levels of the building. The Japanese soldiers were pointing rifles at them. The Japanese didn’t open fire, and neither did Patrol Easy. Instead, the two sides kept under cover, watching one another warily.
“How long do we keep this up, Honcho?” Philly wanted to know.
“Until the cavalry gets here,” Steele replied.
“When is that?”
“Whenever they decide to show up, that’s when,” Steele snapped. “Meanwhile, everybody hold your fire. I see those Japanese in the windows as well as you do, but we don’t want to hit any prisoners.”
That said, Patrol Easy settled down to wait for this so-called cavalry, which at that moment was several miles away, riding on a bucking steed.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Captain Jim Oatmire had ridden in a jeep from the beach to the outskirts of Manila. Although the ride wasn’t exactly comfortable, he reminded himself that he had nothing to complain about. Much of the military force descending upon the city had arrived in a beach landing that had been largely unopposed, so different from the reception they had received from the Japanese when landing on Leyte. The Philippines was a nation of islands, and on the island of Luzon, the Japanese had withdrawn inland and awaited the approach of Allied troops. This was going to be a defensive operation. In part, this was why Manila had become a battleground.