17
The Siege
Chapter 17: Getaway Vehicle
By JagdPanther
Captain Vincent Surai looked over Arleigh after the medevac chopper had faded from view. "Jesus Christ, Riv. What the hell happened to you?" Arleigh was covered from head to toe in think soot, so thick on his face that the whites of his eyes were a terribly stark contrast. His fatigues were torn to shreds so badly that it was a wonder that they were still on him. Blood from his own injuries and wounds of others covered his body. His back and shoulders were covered in Ryker's blood, Smith's blood was on his arms, his own blood was on his legs, and some of Miller's and Johnson's blood stains were on his chest.
Looking himself over, Arleigh just managed, "Nothing in particular. I just haven't bathed in a few years." Then Arleigh noticed Surai's appearance. "Um, you're bleeding, Cap'n."
Surai checked his arm. "Yeah, I guess so. When the rescue forces were closing in the enemy tried moving up and we had to defend the halls. They managed to get people all the way up to the fourth floor in the stairs. I had to grab a rifle and beat some of them back. Just got a little flesh wound. Nothing much."
River just rolled his eyes and said, "Your arm's cut off," making a sly reference to the Monty Python movie.
"No it's not!" retorted Surai, laughing, getting it. "Okay, Lieutenant, lets keep the evacuations running."
"Roger that, sir." Arleigh and Surai began directing wounded to the remaining choppers. Rivera grabbed Smith, Carlson, Stevens, Ryker, and few other wounded and placed them in a group near the other MH-60. The stretcher with Anderson aboard was also in the group. "Okay, you guys are all going out together!" He stifled the protests from his Deltas. "Shaddap! I don't want to hear it! You're all going whether you like it or not. None of you are in any condition to fight no matter how much you tell me that you are! So can it and get on the goddamn chopper!" Arleigh forcefully shoved some of the Deltas aboard the idling Blackhawk. Anderson's unconscious form went on first and was secured. After him, the Delta walking wounded climbed aboard with three American casualties. "I'll make sure I police up all your weapons, don't worry." Delta Force personnel had custom weapons made for them and they got attached to the guns very easily.
The 160th SOAR crew wanted to get maximum evacuation capacity so they waited until two more Marines came out of the station to be evaced. All the men saluted Rivera before the chopper lifted off.
"Hey, you go get those bastards who did this, L-T!" shouted Ryker.
Smith jubilantly added, "Yeah, go get him while we go back and get to have good fun with the nurses back at the field hospital! Party time! Woohoo!" Laughing, Smith choked on some spit when Stevens slapped him in the back of the head.
Rivera smirked and replied, "Go ahead and slack off all you want, boys. You've earned it. See y'all back at base!" He saluted and backed away as the MH-60 lifted off, blowing dust and debris every which way. Just as before, it spun around 180 degrees and powered away with an escort of gunships. Rivera turned and began walking back to the station when Antonelli and Chavez caught up with him.
"Hey L-T! We've got no problem filling in for your D-Boys!" proclaimed Javier Chavez.
Arleigh laughed. "Yeah, in your dreams, Marine. Besides, where are your little Marine Corps pals, anyway? I only see Army personnel here." To confirm this, Arleigh spread his hands out, taking all the troops present into view. "Army 1, Marines 0. Hoo-ah!" A small explosion several hundred meters away signaled the arrival of the Marine Corps' 3rd Regiment. An M1A1 had just destroyed a technical trying to make a run for it. "Oh, look, the Marines are here."
Chavez sighed and shook off the Army-man's badgering. He saw Sergeant Adams being helped out to one of the waiting CH-47s and hailed him. "Hey Sarge! Hang in there! We'll get those jackasses!"
The Marine Sergeant shook his head in anger. "Damn right, Chavez! I have to go back to the friggin' rear! This is crap!"
"Adams! Marines on the road!" taunted Rivera. "Looks like they're a little late, eh? Suck it, Marine! Army wins!"
"With all due respect, shut up, Lieutenant!" Adams flipped Rivera the middle finger as he passed the Lieutenant, but kept a broad smile on his face. "Next time, you watch. Marines will save the day. Looks like they just let the Army earn its pay for once instead of the Marines having to bust their asses."
"Oh, I'm hurt, Sarge." Rivera stuck his tongue out at the Marine. "You lost, get over it." Arleigh patted him on the back. "Take care, man. You did great out there."
"Thanks, sir. " Wounds and all, Adams hobbled onto the CH-47 and took a seat on the side bench with a few other casualties while the crew continued to load wounded.
"Okay, guys. You're my two new additions to the team. If your commanders have anything to say, tell them to talk to me. First, meet up with the rest of my guys. You know who they are, right?"
"Sergeants, First Class Jones, Horner, McMichael, and Lewis," piped Antonelli. "Yeah, we know. Kind of hard to not know them after all they did around the station before we left on the LP, sir." Chavez nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, good. I'm going to go see if I can find all my guys' weapons in the basement. Meet them in the parking lot. I'll call them down on the Delta com now." Arleigh left the two troopers by the pseudo-Landing Zone and returned to the basement. By now, about half of the wounded and dead had been moved upstairs to be evacuated. Arleigh passed a few groups moving up and out as he called the Deltas down to the meeting point, and he continued down to collect the evacuated Deltas' weapons.
