chuckle. "We'll not only swipe a plane, but we'll also swipe all of
Sasebo's task force plans before we leave. And maybe even his samurai
sword. Now, there is something that would sure get the guy's goat. And
I don't mean perhaps!"
Freddy Farmer joined Dave in laughing, and then, suddenly, as their eyes
met both sobered in a flash. All that had happened to them, and the
terrific strain under which they were right then, was fast catching up
with them. It was causing them to become just a bit light-headed, to
talk through their hats, and--and, if they didn't call a halt, send them
haywire like a couple of babbling idiots. They saw that approaching
breaking point in each other's eyes. And it straightened them up, and
fast.
"Well, anyway, we got some of it off our chests," Dawson muttered, and
stared down at his red welt-marked wrists.
"Yes, quite," Freddy Farmer echoed absently. "And I fancy it helped a
little. But I wonder what, Dave?"
"And so do I, chum," Dawson sighed. "So do I!"
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
_Devil Eyes_
A good fifteen minutes of silence settled over the two battle-scarred
youths before it was broken. And when it was, it was not by either of
them. On the contrary, it was broken by a third party. By an unusually
tall, and well built Japanese Navy officer who opened the door of the
empty cabin and came striding inside. Both boys were startled by his
sudden approach, they were amazed by his huge size, and they also
noticed that he was unarmed save for the samurai sword hung at his belt.
But when they looked at his face, at his eyes, they both gulped
impulsively.
The newcomer's eyes were plenty Jap. They were also even more than that.
The first impression that came to Dave was that he was looking into a
pair of devil's eyes, if ever a pair existed. They were more black than
brown, and they had the sagging double upper lid that distinguishes a
Jap's eyes from those of a Chinese. But there was still something else
about them. A certain something that was in their depths. Call it all
the hideous cruelty in the world reflected there. Or call it the true
look of a born killer and savage. Or call it what you will. There was
something there that made Dawson catch his breath, and go hot and cold
all over. It was like looking down the muzzle of a rifle and watching
the finger crooked about the trigger tighten slowly. In the next split
second--
"Come with me, please!"
The words that fell from the Jap's lips were like rifle shots. Hardly
realizing that they were doing so, both youths sprang quickly up onto
their feet. The big Jap smiled broadly.
"Good," he said, and bobbed his close shaven head. "I can see that you
have learned a little of the lesson you should have learned a long time
ago. Come with me, and do not let there be any trouble, please."
As a warning gesture the big Jap patted the hilt of his samurai sword,
and then stepped aside and jerked his head in a silent order for Dawson
and Freddy Farmer to step by him and outside. They stepped out into a
fairly wide companionway, and as the Jap motioned for them to move off
to the right, they saw that the far end of the companionway opened up
into what was obviously one of the hangar decks of the carrier. They
could see Zeros and Nakajimas, and a couple of other types that they
could not make out at that distance.
They didn't have much time to study the parked planes they could see far
ahead, however. The big Jap soon ushered them into a much narrower
companionway off to the right, and then up a ladder. They came off the
top of the ladder onto the broad flat flight deck of the carrier. It
seemed covered from bow to stern with planes, with a narrow runway lane
down the middle. Gazing at it, Dawson couldn't help but think of what a
mess it would make if just a single plane taking off should skid to
either side and lock wings with the long rows of parked planes.
"Or just a couple of well placed incendiary bombs!" he murmured absently
to himself. "Boy! What a bonfire that would be!"
"Eh, Dave?" Freddy Farmer whispered at his elbow. "What was that?"
"Nothing, pal," Dawson sighed. "Just a little wishful thinking!"
At that moment the big Jap gave them a gentle push and nodded along the
flight deck in the direction of the flight bridge and ship control
turrets. The two youths obeyed at once, and as Dawson weaved his way in
and out among the parked planes, close cropped Jap heads seemed to pop
up from all sides and grin and leer at him. He paid them little
attention, however. He was more interested in getting a look at the rest
of the Jap force spread out over the surrounding waters. It was
difficult, however, because folded wings and parked fuselages kept
cutting off his line of view. He did sight the two other carriers for a
brief instant--and sort of wished he hadn't. A three-carrier task force
meant at least fifty other ships of different descriptions. And a
surprise force that size could cause a lot, an awful lot, of trouble if
it got the breaks. In fact, it might well change the entire course of
the war in the far flung Pacific.
