Pacific Siege

22

The SEALs ran flat out from the temporary Russian prison toward the military headquarters four blocks away. Lam outran the rest of them.

The Russian military troops came along lagging to the rear.

Lam edged around the last building before he came to the headquarters, and spotted ten to twelve soldiers. They were behind the trucks and firing at the HQ front door and windows. Lam flipped down his NVG, and studied the dim greenish view.

“Twelve of them, Skipper,” Lam said. “Behind those trucks.”

“Use your EARS,” Murdock said to his lip mike. “No time to ration our shots. Grab a target and fire.”

Lam got off two shots before the last of the Japanese Ground Self Defense Force men crumpled to the ground unconscious.

“Dewitt, you guys okay in there?” Murdock asked on the Motorola.

“Have one wounded, but outside of that we’re alive. A patrol of some kind came back, and sensed something was wrong. They jabbered in Japanese, then opened fire.”

“We’ve got company for you, about forty Russians. You come out and we’ll let them go in.”

Murdock found the Russian major panting up to the trucks where the SEALs were cuffing the Japanese troops.

He frowned at Murdock. “You shoot them but don’t kill them. How do you do that?”

Ching translated.

“Major, it’s our little secret,” Murdock said. “We’re giving you back your headquarters. The only stipulation is that you don’t shoot any of the Japanese. These men are only unconscious. They’ll wake up in three to six hours and be thirsty as hell. Take care of them. You can put them in your old jail if you want to. We’re looking for the little general who started all this.”

When Ching translated, the major offered to send along troops.

Murdock accepted two men who knew the island, knew where the defense points were, and the outposts.

“The bay,” Lam said. “When we gonna check it out? Bet that little Nishikawa guy is down there.”

“The rifle fire up here will have alerted him that something is wrong,” Dewitt said. “You think he’s down there?”

“Best way is to go down and see,” Murdock said. “Who got wounded?”

“Washington. Took a round in the ankle. Looks broken. Doc is tending to it.”

Murdock went over to where Doc Ellsworth had splinted Washington’s right ankle and leg.

“He’s on the shelf for the rest of this one, Skip. Suggest he stay here with the Ruskies.”

“Hey, no way, man,” Washington protested.

Murdock punched him in the shoulder. “Your lucky day, Washington.

You can find some pens and paper and work on that novel you tell me you’re writing.”

Washington brightened. “Yeah, I could. Good idea.”

Some of the freed Russians ran into the headquarters building with shouts. Others grabbed the rifles of the unconscious Japanese.

Murdock turned to Lam. “Which way are those docks and the bay?”

Lam pointed, and the SEALs fell into their diamond formation and moved down the street. They found one walking sentry, and zapped him with an acoustic gun before he could get off a warning.

The bay was six blocks away, and Murdock and his men took it cautiously, working from cover to cover. They stopped when they had a good view of the small bay and the finger pier that extended out into deeper water.

The bay was only two hundred yards wide and about that long. A protective strip of land extended nearly to the mouth, giving the anchorage good protection. A dozen small fishing boats dotted the bay.

Murdock figured they were for crab fishing.

One warehouse stood at the shore end of the pier. It was dark and evidently closed. Murdock used his NVGs and spotted a machine-gun emplacement complete with sandbags halfway down the one-hundred-foot pier.

A military jeep was parked fifty yards from the far side of the bay, and Murdock could see a dozen men there gathered around the vehicle.

“Dewitt and Adams,” Murdock said on the Motorola. ” Take out the gun emplacement on the pier. We’re using the EARS. The rest of us, check out the jeep to the right. Let’s see how many of them we can put down. We’ll freelance on targets. Do it now.”

The whooshing of the acoustic guns came again and again. Men around the jeep went down. Murdock heard the jeep engine gun, and a moment later the small rig blasted away from the scene, making sharp turns and twists, then darting behind a nearby house and down a street out of sight.

Four more men tried to run away from the scene, but they were zapped by the EAR guns and put down. Ed and Adams had worked the machine-gun emplacement and cut down the two men on the gun.

“Cuff all the Japanese and throw their rifles into the bay,” Murdock said. “Then we have to find that damn little general. Holt, fire up the SATCOM on the TAC frequency and let’s talk to Home Base.”

A minute later Holt handed Murdock the mike.

“Home Base, this is SEAL.”

The reply came back quickly. “Go ahead, SEAL.”

“We’re on land, have control of the headquarters, and have released the Russian military. Have cautioned them not to shoot any Japanese, but that’s problematical. Searching for the general who was not at the HQ. We have Tomcat cover?”

“That’s affirmative, SEAL.”

“Can they watch for any headlight movement? It’s possible that the general learned of our move here and is cutting out for some fallback position.”

“Will have the Tomcats watching your end of the island, SEAL. How are the new rifles working?”

“Home Base, they work better than expected. Perfectly. So far no other weapons have been used.”

