Code Name: Infamy (Aviator Book 4) (18 page)

07:45 Local, 1 July, 1945 (22:45 GMT, 30JUN)

Yokosuka Naval District, Tokyo Japan

Generalleutnant Wolfgang Walpot von Bassenheim sat across the conference table from Admiral Hiroshi and Lieutenant Commander Atsugi listening to the plan Atsugi laid out. His plan to hold two bombs in reserve had been overridden by Hiroshi. He explained the Americans must be slowed, for political reasons, first. Wolf was silent as Atsugi, who was in obvious pain, got to the time line. Then Wolf interrupted.

“A robust plan, Commander; however, Infamy must initiate sooner.”

Admiral Hiroshi, still amazed at the German’s perfect Japanese, raised a hand and then responded. “We have time; the mainland defense can hold out for many months—”

“We do not have time,” Wolf said emphatically. Hiroshi looked at his unpleasant ally with piercing eyes.

“Perhaps you will share with us why you are so sure.”

Wolf straightened the Knights Cross that hung around his neck. “Some months ago, the Allies successfully kidnapped one of my top scientists. They now have the benefit of knowledge from all of the research programs, including Chosin Korea. We received steady updates of all your work there.”

Admiral Hiroshi showed no outward emotion; however, he was shocked that the Chosin program had been penetrated.

“I have calculated that with the benefit of both of our programs, the Americans have not only developed a weapon but also the means to deliver it.” He nodded to Atsugi’s bandaged head. “Bombers roam the skies with impunity. Soon they will risk a nuclear weapon in order to force your surrender. Time is critical, Admiral Hiroshi. We can have two Seirans modified to carry our weapons within a month. I-404 has a much shorter route; they can leave at a later date.”

The admiral turned to Atsugi who nodded his concurrence.

“Then it is settled. We launch I-403 on 1 August. There are already whispers of surrender in the palace.”

06:48 Local, 1 July, 1945 (22:48 GMT, 30JUN)

Jesselton Field, Borneo

Major Jenji bounced to taxi speed and then fast-taxied into a revetment. His men swarmed the Zero, bowing and waving as if mere survival was a great victory. The irony saddened him, but he kept it to himself, always presenting the stoic commander to his men. But he knew the truth. He knew the war was lost. They would return in shame, having failed the emperor. Seppuku would be an honorable end; however, it was hardly feasible for the entire military to commit suicide.

No, they had to return to the mainland and fight the last battle. He struggled to get out of the little fighter. He felt much older than his thirty-two years. His men helped him out, still rejoicing until their cheers were suddenly drowned out by an air raid siren. A lone Hellcat slashed across the field toward the revetment, fire spitting from its wings as the men scattered. A long stream of tracers seemed to be sucked into the mouth of the revetment until it burped out the remains of the Zero. Kid Brennan flashed through the mushroom of orange and black, and, pulling thirty degrees nose up, executed a slow roll in homage and was gone.

Jenji returned a salute and then walked silently to the ready room.

07:52 Local, 1 July, 1945 (22:52 GMT, 30JUN)

Naha Field, Okinawa

Under the camouflaged net, the P-61 Black Widow appeared to be caught in its own web. Its sand bag revetment was a tight fit, even tighter for the C-46 next to it. First Lieutenant Stoneman sat on the tarmac, trying to cool off in the shade of the P-61’s wing. He brushed at the sand that had come through the perforated steel plating. Leaning back against the main landing gear tire, he closed his eyes.

“Why don’t you get some shut eye in the tent, Stoney?”

Stoney looked up at Hass-man.

“Too damn hot.” Hass-man nodded in agreement. “So what now, Skipper?”

“We wait for the end of the war.”

“Oh, is that all? Well then I will go cut us a castle out of the lava rock so we have a cool place to wait.”

“Funny, Lieutenant, but I suspect we won’t have time.”

“Really? What makes you think that?”