With the arrival of the 3rd Marines, the Americans began consolidating their positions. Soon they would start search-and-destroy missions targeting the remnants of the enemy force. Also, there would be the hunt for the leaders of the enemy. The JMDF Japanese-Maritime-Defense-Force and U.S. Navy ships were blockading the waterways in and around the Ward. American aircraft were doing constant fly-overs, searching for targets of opportunity to take out. Most of the enemy had gone to ground, meaning that they were hiding in buildings. It would take a building-to-building search to be rid of them all.
"Sir, you have got to be kidding me. Are we seriously picking up a Marine?" Jones' voice came over the Delta com as Rivera put another custom M4A1 on his shoulder. "No way."
"Delta Five-Four, get over it. In case you didn't notice, we're not exactly full strength right now, and these two proved to be extremely good fighters, so we're going to have them bolster our little clan. Just sit tight, I'll be right up there. Five-One out." Rivera finished policing up his men's custom weapons. The Delta's treasured their guns, and it would hurt worse than their wounds to lose them. He came up from the basement area just in time to see Surai and another Marine officer conversing heatedly about something. Hefting several extra weapons, Arleigh made his way over to them. "Hey Captain. Anything wrong?"
"Yeah, they're ordering me out, Riv," Surai quipped. He turned back to the Marine Lieutenant Colonel. "Sir, with all due respect, my men and I are not leaving until this job is done!"
"Captain, you have less than fifty men who aren't beyond walking wounded. You've been in this since yesterday morning. Get your men onto those choppers when they get here and go back to the base."
"But Colonel! We need all the men we can get, and these guys won't want to leave! I know it!"
Arleigh cut in. "Cap'n, you'd be really dumb not to take that offer. Let the fresh forces take care of everything."
"And who the hell are you?" questioned the Marine.
"First Lieutenant Arleigh Rivera, Army Delta Force, sir."
"Army, huh? Stay the hell out of this." Arleigh rolled his eyes as the Marine officer turned back to Surai. "Surai, just get on the choppers when they get here and make this easier for me."
"No, sir." Surai's continuing response was preempted by the arrival of another Marine officer. "Colonel Stout, sir!" Surai, Rivera, and the Marine Lieutenant Colonel turned to salute the Regimental commander.
"At ease, gentleman. What seems to be the problem here?"
The Lieutenant Colonel spoke up first. "Colonel, Captain Surai will not take his men from the combat zone. He says that they would prefer to fight, but he has less than fifty able-bodied men and most of them are walking wounded. I think that they should go back to base and let the fresh forces take care of things."
"And Captain, why don't you want to go?"
"Sir, my men and I prefer to stay here and fight. We are not going to go home until this is over. We have a mission, and we're going to see it to the end. I've got less than fifty men, but they all can and will fight."
Colonel Randy Stout smiled the Alpha Company, 1st Battalion officer. "Vince, I don't see what the problem is in keeping you and your guys here. If you want to fight and can, you can stay. We'll need all the people we can get to clear the Ward. Bob, call off the choppers to take them back."
"Yes, sir," replied the Lieutenant Colonel.
"Thank you, Colonel." Surai saluted and smiled as Stout walked away. "Thanks for backing me up there, Arleigh."
"Yeah, no problem. By the way, I'm stealing one of your guys. I want Chavez to help me and my few remaining Deltas. I need a gunner and he's good." Arleigh shifted his weight under the extra weapons.
"Take him. I can do with one less, I suppose. I've basically been demoted to a platoon leader now with all the casualties I took and evacuated." Surai sighed and leaned against the chipped and cracked wall the station. "I lost over a hundred KIA or WIA in less than 24 hours." He rubbed his face and shook his head limply.
"Hey, I've been there. You can't let it get you down, especially not while you're still in combat. There's time for that later. Right now you have to organize your remaining guys and get back to kicking ass."
"I guess so." Surai lifted his M-16A2 off of the ground and checked the magazine. "Yeah, work comes first. Someone has to pay for my guys and I have to make sure of it."
"Hell yes. Now, I have to go get my little rag-tag group together and see what we can do." Rivera turned and went around the front of the station. Marine tanks and Army Strykers were parked all over, some forming a defensive perimeter, while others getting ready to head out with infantry teams to clear the Ward of the remaining enemy presence. "Okay, guys, max out ammo and grenades from any supplies you can, get some food, get some water, go to the head, whatever you have to do to get ready. Meet me in the new TOC over there by the station entrance in an hour. I think I heard that the 1st of the 25th has boxes of MREs in some of their Stykers back along Miyamura Drive for the defenders. Eat up."
"Hey! Hey! What are you doing? This is the military section! All civilians have to wait! Either that or take them to a civilian hospital in the city. Priority goes to wounded military personnel, so get them out of here," yelled a Navy Corpsman at the field hospital that had been set up at the Tokyo Airport.
"That's too damn bad, Petty Officer," replied Mike Donches. "As per orders of on-scene commanders inside the Ward, you are going to treat them whether you like it or not." The Army Master Sergeant was making that part up, but it looked like it was working.
