Fiends of the Rising Sun (25 page)

"That's crap and you know it!"

"That's what is going in my report, you slant-eyed SOB," Piper snarled. "Walton, put Maeda under arrest and escort him to the captain's office."

"Why? Pat says-"

Piper turned his pistol towards Walton. "I don't care what your yellow friend here says, I'm in charge now! Do what I tell you or else I'll have you brought up on charges as well. Is that clear enough for you?"

Walton stared at the end of the pistol. Nobody had ever pointed a gun at him before and the experience was frightening. All his life Walton had been fighting a constant battle with his terrors, fearful that someone would discover he was a coward. The smallest thing could scare him: spiders, heights, even the dark. He startled too easily, making him an easy target for bullies like Paxton. Walton had thought that joining the marines would force him to confront his demons and help him overcome his fears. There was no place for cowards in the corps, the recruiting officer had said. Guess I'm the exception that proves the rule, Walton decided. He swallowed hard and took a step towards the sentry.

"Now come on, Piper, you're not gonna shoot me, are you? I'm on your side, remember? Besides, I only just got here, didn't I?" Walton asked. He was close enough to touch the pistol now. The frightened soldier reached out a hand and wrapped it around the handgun. "Why don't you give me that weapon and then we can talk about what happened sensibly, okay?" He slowly, delicately, slid the pistol out of Piper's trembling hands. "That's it, that's the way. No need for guns, we're all friends here, aren't we?"

Piper's hands fell to his sides while his head nodded a numb agreement.

"That's right," Walton agreed, pocketing the weapon. "Look, why don't you go back inside the gatehouse and call the medics? They should have been here by now, shouldn't they? You go and put a rocket up them. Go on."

Piper walked into the gatehouse, his face ashen, hands still trembling. After a few moments Walton heard his colleague talking to the base infirmary. Maeda came over and shook Walton by the hand. "Thank god you got here when you did, Walton. I honestly thought he was going to shoot me."

"How's Hicks?"

Maeda frowned. "Not so good. I put a cloth under his head to staunch the bleeding, but he's been unconscious since the accident." Maeda looked around, searching for any sign of an ambulance or medics approaching. "Why aren't they here yet? The sarge'll die unless he gets proper medical attention soon."

"What happened?"

"Pretty much what Piper said, but less exaggerated. Paxton was trying to talk his way off base without a pass when the sarge arrived. Paxton punched Hicks in the face and the sarge fell over, hitting his head on that step. He hasn't moved since." At last the wail of sirens could be heard, getting louder and closer. "Paxton made a run for it and Piper was going to shoot him."

"So you stopped him?"

Maeda shrugged, embarrassed. "I just gave him a nudge, put his aim off. It was nothing, really. Any of us would have done the same."

"I wouldn't," Walton replied. "Paxton struck someone of superior rank; he's got to be punished for that. If what happened next was an accident, he should have stayed to face the consequences-"

"That's what I told him," Maeda cut in.

"Running away makes him look more guilty, not less. Piper was within his rights to shoot." Walton undid the catch holding his sidearm in place and let his hand rest on the grip. "You shouldn't have intervened, Pat."

"I couldn't let Piper shoot Paxton!"

"That wasn't your decision to make. I'm going to have to place you under arrest, until all of this can be sorted out."

"What?"

Walton frowned. "Please, Pat, don't make this any harder than it is."

Maeda glanced over his shoulder at the road to Honolulu, the same road Paxton had used to flee. But he wasn't Paxton and he never would be. Sighing, Maeda turned back to Walton. "Fine, arrest me, but as least let me stay here until the medics arrive, so I can explain to them what happened."

To: Mrs Irma Paxton, San Diego, California.

Dear Momma,

I don't know how to tell you this so I'm just gonna write it down in a letter and decide whether or not to mail this to you later. I think I killed a man an hour ago. I won't go into the details - that'll be for my court martial to decide, if it comes to that - but I want you to know I didn't mean to kill him. His name was Lee Hicks and he was our sergeant major at the base on Oahu. He's been ragging on my buddy Pat for months and I decided to step in. It seemed the right thing to do at the time.

We got into a tussle, well, I guess you could call it that. Truth is, I punched him in the nose and he went down. He cracked his head something fierce on a concrete step and then there was blood everywhere. After that I ran. Didn't know where I was running to, just what I was running from. I guess if you could talk to me, you'd say I'm always running away from trouble: the trouble I caused at home, the trouble I caused with that officer's wife at San Diego. You name it, I've made a mess of it.

