Philly appeared amused. “What’s the matter? You afraid of the dark?”
“It’s not the dark, it’s the ghosts,” he said. “This place is filled with them.”
Philly’s eyes widened. The look of amusement had vanished. Like Yoshio, he had also gone pale. “Ghosts?”
“Spirits of the dead,” Yoshio said. “Japanese spirits. Yōkai. They cling to this place. They do not want us here.”
Deke didn’t spook easily, but he still felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck. “Dammit, you two, that’s enough hogwash for one day,” he said. “Let’s get the hell out of here and get back to the others.”
Quickly, they made their way to the main tunnel, where they found the others waiting tensely.
“Dammit, Yoshio. You gave us a scare. Everybody stick together,” Steele said. “Don’t lose sight of the man in front of you. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
They continued, with Deke once more leading the way, Danilo and Philly right on his heels. They came to another wide place in the tunnel, this one crammed with wooden crates and boxes.
“End of the road,” Deke said. “This is as far as the tunnel goes.”
“Good to know,” Philly said. “I was starting to think Honcho was serious about this tunnel going all the way to Tokyo.”
By now they were deep within the hill, and it was evident that the Japanese had decided this was a safe place for an ammo dump. Crates filled with munitions stretched in every direction when they played their flashlights over the storage area. There were several barrels of what appeared to be fuel stacked neatly next to the ammo.
“What have we here?” Deke wondered.
“Nobody light a match, that’s for damn sure,” Philly said. “This whole place is a giant powder keg.”
Coming up behind them, Lieutenant Steele let out a low whistle. He couldn’t help himself. By far, this was the largest enemy ammo dump that they had come across. “Nice work, boys,” he said. “We need to get back and report this. Now let’s get the hell out of here before anything goes boom.”
CHAPTER SIX
They carefully retraced their steps, with Deke hoping that they hadn’t missed any traps that had been set for them. Back at the surface, free of the dark and stifling tunnel, Deke and everyone else were glad to see sunshine and breathe fresh air, even if it was humid and smelled vaguely of the enemy dead decomposing in the ditches and undergrowth. By now they were used to that.
Orders soon came back from headquarters that the tunnel had to be cleared of munitions.
“Why can’t we just seal it off?” Philly wanted to know. “We could just pretend we never found it.”
“That’s too much ordnance to leave there,” Steele explained. “If it ever blows, the whole top of this hill will turn into a volcano. There’s a village right near here and people will be moving back in now that the Japanese are on their way out.”
“Honcho, I’ve just got to say that clearing out a tunnel doesn’t sound like the right job for us,” Philly said. “We’re supposed to be scouts and snipers.”
“But we’re the lucky bastards who happen to be here,” Steele said.
As it turned out, the job wouldn’t be Patrol Easy’s to do alone. Word came down that soldiers from the 92nd Bomb Disposal Squad would be called in, with Patrol Easy assigned to help out. What help they were supposed to give a bomb squad was anybody’s guess.
It turned out that the “bomb squad” consisted of just two men. The 92nd was stretched thin from being called upon to deal with weapons stockpiles that had been left behind by the Japanese.
“Honcho, the bomb squad guys are here,” Philly announced, leading them to where the lieutenant sat Indian style on the ground, studying a map and smoking a cigarette.
“Just two of you?” Lieutenant Steele asked in surprise.
“Our guys are in demand, sir. What can we say?” replied one of the soldiers, a taller man who informed them that he went by his nickname, which was Sparks. His partner was a guy nicknamed Fuze. The men of Patrol Easy looked at one another, not sure that humor was the best quality in a bomb squad technician.
“Don’t you worry, sir,” Sparks said. “We’ll do a bang-up job.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t put it that way,” Steele muttered. “Sparks and Fuze, huh? You guys are a regular couple of comedians. All right, let’s get to it. Tell us what to do.”
“You got it, sir.”
“Listen, there are still a lot of Japs around, so do me a favor and call me Honcho.”
“Honcho, huh? I like that, sir. Keeps any nosy Japs from figuring out you’re the man in charge. I hear snipers like to target officers.”
“You heard right. So don’t call me sir again. And you sure as hell better not salute me.”
Sparks got the message loud and clear. “You got it, Honcho.”
Despite his joking manner, the man seemed to know his job, announcing that the first order of business was to check for any booby traps hidden within the stockpile itself and then take inventory. The stockpile discovered by Patrol Easy was one of the biggest yet, although it was expected that by the time the army got to Manila, there would be even larger ammunition dumps — if the Japanese didn’t destroy them first. It could only be supposed that the Japanese had simply run out of time to blow up this underground depot.
The Japanese had evidently planned on letting the advancing soldiers do that job for them. Patrol Easy reentered the tunnel to escort the bomb squad experts. Close to the ammunition stockpile, Sparks and Fuze found several trip wires attached to mines. If Patrol Easy had gone poking around, Sparks informed them, setting off a mine might have been enough to trigger the entire ammunition dump.
“You did good getting out of here alive, fellas,” Sparks announced. “One wrong step and you would’ve been blown so high that you all would’ve been dancing on the moon.”
“Good thing, because I forgot my dancing shoes,” Philly said.
“All right, I’d suggest that everybody clear out of the tunnel for now,” Sparks said. He held up a pair of pliers and snapped them open and shut. “Fuze and I need to decommission these booby traps before we can start to haul this out of here.”
“You sure about this?” Steele asked.
Despite all his wisecracks, Sparks seemed serious and competent when it came to his job. “As sure as I’m going to be, Honcho. When it comes to the bomb squad, we like to say that you only make a mistake once in your career.”
“I don’t like leaving you boys alone,” the lieutenant said. “If nothing else, someone ought to stay down here to watch your back in case there are any Japanese lurking around. They could take you guys out and blow up this whole damn hill.”
“We won’t say no to that if you can spare a couple of guys,” Sparks said. “As long as they’re volunteers.”
“That’s easy, because one of them will be me,” Steele said. He turned to his men. “Anybody else?”
Deke found himself stepping forward. Maybe he was a fool, but he wasn’t about to leave the lieutenant alone on guard duty. “I reckon I’ll hang back with you, Honcho.”
“All right, Deke. I appreciate it, but it’s your funeral. The rest of you, get the hell out of here until you get the all clear from us.”
Not much rattled Deke, but as he watched the two wisecracking soldiers of the demolitions team prepare to deactivate the devices that the enemy had left behind, he discovered that his heart was pounding. In fact, he was a bit surprised that the lieutenant couldn’t hear it a few feet away.