"What? Christ, don't they realize that we've got enough people to deal with? Okay, get them in here." The Corpsman turned and yelled back into the fray of medical personnel in the center for help with the stretchers. "Gunshot wound vics comin' in! Two females, civilians, early-mid twenties, massive blood loss. Move it!" The Corpsman took one end of Natsumi's stretcher and brought her into the emergency unit. He set her down on an open table that was doubling as a gurney for the moment inside the center. "Faint pulse, needs immediate blood transfusion. Damnit, we don't know what her blood type is, do we? Wonderful, get me a plasma IV for now, Dockerty, I need to go see if we have any Type-O left." No matter what a person's blood type, they can receive transfusions from Type-O blood, and that is why Type-O is called the Universal Donor.
Across the floor, Miyuki was set down on another table. A female Army medical technician was hovering over her with a pen-light. "She's still alive, barely! She isn't breathing, but her pupils are dilating! I need some help over here!" Another medic came over and slid an oxygen mask over Miyuki's face. "Hook her up, quick" yelled the female technician, as she grabbed a portable monitor from the shelf to her left. Along with the other medic, they hooked Miyuki up to the machine, which immediately began tracking a few vital functions. Miyuki's pulse was extremely faint. "Two GSWs to the shoulder," said the technician as she began removing Miyuki's flak jacket and cutting away her shirt. "She's going to need, wait, what?" The technician stopped short as she looked down at the other end of the table. Some blood trickled out from behind Miyuki's legs. "Jimmy, help me flip her over."
The two medical personnel grabbed Miyuki's side and lifted her up onto her left side. "Damnit! She's got shrapnel wounds to the legs, too!" The personnel at the station had missed it, but while Miyuki in the hall, before she had been picked up by the rescue squad; she had been hit in the legs by grenade fragments. Just after the technician finished her sentence, Miyuki's heart monitor flat lined. "Oh, Christ! She's flat lined!" The tech pushed herself up onto the table and prepared Miyuki for CPR. "Jimmy, breaths." Working in unison, the two techs worked furiously. "Seven… Eight… Nine…" The female tech pressed on Miyuki's chest while the male tech provided the two breaths. It took three full cycles, but Miyuki's pulse returned, faintly. "She needs surgery, now. Doctor! Doctor!"
A Delta Force Major with an operating gown on picked his way through the rows of tables and arrived at Miyuki's side. "What is it?"
"This one, sir. Civilian, female, early-mid twenties here on order of the commanders inside the city. She's got two gun-shot-wounds to the upper body and several shrapnel wounds to the back of the legs. She just flat-lined but we resuscitated her. We don't know what her blood type is. "
"All right, move her into Surgery 3. I'll go get them prepped."
"Yes, sir!" As the techs moved Miyuki into the Surgery part of the field hospital, they couldn't help but wonder who Miyuki and Natsumi were, and why they were placed on the priority level of the rest of the American soldiers who had been wounded.
"Okay, let's get down to business, shall we?" quipped the Delta Force Major as finished scrubbing up for the surgery.
Miyuki was in surgery for almost an hour. She had almost died three times right there on the operating table. By the time the surgery was over, the American medical personnel had removed ten pieces of shrapnel from Miyuki's legs and patched the four holes in her upper body from the bullets. A quick test had confirmed her blood type and they were now pumping Type A blood unto her system. She was wheeled out into a recovery area of the field hospital. There were plenty of other soldiers there. Some had minor wounds; others were hooked up to respirators and were awaiting transfer to a permanent military hospital. Natsumi was sleeping from the lack of energy associated with the blood loss when Miyuki's limp, but at least still alive, form was placed in the bed next to hers.
A few TVs were on stands around the recovery section inside the hangar. All of them were tuned into American news stations playing back footage and commentary on the battle raging inside Tokyo. American news stations had been covering the battle since very early in the morning, around 2 AM, the previous day and since then it was all anyone covered. American troops fighting and dying in a foreign city against a terrorist enemy? It was what every news reporter dreaming of covering. On one TV tuned into CNN, a camera had caught an F-15E on a strafing run a few kilometers away from the station. Several American soldiers cheered as an explosion blossomed in the picture.
But for these Americans, and these two Japanese women, now all anyone in the room could do was wait and see what unfolded next. For them, the battle was over.
Many hours had passed. It was late afternoon, the sun was lowering in the western sky, and the fighting was progressing slowly across the Ward. Street to street, building to building, American troops were clearing out the last remaining enemies while rescuing the last civilians who had been unable to flee the area before it was sealed off by the enemy's grip on the bridges. In a store two kilometers from the station, Arleigh was drinking from his canteen when the radio came alive.
"Delta Five-One, go ahead. Over." Arleigh nibbled at a cracker from the MRE he had had an hour earlier while he waited for the response. The Delta Force officer and his small rag-tag group had been fighting for a while alongside a platoon of soldiers from the 3rd Marines. They had already killed or captured about thirty enemies.
"Five-One, Command. One of the patrols captured a JSDF battalion commander and we just interrogated him. Rivera, I think you're going to want to hear this…"
Sergeant, First Class Earl Morris of the Army's Delta Force favored his broken hand as he huddled against the wall in the pitch-black room with another Delta, an Army PFC, and a Marine Lance Corporal. The four of them had been prisoners for almost 15 hours. It was cold inside the basement, but the four soldiers huddled together to use their body heat effectively.