I thought the corps might be something I could get right for once, do some good, make a difference in the world. Everybody says war is coming. I figured that'd be my chance to redeem myself. Now I'm not even gonna get the chance to do that. I've screwed up again and this time I can't see any way around what I've done, no wriggling out of my responsibility on this one. I'm to blame and that's all there is to it, plain and simple.

I'm writing this on a park bench, outside the cathedral. It's a beautiful building, Momma; I think you sure would like it a lot. All of Oahu is beautiful. I was kinda hoping that one day I could bring you here and you could see it for yourself, but I guess that ain't gonna happen. Now I've got a choice to make. I'm gonna go inside the cathedral and make my confession, tell the priests what I've done and ask for absolution. Then no matter what else happens, I'll know I've got God's forgiveness. If He can forgive me, then maybe I can forgive myself. That's the first step.

After that I plan on getting blind drunk. I know, I know, you don't like me drinking and I guess you certainly don't want to read a letter from me telling you about my drinking. I know Daddy drank himself into an early grave and maybe I'll end up doing the same, but I'd like to think I've learnt a few things from his mistakes, just a few, mind. So, while I'm waiting for the MPs to come find me and drag my sorry butt back to face the music, I figure I might as well get myself good and liquored up. I ain't no great shakes at facing the music, never having done it before, and I certainly don't want to start while I'm sober.

Once I'm drunk, I'm going to ask a beautiful young woman called Kissy to marry me. She's got the prettiest eyes you ever did see, Momma, and a smile that makes your heart sing. I love her almost as much as I love you, and if she says yes to me, it'll make everything else that little bit easier to take. Wish me luck, Momma, because I think I'm gonna need it.

Well, I've run out of paper and I've still got so much I wanted to say - ain't that just typical? Still, I can tell you how much I love you, Momma, and how much I appreciate everything you done to try and bring me up right. I'm sorry to turn out such a disappointment to you, and I hope and pray that one day you'll forgive me.

Your loving son,

Benjamin.

SIX

Paxton was drunk and getting drunker by the minute. He'd been sitting at the bar in Tokyo Joe's for less than an hour, expecting the MPs to burst in any minute to drag his ass back to the navy yard. After that there would be questions, recriminations and accusations, with no doubt a court martial to follow, and, if Hicks died as a result of what had happened, the prospect of a long stretch in a military prison somewhere. Paxton figured that by the time he got out, he'd be too old to enjoy much of anything anymore. So he was downing drinks with alacrity, determined to savour his final minutes of freedom.

He'd been pleasantly surprised by how warm a welcome Kissy gave him when he arrived. Paxton talked a lot about his aspirations for the Oriental girl and how sweet she was on him, but he knew most of it was bravado. He hadn't been in the bar for weeks, giving her plenty of time to forget him and transfer any genuine affection she had to some other grunt with a fat wallet and an empty heart. Hell, he wouldn't have been surprised if Kissy hadn't remembered him at all. Instead he walked in to a hero's welcome from the beautiful young woman. She wrapped herself around him like a silk kimono, eager to feel the warmth and protection of his embrace. Eventually the new manager told her to get back to work serving the other customers.

So Paxton had taken up residence on one of the bar stools and ordered a row of drinks, all with tiny paper umbrellas. More than anything else, that was what he'd recall most about his sojourn in the Hawaiian Islands: paper umbrellas in drinks and the smell of hibiscus flowers, accompanied by the soft, soothing sounds of ukulele music and crashing waves. Never mind the humidity, the way your sweat made every shirt stick to your back in under a minute, or the constant threat of rainstorms and war. Oahu was a lush green tropical paradise and Paxton was sure as hell gonna miss it. He leaned over the bar and tugged on the manager's florid shirt. "I ain't seen you in here before, have I? What's your name, pal?"

The manager scowled at Paxton. "Nabuko Kimura... pal."

"What happened to Kissy's brother, 'Suzo?"

"Tetsuzo had to go back to Tokyo, family emergency."

"Is that right?" Paxton looked over his shoulder at Kissy. She smiled and gave him a little wave. "Funny, because Kissy doesn't seem upset about any family emergency that I can see, and she's 'Suzo's sister."

