1945

Sakei had chased off the religious occupants and installed Hirohito in the quarters of their senior priest. It was hardly palatial, but it was safe and secure. The buildings also kept most of his men out of sight while the others camped in a nearby grove and, to the extent possible, limited their movements to nighttime, when even the American predators slept.

As he started to walk the dirt path to the nearby village, Sakei was confident that American planes would not notice one man walking along one of the miserable excuses for roads that were so typical of Kyushu. He looked to his right and was dismayed by the sight of a score or so of his soldiers running in a single line across a field. It was probably a work group, and he made a mental note to find out who was in charge of them. He would give that unfortunate soul a harsh lesson in the virtues of staying out of sight during the day. Their officer probably thought it was safe to cut across the field since none of their hand-cranked sirens had gone off in a while, as they did several times each day to warn of American planes prowling the sky.

Sakei ignored the virtually omnipresent and high-flying bombers as they were off to bomb the cities and other major targets, but the swooping and darting fighters and dive-bombers were another matter. They were the ones that sniffed out the smaller targets and went after them like birds of prey after rodents in a field.

Sakei looked down the road and saw the man he wished to meet, Captain Onichi, the senior kempei officer in the area. In deference to the fuel shortage, the overweight captain rode a bicycle, with some difficulty, and a rare smile crossed Sakei's face. He had no love for the kempei, but the secret police, or "thought police," had their purpose. He could only wonder, however, just why the fat kempei captain wished to meet him under these private and discreet circumstances.

Before he could go farther, a dark shadow crossed over Sakei, and he heard the shriek of engines as the gust of air swirled dust around him. It was an American plane and it had passed just a few feet over his head.

He watched in horror as the work party scattered in blind panic with many of them heading for the presumed safety of the shrine buildings. Perhaps the plane hadn't seen them as it swept by, but then he remembered- the Americans never flew alone.

The second plane roared overhead with its guns spitting at the prey the first one had flushed. Rows of dirt exploded in the field, sending soldiers tumbling and flying, landing in bloody heaps. Within seconds, the first plane returned and it strafed the shrine, while the second sliced bloody ribbons in the grove where so many of his men were bivouacked. Sakei could only hope that his men had made it to the protection of the numerous slit trenches dug in the area.

In the grove, a soldier with more bravery than sense fired on the Yanks with a machine gun and drew the attention of a fighter, which silenced it with one savage burst of gunfire.

Sakei lay by the road as the planes made repeated passes in an arrogantly leisurely and lethal manner. For long minutes there would be relative silence, with only the distant whine of the planes' engines and the cries of the wounded to be heard. Then the screech of the fighters and the cacophonous chatter of machine guns as they sought targets became deafening. At least there were no bombs or rockets. The racks under the planes were empty. They had been dropped on targets elsewhere.

After a while, the planes bored of the game and flew off, or perhaps they were out of ammo. Sakei got to his feet and ran toward the priest's quarters. If Hirohito was dead, Sakei would have failed in his duty and the missing Crown Prince Akihito would be emperor. It could not be!

It wasn't. Sakei found Hirohito in the doorway to his quarters. He was covered with dirt and his glasses were askew, but he seemed unharmed, although obviously shaken. He heard from a noncom that the emperor, on hearing the attacking planes, had virtually flown into a trench to save himself. Sakei was pleased. Let the Son of Heaven know a soldier's fear.

Hirohito dusted himself off and acknowledged Sakei's existence. "Ah, Colonel, another Japanese victory, is it not? Very soon the Yanks will run out of bullets and surrender, won't they? After all, that is Anami's plan, isn't it?"

Sakei bowed respectfully and ignored the sarcasm. This time Hirohito was right. Japan had no roof to deflect the rain of American bombs and bullets. "I am glad you are unharmed."

Hirohito straightened his glasses. "As you should be. What went wrong with your precautions, Colonel?"

Good question, Sakei thought. The obvious culprit was the ass who'd sent that group of soldiers across the field. If he wasn't already killed by the fighters, Sakei would have him shot. He felt only slightly shamed that the men in the field had broken and run. He wondered what he would have done had he seen a plane aiming its guns directly at him.