1942

At only a few minutes past the target time, he heard the quiet rumblings of a well-tuned diesel engine. After a while they saw a small fishing boat coming close to the shore. With its shallow draft, the darkened craft eased up to within a few feet of the sandy beach.

They watched as the three-man crew guided someone out of the cabin and awkwardly down into the shallow water. The fishing boat’s crew was calm even though they had to know that a score of weapons were aimed at them.

“Your package can walk,” Hawkins muttered.

“I don’t know why, but I’m surprised,” Jake said.

The “package” stood in the waist-deep water while the boat backed away. It was then that they realized the person was blindfolded and wearing an awkward and too-large cap.

Finally, hat and blindfold were removed. Jake gasped when he saw the hair and realized it was a woman, and, as she waded slowly and awkwardly toward land, he knew exactly who she was.

“Alexa,” he said, and the sound of his voice startled her. “Over here.”

“Jake? Oh, God. Is it you, Jake?”

They met where the water was knee-deep. She almost fell into his arms, and he held her tightly. Some package, he thought. He squeezed her, and she returned the embrace with that fierce strength that once had astonished him.

Finally, she broke free and looked at him. In the night he could see sadness on her face and tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I survived, Jake,” she said, and her voice cracked with sobs. “I did what you said. I survived. I did whatever I had to, and now I’m here. I had no idea it would be so awful just to go on living.” With that, she sagged on his shoulder and allowed him to lead her inland as the rest of the column formed up around them.

The American seamen on the craggy and inhospitable island of Lanai had been fools, Charley Finch concluded. The idiots could have remained in hiding for all eternity. Living would have been uncomfortable and harsh, but it would have been better than what had happened to them and how it was likely to conclude.

The seven men had been marooned when their transport had been sunk off the coast in an attempt to flee to California. The fools had then started robbing the local people for food, and the civilians had reported them to the police. It had been only a matter of time before the kempetei picked up on the fact that Americans were running loose on Lanai and behaving like ordinary bandits.

Charley Finch’s job had been to make contact with them and pretend that he was an escapee from the camps on Oahu. He located them after only a couple of days, and they welcomed him with open arms, even allowing themselves to think that he was some kind of savior. Other than knives, they had no weapons, and, had he been part of a Jap patrol instead of a lone, unarmed American, they would have fled safely into the interior. As it was, they stayed put because he told them the area was clear. It had been a fairly simple matter to leave a trail that the kempetei could follow. Charley’s only real concern was that the Japanese might kill him by mistake.

That, it turned out, was not a problem. Colonel Omori had accompanied the combined kempetei and Japanese marine patrol, and the seven Americans had been taken into custody with barely a whimper. Now they stared at him in disbelief and horror. All had been beaten bloody in a brutal interrogation coordinated by Omori.

“I am satisfied,” the colonel concluded. “These poor creatures know absolutely nothing.”

No surprise, Charley thought. “What will you do with them, sir?”

Omori shrugged. “As I’ve told you, according to international law, they became outlaws by not surrendering.” He nodded to a kempetei sergeant, who drew a pistol, held it against the skull of one of the sailors, and casually blew his brains out. The others began to moan and cry out, but the sergeant moved quickly down the line, and all were dead within a few seconds.

“I believe that was fairly merciful, don’t you, Sergeant Finch?”

“Yes indeed, sir.”

“They are not worthy of our time and resources. I must admit, however, that you did an excellent job of finding them. We will return to Oahu and plan your next assignment.”

“May I ask what it might be?”

Omori smiled. “Lieutenant Goto has been on Hawaii for only a short while, but he has confirmed that there is a sizable American group operating in the interior. It will be a much more difficult assignment than this, but I am confident you can locate them and lead us to them.”

Charley did not share Omori’s enthusiasm. However, he was not in a position to argue. On a previous occasion, the colonel had reinforced the fact that, if Charley either balked or failed, he would be returned to the prison compound and the prisoners informed that he had been a Judas to them. Charley shuddered. The POWs would tear him to little bloody pieces. So, he thought grimly, he would do what he had to. But there was nothing wrong with making his situation more pleasant while he waited.

“May I ask a favor, Colonel?”