1945

While he recognized the order as militarily essential, it was also irksome. Although depressed by what he saw as the inevitable outcome of the war, Hashimoto still had a warrior's lust to kill other warships, and while he definitely considered a carrier a warship, he did not extend that title to the fat and sluggish transports. He would have liked nothing more than to loose a spread of torpedoes at the several destroyers currently in his vision. He would sink them as he had the American cruiser Indianapolis. The Indianapolis had gone down with great loss of life, a fact that saddened him deeply.

He ordered down periscope and stepped away. It was almost dawn and it was no longer difficult to see the enemy ships. He did not dare have the periscope visible for more than a few seconds at a time in the daylight lest some eagle-eyed American lookout see its small ripples running contrary to the wind and the sea.

Lt. Sakuo Yokochi, his second-in-command, looked at him in dismay. "Still nothing, Captain?"

Hashimoto wanted to snap at the man for his foolish question, but merely glared at him until Yokochi turned away. It was so frustrating. There had to be a way through the wall of defenders. The American destroyers were like bees protecting the precious honey in a hive.

A distant rumbling sound rolled over the sub and rocked it, causing some of his men to gasp in surprise. Someone was being fired upon, and Hashimoto concluded that the target was probably one of the numerous midget submarines that were also trying to sink American ships. The Americans were alerted and it would now be a time of great peril for the I-58.

He was about to order the I-58 back down to the bottom when a thought struck him and he smiled. It was indeed a time of great peril, but might it not be a time of great opportunity as well?

"Up periscope," he ordered, and enjoyed seeing the dismay on Yokochi's face. Lieutenant Yokochi was a fool and the type of man who would never had made it to the rank of lieutenant had there not been so many casualties in the navy.

Hashimoto stared through the lens as additional explosions vibrated along the I-58's hull. Someone was getting heavily depth-charged. He felt a momentary twinge of regret for the agonies of his unknown countrymen, but he was more concerned by the possibility that this was his chance to penetrate the American destroyer screen.

He looked at the American destroyers and smiled. Like predators moving in for the kill, the warships were streaking away from the I-58. Two Fletcher-class destroyers positively raced past his view in their haste to join in the fun of the final attack. The result was a gap in their lines. It would only exist for a while, but it did exist at this moment.

"Ha!" he exulted, and ordered the still submerged I-58 toward the gap at flank speed. He ignored the sharp intake of breath from his officers, especially Yokochi. He ordered the periscope down and stood by it with his arms folded across his chest. If any of the American ships did detect him underneath the water with their sonar, the I-58 could be doomed.

Minutes of waiting stretched into eternity. The American line of warships had been only a couple of miles away. He calculated time and speed; they were right where the Americans had been. If his gamble was successful, they would now proceed without incident into the heart of the hive and steal the honey. Hashimoto decided he liked the analogy.

If they'd been detected, or if one of the American ships that had left station realized that a mistake had been made and returned to its place, then the I-58 would likely be located and destroyed.

Further minutes crept by and he willed himself to relax, but not show his surging emotions. The men of the I-58 must believe that their captain had everything under control at all times. Beside him, Yokochi had checked his watch and figured it out as well. He smiled timidly at his captain, who chose not to acknowledge it.

They were past the defenses. Now they were in the heart of the American fleet. It would be full daylight in a little while. Once again the I-58 would lie on the bottom and wait for darkness to return. This time, however, when night fell, the sub would be the hunter and not the hunted. This night Hashimoto would be the predator.

CHAPTER 35

THE USS AUGUSTA, SOUTH OF KYUSHU

Seaman Tim Jardine rubbed his burning eyes and leaned against the mount of the 40mm antiaircraft gun that was his battle station on the Augusta. He was supposed to be resting while others scanned the darkened sea and skies for signs of the Japanese. Everyone on board the nine-thousand-ton heavy cruiser was tired from days of being at their battle stations. It was so bad Tim wondered if they would be capable of fighting if a Jap plane did manage to find them. All he and the others really wanted was to go to sleep and the hell with the Japs.