Suddenly, the door opened at the top of the stairs and light spilled down into the room. Morris blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the new light. A JSDF sergeant descended the steps slowly and pointed at the four Americans. In English, he said, "On your feet, all of you. We're going."
Morris, despite his hands being tied behind his back, let Williams, the other Delta, use him as a prop so Williams could stand up. Morris then slowly got up and led the way upstairs. In the first floor room of the building, Morris noticed that JSDF personnel were quickly taking down maps and breaking down radio gear. 'They must be pulling back. That means that we're closing in on this place.' Straining to hear about the clatter of shoes, equipment, voices, and folding paper, Morris listened for gunfire or explosions, the tell-tale signs of battle. Try as he might, there was just too much clutter noise around him.
"Come with me," said the JSDF sergeant. He led the four Americans past the Japanese troops and terrorists gathering all the vital things they needed before they retreated. The sergeant led them out the back door and into a small yard with Colonel Nakatani and the terrorist leader standing there. "Sir, here are the prisoners." There was a JSDF staff vehicle with two guards on the side of the yard, pointed out to the road leading along the side of the building.
"Good." Nakatani turned to the terrorist leader. "Now, I will pull back to the secondary command post with a skeleton staff, you will remain here and form a line of resistance for the American forces moving through the Ward."
"First of all," replied the terrorist, "you don't tell me what to do. Second, I have to get what parts of the plan we have out of the Ward. I can't waste my time with this. Holding the Americans at bay is your job. I have to get as many of my men out as possible to carry out these plans. We may be missing one part, but we can do with what we have for now, but I need people to carry it out. And third, the best way to fight this battle is to disperse the troops and do quick strikes against the Americans. They have the advantage when we bunch up. They can isolate us and force us into submission. If we break up, then we can cause them havoc behind their lines and create far more casualties."
"Is that so? I believe that I am the military man here. What do you know about combat? Especially against the Americans. I have done war games against them before. The most effective way to defeat them is to form tight pockets that will force them to commit vast amounts of troops to overcome. Then you cut them down like dogs. I will get the plans out, you stay here." Nakatani saluted and ordered the sergeant to collect the gather plans on compact disks in the command post. "Good day, Hiroshi. Make Japan proud."
"Go ahead and run away, Nakatani. I know what you're doing. You think I didn't know how you planned to escape with your life if things got bad while you left everyone else to die? I already have a few of my men at the building. They will not let you go. Now give me the plans and I will get them out of here. I will return once they are safely out of the Ward, unlike you would do."
"Is that so?" Nakatani took the plans from the hand of the JSDF sergeant and held them out to the terrorist leader. He coughed and scratched his neck while looking at one of his guards "I cannot believe that you think I would abandon my men and yours when they have the chance to kill many Americans. That is so saddening." Just as the terrorist leader reached out for the small stack of discs, one of the JSDF guards kicked the terrorist's legs out from under him, and shot him in the back of the head with a silenced pistol. "I am terribly sorry, Hiroshi, but that is not for you to know." Nakatani wiped his forehead with a handkerchief and walked to his staff vehicle. "Have a platoon move to the riverside building and secure it, Sergeant."
"Yes, Colonel."
Nakatani lowered his voice and motioned to the Americans standing in shock across the yard. "And, Sergeant? Kill them. I don't need them anymore."
"As you wish, sir." The Sergeant saluted the brigade commander and watched as the Colonel's staff car drove off down the back roads. He turned and ordered three JSDF soldiers to guard the prisoners for a moment and dispose of the terrorist's body while he went and made the call for a platoon to secure the Colonel's getaway vehicle. He returned to the yard a few minutes later and drew his pistol and pulled back the hammer.
Nearby, Rivera listened to a vehicle start up. He couldn't see what was happening in the yard, but he knew that that would be the entrance to the command post. With any luck, the rogue JSDF and terrorist commanders would be there as well as the prisoners. The rogue JSDF battalion commander was disgruntled over the whole operation and had spilled his guts over the location of the command post and that an aide of his had seen some American prisoners there earlier that morning. Now Rivera and his rag-tag group of Deltas and two Army and Marine enlisted were closing in on the CP. Along the main road, a squad from the 2/14th Cav was set up with two extra medium machine guns supporting. A squad of Marines was moving from building to building along the street from the opposite side that Arleigh and his men were on.
Arleigh's radio came alive. "Five-One, Blue Four-Four. A vehicle is moving out. Intercept? Over."
"Five-One. Negative, Four-Four. Lima Two is not in position yet. Let him go. Over."
"Roger that, Five-One."
A few more minutes passed before the Marine unit was in position. "Okay, Blue Four-Four, get ready to take down anything that comes out the front. Lima Two, you are authorized to attack. Delta Five-One out." Arleigh replaced the handset and motioned for the squad to come up from the kneeling position and advance on the objective. "Get ready for take down." Arleigh pulled a flash-bang from his tactical vest and pulled the pin. Delta Sergeants Lewis and Horner followed suit with their own flash-bangs while Jones, McMichael, Chavez, and Antonelli stacked up alongside the wall enclosing the yard. "Go!" Arleigh tossed his device over the wall with Lewis's and Horner's. The three devices popped, deafening and blinding everyone in the yard. The four stacked Americans quickly burst around the corner and into the yard.