“That’s a Roger, SEAL. Stay in touch.”

Murdock tossed the handset to Holt. “Keep the TAC frequency open so we can receive. Now let’s get back to the headquarters. Where’s Douglas?”

The platoon’s top mechanic and driver jogged up to Murdock.

“You bellowed, Skipper?”

“Those trucks back at the HQ. Let’s go see if you can get that six-by running. It will make our moving around this rock a lot quicker.”

It took them ten minutes to get back to the military headquarters building. The Russians were in total control. Murdock sent Ching in to talk to the Russian major. He came out grinning and pleased to be free.

“Of course you can use the truck,” the major said through Ching’s translation. “We’re pleased that you came to our aid.”

Murdock put Douglas in the cab, and had the SEALs jump in the back of the canvas-topped truck. It held all of them easily.

Ching asked the Russian guide the major had sent with them where the closest outpost was. Ching listened.

“Skipper, the man says the outpost is about nine clicks to the north on the Pacific Coast side.”

“Ching, you and the Ruskie get in the cab and let’s get up there.

The general may be watching for us, but we’ll have to take that chance.

Do we still have that Russian walkie-talkie?” Ching said he had it.

“Turn it on and see if you can get in contact with the general.

Call him in Japanese.”

The truck ground away from the HQ, and the men settled down to a few moments’ relaxation.

“So far this has been a Sunday stroll through Central Park,” Jaybird said.

“I like it this way,” Horse Ronson said. “Let’s hope this is as hard as it gets.”

They were out of the tiny village then, on a dirt road leading close to the coast.

The SATCOM came to life.

“SEAL, this is Home Base.”

“Go, Home Base,” Holt said.

“Our night flyer reports one vehicle is on the road moving north out of the village.”

“Roger that, Home Base. That’s us SEALs in a six-by truck heading to an outpost. Any other traffic heading north?”

“Not exactly a freeway down there, SEAL. Night Fly reports you are the only one moving.”

“Can we get on his frequency, Home Base?”

“Go to TAC Two, that should do it. Home Base out.”

Holt switched the SATCOM set to TAC two.

“SEAL calling Night Fly.”

“Hey, ground-bound SEALS. This is Night Fly. I have one rig moving north.”

“That’s us in a six-by. Any other lights heading that way?”

“Not a one. I’ll keep watch.”

“Thanks, we’ll stay tuned.”

General Nishikawa had received a radio call five minutes after the first jeep was hit by enemy fire. One of his sentries had seen the attack by the camouflaged invaders. The frightened soldier had wept.

He’d said some new weapon had blasted his friends in the jeep, and they’d fallen to the ground apparently dead. There had been no sound of a rifle, no explosion, just a gentle hiss and then the men had gone down.

The general had been at the southernmost point of the island, around from the bay, and had reacted at once. He’d ordered his second in command to strengthen the force at the bay, set up a machine gun, and prepare for the invasion. He’d guessed that the commandos who had attacked had come to weaken his defenses before the main body invaded through the bay.

Again, the Russians had violated their own agreement to give him seven days. He figured the Russians would attack the HQ, so he didn’t return there. Instead he turned the lights off on his jeep and proceeded slowly out of town and north up the coast road. Soon he passed the first outpost. He had taken a six-by-six truck with him, and twenty men fully armed. They would be his personal guard. Now it looked like good planning.

He made one call on the walkie-talkie radio for all outposts to report. Only the three north of the city checked in. The one on the bay evidently had been captured.

Quickly he assessed his resources. He had his twenty men, all armed. He had the two vehicles. Not much of an army. The outposts would surely fall soon. But by that time he would be in his backup position. Only yesterday he had completed stocking the supplies in the hideout.

It was not totally impregnable, but it would be hard to take with regular troops. That part he had planned well. So much for his lofty dreams. At least he had brought to the world stage and the world press the plight of the thousands of Japanese who could not worship their ancestors. The injustice of the giveaway of the Kuril Islands chain and the inhumanity of uprooting thousands of Japanese and rushing them away from their ancestral homes had now become known throughout the world.

Perhaps he had made one small footnote in history. Thousands of Japanese would thank him for his efforts. He would have a small legacy to leave to the Japanese people whether he succeeded or not. The matter had to be addressed sometime, someday. Why not now? He wondered if he was far enough away from the village to turn on the trucks’ headlights.

They could go twice as fast with the lights on. He hesitated. Another few miles just to be safe.

In the captured six-by-six army truck on the coast road heading north, Ching turned up the volume on the walkie-talkie and listened again. It was the fucking Japanese general. If they could receive him, they could talk to him.

“Hey, Commander, listen to this.” Ching gave the set to Murdock, who hit the listen button. He looked up.

“Who is it?”

“The bastard Japanese general. If we can hear him, we can talk to him. Should I try?”

Murdock laughed and nodded. “Fucking right. Tell him we have control of his headquarters, have captured twenty-five of his men, and released the Russian prisoners. See what he says.”