Kimura's eyes narrowed. "You know family well?"

Paxton turned back to the new manager. "Not really. I've always been kinda sweet on Kissy, but her brother didn't approve of us two."

"I'm not surprised."

"I figured if he was out of the way, I might have a chance with Kissy."

"All things are possible."

"You said a mouthful there, pal." Paxton pulled another dollar bill from his pocket and slapped it down on the bar. "Give me another of those drinks with the umbrellas, and have one for yourself out of the change."

"I prefer not to drink while I'm working," Kimura replied.

"Didn't anybody ever tell you the customer's always right?" Paxton slurred. "Go on, have a drink, one drink, it can't kill you."

The manager smiled. "Not me, but others might not be so fortunate."

"Suit yourself, Tojo."

Kimura's good humour faded. "My name is Nabuko Kimura, not Tojo."

"Whatever you say, pal!" Paxton picked up his drink and staggered over to where Kissy was wiping a table. A Japanese man was sitting there, his face sour as curdled coconut milk. Paxton ignored the customer to snake an arm around Kissy's comely waist. "Hey, doll, how's about you and me going back to your place for a private party? I hear your brother's away, so we shouldn't be disturbed. What d'you say, Kissy? Is it a date?"

She looked past him to the glowering figure behind the bar, terror in her eyes. "He told you what happened to Tetsuzo?"

Paxton nodded. "Said your brother's headed back to Tokyo, some kinda family emergency." He winked at her and nearly fell, his balance badly compromised by drinking so much alcohol in so little time. "So, you want to blow this pop stand and come with me? I can show you a good time, Kissy."

"I don't know. Kimura will be angry if I leave."

"That jerk? Don't worry about him. I'll protect you," Paxton promised.

"She does not want to go with you," the nearby customer said.

"Is that a fact, Jack?" the marine slurred.

"My name is Hitori, not Jack."

"I don't care if you're Emperor Hirohito," Paxton smirked. "The lady's with me and that's all you need to know."

Hitori stood up, his eyes ablaze with anger. "You dare use the name of a living god, you drunken dolt!"

"Hey, he may be a god to you, but he means nothing to me."

"You will pay for your blasphemy with your life," Hitori promised.

"Oh, yeah? And who's gonna make me pay, Tojo?"

"It will be my honour."

Paxton laughed. "You and whose army, pal?"

Kissy got between the two men, her face blanched white by fear. "Paxton, you drunk, you don't know what you saying-"

"I may be drunk but I don't need this jerk telling me what to do."

She leaned closer to him. "He can hurt you, Paxton. He can kill."

"So can I, darling - that's my job. I'm one lean, mean, killing machine. Hell, I've already laid out one man tonight, what difference is another gonna make, right? I'll be rotting in a cell from now on, might as well go out in a blaze of glory, know what I'm saying?"

"You said you would protect me," Kissy whispered, her voice trembling.

"Of course I will! Marines are the best trained fighters in the world."

Hitori hissed something at Kissy in Japanese. She looked at him and nodded her obedience before stepping aside. Once she was out of the way, Hitori moved closer to Paxton. "If you had any honour, you would apologise for abusing our emperor's name. If you do not, the consequences will be pain."

"I ain't apologising for nothing!" Paxton shouted. He twisted around to the sailors and soldiers at other tables nearby. "Did you hear that, boys? Our little, yellow friend here expects me to say sorry for just mentioning his emperor's damned name!" There were murmurs of dissent from the crowd inside Tokyo Joe's. Paxton nodded his agreement before turning back to face Hitori. "I ain't doing it, Tojo. You want to see some pain? I'll give you pain all right!"

Hitori's lips slid back into a snarl of hatred, revealing his vicious fangs.

"Sweet baby Jesus," Paxton whispered. A moment later he was flying through the air, propelled by a mighty punch in the chest delivered by Hitori. The drunken marine thudded heavily into the bar, splintering the bamboo cladding, before slumping to the floor. "What happened? What hit me?"

"I did," Hitori replied, his voice a savage growl of fury. He strode towards the stricken, helpless Paxton. "Prepare to meet your death!" But two marines attacked Hitori before he could reach his target, their size and strength enough to knock him over. Within moments three sailors had joined in, throwing themselves at the Japanese who dared attack a US marine. Hitori howled like a caged animal and smashed two of them away with a single blow. They staggered backwards, blood gushing from their wounds.