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

a slightly different way. Even as Commander Jacobs was brought back to consciousness from the contents of a second pail, Isoro realized there was really nothing more they needed from the men.

"Let us go talk," Isoro said calmly to Yuta. "Thank you, Ensign Van Horn."

"Remember, you promised not to hurt me or my companions anymore," Van Horn said nervously, seeing the feral looks that several of the Japanese sailors were giving him.

"You have my word, Ensign Van Horn," Isoro replied.

"Do not do anything while we are gone," Yuta said in Japanese. "Do you understand?"

"Hai," the senior petty officer said. "We will only gag them, nothing more."

"See that is so," Yuta replied, motioning for Isoro to follow him towards the destroyer's nearby superstructure.

"You must signal the Akagi quickly," Isoro said, fear coursing through him as they stood in the aft turret's shadow. "The Americans will have a second wave ready by midday, and there are not nearly enough fighters remaining to deal with a second strike."

Yuta looked at him, realization starting to dawn.

"But how can there not be enough fighters?" he asked.

"Because they caught us by surprised," Isoro replied, then gestured at the Taiho and Shokaku's smoke plumes. "Two carriers are out of action."

"Three," Yuta said grimly.

"What?"

"Three," the destroyerman repeated, then pointed off to the Akigumo's starboard side. Isoro turned to follow his finger and felt a brief pain in his chest. The Soryu, with two of the Akigumo's fellows in attendance, was visible several thousand yards away. Now that he was focused on the carrier, Isoro could also smell the bunker oil that visibly trailed the vessel like a blood trail. Wordlessly, Yuta handed over his binoculars.

She's smoking heavily from her stacks. Isoro wordlessly scanned the vessel. But it looks like the smoke is mainly damage to the stacks, not the engine room on fire.

"Can she fly off any aircraft?" Yuta asked.

"There are men working on the holes in the flight deck," Isoro answered. "With her flight deck canted like that, even if the managed to repair the holes, Soryu will have trouble conducting flight operations."

"I imagine they'll have to counterflood," Yuta replied.

Isoro shrugged as he handed the binoculars back.

"I am not a damage control expert," Isoro said simply. "But if she cannot get off her aircraft and she cannot steam, she's as good as dead when the Americans return."

The sound of aircraft engines caused both men to turn and look skyward in alarm. Their fear was eased a moment later as they both realized the large gaggle of aircraft was heading east to west.

Looks like the three remaining carriers have launched their strike. It was a mixed blessing that the Americans caught the vessels that had already sent a strike south.

As he counted the aircraft, Isoro gave a grim nod.

"We launched everything," he said.

"Hmm?" Yuta asked, puzzled.

"We did not split our strike between the carriers as we normally do," Isoro said. "I suspect so we would have decks free to handle the strike we launched against the British."

Isoro could tell that the destroyer officer only partially understood what was being said. Both men turned as a runner came down from the bridge.

"Sir, the captain has ordered us to execute the prisoners," the petty officer said.

Isoro looked at the man in shock.

"I'll need the standard work party," Yuta said without missing a beat. "Please have Petty Officer Harikawa fetch me my sword."

Isoro looked from the petty officer to his friend.

"I gave the ensign my word we would not harm him or the group any further!" Isoro shouted, causing several nearby sailors to look at him. Yuta gave the men a withering look, and they immediately turned back to their work.

"You were serious?" Yuta asked, incredulous.

"Why wouldn't I be serious?" Isoro snapped. Yuta raised an eyebrow.

"He is a coward," Yuta replied. "You saw him, he was literally wetting himself rather than trying to resist. This is the man you would argue with the captain for?"

Isoro picked up the subtle warning in his friend's tone.

A captain is absolute master of his vessel during time of war.

Isoro was despondent at the thought. While it was not likely, it was entirely possible the Akigumo's skipper would have him killed alongside the Americans for having the temerity to question a direct order. Moreover, by the IJN's regulations and discipline, no one would question it.

The 'great' Isoro Honda's head split like a melon for some stupid Americans. No one would remember it was a question of honor.

A junior petty officer, one who Isoro could only assume was the aforementioned Harikawa, returned with a silk wrapped bundle. The man bowed deeply, extending his arms with the rolled package in hands while still casting his eyes downward. Yuta bowed slightly in return, then took the item and unwrapped it.

We are ritualizing murder! This is not the way of Bushido!

"Isoro-san, thank you for your help," Yuta said as he solemnly buckled the sword to his uniform. "You may go below."

How dare you? I will not be dismissed like some rating.

"I will not," Isoro replied firmly. "If you are going to murder a man who I have promised to protect, I may as well be looking at him when you do so."

The petty officer briefly glanced at Isoro, then back down at the deck. Yuta looked as if he was going to say something, then stopped. Impassive, he simply nodded, then began proceeding toward the Akigumo's stern. Isoro followed along behind, his chest growing tighter with every step.

The Americans were all on their knees, facing the destroyer's stern. Isoro felt the wind from the destroyer's passage blowing onto his back, but noted that a stiffening cross breeze was swirling the smoke drifting astern. Thunderheads were starting to form in the far distance. He also noted that the smoke from the Taiho's direction was starting to dissipate, indicating that vessel had finally succumbed to her wounds.

The weather is starting to muddle things again. Maybe the Americans won't find us so easily after all, now that Taiho has finally sank.

Bringing his eyes