“They’re Nips,” Philly pointed out. “What else do you expect?”
Deke hawked up some of the dust that had been collecting at the back of his throat and spat. His own saliva tasted like bitter bile. In situations like this, one of the best things he could think to do was to shoot something. His gray eyes flashing, he looked around for a target. He didn’t see anything stirring among the rubble, which only added to his frustration.
Somewhere in the surrounding walled ruins, the Japanese were ready to make their last stand. While Patrol Easy was mainly focused on liberating the hostages that Major Tanigawa had taken, they would face more challenges. It wasn’t just Major Tanigawa and his band, but several thousand die-hard Japanese soldiers that he had joined for this final struggle.
The simplest approach would have been to shell Intramuros into rubble, indiscriminately destroying every building in sight. However, the artillery units had been informed that there were American hostages within those walls. Lieutenant Steele and Patrol Easy were being given a very narrow window to find those hostages before the shells came raining down again.
Honcho wasn’t sure there would be enough time. He went in search of the artillery commander to beg him to hold off long enough to give Patrol Easy a chance to do things their way.
“Dammit, I’ll give you until lunchtime tomorrow,” the unhappy colonel grumped when Lieutenant Steele explained the situation. He chomped on a cigar and glared at the lieutenant as if holding off on an artillery barrage was a personal affront.
“Sir, that’s just not enough time. Hell, we don’t even know where the Japanese have taken these hostages.”
The colonel did not look sold on the idea, especially when it was coming from a mere lieutenant, so Captain Oatmire spoke up. His uniform was still clean enough that he was obviously not a combat soldier. He introduced himself as MacArthur’s liaison, which was something of a stretch. Still, the fact that he had come from headquarters gave his words extra weight in this situation. What he lacked in rank he hoped to make up for with clout. “Colonel, I have direct orders from General MacArthur to get those hostages to safety.”
Honcho gave him a sideways look. He knew that what Oatmire was saying wasn’t entirely true, but the colonel seemed to buy it hook, line, and sinker. “All right, I’ll give you a few more hours. Dammit, I’m not happy about it. I won’t have those Nips sneaking away again. If that’s not good enough for MacArthur, then by gum he’ll have to come down here and tell me in person.”
“Thank you, sir,” Oatmire said.
As they walked away, Honcho said, “That went better than I expected. If I didn’t know better, I would have believed you when you brought up that bit about MacArthur.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re not gonna go running to headquarters and tell them any different. Anyhow, believe me when I say that the last thing any career-minded officer wants to do is get on MacArthur’s bad side.”
“It seems to me maybe that’s just what you did, to get sent out here.”
“Come to think of it, you might be on to something.”
They returned to find Patrol Easy and the Filipino snipers waiting for them, plus the boy that had somehow latched on to them. Steele had mixed emotions about dragging the boy into this mess, but they were too deep into the city to send him home. Considering that the place was a war zone, he would never make it home.
The lieutenant looked around at the faces, which were tired and dusty. Hell, when was the last time that any of them had washed, slept, or eaten something that hadn’t come out of a ration can?
Even Deke, who was as lean as a locust fence post and usually took about as much abuse as one of those weathered posts without complaining, looked a bit gray around the edges. They would all have to get some decent sleep tonight, if the enemy let them.
To Honcho’s surprise, he saw that Deke wasn’t constantly scanning the surroundings, as he was wont to do. For a change, he was in a halting conversation with Juana. Then again, the Filipino girl was hardly a talker herself. They both knew just a few words of the other’s language. However, she seemed to understand Deacon Cole well enough.
Realization dawned on the lieutenant. Deke and Juana? He always counted on Deke to be as tightly strung as the short strings at the top of a guitar neck, a crack shot and cold-blooded hillbilly killer with a chip on his shoulder