Arleigh came around the corner with his rifle up just as McMichael put a burst from his rifle into the JSDF sergeant's chest. The rogue JSDF sergeant was flung back into another JSDF soldier, who was shot in the arm by Antonelli. Chavez fired a long burst from his S.A.W. through the doorway into the building as Jones tossed in a flash-bang. Lewis and Horner split off to help the entry team while Arleigh went to the side of Morris, who was rolling around on the ground, in pain from a flash-bang, which had gone off right behind him.
McMichael cut Morris' plexicuffs and tried to calm him down. "Hey! Earl! It's me! Calm down, you're all right. Just hang in there."
Antonelli and Rivera cut the restraints on the other three prisoners as the rest of the team was inside the building, clearing it. Out front, several enemies tried to make a break for it, but they were cut down by the machine gun fire from the 2/14th Cav-Infantry squad. The Marines entered through a side window and were clearing out, too. The two entry teams met up and began clearing the upper floors. It only took five minutes before there were twenty-one enemies killed and ten prisoners with no American casualties. The assault had taken them completely by surprise.
"Hoo-ah! Welcome back to the land of the living, guys!" Arleigh slapped Morris and Williams on their backs, despite their protests.
"Sir, I can't hear a goddamn word that you just said," shouted Williams. He couldn't even hear himself speak, still feeling the effects of the flash-bang. "Can we go home now?"
Antonelli was looking at Morris's swollen, broken hand. He gave the Delta a thumbs up. "You'll be okay, you just need to have this put in a cast soon and you'll be fine.
"What?" shouted back Morris.
Mario Antonelli just waved his hand back and forth and shook his head. "Nevermind."
Arleigh grabbed the radio from Lewis and called. "Delta Five-One to Command. We have successfully rescued four American prisoners alive. Captured ten JSDF personnel and killed twenty-one. Terrorist leader has been executed by the rogue JSDF personnel prior to our arrival. Rogue JSDF brigade leader unaccounted for. He's not here, Command. One enemy soldier says that we missed him by a couple minutes. He's drove off in a staff vehicle that I let by because my teams were not in position to deal with it. Over."
"Roger that, Five-One. Evacuation chopper for the prisoners on the way. Did the soldier say where he was going? Over."
"Negative, Command. But one of my Deltas who was a prisoner said that Nakatani mentioned something about securing a riverside building. He doesn't know where, though. Over."
"Very well, Five-One. Hold position until relieved. A Stryker platoon is on the way, ETA twenty minutes. Command out."
Arleigh returned the handset and sat down on an overturned bucket in what was once the primary map room for the enemy. He looked at the body of the terrorist leader, which the troops had dragged inside after clearing the building. "I wonder what caused them to kill him," he said to no one in particular.
Back at Tokyo Airport, Natsumi's eyes fluttered open. Her vision was a bit distorted, but it slowly focused. As she panned her vision around, she saw tens of Americans lying in beds with all sorts of medical personnel milling about. A few walking wounded were dispersed about the large recovery tent, talking with other wounded or remaining silent, just sitting beside the unconscious wounded. Other Americans were clustered around TVs watching the news, probably. Except for some low conversations and the sound of heart monitors and respirators, there was little noise above the TVs.
Still weak, it was a little hard for Natsumi as she turned around. Her heart sank as she saw Miyuki lying in the next bed over, a heart monitor beeping slowly. The distance across was too great, so Natsumi couldn't reach over and hold Miyuki's hand. She just sat there, defeated that she couldn't do anything for her best friend and partner.
She almost jumped as a hand came to rest on her own shoulder. Natsumi turned back around and saw an American smiling at her.
In passable Japanese, he said, "Do not worry, Miss. She will be fine. We are taking good care of her. She needs to rest more while her blood regenerates and we give her more. But we fixed her wounds and she will be fine."
Natsumi felt a small tear form in the corner of her eye as she leaned over and hugged the American doctor. "Thank you. I can't think of what I would do if she died."
"Just rest, Miss. You are not in the best of shape, either. We had to remove a fragment from your back, but you will be fine. Rest." The American walked away and began checking on other wounded Americans. Down the end of the tent, a group of medical personnel wheeled out two severely wounded Marines who were being evacuated to a permanent hospital for more advanced surgery.
Natsumi's eyelids drooped as she thought of all the people who had died or were wounded during the fighting. There was still fighting going on, apparently. She leaned back on her bed and was about to shut her eyes when an Army buck Sergeant burst into the tent.
"Lieutenant Rivera and a platoon just rescued four prisoners from LP-Two! And the terrorist commander is dead! They have the rogue JSDF commander on the run and tons of the remaining enemies are surrendering!" Cheers erupted from all around the recovery tent from soldiers. Natsumi just looked around, wondering what had been said.
A Japanese-speaking Marine repeated it for her and her heart rate increased dramatically. Despite having felt weak before, she was elated. 'Arleigh is still alive! And if the terrorist commander is dead, then this might come to an end soon!' she thought. Just then, Ken and the Chief walked into the recovery tent. They had been ushered to another area when they had arrived on the medical evacuation with Natsumi and Miyuki. Both were considered walking wounded and had wound up elsewhere. "Ken! Chief! Did you hear? They got the terrorist commander and rescued some prisoners."
