Code Name: Infamy (Aviator Book 4) (20 page)

“Spike!”

17:31 Local, 15 August, 1945 (12:31 GMT, 15AUG)

USS Suwannee, Mediterranean Sea

Ready six was packed with aviators watching an actual new release movie from Hollywood. Suwannee’s skipper had traded ice cream to a destroyer’s commanding officer for it, his crew had picked it up in Australia. Suddenly there was a loud banging on the door, startling all hands. It swung open, and the ship’s XO, escorted by two large marines carrying a red cruise box, marched in. Stutz called attention on deck as the squadron duty officer fought to turn the movie off. Kid reached over and selected the switch to off and whispered into the ensign’s ear to turn on the lights.

“Gentlemen,” the XO’s voice boomed out, “compliments of the Skipper.” He nodded to the cruise box, and the marines set it on the deck and then opened it ceremoniously. They pulled out a case of rum and set it on the deck. Every aviator in the room watched, attention riveted on the XO.

“The commanding officer of USS Suwannee orders that no one fall overboard. The rum is yours, gentlemen. As of thirty minutes ago, Imperial Japan surrendered unconditionally.”

Erupting into a cheer that could be heard bow to stern, the aviators tore into the rum. Kid and Stutz stared at each other, both men stunned into silence. Three years they had flown together, fought together, lived together as brothers in arms and friends—a short period in their lives, an eternity in experience. Kid reached into the case and pulled out a bottle. He opened it, took a long pull and handed it to Stutz, who took a drink and tipped the bottle toward Kid in salute.

“Congratulations. We survived.”

22:00 Local, 15 August, 1945 (13:00 GMT, 15AUG)

Pacific Ocean

After listening to the speech, Spike had Stoney open the sealed envelope that contained a route and precise time line to fly. Destination: Yokosuka Naval District, Tokyo, Japan. Hass-man flew up the mouth of Tokyo Bay and turned toward Yokosuka. Stoney had the radar tilted down so the green outline of the shore was very apparent on the screen. At 24:00, Stoney tuned a frequency from the navigation kit Spike had provided. The ADF needle swung to the nose of the aircraft, pointing the way to the air field at Yokosuka.

“There should be an airfield on the nose, Boss. We are five minutes out.” Runway lights suddenly came on in the distance, and Hass-man dropped the landing gear and flaps, slowing to approach speed. “Stay on course; there are a lot of hills.”

“Roger that, Stoney. Man, this is creepy.” Dreading it, Hass-man landed on an enemy airfield in the enemy’s capital. Turning off the runway, he taxied very slowly toward a lit ramp. Bringing the Black Widow to a stop, he couldn’t bring himself to shut her down. The R-2800-65 engines churned at idle in an otherwise silent night. No bombers flew overhead, no triple-A spit in defiance, no sirens wailed. The engines coughed and then went silent.

“Well, gents, shall we?”

“You first, Spike,” Irish transmitted from the back.

They stepped out of the big fighter into the tense night. Japanese marines sprinted out of the shadows, rifles pointed at the invaders as bright flood lights flashed on, blinding the Americans. A curt order in Japanese cracked through the silence. Reluctantly, slowly, the marines lowered their rifles. Out of the black backdrop Prime Minister Suzuki stepped onto the fringe of the illuminated ramp. Spike addressed him in broken Japanese. Irish gave him a sideways glance. Spike returned a wink and then continued his attempt at Japanese. Irish was too nervous to be irritated.

“English would be better,” responded the prime minister.

“As you wish, Prime Minister.”

“You are OSS. Code Name Spike.”

“I am.” Spike bowed in acknowledgment.

“We have a complication.” Spike stiffened, hearing the concern in the prime minister’s voice.

02:08 Local, 16 August, 1945 (17:08 GMT, 15AUG)

Mount Fugi, Japan

Admiral Hiroshi and a company of Japanese marines slipped silently past the lodge that marked the halfway point on the ascent of Mount Fugi. They had been on the switch-back trail for hours. Hiroshi had hastily put together a backup plan. He and his elite company of marines had to be in position before daybreak to seize the radio station. It was imperative that infamy continue. Imperative that he warn Atsugi that a surrender order was imminent. Imperative that Atsugi ignore the order.

