For the briefest of moments, Deke and Juana found themselves alone. This morning their missions would take them in different directions.
Deke turned to her and said quietly, “Listen, Juana. If I die, I want you to know that I… that I—”
Juana shook her head and touched a finger to his lips, silencing him. “No dying,” she said, then added a few words in Tagalog: “Makinig sa akin, sundalo. Only winning.”
Lowering her hand, she went to join the other Filipino fighters.
Standing nearby, Philly had overheard the exchange. “I like how she thinks,” he said. “But if you do get killed, can I have your bowie knife?”
“Sure you can have it.” Deke touched the hilt and grinned. “Just as soon as you pull it out from between your ribs.”
“Very funny,” Philly replied.
Deke pantomimed drawing the knife, and Philly pretended to double over with an imaginary stab wound. Both men suddenly looked younger than they had in months, more like overgrown boys, the weight of war momentarily lifted.
Honcho spoke up: “I’ll be damned, Deke. That’s the best mood I’ve ever seen you in. Maybe you ought to get laid more often.”
“Wha—” Deke reddened.
Honcho went on, “Now, if you two are finished playing grab-ass, how about we go shoot us some Japs?”
Twenty minutes later, Patrol Easy found itself back at the open square, looking out at the rubble-filled space. The landscape was becoming all too familiar to the point that Deke longed for some greenery, which made him feel most at home.
Aside from a few trees shattered by bombs, there wasn’t a stick of vegetation. The acrid smell of smoke and gunpowder hung in the air, along with a whiff of sewage and worse, a reminder of the violence that had taken place. The taste of dust and grit lingered on Deke’s tongue as he breathed in the aftermath of destruction. Every now and then the sound of a distant explosion and the rattle of machine-gun fire could be heard, another reminder that the war was still raging.
Presiding over the space stretching before them was the legislative building. The building stood tall and imposing, its exterior marred by bomb blasts and pockmarked by bullets. However, the thick walls looked impenetrable and forbidding. The Japanese flag flew boldly from the parapet. They could see Japanese soldiers in some of the window openings, waiting for them. One soldier broke discipline and fired a shot that whispered overhead, causing Deke’s spine to tingle.
“I guess it was too much to hope that the Japanese moved out during the night,” Deke said.
“That would mean we’d miss all the fun,” Philly replied.
Honcho glared at the enemy flag. “If the sight of that flag isn’t a sharp stick in the eye, then I don’t know what is,” he said. “One way or another, that flag is coming down today.”
Honcho glanced at Captain Oatmire, who simply nodded back in agreement. He was letting the lieutenant call the shots, which in Deke’s mind was the smart thing to do.
Then again, bringing down that Japanese flag might be easier said than done. The enemy was still firmly entrenched in the fortresslike building.
Deke realized that his plan would have worked better under cover of darkness, but they had learned that the night belonged to the Japanese. Whether it was on land or at sea, the Japanese had extensive training in night fighting. They knew what tactics worked best, and they had practiced nighttime combat. Most of their deadly banzai attacks came at night, taking advantage of the cover of darkness. Whether the Americans wanted to admit it or not, these night tactics added to the fear that the Japanese inspired in their adversaries. Americans preferred to fight by the light of day.
Here in the morning light, there was no point in trying to be stealthy. The Japanese were certainly on watch and likely had spotted them as soon as they’d entered the square. Adding to the lack of surprise was the fact that Danilo had spotted a stray dog chewing at something in the ruins. Manila, like most of the Philippines, had no shortage of the smallish, short-haired mutts that roamed the streets of cities and towns. The ownership of these dogs seemed to be loose and fluid. Consequently, the dogs had been left behind whenever civilians fled, and hunger made the animals desperate, sometimes roving in packs that had become a danger to the wounded or to children. When civilization faltered, it didn’t take long for nature to return to its natural state.
Danilo was nearest the dog and shouted at it, but the starving animal had responded by turning and growling at him, standing guard over whatever it had turned into a meal. Nobody wanted to think too much about what the dog had been eating. The poor beast was probably mad with hunger or possibly rabid. Danilo raised his rifle and fired a shot that struck close enough to the dog that it finally ran off.