“The spy seems to think … no, he seems to know it will end very soon.”

06:53 Local, 1 July, 1945 (22:53 GMT, 30JUN)

Jesselton Field, Borneo

Kid zoom climbed his F6F-5 off the deck and out of small arms range. At the apex of his climb, he rolled toward the RTF heading. His flight controls did not feel right. Lateral control, his ailerons, felt like they were hanging up. As he was looking at his left aileron, an F6F-5 Hellcat elevated from beneath him, taking station on the damaged wing. Robbie smirked at him. Kid returned a smile and then pointed to his damaged wing and motioned for him to move away in case things got worse. Instead Robbie moved in to take a close look at the damage. Returning to a parade position, he flashed a thumbs down and pointed to the aileron.

Analyzing the position of the bullet hole in his wing, Kid figured it had hit an aileron hinge. Not good! He slowed to minimum cruise speed to reduce the stress on the damaged coupling. His immediate goal was getting feet wet. The U.S. Navy now owned the ocean as well as the air; if he could just get there he might survive. At his new speed, he was a sitting duck if any Zeros jumped him. He pointed to the ship’s direction and kissed off Robbie, but Robbie shook off the signal to return to fleet and instead took up a defensive weave position protecting Kid’s six.

Stepped up 1,000 feet, Robbie weaved back and forth behind Kid, ready for action. Kid looked over his shoulder at Robbie weaving behind him, and in the distance saw bombs exploding on the Japanese base. Twenty minutes later, he saw the rest of the strike package fly underneath him headed for the Suwannee. He watched as a division of Hellcats detached and climbed toward his stricken bird. They had obviously seen Kid struggling home with his lone protector. Kid felt a mixture of guilt and camaraderie as he watched them take position with Robbie. They could have scooted home and been safe; instead they committed to protecting him and hanging their collective butt in the breeze. Kid knew he would never feel closer to any group than these men, his squadron mates. Their shared experience, punctuated by the daily fight just to survive, could not be quantified.

Once past the protective picket of destroyers, the Hellcats sped ahead to recover first. Everyone knew the score, most of all Kid. Chances were he would crash and close the deck. His wing men had to get on deck first. But at least he was safe for now inside the fleet’s perimeter.

Imperial Japan’s once mighty naval aviation arm was no longer capable of even challenging this small fleet. Japan was drawing in tight to protect the home islands. No doubt the assets they had just destroyed were the only ones within a thousand miles. Stranded, the Japanese airmen behind them would have to sit the final battle out, waiting for news of the official surrender—an end that had already come for them.

Kid knew the end was near for Japan; he could feel it as well as see it. His opponent over Jesselton Field used to be the norm; now his skill was the exception. A buzzing in the control stick brought Kid back to his current situation. His goal in life had changed from vengeance to survival, and that was now in question.

Focus, get back in the game, he told himself. In the distance he saw the Suwannee. Already pointed into the wind, she was recovering his squadron mates. He carefully lined up on her wake and dropped to sixty feet above the water. The buzzing had changed to binding in his Hellcat’s control stick. Kid struggled against the binding until the stick froze. He was able to maintain line up with his rudders, so he continued the straight-in approach. Closing to a mile behind the ship, he dropped his gear and began to slowly, carefully, feed in flaps in increments. Wobbling only slightly, he was confident he could control the Hellcat all the way to touch down. He could clearly see the LSO’s arms now; they were straight out. He was looking good. Then, just as he crossed the ramp, the aileron broke loose. The Hellcat rolled. Kid got the wings back to level as he hit the deck, but he landed hard in the wires with a sideways yaw. The twisting effect was too much for the damaged bird, and the fuselage tore off just behind the cockpit. With the tail section pulling to a stop, the cockpit and wing continued into the barrier where it careened off the top and slammed into the Suwannee’s island.

