That was about to change. A runner arrived at daybreak with new orders for Lieutenant Steele. The soldiers of Patrol Easy were still licking their wounds from the battle at the baseball stadium, but it turned out that they been assigned a special task that took them all by surprise and would be one of their greatest challenges yet.
“Grab a seat,” Steele said, having gathered them all to hear what he had to say. Deke and the rest of the patrol, along with the Filipino fighters, could only guess at what they were being asked to do next. Deke glanced at Juana, who was watching the lieutenant intently, ready for anything. She looked up and caught Deke’s eye. Her lips were normally set in a grim line, but she gave him a slight smile. Deke did the same in return.
Philly had caught sight of that exchange and stared as if he had just witnessed two lumps of coal suddenly sparkle like diamonds. He opened his mouth to say something that he would probably regret, but at that moment the lieutenant started to speak and saved his bacon.
“We’re being asked to do a job that requires some finesse,” Steele began. “HQ wants us there because we are good shots, but there may not be any shooting. In fact, it would be better if there wasn’t.”
Philly spoke up as usual. “With all due respect, Honcho, what the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m getting to that,” Steele said. “I’m talking about a hostage situation. Our boys have a bunch of Japanese surrounded at an old university near here, but it turns out the Japanese are holding prisoners there. A lot of those prisoners are Americans, and they are threatening to shoot them unless we give the Japanese safe passage.”
“Safe passage where?”
“They just want us to let them go. I’d imagine that they’re hoping to link up with the rest of their friends, planning to make a last stand in the old quarter of the city.”
“Why should we let them do that?” Philly wondered. “We’ll just have to fight them later.”
Steele shook his head. “Remember those hostages I mentioned? It all comes back to that. Anyhow, none of that is up to me. Our job is to pick off the Japanese if it comes to that. The brass doesn’t want to start shooting randomly with machine guns or artillery. We’d have a lot of dead prisoners then, including Americans. Some of the prisoners are women, from what I hear.”
“Who is going to negotiate with the Japanese?”
He nodded at Yoshio. “We have an interpreter, remember? That’s just in case they don’t speak English, although we know a lot of their officers do. But don’t worry, HQ is sending an officer to lead the negotiations.”
“It figures,” Philly said. “What’s the matter, Honcho? Doesn’t anybody trust us?”
“Look at this way, fellas. If any of the prisoners get killed, it’s on him,” Honcho said. “As usual, our job is mainly to shoot Japs — if we’re needed to do that.”
Steele explained that the negotiator was slated to meet them at the campus. Within the hour, they were moving through the increasingly ruined city, heading in the direction of the university. Once-proud buildings had been reduced to rubble during the fighting, mostly the result of artillery that was being used to systematically destroy any structure harboring the enemy. So much dust hung in the humid air that the sunlight turned a strange burnished sepia tone, like it was filtering through a faded yellow curtain at Grandma’s house.
Bodies of dead Japanese soldiers lay strewn here and there, but there were many more dead city residents, a grim reminder of the price that Manila had been paying. The Filipinos who hadn’t fled worked to gather and bury the bodies, but it was hard to keep up. Nobody bothered with the enemy dead. Stray dogs with their ribs sticking out nosed through the ruins, hoping for scraps.
“It looks like the surface of the moon,” Yoshio said sadly.
“I haven’t been to the moon, but that sounds about right,” Deke replied.
Where the fighting had quieted down, bulldozers were at work, pushing the rubble aside to clear the streets so that tanks and supply trucks could advance more easily. Their loud engines and belching smoke only added to the chaotic feel of destruction.
“Keep your eyes open,” Lieutenant Steele warned. “There’s no telling if there are still a few Nips around.”
“They’re as hard to wipe out as sewer rats,” Philly muttered.
Seconds after Honcho had issued his warning, a shot rang out, targeting one of the nearby bulldozers. Deke literally saw the spark as the bullet glanced off the dozer’s heavy frame. Inside the cab of the roaring dozer, the engine noise was so loud that the operator didn’t even know that he was being shot at.
Honcho waved at the man to get down, but the operator either didn’t see him or didn’t know what was going on.
The next shot was right on target, hitting the dozer operator square in the chest. The man slumped behind the controls, and the dozer rolled on as if it had a mind of its own, finally coming to rest against the stout wall of a building, engine grumbling, smoke pouring from the exhaust.
Another shot echoed along the street, but Patrol Easy had taken cover behind some of the larger chunks of rubble. The street-clearing crew had come to a stop, having seen what had befallen the other dozer operator.
“Anybody see where that sniper was at?” Philly called, scanning the remains of the hollowed-out buildings nearby nervously.
“On it,” said Deke, who thought that he had seen movement in the empty window of a building that still stood at the end of the block. He put his rifle to his shoulder and the scope to his eye, praying that the sniper gave himself away.
Sharp-eyed Juana had seen something too. “There,” she said, pointing, before swinging her own rifle up. She had found cover behind a chunk of concrete not more than a couple of yards from where Deke hid, his rifle resting on a stone block to steady it.
Even through the scope, it was hard for Deke to see any sign of the sniper, because the brownish uniforms worn by the Japanese blended in all too well with the dust-colored buildings, providing nearly perfect camouflage.
But Deke was nothing if not patient. He kept his eye trained on the spot where he thought that he’d spotted movement. He didn’t have to spare a sideways glance to know that Juana was doing the same beside him, although her rifle lacked a telescopic sight. Over the last several days, she had done well with the iron sights. Deke’s eyes were good, but he was beginning to wonder if Juana was even more eagle-eyed than he was. The thought made him smile.
The enemy sniper made the mistake of firing again. His bullet cracked harmlessly overhead but kept the soldiers pinned down. Nobody wanted to end up in his sights.
Deke couldn’t even say that he actually saw the muzzle flash so much as the pressure wave of hot gases leaving the muzzle, creating a split-second ripple against the still backdrop. Looking closer through the scope, he saw a square of the enemy sniper’s cheekbone, the sweaty flesh not quite blending in with the sun-dappled ruins in which the sniper hid. Breathing out, Deke put his crosshairs on that spot and squeezed the trigger.
At the same instant that he fired, he heard the crack of Juana’s rifle.
The enemy sniper never had a chance. Both bullets hit him at once, flinging him back into the ruined room behind him.
Deke looked over at Juana, who returned his gaze and gave him a nod. Again, he thought he saw a slight smile play over her lips. My kind of girl, Deke thought.
“You two make a pretty good team,” Philly said. “I’ve got to say, I’m a little worried that I might be replaced. I always thought it was you and me, Corn Pone.”
“Let’s face it, Philly,” Deke said, grinning. “She’s a better shot than you, and she’s a whole lot better looking.”