"Yeah, we did. We were just coming for you two. How are you?" responded the Chief, hugging his subordinate. "I'm so glad you're still alive."
"I'm fine. I'm a little weak, but I should be back in action soon. A doctor said they operated on Miyuki and she'll be okay. He said that she just needs to rest and recuperate." She looked worriedly at Ken who was silent, holding Miyuki's hand. "Ken, she'll be fine. I know it."
"I know, too. But it is just so hard to see her like this. She's never down, and seeing her unconscious and hooked up to this medical equipment is so strange." He sighed and stood back up. "I'll let her rest. Hey, though, you look better than you did this morning!"
"I know, but I still feel like crap. Are you two okay?"
"Yeah, we're fine. They kept us in another area for a while and then they had us helping unload evacuation choppers and load choppers for supply runs."
"Where are Aoi and Yoriko, have you seen them?" asked Natsumi.
"No, we were wondering if you had. After the final assault on the station, we lost track of them. I sure hope they're okay." As if on cue, both walked through the makeshift door of the tent.
"Natsumi! Chief! Ken!" yipped Yoriko. "You're all okay! I can't believe it!" Yoriko hugged Kachou.
Aoi looked at Miyuki. "Will she be all right?"
"Yes, the doctors said she will be fine just as long as she rests," said Natsumi. "Where were you two? We were just wondering about what had happened to you."
Aoi patted Miyuki on the shoulder and turned around. Before she responded, she pried Yoriko off of the Chief. "The Americans just evacuated us with the rest of the police. We were the last police to leave, along with Chief Arizuka, Inspector Kinoshita, and a handful of administrative personnel. We made a final sweep of the building for any police and then they put us on a helicopter and took us here."
"Have you heard anything about the battle? What is going on? We just heard that Arleigh rescued some prisoners and found the terrorist leader dead. Apparently the enemy is being routed and is surrendering," remarked the Chief.
"No, I hadn't heard that. I only know that the Americans are clearing out the Ward, street to street. They are still taking some casualties. The enemy may be surrendering, but there are still enemies who are fighting."
"I hope that this ends soon. I wonder how much longer it will take?" asked Natsumi as she sat back on her hospital bed. Nakajima pulled up some chairs for everyone, and then took one for himself and sat next to Miyuki's bed. "I just hope that no one else has to die today. Come home, Arleigh…"
"And I'm not really Chief of the Boat, I'm really Cleopatra, Queen of the Egyptians," remarked Chief Petty Officer Dan Hendricks, Chief of the Boat for the U.S.S. Vandegrift, FFG-48, an American Oliver Hazard Perry Class Guided Missile Frigate patrolling the waters in Tokyo Bay. "Look, this is my story, so shut up."
"Whatever, Chief," quipped a SONAR tech.
"Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah, so Mason here decided that he'd enjoy taking a sampan ride when we were docked in Singapore last year, and…" before the Chief could finish, a warning light lit up next to Mason, the SONAR tech.
Miller grabbed his headset and dialed in a few new settings on the console. He swore and reached up to hit the com unit. "Con, SONAR. I have an unknown contact at bearing three-four-nine, probably submerged. It's that same one I've been getting intermittently, sir."
"SONAR, Con. Try to track it, Mase. I'll be right there," responded Captain Harry Mason. The SONAR tech and the Captain weren't related, but people teased them both about the possibility of the father/son relationship actually being a secret. "What have you got, Billy?"
"I don't know, Cap'n. Plant noise is definitely diesel/electric; I'd be able to tell if it was a nuke boat, and there isn't any standard reactor noise. I am getting some reverberations from pistons, so it has to be diesel/electric."
"Hmm."
"Sir, I have a blade count, I think. The contact is doing about 4 knots." As Miller finished, the printer next to him came to life and spit out a single sheet. Miller grabbed the paper. "Computer says it's a Japanese Oyashio-Class sub. Yeah, now that I think about it, that's exactly like the sound signature the Uzushio made when we exercised with her a few months ago. It's bearing three-four-nine at about 15,000 yards."
"I'm going to bring us closer. I want to find out what this guy is up to so close to land. Chief, get me Yokosuka on the horn."
"Aye, Cap'n."
Back on land, Arleigh was conferring with Camp Zama and General Walker over the radio. "Sir, the prisoners have no idea where Colonel Nakatani could have gone. All they know is that it is somewhere along the water boundaries of the Ward." They weren't using regular radio etiquette.
"And you believe them, Lieutenant?"
"Yes, actually, I do, Colonel Kerr." Arleigh was sitting at a table in the former enemy CP and tacking away at a field computer with intel on the screen from Camp Zama on Nakatani.
"You know him, Rivera. What's your opinion?" asked Walker.
"General, I've met him five or six times in a couple years. I hardly call than knowing him. He may be flying out, he could be boating out, but even he's smart enough to know we're covering those routes heavily. We've got surface vessels from the Navy and the JMDF covering the water and going out by air is just plain suicide with our superiority."
"Even he is smart enough? Sounds like you don't hold him in too high of regard."
"Even before yesterday I didn't, sir. I don't think he was exactly pleased to be only a Brigade commander at this point. He wanted to run the entire field army and he couldn't give two craps about his men. The guy is certifiably insane, too. I never trusted him. Not that I had a choice, really." Arleigh stopped short. There was a marker on his screen indicating a new intel report had come in. Arleigh got them since he was involved in intelligence for the entire U.S. military.