CHAPTER 22

08:00 Local, 5 July, 1945 (22:00 GMT, 5JUL)

Yokosuka Naval District

Admiral Hiroshi sat in the Imperial Japanese Naval Headquarters waiting for Admiral Suzuki, the new prime minister of Japan. At seventy-seven years of age, he still commanded respect when he entered a room. Looking over and seeing Hiroshi, Suzuki advanced on his subordinate.

“Why do you waste my time, Hiroshi?” he demanded. “You should be preparing for invasion.”

Bowing deeply, Hiroshi begged for two minutes. Once inside his office, Suzuki spoke freely.

“It is over, Hiroshi, we are preparing for the best terms possible. That is all we can do. The emperor is ready to capitulate now. I advised against this war from the beginning, as you no doubt know—”

“We have our own nuclear weapons,” Hiroshi spat out in a rush. Suzuki’s eyes widened, then narrowed. Hiroshi read him instantly. “We only recently acquired them from a German refugee.”

“A refugee?”

“An SS general. Wehrmacht Scientific Corps.” Hiroshi leaned forward. “He has delivered us the means to blow a divine wind, a nuclear wind, across the Pacific to American shores.”

07:08 Local, 5 July, 1945 (22:08 GMT, 5JUL)

USS Suwannee

Kid jerked awake from his recurring nightmare to find himself in sickbay with an old man staring at him. He looked around, trying to remember how he’d gotten there. Finally it came back to him, and he focused on the old man. Then the stars on the man’s collar registered—it was the battle group commander.

“Quite a ride the other day, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir, sorry about the Hellcat.”

Laughing, the admiral waved it off. “There’s plenty more of those. I was going through your record for an award your command put you up for.” Kid pushed himself to a sitting position. “You’ve been through a lot, seen a lot for such a young man.”

Kid let his head lay back against the pillow, his stare distant. “Too much, sir,” he whispered.

Old enough to be his grandfather, the man patted Kid’s leg. “We are going to be out of the fight for a while, son. Suwannee is headed to the Suez and then Italy to load up some tanks for the invasion.”

Kid’s eyes opened wide. “How long, sir?”

“It’s going to take weeks. Plenty of time for you to get some rest.”

22:00 Local, 1 August, 1945 (13:00 GMT, 1AUG)

Tokyo Bay

I-403 slipped under the dark water of Tokyo Bay, stabilizing at snorkel depth as the crew lit off her diesels and revved them to full speed. In the navigation quarters, Atsugi, Wolf, and the ship’s captain were being briefed by the navigator.

“Five days until the Aleutian Islands, Captain-san.”

Atsugi nodded and dismissively waved him away. Nervously the navigator looked to his captain, who subtly nodded. The navigator bowed deeply and backed out of the room. Inside Captain Tsukuba’s safe were handwritten orders from Admiral Hiroshi, giving Atsugi de facto command of the ship.

Atsugi had changed, hardened. He was no longer a naval officer doing his duty. He was a man hell bent on revenge.

07:52 Local, 5 August, 1945 (22:52 GMT, 4AUG)

Naha Air Field, Okinawa

A sudden flame lit up the inside of the dark tent as Spike touched his Zippo to the communiqué. Made of flash paper, it consumed itself before hitting the sandy floor, leaving only a chemical smell hanging in the air as proof it had ever existed.

“Letter from home?” asked a sarcastic Irish with a wink to Hass-man.

“Something like that.” Spike smiled and then nodded at the tent opening. “Let’s go for a walk, boys.”

In silence, they walked through the tent city and then down a narrow path to the ocean. Waves crashed against the volcanic rock as the tide rushed in. Spike squatted near the surf’s edge and spoke softly. “Little Boy drops tomorrow on Hiroshima.”

“Why Hiroshima?” asked Irish.

“It has been untouched by the war.”

Irish raised an eyebrow.

Spike shrugged. “They want to show the full effect of the weapon.”

“So we go tomorrow?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t think the Japanese will surrender. One destroyed city is a rumor, an embellishment. Two is reality.”