13:28 Local, 15 August, 1945 (18:28 GMT, 15AUG)

Victoria Strait, Northern Territories, Canada

A strobing fire alarm light silently announced danger to the entire ship. A ship-board fire was every sailor’s biggest fear, and Captain Tsukuba was instantly on the phone to the engine room. Hanging up, he ordered the ship to periscope height as Atsugi and Wolf entered the bridge.

“Captain, we cannot surface and give away our position. It is daylight.” Atsugi said.

“Lieutenant Commander Atsugi, if we do not surface we could lose the ship. Toxic fumes from an electrical fire have filled the engine room. They must be vented.” With that he gave the order to periscope height and also deployed the snorkeling system to vent the smoke and fumes. A call from the communication center came ten minutes later, a priority message for Atsugi. He left the bridge and made his way aft. Once in the comm center he read the message from Admiral Hiroshi.

JAPAN HAS CAPITULATED. TWO NUCLEAR BOMBS EXPLODED ON CITIES OF HIROSHIMA AND NAGASAKI. EASTERN INFAMY IS THE ONLY DIVINE WIND THAT WILL BLOW. WEAPONS MUST BE ON TARGET BY 2 SEPT. THAT IS OFFICIAL SURRENDER. WILL SEND CODED INTEL/UPDATES THIS FREQ ONLY. RUN SILENT AND AVENGE THE HOMELAND. HIROSHI SENDS.

Atsugi handed the message back to the petty officer. “Has anyone else seen this?” Afraid even to turn around, he spoke into his radio counsel.

“No, sir, only you.” His head exploded all over the radio equipment.

Atsugi jumped back, turning to see Wolf and a smoking Luger. Atsugi looked down on the body of the petty officer with detachment and was wiping the blood off his face when Tsukuba came through the hatch.

“So my crew is expendable at your whim?” he demanded, anger rising with each word.

“Captain Tsukuba, we are all expendable on this mission. The communication center is off limits to everyone except the general and me.”

Atsugi brushed past the captain and left Tsukuba staring after him.

03:42 Local, 16 August, 1945 (18:42 GMT, 15AUG)

Yokosuka Naval District, Tokyo Japan

Spike nonchalantly tapped a pencil on a glass ashtray as the other three Americans did their best to fill it to overflowing. They sat in an austere and now smoke-filled office with no windows and just one light fixture over a single table.

“Any other surprises for us tonight, Spike?” Irish lit another cigarette. Hass-man and Stoney looked up.

“I didn’t know you smoked, Stoney,” Spike said, ignoring Irish’s question.

“Just started.” Before anything else could be said, Prime Minister Suzuki entered the room.

“You mentioned a complication, Mister Prime Minister,” Spike said. He acknowledged with a bow as Suzuki’s aide, with hatred in his eyes, dropped four German uniforms on the table and left without making eye contact.

“It is better if I show you. You should probably wear these for now.” He motioned to the Nazi uniforms on the table.

Concealed by the darkness, the immensity of the covered sub pen was readily apparent when they were inside with the lights on. The awkward-looking group with ill-fitting uniforms walked deeper into the pen. Irish registered the surprise on Spike’s face as his eyes darted around the building, analyzing and cataloging the contents instantly. The German submarine with its captive crew lounging on the deck didn’t surprise him. It was the monstrous Japanese submarines that shocked him. He got close to one and examined its catapult from the pier, looking at the Seiran fighters parked on the pier with wings folded. Spike counted three I-400 class submarines and then walked up to an empty berthing. Prime Minister Suzuki joined him.

“Please tell me there are only three, Prime Minister.”

“There is another, and it has sortied.”

“Route and refueling points?”

“Known only to the crew.”

“Target?”

“Targets. Plural. New York City and Norfolk Naval Base.”

