“Damn these lying people!” the father shouted, but he allowed himself to be shoved back into formation. He really didn’t have any choice.
But Sergeant Inaba had to get in one last blow. He used the metal butt of the submachine gun to jab Big Mike savagely in the small of his back, right in the kidney. The prisoner cried out in pain and sank to his knees.
“Damn you, Inaba!” Big Mike shouted.
The sergeant just smiled. He raised the weapon as if to smash Big Mike again, but stopped when Major Tanigawa shouted something. It was likely that the major was less motivated by any sense of kindness toward the prisoner who was now on his knees than by a desire to maintain the calm after a melee had nearly broken out. Reluctantly, Inaba lowered the weapon.
The rest of the Japanese got back in formation, sandwiching the prisoners in the middle as neatly as a hot dog inside a bun or jelly inside a doughnut.
“One thing for sure, that boy’s father has got a loud mouth,” said Philly, lowering his rifle. “He’s not afraid of these Japanese.”
“In my experience, being a loudmouth can be a health hazard,” Deke replied, muttering around his rifle stock. He hadn’t taken his sights off the Japanese major, a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed by the lieutenant.
“Deke, lower your weapon, dammit,” Honcho said.
“All right,” Deke said, taking his time doing it.
He didn’t like how this was unfolding at all.
Briefly, Deke had been a prisoner himself during a rescue mission on Leyte. General MacArthur had made the release of POWs a priority, just as he was doing here in Manila, so Patrol Easy had found itself at a remote jungle prison camp. The best way of getting the prisoners out had promised to be from within, so Deke had allowed himself to be captured, posing as a lost GI. He had then helped lead the prisoners through the wire and toward safety, all while being pursued by the Japanese guards and a demented camp commandant with a bow and arrow. It had made for a memorable few days, to say the least.
In any case, Deke could certainly sympathize with how these prisoners must feel now, with freedom snatched from them at the last instant. It didn’t sit right with him.
He wasn’t the only one.
“What the hell is happening here?” Honcho wondered aloud. “This wasn’t the deal. They’re supposed to let the prisoners go. Dammit, Oatmire, go talk to him.”
Tanigawa now stood at the head of the Japanese formation, calmly watching as Captain Oatmire approached him again. This time there was no charade about the need for interpreters. It had already become clear that the officer spoke English.
“Major Tanigawa, what the hell is going on?” Oatmire demanded.
Tanigawa gave him a cold smile. “Insurance policy,” he said. “I think that is the expression that you Americans would use.”
“That wasn’t the agreement,” Oatmire complained. He felt his temper spike and struggled to keep it under control, knowing that it wouldn’t make the situation any better. “We didn’t talk about any damn insurance policies.”
Tanigawa just shrugged. “Do you wish for the release of the prisoners or not? I have let most of them go. These few will be released once we reach our destination.”
Oatmire marched back to Lieutenant Steele with the bad news. “I hate to say it, but these Japs have us stuck between a rock and a hard place.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Honcho said. “I would’ve said they had our nuts in a vise.”
“Well, that too,” Oatmire admitted. “Dammit, I feel like my first hostage negotiation didn’t go so well. I must have missed something.”
“Captain, the only mistake you made was trusting these lying Nips in the first place,” Steele said.
“No kidding,” Oatmire said, sounding disgusted.
“Not your fault, you know. You were simply making a good-faith effort. I’ve got to say, I don’t like it any better than you do, but at this point, I don’t think we have much of a choice except to go along with what Tanigawa wants. We’ll escort them to wherever they want to go, and then we’ll see that the prisoners are released.”
“All right,” Oatmire agreed. Although he outranked the older man, he wasn’t about to order around the lieutenant or his veteran combat patrol. “Sounds like the only choice we have.”
“I’d suggest that we just keep one thing in mind,” Steele added.
“What’s that, lieutenant?”
“The Japanese have already lied to us, so chances are that they’ll do it again. Knowing that, let’s both of us be on our toes in dealing with them.”
Right before they moved out, Sergeant Inaba barked an order and several of the Japanese soldiers fixed bayonets. Their intent seemed to be to use the bayonets to prod their prisoners along. If anyone was too slow or caused trouble, such as trying to make a run for it, the Japanese clearly meant to stab them in the back.
The icing on the cake was a soldier who carried a Japanese flag next to Major Tanigawa at the front of the column.
“It looks like they’re having a damn parade,” Deke muttered.