Fortunately for Dawson, he wasn't allowed much time in which to brood
over that possibility. He and Farmer soon reached a point directly below
the flight bridge. There the big Jap ushered them through a door and
along a companionway, and up a couple of more deck ladders. Their little
"walk" finally terminated in the well appointed quarters of none other
than Admiral Suicide Sasebo himself. And the mad killer was there in the
flesh, too, flanked on both sides by his runt-sized staff officers and
aides. Short, overfed, bandy-legged and squint-eyed, the whole lot of
them. At first glance they looked like a bunch of cross-eyed street
urchins dressed up for a cops and robbers masquerade.
If Dawson were to have seen that same picture flash across the screen in
a movie theatre he would have fallen out of his seat with laughter. But
there was no laughter on his lips now. Not even in the back of his
thoughts. Not one single giggle, for each pair of those eyes fixed upon
him were not the eyes of a street urchin, but of an inhuman savage who
would gladly carve him to shreds for the sheer joy of it all. No, there
was no laughter in Dawson, or Freddy Farmer, as the big Jap pulled them
up to an abrupt halt. Truth to relate, there was only a lot of cold
fear, and twice as much worry.
Suddenly to Dave's tensed senses there came a sound akin to that of
somebody putting sheets of tin to a buzz saw blade. He jumped inwardly
and then realized that the ear-rasping sound was the Jap behind him
addressing his commanding officer in their native tongue. Impulsively he
looked at the row of Jap figures to make sure his guess as to which was
Admiral Sasebo was correct. And it was correct. The little runt in the
middle of the row, wearing fewer decorations than any of the others,
made movements with his head, as though somebody were working it with
strings from behind, and then made some reply in a soft sing-song note.
As the echo of the sounds he made died away, he looked at Dawson and
Farmer. And to their dumbfounded belief he smiled broadly, and executed
a slight bow.
"Welcome, Honorable Enemy Gentlemen," he said in fairly good English.
"It is a pleasure to have you aboard my ship. Be seated, please. I am
about to dismiss my officers. Then we will discuss your little problem."
The Jap Admiral bowed slightly again, then half turned and looked at the
officers on one side. He said a few words, bobbed his head, and then
turned to the officers on his other side and spoke to them. All of them
bowed way over, murmured something, and went single file outside. And
soon the cabin was empty save for the two boys, the Admiral, and the big
Jap officer.
With an effort Dawson tried to shake the cobwebs out of his brain, and
get himself on the alert. But it was like trying to wake himself up out
of the middle of a crazy, cockeyed dream. In fact, that's just exactly
what all this business seemed like. Like part of some dizzy dream in
which nobody acts his correct part. "Then we will discuss your little
problem." What was going on here, anyway? And, "Welcome, Honorable Enemy
Gentlemen!" Where did the guy get that welcome stuff? For fair, somebody
was just plain nuts. And Dawson was worried not a little that maybe he
was the one.
"Be seated, Honorable Enemy Gentlemen, please. We have plenty of time.
And in war it is a good thing to relax and be comfortable whenever one
gets the chance. Yes, in those chairs behind you, please."
If Dawson and Farmer had been under a complete hypnotic spell they
couldn't have obeyed more mechanically as they backed up until the chair
edge hit them behind the knees, and then sat down. And like a couple of
dazed puppets waiting to be moved around, they just sat there with eyes
fixed on the Jap Admiral. He seated himself, and stared at them for a
long time before he spoke.
"So you have very interesting news for me?" he suddenly said with a
rising inflection of voice. "Well, I am interested. So tell me all about
it, please?"
Dawson gulped slightly and tried desperately to bat his brains off the
merry-go-round on which they were riding, and get them to function
properly. If he ever was to play a game of wits, this was the time. But
at that precise moment he couldn't have spoken his own name correctly
for the life of him.
Freddy Farmer, however, rushed to his rescue. The English youth looked
the Jap Admiral straight in the eye, and shook his head.
"Too late, now," he said quietly. "Neither of us knows where our force
is now. It may still be up north off your Japanese coast, or perhaps it
is now steaming back to Pearl Harbor."
"That is too bad," the Jap said without a single change of expression.