He clicked on it and brought it up. 'Navy intel. There's a Japanese sub tooling around near where the Sumida and Tokyo Bay meet. All Japanese subs accounted for except one that never surfaced for com-check on three straight occasions. Sub in question is SS-592 Uzushio. Captained by Commander Tonishi Hideki. U.S.S. Vandegrift, FFG-48 maintaining track and shadow on the sub. Possible rogue submarine.' There were pictures attached to the report and Arleigh pulled them up. The first was a picture of the SS-592 docked in Yokosuka, the second was of the SS-592 underway off the coast of Kyushu, and the third was a picture of Tonishi. He looked away and was about to transmit a radio message when a light bulb went off in his head. His eyes snapped back to the picture of Tonishi on the screen. "Oh, bloody hell."
Walker's puzzled voice came across the radio. "Rivera? Rivera? Son, what the hell is going on?"
"Sir, I know how Nakatani is going to escape."
A small Zodiac boat rode down the Sumida River along the western bank. The helmsman piloted without any lights, trying to avoid detection. Wearing night vision goggles, the helmsman swore. The green hue of everything was annoying, especially since the water blended in with the shore at several points. About fifteen minutes passed before the mouth of the river was visible, but there was a duo of JMDF patrol boats moving down the river.
The helmsman quickly ducked the boat under a bridge and slid up next to a support column, canvassing the boat in the darkness. He shut down the engine and waited. The JMDF patrol boats passed under the high bridge over the river and moved on, apparently not noticing the small Zodiac. Just as the patrol craft passed, two small helicopters whizzed by overhead. The helmsman restarted the engine and gently edged the boat around the column before moving on.
A JSDF lieutenant grabbed a small radio-receiver device and turned it on. It immediately began picking up a short-wave homing signal coming from a tiny buoy floating in the Bay near the mouth of the Sumida. The lieutenant fed the helmsman the directions towards the buoy, and the small boat increased speed as it exited the River and entered the bay. The target was within sight.
A few hundred feet above the water, two 160th SOAR MH-6 helicopters met up over the mouth of the river. Over the Delta coms, the team conversed about the situation. "Damnit, he may not be out right now," said McMichael over the set.
Out in the distance, Arleigh saw the Vandegrift moving in closer to the mouth of the river. Two SH-60 Anti-Submarine helicopters from the frigate were using dipping SONAR to try and locate the probable Japanese sub contact. "Yeah, maybe not. We'll loiter as long as we can, see if he shows up." Arleigh leaned back against the slightly vibrating frame of the Little Bird chopper and flipped his night vision goggles up before rubbing his eyes. He had remembered from an earlier meeting with Nakatani, that there had been a naval officer there, a Commander named Tonishi. The officer had been introduced as Nakatani's cousin. After a little bit of research, Arleigh had found out that Tonishi was considered a maverick in the JMDF, always harping about making the military larger and amending the constitution to allow for offensive operations. He was crazy enough to attempt what Arleigh thought he would attempt.
He replaced his night vision goggles and continued to scan the Bay below. Off in the distance, Arleigh saw that the wake from the Vandegrift had changed and the frigate was making an emergency hard turn to port. "What the hell?"
"Lieutenant, you might want to hear this." The MH-6's pilot came across the Delta's com net and relayed a message that had come across an open channel.
"Torpedo in the water! This is the U.S.S. Vandegrift; we are under attack from a Japanese submarine in Tokyo Bay! Taking evasive action!"
The Perry-Class was known for its sports-car like handling, and soon it was rocketing away from the scene at 31 knots towards the opposite side of the Bay. The Vandegrift jettisoned a torpedo decoy, but it was too late. Above, the Americans in the choppers watched in horror as the torpedo exploded next to the aft helicopter deck. A column of water shot up into the dusk sky and plumes of flames rose from the deck.
"Mary Mother of God!" yelled Arleigh over the com.
"Sir, look!" Chavez said. He pointed down at the water as a sub surfaced a few hundred yards from the hovering choppers. A small black shape was racing towards the sub as it surfaced.
"That's our man! Chief get us over that sub immediately."
"Yes, sir!" shouted back the pilot over the com.
Arleigh grabbed his M4A1 from the clip-hold on the bench next to him and primed a flare in the 40mm grenade launcher. He fired at as sharp an angle as possible without hitting the rotor blades. The flare shot up and deployed a soft red color. The submarine was illuminated as well as the Zodiac now only a few hundred yards away from the sub.
"Okay, Chief, open the link to the horn." Inside the chopper, the pilot turned on a loud-speaker which was routed to Arleigh's com gear. In Japanese, Arleigh began, "Attention Japanese submarine, stop where you are. Do not attempt to submerge or you will be torpedoed. Attention Zodiac boat, shut off your motor and turn away from the submarine or you will be fired upon. Repeat, stop." Arleigh bit back a swear as he saw the two helicopters from the Vandegrift making turns to return to the ship and provide search and rescue support in case there were men in the water. The helicopter deck was a firestorm, so they couldn't land, though. 'Crap, they'll realize that two unarmed choppers can't do them any damage. I need torps from those Seahawks.'