Spike leaned against a steel girder, heart pounding in his ears. He felt he’d aged a hundred years in a single instant. Irish walked up to him, wondering what was going on. Spike pinched the bridge of his nose and said nothing. Cognition sparked; he looked up at the two Seiran fighters and took a Geiger counter out of the rucksack Irish carried. Walking toward the Seiran fighters, it began to click, sensing radiation. As he walked closer, it increased in frequency, finally becoming a constant tone; its meter was pegged. Irish followed and finally demanded an answer.

“What the hell is going on?”

After a long pause, Spike spoke quietly and slowly.

“These submarines are submersible aircraft carriers, and these little gems,” he nodded at the aircraft, “increase their range and are loaded with Wolf’s nuclear weapons.” He looked at Irish. “The prime minister says there are four of these vessels.” Irish’s eyes widened. Spike continued. “The one not in its berth here will surface at an unknown time and unknown place with the sole mission of doing to New York and Norfolk what we just did to Hiroshima and Nagasaki.”

CHAPTER 25

08:00 Local, 16 August, 1945 (23:00 GMT, 15AUG)

USS Missouri, Tokyo Bay

Spike paced back and forth in admiral’s country waiting impatiently for Admiral Bull Halsey to appear. He had already sent flash messages to the Chief of Naval Operations and OSS Headquarters. He’d even sent a back channel message to C. R. Smith and had him hand carry it to President Truman. Experts in Alamogordo had responded that the mating of a nuclear bomb to an aircraft of that size was unlikely. When Spike responded he had not one, but two functional weapons, mated to Seiran aircraft capable of medium-range missions and submarines capable of not only transporting but launching them, Alamogordo didn’t have anything else to add.

Hans had landed an hour earlier and now watched nervously as Spike paced. Finally Halsey banged through the hatch, having come from operations where he’d observed film and stills of the nuclear destruction.

“My God Almighty! What has mankind wrought?”

“Hell’s fury, Admiral,” Spike said, stopping in his tracks in the far corner of the room, “and it is heading to New York as we speak.”

Halsey turned on a dime and walked right up to Spike. He stood toe-to-toe with the spy, looking him in the eyes for a three count and then spoke. “Okay, Major, you have my attention. Explain.”

Spike detailed everything—from capturing Hans to the mission in Germany to get the rest of the notable scientists to the chase from Germany to South America and then on to Tokyo, and then what they’d found in the sub pens at Yokosuka. He brought Hans into the conversation for the scientific details and then spread out a chart of the world with two plots on it. Halsey took it all in without a word. Once Spike was finished, he summed it up.

“So a submersible aircraft carrier with two flying nuclear weapons is headed for New York City and Norfolk. And we don’t know their position or route.”

Spike nodded but then added, “They have to have gone east around the tip of South America. West around Africa is longer, and there are no refueling stops. Also our fleet has pulled in tight around Japan, but the rest of the eastern and southern Pacific is wide open. We are all over the Indian Ocean and Malaysia.”

“Where do you think they stopped for fuel?”

“Truk.”

“We are on Truk, Major.”

“Yes, sir, but they have a sixteen-day head start.”

Halsey sat in a small metal desk chair and tossed the report on a table. “Any other little details like that last one?”

“Yes, Admiral. None of our assets knew of the existence of either the I-400 class submarines or the Seiran fighter. We are evaluating them now but currently know very little. These were high-level, top secret projects that apparently few in their naval or air force command knew about. And if the Japanese we’re interrogating knew, they are not talking.”

A loud knock interrupted the conversation. Halsey barked, “Enter!” and a chief appeared. He started to speak and then stopped, looking at the two strangers. “It’s okay, chief, they are read in to more than I am. Speak freely.”

“Admiral, I was asked to go through the surrender messages sent from Japan to their troops. Admiral Nimitz’s Staff was concerned there might be a Trojan horse somewhere; there were thousands to go through …”

“And?”

“I found a strange message that was sent repeatedly on an HF frequency. We only had a recording of it, so it was off to the side—”