1942

Once Jake saw the silhouette of a destroyer a few miles away and thought they’d had it, but luck was with them and the plane droned on undetected toward Hawaii. The trip from Oahu was not a long one, but it seemed to take forever for the dark shape of the Big Island to come into view.

There were no lakes or rivers on Hawaii where the big plane could land, so the pilot set her down in the gently rolling swells off Manuka Bay, near the southwest tip of the island.

Rafts were launched, and Jake and his little army paddled off toward the beach. Even before they were ashore, the plane taxied away and lifted off into the darkness. The people Jake was to rescue were miles away, and it would be too dangerous for the flying boat to wait. Jake’s orders said some other form of pickup would be arranged once he found the lost naval personnel, who were waiting patiently but well inland. He hoped they were well hidden. In case there was more than one group of navy people wandering around, Jake had been given a sign and a countersign, which he’d shared with Hawkins in case something happened to him.

After they waded the last few feet to the dry ground, they hid the rafts and Jake reviewed his resources. Counting himself, he had twelve men, along with food, ammunition, medical supplies, and radio equipment. He was effectively stranded in what was very likely going to become enemy-occupied territory, and considered himself a well-armed and modern Robinson Crusoe.

As they picked up their gear and headed inland, Jake could only wonder what on earth made this mission so important.

It amused Colonel Omori that the Americans would take such care to blindfold him. Under other circumstances, it would have been insulting and demeaning, but not now. Instead he thought it was a pathetic gesture. General Tadoyashi had sent a messenger under flag of truce to ask for a conference with General Short. Short had accepted, and Omori was the messenger.

To make the effort more meaningful and show the importance of his mission, Omori wore the insignia of a major general, one rank above his real rank of colonel, as the Japanese army did not have brigadier generals.

The blindfold was but a formality. With planes flying overhead with impunity, there was little the Japanese military didn’t know about the American situation. It was, however, interesting to hear the comments from the American military as he was passed through their lines. They foolishly and arrogantly presumed that he didn’t speak English. The insults he understood and expected. He would have been surprised if they hadn’t been said, and there was nothing he hadn’t heard before.

The overheard comments about food and ammunition intrigued him, as they confirmed that the Americans were having an awful time getting either commodity to the front lines. It appeared that, while there was enough ammo, there wasn’t much food. This was disturbing to him, because the Japanese army hadn’t brought all that much either. It was, however, a matter that could only be dealt with later.

Finally, he was shown to an underground bunker and his blindfold removed. He did not blink at the change in light as that would have shown weakness.

General Short and Colonel Phillips entered the room with a third man they identified as an interpreter. “We will not need one,” Omori said in English. “There will be no misunderstandings between us. What I have to say will be perfectly clear.”

The interpreter left. He would doubtless spread the word that the fucking little Jap spoke English and people should watch what they said. Omori knew he had thrown away a small advantage but felt it would help in speaking with Short, who looked nervous and had a tic in one eye, and Phillips, who simply looked exhausted. Both men appeared gaunt, and their uniforms fit them poorly.

“General Short,” Omori said firmly, “the purpose of this cease-fire is to permit you to save lives by surrendering. Your forces at Schofield have been destroyed, and we now hold the high ground overlooking Ewa and Barbers Point. Without sounding overly dramatic, your cause is doomed and further struggle will only result in needless deaths.”

Just the day before, Japanese infantry had streaked down the western side of Oahu on bicycles and achieved a foothold on the Waianae Range overlooking American positions. Under the protection of naval guns, the Japanese army had dragged howitzers up the heights and begun shelling down into Pearl Harbor’s defenses with devastating effect. Preoccupied as they were with the bulk of the Japanese army before them in the valley between the two ranges, the American army had been powerless to dislodge the Japanese.

Short lowered his eyes. “I am not authorized to surrender.”

“I understand,” Omori said gently. “You must notify your superiors in Washington. Do that. We will grant you a forty-eight-hour ceasefire. However, that cease-fire is conditional.”

“And what are the conditions?” Phillips asked.