The two MH-6s began taking small arms fire from the conning tower of the surfaced submarine. Lewis reported the fact over the radio, as if Arleigh didn't know. "Roger that, Sergeant. Shoot back at the submarine. Chavez, you and me are going to fire warning shots at the Zodiac. Try not to hit them, just fire in front of them or above their heads."
"Roger." The gunner and Arleigh began firing warning shots around the Zodiac, trying to deter it from moving any closer to the submarine, but it wasn't working. The two were within a few hundred yards, and once they linked up, that was the game. Nakatani could enter through a deck hatch and the sub would submerge. The nearest healthy American ship was on the other side of the Bay, and the Vandegrift was now listing heavily to starboard while continuing to burn.
"Ah, bloody hell, Chavez. Keep at it, I want him alive!" Arleigh broke out a launched grenade, hoping that the force of hitting the water from 300 feet would detonate the round. It did. He hoped explosives would be more influential on the Zodiac's decision to stop. "He ain't buying it. Damnit! We'll have to take him out. On three, shoot for the Zodiac. Sink the sum'bitch. Hopefully he can swim. One, two…"
The submarine shook violently as a 76mm cannon round slammed into the conning tower. A secondary explosion ripped the most of the structure off of the submarine. Several bodies were pitched hundreds of feet into the air and fell into the bay.
Arleigh looked up and saw smoke coming from the Vandegrift mid-structure, but there weren't any flames. The ship's 76mm cannon pumped out another round, which slammed into the stern of the listing submarine. The Perry-Class was also known for its incredibly tough design, so it wasn't a surprise to Arleigh that it had managed a turn to port and was making a run at the submarine. 'Christ, even getting hit in the stern and it can manage rudder and prop controls.' The stern was still on fire, but it seemed to be under control. The fire eerily silhouetted the Vandegrift as it menacingly advanced on the stricken sub.
Below, the Zodiac had stopped and was retrieving a body from the water. Apparently they realized that the escape wasn't going to happen. Arleigh ordered the MH-6 to fly lower and hover above the Zodiac. The American officer was surprised to see through his night vision goggles that there was a man on the Zodiac being held at gunpoint, and he looked to be Nakatani. "Hey, Chavez, are you seeing what I'm, seeing."
"Yeah, I think so. They don't look like a happy family. What are we going to do?"
"Cover them with your S.A.W. I want to communicate with them." Arleigh asked the pilot to reopen the link to the loud-speaker. "Attention Zodiac boat; if you wish to surrender you must remain at least 100 meters from the submarine, but you may recover the sailors thrown from it." Arleigh closed the link just as Jones came across the net.
"Sir, when will a boarding team be able to get here?"
"I don't know. But we're going to wait here until an American sea bound unit gets here. I don't want to risk a Japanese unit doing something, whether helping or killing them." Arleigh continued to aim his rifle from the hovering chopper at the boat. Several minutes passed. The choppers were running lower on fuel as time passed. The U.S.S. Chaffee was steaming for the area to put out a launch, but Arleigh received a radio relay from the Vandegrift.
"Rivera, it's Harry Mason. We've got the fires out and are proud to report that we have sustained only ten minor wounds and no deaths, testament to the design of this fabulous ship. We're setting out our undamaged launch to board and capture the Zodiac and the Chaffee will arrive in approximately fifteen minutes to board the stricken submarine. SONAR has reported that the submarine has lost its engine and is dead in the water. It has not attempted communications at this time. Over."
"That's great to hear, Vandy. We'll provide cover until you have the prisoners. Great shots with those 76 mike-mikes, by the way, Captain. Over."
"Thanks, Rivera. Launch on the way. Vandy Out."
The remaining team members watched the Vandy's launch sail around the stricken submarine and advance on the Zodiac. After the boarding team had secured the prisoners, including a very alive and furious Colonel Nakatani, the pilot announced over the coms that the helicopter had reached bingo-fuel status. The pilot was using the emergency reserve to stay aloft.
Arleigh asked for a commo relay. "Vandy, we're disengaging and heading back to base. Thanks for saving our butts out there, Captain. Over."
"Any time, Delta, any time. I'll see you later, Rivera. It appears that your dad's debt to me is going to be repaid by you. When we dock, you're buying my crew beers."
Arleigh laughed. "Aye, Cap'n. I'll put it on the Army's tab. Delta Five-One Out." He addressed the rest of the team. "Great job, guys. I'm proud of you. Now maybe we can end this thing. Put 'em on safe and let 'em hang, boys. Let's call it a day. Mission accomplished." Cheers came over the com set as Arleigh banged on the cockpit door twice, signaling the pilot to return to base. As the MH-6s turned south and headed for the airport, Arleigh couldn't help but think about all his fellow Army and Marine Corps soldiers who had been evacuated. This was a victory for them, too. But above all, there were two young women, hopefully still alive, back at the field hospital who he thought about. He made a note to locate them as soon as the chopper landed. 'You two had better be okay, Natsumi and Miyuki, or I'll be very pissed.' Arleigh smiled. 'They're definitely okay. Nothing can stop them. Why would I doubt them?' He watched the night skyline of Tokyo flash by beneath him. "I love my job! Woo!"
THE END
(But stay tuned for the Epilogue!)
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