1942

“Organized resistance is over. The army is withdrawing, and our marines are garrisoning Oahu and the Hilo region of Hawaii. Some of the fuel depot is already repaired, and tankers are en route to begin stockpiling oil. When that occurs, Oahu will be a truly viable fortress.”

Tojo nodded. “You are aware that the first American food convoy is on its way. The kempetei will be on the alert to ensure that the Americans don’t try to sneak in spies or saboteurs.”

“I’m certain Colonel Omori will do an excellent job, Prime Minister. However, that does bring me to a point. It might appear that he is being overenthusiastic in his application of authority. A case in point might be that massacre of prisoners the Americans are screaming about.”

While the army had led the patrol, it had been the handful of kempetei operatives escorting them who had ordered that the Americans be dragged to death behind the truck.

“The Americans were outlaws,” Tojo said. “According to international law, they were subject to execution. However, I agree that a little more prudence was called for. I am also surprised that the Americans found out about it and so quickly. Any thoughts, Admiral?”

“Prime Minister, I said that organized resistance had ceased, but there still remain some incidences of disorganized resistance. The death of the prisoners might have been observed, and the information either radioed or telephoned to someone able to get it out of the islands. We have evidence that there are other stray American military personnel in the area, and the information may have come from them. If nothing else, this will definitely discourage any remaining Americans from surrendering, which could be unfortunate.”

Tojo concurred. He would discuss it with his army subordinates. “There are those who feel that such harsh actions may hasten the Americans to the conference table.”

“Have you seen any indication of that, Prime Minister?”

Tojo was surprised at the sarcasm in Yamamoto’s voice. “None yet, but it will come.”

The prime minister rose. The audience was over, but the admiral wanted the parting shot. “I hope it comes soon, Prime Minister. In a short while, the American fleet will be strong enough to confront us on even terms. In a while longer, we will be dreadfully outnumbered and facing the possibility of defeat.”

When Yamamoto left, Tojo sat alone in the room. He was close to despair. Why hadn’t the Americans asked for a truce, an end to the conflict? He felt totally inadequate. Events were running out of his control. He was like an engineer on an accelerating train whose brakes wouldn’t work. He had to prevent a crash.

However, he did not agree with Yamamoto about the kempetei’s actions being counterproductive. No, he felt that the screws could be tightened even more on the Americans in Hawaii.

Alexa knew that the Japanese colonel was mentally undressing her and ignored it. At least he was a little more subtle than his assistant, Lieutenant Goto, who had practically fucked her with his eyes as he admitted her to Omori’s office.

Goto’s hand had brushed her hip as she passed him in the doorway, and it was not an accident. She was glad that she had worn an older dress, one that came well below her knees and was baggy as a result of weight loss. Jake would have been proud of her. In her mind’s eye, she looked absolutely sexless.

“Be seated,” Omori said in only slightly accented English. “I am pleased that you could meet with me, Mrs. Sanderson. First, let me extend my condolences on the tragic loss of your husband.”

“You’re very kind.”

“You must be wondering why I requested the opportunity to talk with you, Mrs. Sanderson.”

Indeed she was. It had come as a request, but few were foolish enough to decline such a summons from the head of the kempetei.

Alexa thought it amusing that Omori made any implication that the meeting was voluntary. The “invitation” had come the day before and said that a car would pick her up.

The office was fairly small and sparsely furnished; a slightly ajar door led to what appeared to be sleeping quarters. She wondered if that was where Omori lived. She caught a glimpse of an Asian woman in the room and concluded she must be one of the prostitutes the Japanese were rumored to have brought with them.

Alexa smiled. “Before we get to that, may I ask you a question, Colonel?”

Omori was mildly surprised. “Certainly.”

“When will the schools reopen? I have almost forty students who haven’t been inside a classroom in several months, and this is not good for them. They should not be idle.”