"I was hoping that perhaps I could detach one or two of my destroyers to
go meet them and sink them."
Both boys got the full meaning of the "one or two destroyers" crack, but
both refused to rise to the bait. They simply shrugged and waited for
the Jap Navy big shot to take the lead again. They thought they saw a
faint flicker of anger cross his flat, shiny face, indicating that he
was a little annoyed. But that's all the sign he gave. He stared at them
each in turn for several more minutes, then seemed to fix his gaze on
Dawson's face.
"You say there are _five_ carriers?" he asked.
"Yes, five carriers and--" Dawson replied, and then stopped dead as the
walls of the room seem to come tumbling down around his ears.
He heard Freddy Farmer's startled gasp, and wished in that moment that
he possessed a gun so that he could shoot his brains out. Of all the
stupid, dumb fools, he took the prize. With his bare face hanging out he
had walked straight into the Jap Admiral's trap, and had been caught
cold. In short, the Jap had suddenly addressed him in _German_, and
without thinking, fathead that he was, he had started to reply in the
_same_ tongue.
"And you Americans boast of being so very, very clever!" the Jap Navy
big shot was now sneering at him. "Fools! Little children! You are all
soft, and eaten away in the brain. You are finished. Do you not realize
that?"
Dawson didn't say anything. He was mentally kicking himself too much to
bother about speaking words. And God knows he had spoken too many words
as it was--in the wrong tongue. Fathead of fatheads. Of course that Jap
pilot rat had reported the entire conversation aboard the U-boat. Had
mentioned, no doubt, that he and the Nazi had spoken in German so that
the two prisoners wouldn't understand. But they had understood
everything spoken. And now the Jap Admiral _knew_ that they had
understood. In short, he had only to add two and two to make a pretty
sure guess that they hadn't spoken a word of truth aboard the U-boat,
and had played dumb in an attempt to pick up information they might use
if they ever managed to escape. And, to put it another way, the Jap
Admiral had checkmated them cold when they had barely begun to sell him
a load of phoney goods.
"Yes, Japan's enemies are so cleverly foolish!" the slant-eyed one
continued amidst hissing sounds. "However, you are here under my
watchful eye now. And no real damage has been done. So we will forget
all else that has been said, and start over again."
The Jap stopped suddenly, and leaned forward a little over the desk at
which he had seated himself.
"You were shot down after having flown from an American carrier," he
said. "Now, what was the name of that carrier?"
"The Tokyo Express," Dawson replied quickly. "And the first stop is
Tokyo, too, believe it or not."
The faint attempt to wisecrack was completely lost on the flat-faced
Jap. Which was of course to be expected, for included in the countless
things that the Japanese people do not possess is a sense of humor. Even
a joke that would send an Englishman into fits of laughter would sail
right over a Jap's thick-boned head. So the Admiral simply wagged his
head from side to side gravely, and made a little shaking motion with
the index finger of his right hand.
"That is not the truth," he said in his soft sing-song voice. "The name
of your carrier was either the Carson, or the Hawk. They were both in a
task force sighted two days ago. You come from one of those carriers, so
it is proved that that force has moved up into waters considerably north
of where it was two days ago."
"That's what we've been saying," Freddy Farmer shot at him. "The Carson,
the Hawk, and you can guess how many _other_ carriers. But much, _much_
farther north than you suspect."
The Jap started to wag his head again gravely, but at that instant an
inspiration which might enable him to regain a little of the beans he
had spilled clicked in Dawson's brain. He held up a hand to check
whatever the Jap Admiral was about to say.
"Just a minute, Admiral Sasebo!" he cried out. "Think what you like, but
do some _thinking_. The war for my pal and me is all over. Ten to one
we'll never leave this ship alive. And how! The whole darn world knows
what you Japs _do_ to pilots you capture. Okay! We took our chances,
and we lost. So all that's left is the chance to rub it into you a bit,
because you're headed for a loss, too, see? Think I'm kidding. All
right, then, get _this_! Get hold of that double-crossing flying ape of
yours who shot us down, and ask him--_what direction was our plane
flying when he shot us down!_ Go ahead, ask him that, and he'll tell you
_south!_ And if he had his eyes open he probably saw us dump our gas
hoping that the empty tank would keep us afloat longer. But it was
punctured, so the plane sank in a hurry. But here's the point. Ask him
about how much gas he saw us dump to empty the tank. If he can't tell
you, _I can_. It was practically _a full tank!_ So figure it out,
Admiral, figure it out. We were flying south with practically a full
tank. Flying _back_ to our carrier? Not a chance! We were scouting out
from our carrier trying to find out if your force, this force right
here, was _trailing us up north!_"
Dawson emphasized his words with a violent nod of his head. And then he
added just one more word jab for good measure.