Ching waited for the general to finish his transmission, then spoke in Japanese.

“General Nishikawa. This is the United States Navy force that has come to move you off this Russian island. We have captured your headquarters and released the Russian prisoners. Do you receive me, General?”

There was a pause. Ching shrugged and said it again. “Do you read me, General Nishikawa?”

Another short pause, then a tired voice answered. “Yes, I receive you. And I put a curse of a thousand years on you and your issue. You have disrupted the legitimate challenge of a whole people to be able to worship as they see fit, to sit at the graves of their ancestors and commune with them. Diplomats have taken this right away from us, and you and your kind are to blame as well for enforcing the diplomats’ shame.

“Yes, I hear you, but will the world hear the waiting and gnashing of teeth, the screams of our ancestors’ spirits as their sacred graves are desecrated, bulldozed away, razed and torn down so some Russian may raise a pod of peas?”

“General, it is time to come in, to submit to our control and end this whole military campaign,” Ching said. “That will allow you to continue to wage your civilian campaign, your political effort to have some of the islands restored to Japan so your ancestors may be once again consecrated and protected.” There was another pause as the truck rolled along the dirt roadway. “Could I ask if you are Japanese?” the general said.

“No, I am Chinese.”

The air was dead for some time.

“General, are you still with me?”

“Yes, I am here.”

“It is time for you to put down your arms, to order your men not to fire, and to come in to the village and surrender. There is no dishonor in ending a good fight with an honorable closure.”

“I will never surrender.”

“The lives of your men depend on your decision. Are you willing to see them slaughtered by overwhelming forces, just so you can have your last moment of glory?”

“Yes, more than willing. You may never find me.”

“We will find you. We have many ways. For instance, right now our surveillance planes are tracking your radio signal.”

“That is not true. I am not stupid. It would take triangulation by at least three receivers to locate my signal. You don’t have that.

But it was a good try.”

In the dead air time, Ching turned to Murdock and summarized what they had said, and the position of the general that he would never surrender, even if it meant the deaths of all of his men.

“Afraid of that,” Murdock said. “He’s on the Japanese warrior crusade. We’ll have to dig him out, wherever he lights. Try him again.”

“General Nishikawa. My commander understands your position. He wants to meet with you, face to face, and negotiate.” There was no response, only dead air.

Ching tried to contact the general again, but he had no answer.

“He’s probably turned his set off,” Ching said. Murdock looked ahead with his NVGs. “It was a good try. Do you have an evaluation of him?”

“I’d say he’s a typical Japanese warrior. He’ll go flat out for what he believes. I also got the impression that there’s something of the samurai in him. No idea how that might play out in a showdown.”

“That’s what we’ll have, it looks like. A showdown. The only trouble is, he’s been here longer than we have. He probably researched the place before he came. He might know of some places to hide out and defend that we don’t.”

The big truck rumbled on at twenty miles an hour on the rutty, pothole-filled road near the Pacific Ocean.

Five minutes later, Murdock heard his SATCOM radio speak.

“SEALS, this is Night Fly. Did you get that transmission from Home Base on TAC One?”

“Negative, Night Fly,” Ron Holt said.

“Home Base says they have radar showing a Russian hovercraft fast approaching the southern shore of your island somewhere north of the village. They assume it’s a Russian landing of troops, Marines or commandos.”

“We’ll switch to TAC One, Night Fly, thanks.” Holt turned the knobs.

“Home Base, this is SEAL.”

“Yes, SEAL. We have a possible landing by the Russians. We’ll give you an approximate site in tenths of a mile north of the village of Golovnino. It looks like they will be landing to the north.”

Murdock took the mike. “Understood, Home Base. This is Murdock.

Can the admiral talk to Admiral Rostow? We have the situation under control. There is no need for Russian troops.”

“Negative, Commander. We’ve tried twice to reach the admiral on the right frequency, but the Russians do not respond. We believe they’re mad about that hovercraft we shot up.”

“Roger that. Give us that landing spot as soon as possible. We’re about five miles north of the village. We’ll hold here for the landing location.”

“SEALS. You might want to reverse course. The hovercraft is past that position already. Estimate they are three miles from the village.”

“Will do, Home Base.” Murdock punched Douglas. “Turn it around and motor three miles back south and watch the surf for company.”

They rode back the way they had come. At the three-mile mark, they stopped and waited. “Turn off the motor,” Murdock said. They listened.

Lam heard it first.

“Something out there is making noise, Commander. Could be the damn Ruskies slipping into shore.”

“With a hovercraft you don’t sneak in anywhere,” Jaybird cracked.

Then they all heard it. The hovercraft was coming at the beach fast, and couldn’t be more than a quarter of a mile away.

“Put up a white flare,” Murdock said. “Then we’ll see how in hell we can meet these guys without both of us getting our asses shot off.”