Deke got next to a chimney, which not only offered at least some cover but, more importantly, provided a solid surface to steady his rifle against. Philly set up on the other side of the chimney.
“I’ll take care of business,” Deke said. “You watch our backs. Maybe those Japs we saw earlier have some friends around.”
“You got it.”
Deke lined up his sights on the two machine gunners operating the Nambu. It was the longest shot that he had taken for a while, so he took his time steadying the sights, then raising his aim just a hair. If he missed, and they were spotted by the machine gunner, it was going to get unpleasant up here in a hurry, because there was precious little cover on the rooftop. First, he fired to take out the man feeding the ammo belt into the gun, the sound of the Nambu masking his shot. The man slumped down, but his comrade on the machine gun didn’t notice. Deke worked the bolt and fired again.
The machine gun fell silent.
Next, he turned his attention to the square below, where he could see Patrol Easy trying to advance against the superior numbers of the Japanese force defending the legislative building. The Americans and Filipinos were clearly outnumbered.
“There’s too many Japs,” Philly said.
“Let’s see if we can even the odds,” Deke said, putting his eye back to the rifle scope.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Across the square in the legislative building, the fleeing prisoners led by MacGregor had reached the rooftop. To his surprise, the two-gun crew was slumped behind their wall of sandbags, clearly dead. Briefly, MacGregor thought about taking command of the machine gun and using it against the Japanese, but there simply wasn’t time. Already the Japanese were in the stairway landing.
“Close the door!” he shouted as the last hostage made it through. The nurse turned and helped him slam the door shut. There was no lock on the outside, but he grabbed a length of broken board and jammed it under the doorknob. Already the soldiers on the other side were pounding on the door until it bounced in its frame. The door wouldn’t hold for long.
“What should we do?”
He looked around. It was a good question. They were trapped up here. He began to doubt the wisdom of having fled to the roof, but they were out of time or options.
“Everyone scatter and hide as best as you can,” he said. “Littleton and I will hold them off as long as we’re able to.”
The door shuddered again, then started to splinter. Littleton fired a shot through the door, then another. That slowed the enemy but did not stop them. A spray of bullets followed, wounding Littleton, who didn’t go down but limped away, turning and firing as he ran.
Then the door gave way and the Japanese came pouring out.
Deke was about to start picking off enemy soldiers in in the square below when he noticed a flurry of activity on the roof of the legislative building. He squinted through the scope to take a closer look. To his surprise, he saw the prisoners spilling out onto the roof of the legislative building. A couple of the men hung back, apparently trying to barricade the door.
“Philly, get a look at this,” he said, pointing toward the rooftop.
Philly glassed them with binoculars. “I’ll be damned. Those are the prisoners,” he said. They had both recognized the tall fellow, MacGregor, father to the boy who had fallen in with Patrol Easy. “But where are they going? They’re trapped up there. I see that they’re trying to barricade the door, but that won’t stop the Japanese.”
As if to prove the point, the door leading to the rooftop suddenly banged open, scattering the two men who had been trying to hold it closed against the Japanese. Enemy soldiers boiled out of the door like angry hornets looking for someone to sting. The last soldier out wore an officer’s uniform and carried a sword in addition to a rifle. Deke realized it was none other than Major Tanigawa.
For the prisoners trapped on the roof, the situation had just gone from bad to worse.
Within moments, he and Philly watched a drama play out on the rooftop, feeling helpless to do much about it.
Pursued by the Japanese, they could see that there was nowhere for the prisoners to go.
Deke glanced at the square below, where Patrol Easy was fighting for survival as the Japanese forces advanced. The next few minutes were going to be critical both on the roof and down in the square. With a sinking feeling, Deke realized that he had a choice to make. He and Philly could either save some of the prisoners, or they could help Patrol Easy. Which was it going to be?
As the door to the roof flew open, MacGregor turned to run, not sure where to run to. He dove behind a wide chimney before the Japanese spotted him. To his surprise, it was Inaba who went running past. On an impulse, MacGregor stuck out a long leg and tripped him.
Inaba went sprawling, his submachine gun flying out of his hands and clattering across the rooftop.
MacGregor marched toward him as the Japanese sergeant regained his feet. Inaba saw him coming and took a fighting stance, his weight on his back leg, body coiled, his arms raised in some kind of Japanese fighting position. Inaba made a noise that perhaps was intended to be a battle cry, more like a bellow than any kind of word. MacGregor thought it sounded like a noise that an upset steer would make.
“Kee-yiii!”
The big Texan was not impressed. This wasn’t his first rodeo — you didn’t grow up in Texas without getting in a fistfight or three. MacGregor expected an easy fight, but he soon found that he was sadly mistaken. Inaba turned out to know a trick or two. Overconfident, MacGregor swung. The Japanese sergeant easily dodged the blow and instantly hammered the American in the ribs with a quick one-two punch combination. Like lightning, a fist connected squarely against MacGregor’s face. He felt the wind knocked out of him and he sat down rather unexpectedly. Inaba was stronger than he looked, and a whole lot quicker.
Grinning, Inaba waited for MacGregor to get up again. The Japanese seemed to be enjoying this.
MacGregor shook his head to clear it. He got back on his feet and advanced on Inaba, more cautiously this time. He made the mistake of keeping his eyes on Inaba’s hands. He didn’t expect Inaba’s foot to suddenly come flying at him. The kick sent Big Mike sprawling.
Once again, he got to his feet. Once again, Sergeant Inaba was waiting for him. MacGregor didn’t plan on disappointing Inaba, but he decided to change his tactics.
He was at least a foot taller and fifty pounds heavier than Inaba, emaciated though he was. The ropy muscles that he had developed on the family ranch had never left him. Inaba had taken up his fighting stance again. This time, MacGregor kept his distance. With his long reach, he swatted Inaba’s hands away, leaving the man’s chin nicely exposed.
MacGregor swung his fist, putting all the frustration of the last few weeks into it. He struck Inaba a hammer blow squarely in the face, sending the man reeling.
“I’ve got to say, that has been a long time coming,” MacGregor said.
MacGregor raised his fists to hit the man again, but it wasn’t necessary. Staggering, Inaba had reached the edge of the roof. Trying to find his balance, he took one more step back — into thin air. His eyes went wide as he realized his mistake. And then Inaba fluttered his arms like a flightless bird and ever so slowly tipped over backward into nothingness.