Against the Tide Imperial: The Struggle for Ceylon (The Usurper's War: An Alternative World War II B by James Young (story reading txt) 📕

rushing in to finish the job," Yamaguchi said, thinking of the intelligence dossiers he'd reviewed in the previous months. "He'd attack us without question, without respite, and Ozawa be damned."

Yamaguchi joined his hands, thinking through the geometry.

Having Nagumo-san go to England after the Treaty of Kent continues to pay dividends. Who could have thought that the Royal Navy’s evaluations of flag admirals would come in so handy? I wonder what mine said?

Pushing that thought from his head, Yamaguchi continued to mull over what he remembered about Fletcher. Suddenly it was so apparent to him what Vice Admiral Fletcher was attempting to carry out, and what had to be done to stop it.

I must make Kaku and the staff understand. Especially with our limited assets.

"Fletcher is a cautious, studious man," Yamaguchi began. "In some ways, he reminds me of Vice Admiral Nagumo."

That brought a chuckle from Kaku which stopped as soon as Yamaguchi looked at him.

"The difference is Fletcher's caution is probably based on his unfamiliarity with carrier operations," Yamaguchi said. "Unlike Nagumo, he will not dither and consider things over and over again. No, he will now await our strike while constantly glancing over his shoulder to make sure Ozawa is not going to surprise him."

There is only one way out of this trap if I want to save any portion of this force, Yamaguchi realized.

"Thus, we must give Fletcher a reason to be cautious, with or without Ozawa. Prepare to strike the force that the Soryu's torpedo bomber found."

"But sir, that means Fletcher will attack us again," Kaku said, aghast.

"We do not know where he is, and we are rapidly running out of aircraft," Yamaguchi snapped. "If we are able to damage his battleships while we still have the Kirishima and Hiei, he will break off pursuit."

Kaku considered arguing then thought better of it.

"Unless you can think of a way to figure out where the Americans are in the next thirty minutes, carry out my orders," Yamaguchi said.

Kaku looked over at his intelligence officer, then back to Yamaguchi.

"We may have something yet, sir," Kaku stated. "The destroyers have picked up several Americans from their rafts."

"Can you get me the information before the strikes are ready to launch?" Yamaguchi asked. Kaku and the intelligence officer looked at one another.

"Unlikely," Kaku said finally.

"Then begin spotting the attack against the battleship," Yamaguchi stated, his tone brooking no argument.

"Hai," Kaku said, bowing.

"Kaku-san, I want to find the carriers as much as you do," Yamaguchi stated. "However, two modern battleships and a British battlecruiser are a threat to annihilate this entire force. We must get Fletcher to slow down, if for no other reason than to make it easier for Ozawa to hit him."

8

A Diminished Riposte

Whether I float as a corpse under the waters,

Or sink beneath the grasses of the mountainside,

I willingly die for the Emperor

—Japanese Warrior Chant, 1932

Shuttle Bus #5

Oahu

1830 Local (0030 Eastern)

9 August (10 August)

"Patricia? Patricia Cobb?"

The feminine voice that called her from the back of the bus sounded familiar, but for the life of her Patricia could not place it.

Wonderful, someone else who probably thinks I'm an insufferable bitch.

Patricia forced her face into a study of politeness as she looked past the sailors at the short, brown-haired woman in a nurse's uniform. The sandy-haired doctor sitting next to her promptly stood, offering his seat. Patricia nodded appreciatively as the soldiers, sailors, Marines, and pair of civilians standing in the bus's center aisle parted like the Red Sea. She took a seat beside the woman, then noted the pair of sailors in front of them had stopped their conversation. The darker-haired of the duo seemed to be the most befuddled until his straw-haired companion elbowed him in the ribs.

Well at least the blonde one has some sense.

"Thank you, uh…" Patricia started, suddenly drawing a blank at the familiar woman's name. The nurse smiled.

"Jennifer," the woman replied. "Jennifer Zempel. I helped in your brother Eric's ward."

Patricia’s exhaled, embarrassed.

She was such a nice woman, I cannot believe I forgot her name!

"I'm so sorry," Patricia said, holding out her hand. "I feel as if it's been ages."

Jennifer shrugged with a smile.

"Well, I certainly feel as if I've been aging in dog years," the woman replied as the bus began pulling away from the station. For a moment, an expression of pain and grief passed over Jennifer’s visage. "At least we had our last patient leave the ward three weeks ago."

Patricia sensed the doctor shift beside her, then diplomatically clear his throat.

Oh you silly man. I'm pretty sure the Japanese are well aware that they haven't attacked Hawaii in five months.

That thought turned her mind to Charles and Eric's current location. Her eyes started to burn, and suddenly she was fighting against tears.

Goddammit, I feel so ridiculous.

"Are you all right?" Jennifer asked quietly, reaching into the handbag beside her before Patricia could reach into her own clutch purse.

"I'm fine," Patricia replied, taking the offered tissue. Jennifer gave her a skeptical look.

"Right," Jennifer said, her voice carrying much more than she probably realized. "I believe that as much as I believe the last woman who said it to me just thirty minutes ago."

Patricia thought the doctor accompanying Jennifer was going to have a stroke. Patricia looked up at him, smiling, and he quickly turned away.

"Captain Morrison doesn't like to talk about what we've gotten ordered to do," Jennifer whispered conspiratorially. "He's a bit of a prude. Probably that Catholic upbringing."

I'm going to regret asking this, I'm sure. But with a lead in like that…

"Just what exactly have you been ordered to do?" she asked slowly.

Jennifer made sure the two sailors in front of them were still locked in an animated conversation about the relative superiority of Flash Gordon vs. Buck Rodgers.

It's like the universe has set out to remind me of my siblings at every turn.

"We've been doing health and welfare checks on the working girls in the Vice District," Jennifer answered, her smile impish.

"What?" Patricia asked, aghast.

"You know, the 'Patriotutes?'" Jennifer clarified,