As Honcho had stated, this walled city was where the remaining Japanese in Manila had decided to make their stand. Not only was this the oldest quarter of the city, but it was basically a fortress in its own right, offering cover for house-to-house and street-to-street fighting, where the defenders would enjoy a distinct advantage. Every inch of ground would be hard-fought inside the walled city.
There were several gates into the city. Once they reached one of these gates, the Japanese called a halt. Major Tanigawa detached himself from his men long enough to approach his escort. He was still carrying his double rifle. The expensive hunting weapon with its ornate filigree and finely checked stock looked out of place in the rough surroundings, considering that most other weapons were dull, battered, and scratched. In comparison, the submachine gun that Sergeant Inaba carried appeared completely utilitarian, to the point that it looked as if it had been welded together out of scrap metal. But Deke had seen those Type 100 submachine guns in action and knew that a quick burst could practically cut a man in half. The weapon was just as brutal as it looked.
“This is our destination,” Tanigawa announced. “We will join our comrades here.”
“That’s as far as we go, then,” Steele said. “We’ll take those prisoners off your hands now.”
Tanigawa did not reply but shouted an order in Japanese. His men began to move through the gate, still surrounding the prisoners. He still had not acknowledged the lieutenant’s comment regarding the prisoners.
“Hey!” Honcho yelled. “What the hell is going on here?”
Tanigawa continued to ignore him as his men trooped inside the old city.
Deke and Philly raised their rifles, but Lieutenant Steele shouted, “Hold your fire! You’ll hit one of the hostages. Maybe the bastards will release them once they’re inside the city walls.”
Deke did not lower his rifle. He had Tanigawa in his sights and his finger on the trigger. All that he needed to do was put slightly more pressure on the trigger—
“Deke, do not fire that rifle!” Honcho shouted. “You’ll get every last hostage killed.”
“I ain’t gonna hit anybody but that Jap officer,” he muttered around the rifle stock, fully confident of where his bullet would go. He didn’t take his finger off the trigger.
“Do not fire. That’s an order!”
Slowly, Deke lowered his rifle, watching as the Japanese got farther away, becoming smaller targets. The snipers’ opportunity had passed.
Honcho’s hope that the Japanese would release the hostages at this point turned out to be wishful thinking. Even with their weapons trained on the Japanese, there was nothing they could do except watch in anger and frustration as the enemy troops moved inside. Suddenly the neat ranks of Japanese fell apart as the men at the back of the column spun around and sprayed fire at Patrol Easy and the Filipinos.
Deke noticed how that damn Inaba stood in the middle of the pack of Japanese, so close that Deke could see the maniacal grin on his face as the man hosed down everything in sight with his submachine gun. Deke and the others hit the deck, dodging bullets. Deke and the others put their rifles to their shoulders, ready to return fire. They hesitated, fearful of hitting the hostages. Meanwhile, short bursts from Inaba’s weapon kept them pinned down. Deke pressed his face into the dirt and dust, his mouth filling with grit as the fat slugs ricocheted around him.
“Hold your fire! Hold your fire!” Honcho shouted. “You’ll hit the prisoners!”
The lieutenant wasn’t the only one yelling. They heard the boy give a heartrending shout: “Papa!”
But Big Mike was likely too far away to hear and too close to the enemy gunfire. They had a final glimpse of his tall figure before he and the other hostages were spirited away at muzzle-point.
Helplessly, they had no choice but to watch while the Japanese slipped away into the city, taking the hostages with them. The enemy fire slackened and Deke straightened up, keeping the rifle to his shoulder, hoping for at least a parting shot, but no good target presented itself.
He lowered the rifle and spat some of the grit from his mouth into the dirt.
“Dammit all. Now what?” Honcho wondered, clenching and unclenching his fists in helpless anger.
The lieutenant seemed to be thinking out loud, but Deke went ahead and answered.
“We go after those lying bastards, that’s what,” Deke said.
In the ruins of Intramuros at the heart of the old colonial city, the final battle for Manila began. Most of the Americans knew that it was only a matter of time before they ground the enemy into defeat. However, the lives of the hostages now hung in the balance.
Like the others, Deke had watched with anger and disbelief as the Japanese disappeared into the ruins, using their human shields to keep them safe.
“What a bunch of yellow-bellied cowards,” he said. “They’re hiding behind prisoners, including a bunch of damn women.”
