Hunter Sniper

He never got to complete the thought. Two figures materialized out of the darkness, rushing right at the wounded and the operating tent. At first it seemed as if two more volunteers had come to help the wounded. But then the shapes materialized into soldiers with rifles and bayonets, wearing Japanese uniforms. What light there was revealed faces twisted into savage expressions.

If they had wanted to, they could have had the drop on Deke, Philly, and Steele. But they did not attack. Instead, to Deke’s horror, the Japanese began using their bayonets to stab down at the wounded.

To make it even more confusing, the Japanese did not utter a sound, other than a grunt of exertion as one of them jammed his bayonet down. This was followed by the awful sound of the blade cutting into meat. The other Japanese soldier stabbed one of the unarmed volunteers who had rushed to intercept him, then turned his bayonet on the wounded.

What the hell? Those damn Japs sure as hell want to finish what they started.

Honcho was the first to react. His shotgun boomed, the powerful blast of the twelve gauge catching the nearest Japanese infiltrator in the chest and lifting him clear off his feet. Honcho racked in another shell and shot the man again before his body had even hit the ground. At close range, the deep boom sounded like a cannon going off. Flame stabbed out from the muzzle, searing into Deke’s vision.

Deke still managed to fire his rifle from the hip, hitting the second Japanese in the belly. The wounded attacker spun like a top, giving Deke time to work the bolt and raise the rifle to his shoulder so that he could deliver a second shot. Hit twice, the infiltrator went down and didn’t move.

A third Japanese soldier appeared like a wraith, stealthy and silent, his arm cocked back as he prepared to pitch a hand grenade into the canvas tent.

Steele dropped him with a shotgun blast. The enemy soldier must have fallen on top of the grenade, which exploded an instant later with a muffled whump.

The attack was over as quickly as it had begun. The whole medical team, along with the wounded, had come within seconds of being wiped out.

“Son of a bitch!” Philly shouted. “Where the hell did they come from?”

The three men kept their weapons leveled, but no more infiltrators appeared — at least not for the moment. The savage sneak attack had claimed two American lives — the wounded man and the volunteer who had been tending the wounded — both killed by bayonet.

All over Camp Downes, similar scenes were taking place. Japanese soldiers charged out of the darkness, wreaking havoc. The humid night air served as a cloak, muffling sound and hiding the attackers within its dark folds.

Mostly the enemy relied on their bayonets, a silent weapon that was both primitive and terrifying. Nobody wanted to get eighteen inches of steel rammed through their guts. Because the Japanese had opted not to use their machine guns or rifles, there was no warning and nothing to shoot at — not until the enemy was right on top of them.

A few infiltrators threw grenades into the foxholes, taking out whatever defenders sheltered there. Adding to the havoc was the fact that the infiltrators knew the ins and outs of Camp Downes all too well, having vacated the outpost only recently. The Japanese knew the paths that ran between the buildings, providing cover until they were right upon the Americans.

They also used the smallest shrubs for cover, creeping to within a few feet of the US sentries. Their war dog now played his part. Thor barked savagely, alerting the soldiers that they were not alone in the darkness. Egan strained to hold Thor’s leash. Meanwhile, M1 rifles cracked, putting an end to the infiltrators who had been trying to creep up on them unseen.

Other Japanese managed to slip around to the waterfront and surprise the defenders by coming at them from behind the lines, rather than from the direction of the forest, as expected. Seemingly piecemeal at first, it became clear that the infiltrators were coordinated and organized, doing far more damage than a full-on attack, which would have been mowed down by the defenders’ machine guns.

One thing for sure was that there wouldn’t be any sleep that night.

“I got to say, this is like battling bedbugs in a cheap hotel,” Philly said. “Soon as you squish one, you feel another one crawling on you.”

“Remind me not to travel anywhere with you,” Deke said. “Either that or stay in a better class of hotel.”

Doc Harmon had emerged from the operating tent to see what all the commotion was about. The night was punctuated by shouts and gunshots. “What the hell is going on out here?”

“Jap infiltrators, Doc,” Honcho explained. “I’m afraid that the sons of bitches got one of the wounded and one of our stretcher bearers.”