"Okay. Throw us to the sharks. We're all washed up. But at least we've
had the satisfaction of having the horse laugh on _you_. And what a
horse laugh, as you'll soon find out!"
As Dawson got the last off his lips he instinctively steeled himself
and waited for the Jap Admiral to start screaming his head off. However,
if he expected the Nippon killer to fly into a tantrum he was doomed to
disappointment. Suicide Sasebo simply stared at him expressionlessly for
a long, long time. Then he spoke in his native tongue, but his words
were addressed to the big Jap standing just in back of the two air aces.
Yet he held them with his eyes all the time he spoke.
A few moments of silence followed his words, and then the big Jap spoke.
A flicker of light, or something, seemed to pass across the Admiral's
face. And then he spoke for the second time. The big Jap made hissing
sounds, bowed low, and then took hold of Dawson's arm and Freddy
Farmer's arm with fingers of steel, and turned them around and led them
out into the companionway.
Bewilderment and a faint sense of uneasiness welled up in Dawson, for he
had no idea what the two Japs had spoken to each other. And if only he
_did_ know! It would save so much for Freddy Farmer and himself. The
first time Sasebo spoke he had ordered the big one to take the two
prisoners down onto the flight deck, shoot them, and toss their bodies
over the side. But he had only spoken thus to see if either of the
prisoners understood Japanese. And when he realized that they did not,
and the big Jap had made a polite suggestion, he had agreed at once,
given the necessary instructions, and then ordered the two air aces to
be taken away.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
_Missing in Action_
With the measured steps of a man deep in thought, and very much worried,
Colonel Welsh, Chief of Combined U. S. Intelligence, paced up and down
the full length of the Carrier Carson's flight deck. He walked as a man
who cared not where he was headed, because he knew that he would find
nothing when he arrived there. Pilots and plane crews lounging in the
crash nets that stretched the full length of the flight deck on both
sides stopped talking as he passed, looked at him, gave a little shake
of their heads, and murmured inaudible words of sympathy.
Suddenly the alarm system announced the approach of aircraft, the
Carson's aircraft. Colonel Welsh stiffened in a halt, lifted his head
and peered at the growing dots coming out of the sky to the north. Then
he wheeled quickly, ran across the flight deck and hurried up aloft to
the flight bridge. And there he came to a halt, gripping the bridge rail
hard with both hands, and straining his eyes at the oncoming planes.
"Too bad again, Colonel," Admiral Jackson spoke quietly in his ear.
"Those are the eight who went out on the last patrol. Here, look at them
through my glasses, if you wish."
"Thank you, sir," the Colonel replied in a low voice, and fixed the
glasses on the approaching planes.
A few moments later he lowered them from his eyes, and handed them back
to the Admiral without any word. He focussed his naked eyes on the
planes, and watched as they came up in line astern formation and circled
the Carson until the leader got the flag to come aboard. Then one by one
they slid down aboard to practically roll into the waiting hands of the
plane crews. But as each pilot passed the flight bridge he looked up at
Colonel Welsh, shook his head, and made a thumbs down gesture. And when
the last pilot to come aboard had done that, and rolled on down the
deck, Colonel Welsh gripped the flight bridge railing so hard his
knuckles showed white through the stretched skin. And he had to swallow
hard several times to stifle the groan of anguish that struggled for
expression.
"Let's have some coffee in my quarters, Colonel," the task force
commander said gently. "The executive can bring us the patrol report
there."
"Thank you, thank you very much, sir," Colonel Welsh mumbled, and
followed the other off the flight bridge.
When they were settled in the Admiral's quarters, and had been served
coffee, the Chief of Combined U. S. Intelligence glanced over at the
Navy officer with a faint apologetic smile.
"I'm afraid I'm not acting the good soldier very well, sir," he said. "I
hope you'll accept my apologies. But this is getting me where it hurts
the most."