“If nothing else, that will wake up the Japs,” Philly said.
He was right about that. Moments later, a burst of fire from a Nambu reached toward them, causing Patrol Easy to dive for cover.
“See, what did I tell you?” Philly said, hugging a concrete block as tracer fire passed overhead.
“When you’re right, you’re right,” Deke agreed.
“OK, now’s the time,” Honcho said. “Deke, you and Philly break right and see if you can work around their flank. I’ll give you a few minutes, and then I’ll let the Nips know we’re here.”
Deke did just that, keeping low, using the rubble and debris for cover. So far he didn’t think that he and Philly had been spotted. They kept moving, going as fast as they could to get around to the eastern side of the legislative building. They were running out of cover, however. If they tried to cross the last hundred feet or so of open ground, they would surely be seen.
“There’s not enough cover here for a rat,” Deke complained.
“That’s being generous,” Philly said, eyeing the ground. “I would have said there’s not enough cover for an ant.”
As if on cue, Patrol Easy opened fire on the legislative building, starting to advance toward it in a frontal attack. The Japanese inside the building quickly returned fire. There were a few rifle shots and then came the deadly peck, peck, peck of the Nambu from the top of the building.
“Go!” Deke urged, and scrambled across the open ground. Philly followed right behind him.
They covered the distance without anyone shooting at them and got to cover on the other side.
Deke was feeling good about his plan so far, at least until he ran into the Japanese outpost that had been hidden in the rubble. The Japanese gave a shout and opened fire. Deke raised his rifle and picked off one of the men, but that only made the three remaining soldiers that much more cautious. They took their time returning fire, choosing their shots and keeping Deke and Philly pinned down.
With a sinking feeling, he realized that his plan to surprise the Japanese by circling around the building had just fallen apart. Meanwhile, he could hear the deep boom of Honcho’s shotgun and the crack of rifle fire as the rest of Patrol Easy kept the Japanese occupied toward the front of the legislative building.
Now what? he wondered.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Inside the fortresslike legislative building, Tanigawa felt the noose tightening. The morning had dawned quietly, the first hour or two passing peacefully, until the flurry of fire from the square that signaled a fresh attack. There was also gunfire from one of the outposts, indicating that the attackers were also trying to flank them.
Going to the window, he glanced out and enjoyed the view of the early-morning sun, even as it lit the ruins. He couldn’t have said how, but he knew with certainty that this would be his last morning. He took a deep breath and enjoyed it, feeling calm in the knowledge. It was how his samurai ancestors would have greeted the dawn before a final battle.
He felt that he had served the Emperor well. He knew that a few officers might opt for seppuku, the traditional suicide ritual of the samurai warrior. He would not judge others for taking that course of action. His route was simply different, planning to die with honor, fighting to the last.
He was already dressed, but he took a moment to straighten his uniform, tugging at the creases, rewrapping the puttees around his calves, using a thumbnail to rub away a crusty spot of mud. There were a few splashes of dried blood here and there, but that couldn’t be helped. He combed his hair and carefully donned his officer’s hat.
Tanigawa studied the sword in its holder on his desk. He stood up and buckled it to his belt, feeling complete.
Although there was no mirror to check his appearance, he could see his reflection in the window glass. Perhaps it was better not to be able to see himself too closely. He grunted in satisfaction.
Yesterday’s rampage through the city streets had been a necessary bloodletting, an act of revenge. But today they were not facing helpless civilians. The soldiers attacking them were determined and skilled. The Japanese officer was well aware that if he killed these American soldiers, then there would only be more. Also, he was sure that the Americans had artillery, but had not been bringing it to bear, perhaps to protect the hostages still held by the Japanese.
He had decided that they would not hold these hostages for much longer. They had served their purpose. To that end, he summoned Sergeant Inaba, who he was sure would be glad to carry out the order. Quickly, he explained what he had in mind.
“Shoot the men, spare the women,” he said.
“Hai,” the always dutiful sergeant replied. If Sergeant Inaba was surprised by the fact that he wasn’t to shoot the nurses that had annoyed them so much, he didn’t show it.