No, this had to be part of something much bigger than simply embarrassing the Japanese, and he was pleased to be participating in it.
Charley Finch smiled contentedly as he sorted supplies. After what had seemed an eternity of furtive looking, he now had knowledge that was useful. A few casual comments and a couple of glances at documents he wasn’t supposed to see had told him that the Americans were up to something. Security in the camp was lax, and everyone seemed to think that everyone else was totally trustworthy. This had given him a golden opportunity, and he had made the most of it.
Incredibly, Novacek had gotten his hands on an airplane.
But what the hell was he going to do with it? Finch now had a solid idea where it was located, but he had no idea what kind of plane it was, or what it was going to be used for.
He could rule out a bomber, although stripped-down B-17s had flown from California to Hawaii last December. A bomber needed bombs and more fuel, and Charley was confident that Novacek had neither in any serious quantity.
So that left somebody’s personal, civilian plane, a leftover from before the war. Perhaps there was even more than one, but how did that change matters? Those were dinky-ass things with no range and minimal bomb-carrying capability.
Still, they could carry small bombs and could be fitted with machine guns.
That must be it, Charley decided. Fucking Novacek must be planning an attack on a Japanese outpost, and Hilo was the logical answer. All the Jap garrison at Hilo had was a couple of small seaplanes that they used to pretend they were scouting. Now all he had to do was get the information to Lieutenant Goto and collect his reward. He wouldn’t be able to guarantee the total destruction of Novacek’s group, but he could sure cut their balls off.
“Oh, there you are.”
Charley looked up quickly. It was Alexa Sanderson, and she was smiling at him. She sure was looking better since she and Novacek had started screwing each other’s brains out. The relationship was an open secret in the community, with no one disapproving. Charley didn’t care who she fucked.
“Jake wanted me to give you a message.”
“Sure,” he said.
“He wants you to go to a couple of the farms by Hilo that’ve been supplying us with food. Tell them we’ll need additional supplies and we’ll need them fast.”
“Uh, how fast, ma’am? They can’t grow what they don’t have.”
Alexa laughed easily. “Of course not. Tell them to gather what they can and have it ready at the prearranged sites within two weeks. For some reason, Jake thinks we may have to move from here fairly quickly, and he’ll want supplies positioned where we can get at them.”
Two weeks? Now he had a time frame for whatever they were up to. “I’ll leave tonight. Who will I take with me?”
“Do you need anyone?”
He shrugged. “Not really.”
“Good,” she said, her smile even wider. “Jake thinks we’ll be short of men, so if you can go alone, that’d be swell.”
When she left, Charley hummed happily. He had just been handed a gift from above. He could leave and give the information to Goto and, if necessary, come back to this stinking little camp. The fact that they’d have to move quickly meant that it wasn’t going to be only an air raid. He could tell the obnoxious lieutenant that there was going to be an infantry attack on Hilo in conjunction with the air attack.
As Colonel Omori had predicted, Admiral Yamamoto had not been pleased with their efforts. He and Admiral Iwabachi had been summoned to the admiral’s flagship, the Yamato, and were seated with Yamamoto in a conference room. Outside, the might of Imperial Japan lay at anchor in a stunning array of battleships, carriers, cruisers, and destroyers. The population of Honolulu had stood by the tens of thousands and gaped at the awesome might of Japan. Now maybe some of the nervous fools, those who were upset by the death of that girl, and all the others would realize just who was going to win this war.
Yamamoto glared at both men. “I had expected to see a fully functioning port and naval facility,” he said through tight lips, “not this collection of ruins and rusting hulks.”
Iwabachi also contained his anger. “With profoundest respects, Admiral, then you should have seen to it that I received the resources to accomplish the task. Not even the best of carpenters can drive nails without a hammer. Tokyo gave me seven thousand men to control all these islands and to contain many thousands of prisoners. They gave me few mechanics and skilled workers, no equipment, and no food.”
“What about the American men and equipment?”
Iwabachi laughed harshly. “Despite orders to the contrary, much of the port facilities and material that had not been damaged in the fighting were destroyed by the Americans. We executed some of those responsible, of course, but it was too late. The damage had been done.
“We used the prisoners and civilian workers, but they were indifferent workers at best, and some even committed further acts of sabotage. Then, as a result of the food shortages, they weakened, which slowed progress even further. After a while they became useless, which is why I had the prisoners shipped to Japan. I was told that my priority was the repair of the fuel storage facilities, and that task has been fulfilled. Even now, fuel is being added to them from your tankers. Any other work done by us was to provide suitable living quarters and to repair the roads. And, of course, I had to resolve the food situation.”
Yamamoto tapped the fingers of his mangled hand on the table between them. What the arrogant junior admiral had said was correct. Tokyo had not been fully confident that Hawaii could be held, so it had not provided the wherewithal to do a proper job. The government emissaries who expected to see the annexation of a radiant jewel in the middle of the Pacific would be disappointed, but they would have to deal with that fact.
But his presence now meant that this situation would change. Only moments before, he had received confirmation that the American carriers were in the Atlantic, off Iceland, and preparing for an undetermined action against Germany. Exactly what they were up to didn’t concern him. He didn’t care if the Americans tried to cruise up the Rhine. His only concern was that they were far away from Hawaii.
The sole remaining Allied force of significance in the Pacific was a British squadron that had taken up a position in Australian waters in anticipation of a move in that direction by Japan. Yamamoto had sent a pair of old battleships, a small carrier, and a dozen heavy and light cruisers toward Australia to threaten it and further mask his move to Hawaii. Now it seemed that the effort had not been necessary. The Americans were gone. The Pacific was Japan’s. The world would soon know that the fleet was in Hawaiian waters, and Tokyo would shortly announce that the annexation would occur. Representatives from Nazi Germany, along with emissaries from several puppet and neutral nations, had accompanied the fleet.
“On Saturday, August first,” Yamamoto said, “the Hawaiian Islands will be proclaimed a province of Japan. That is only a week from now, which is not enough time to change matters. When the fleet departs, which will be within a couple of days after that, I will leave you sufficient resources to carry out the following tasks.
“First, the airfields at Hickam, Ewa, and Barbers must be repaired. Second, the shore batteries and antiaircraft installations must be reconstructed.”
“Will I receive additional forces to man them?” Iwabachi asked.
“Of course,” Yamamoto snapped. “Then I want the wrecks removed from the harbor.”
Iwabachi nodded. “It will take a tremendous effort to remove the carcasses of the sunken battleships. It was not something I attempted to do because, even with the best of resources, it would take an enormous amount of time and effort.”