"I quite understand, Colonel," the other said quietly. "It gets me, too,
to have pilots reported missing in action, whether I know them
personally or not. You just can't help feeling it deep."
"And those two I knew so well!" Colonel Welsh breathed sadly. "I
couldn't know them any better if they were my own sons. And in a way I'm
directly responsible for whatever has happened to them. I was the one
who assigned them to this carrier. As I told you, they had just
completed a very dangerous mission in China. They had postponed leave to
carry out the mission for me. And if any two in this war rate leave,
they certainly do. But--well, it struck me I needed them badly on this
job. They both have all what it takes, and--well, they performed more
than one absolutely impossible miracle in the past. So I decided to
order them to take a hand in this job. And--"
As the colonel paused he couldn't stop the groan this time.
"And they are the only two that we have lost," he finally completed the
sentence. "If only I had an idea of what happened, I don't think it
would be so bad. Death comes swiftly and suddenly in this war, so we
constantly have to steel ourselves on that subject. If they were killed
in action, then that's something different. But just plain missing--and
when no other pilot has reported a blessed thing. Well, that is the part
so hard to take. But forgive me for rambling like this, sir."
"Think nothing of it, Colonel," the Admiral said, and added a drop more
of cream to his coffee. "Frankly, I've been giving the puzzle more than
a little thought. For two days, now, we've combed every square mile of
this area, and no pilot has seen a trace or sign of anything. Not so
much as a thread of smoke on the horizon. It has me worried, Colonel."
The Chief of Combined U. S. Intelligence stuck out his lower lip and
gave a little half twist of his head.
"I'm very much worried, too, sir," he said. "If that reported Jap force
is in these waters, it must be at the bottom of them. It certainly isn't
in the area we've scouted. And that fact is what gives me cause for
thought. A lot of thought. Technically, this area we're patrolling is
Japanese-controlled. And yet, not a single Jap surface ship, submarine,
or plane has shown its face. And I'm afraid, sir, the answer is that
confounded Kawanishi flying boat that we shot down the other evening. It
stands to reason that they must have sent out a radio report to their
base before Dawson and Farmer nailed them."
"I'm afraid you're right about that, Colonel," the Admiral agreed with a
nod. Then, as his brows furrowed in a frown, "But we were just off New
Caledonia then, and headed east. We changed the course to north after
darkness had fallen. And I'm positive we weren't detected during the
night, nor have we been spotted since."
"But, unfortunately, the Japs are no fools," Colonel Welsh said grimly.
"They are mighty clever, and have a way of accurately figuring things
out for themselves. And they probably started adding things up when
their patrol planes spotted no sign of us the next morning. It's
possible that they outguessed us and sent word to the commander of this
Jap force we're trying to hunt down. And he took measures to make sure
that we wouldn't find him. He may have changed his course and moved far
over to the west."
"If he did," the Admiral grunted, and rubbed one clenched fist on the
arm of his chair, "then we won't find him before the attack on
Guadalcanal gets started at dawn tomorrow. Even at top speed we couldn't
get over to where he may be that soon. And, of course, it's only a guess
that the force is over there. Also, it would be too risky. He might
swing back along the northern New Guinea coast, and slip down past Lae.
Or he may force his ships and cut around the western end of New Guinea,
and strike at Australia from the north. However, if the Jap commander
figures that we _are_ up here looking for him, he'll undoubtedly take
the double back route. That will get him to Lae by dawn. And when he
gets there he is bound to get wind of our doings against Guadalcanal.
Any way you look at it, we're in a bad spot. And that is not saying a
thing about our forces taking part in the Guadalcanal business."
Colonel Welsh nodded soberly, but for a long moment he didn't say
anything. He sat with his head slightly bent and his eyes fixed
unwinkingly on the half filled cup of coffee he held in his hands.
Presently he sighed, gave a little shake of his head, and looked up at
the task force commander.
"Yes, you're dead right, sir, in everything you say," he spoke in a
weary voice. "So I'll step to one side, sir, and let you have charge of
things from here on. I thought sure we would catch that Jap force as a
result of this search, but--well, Intelligence has been wrong before. No
use weeping over it. We just didn't click this time. So go ahead, sir,
and issue the order to abandon the search."