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It was immediately obvious to Deke that the initial charge across the clearing was nothing more than a feint, because on this side of the bunker, a half-dozen enemy soldiers approached silently, at a crouch. Several were loaded down with grenades. This facet of the bunker had the largest blind side because of the solid door set into the middle of the wall. The foxholes on this back side were empty, the Filipino fighters having been lured away to face the charging enemies.

Deke was sure that the grenades were intended to breach the door. Solid as it looked, if the Japanese piled enough grenades against the door, it might just splinter.

The Japanese soldier leading the sneak attack looked up. Deke caught a glimpse of his face, and a jolt of recognition went through him.

“I’ll be damned if it ain’t Mr. Suey,” he muttered.

“That’s him, all right,” Faraday agreed. “Put a bullet through the middle of his ugly mug for me, will ya?”

“You got it.”

“Who the hell is Mr. Suey?” Philly wondered.

“Nothing but the meanest Jap bastard you ever met,” Faraday said. “Every guy here would like to get his hands on that son of a bitch and tear him to pieces.”

Deke was trying to save them the trouble. He hadn’t endured nearly as much at Suey’s hands as the POWs had, but nonetheless, during his time in the hot box, he had dreamed about the moment when he got the enemy sergeant in his crosshairs.

But Suey wasn’t making it easy. He ran at a crouch, moving fast, dodging right and left. Deke took his time aiming. He didn’t want to wing Suey. He wanted to kill him.

His finger tightened on the trigger as Suey finally ran straight up the middle to cover the last few yards to the bunker.

Got you now.

Except at that moment someone shouted a warning from behind him. He felt Faraday grab him and pull him down. The next instant, the bunker was filled with an earsplitting blast, like being caught inside a tin can with a firecracker.

He turned to see that one of the Japanese attackers had managed to shove a grenade through the firing slit on that side. It had detonated with devastating effect.

“I’m hit!” Rodeo shouted, reeling away from the firing slit, blood streaming from the side of his face.

Shrapnel from the grenade had also left several of the ex-POWs torn and bleeding, not to mention stunned and deafened.

Another grenade tumbled through the opening and rolled into the middle of the bunker.

“Look out!” Yoshio shouted.

Quick as lightning, Cooper launched himself across the bunker and pounced on the grenade like a cat on a mouse. The thing went off with a sickening whunk as Cooper’s body absorbed the blast. There was no doubt that he had just traded several lives for his own.

Lieutenant Steele raised himself up and jammed his shotgun through the firing slit. The twelve-gauge made short work of whatever attackers had made it close enough to the bunker wall to get those grenades in.

The twin grenade blasts had pulled Deke’s attention away from his own firing slit. When he looked again, Mr. Suey was no longer in sight, safely in the bunker’s blind spot. Deke cursed, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He heard a thud on the other side of the door, leaving no doubt that the Japanese planned to blast their way through.

“Fire in the hole!” Deke shouted to warn the others.

But he didn’t plan on letting the Japanese off the hook that easily. Taking a few steps back, he leveled his rifle at the thick door and fired.

Deke knew from experience that the Springfield fired a .30–06 round with enough power to punch through a six-inch tree trunk. More than one enemy soldier had found that out the hard way. He reckoned that his bullet could get through the door. With any luck, one of those slugs would drill a hole right through Mr. Suey.

He got off three shots before the door blew.

The blast knocked Deke backward, clean off his feet. Splinters of the door flew inside through the roiling smoke. As the smoke cleared, it was evident that the door had remained in place, but it now hung askew like a tattered curtain.

The first Japanese that pushed his way into the bunker died when he was cut nearly in two by a blast from Lieutenant Steele’s shotgun. Steele advanced on the blown door, pumping the shotgun and firing, screaming bloody murder all the while. Another enemy soldier came through the door and died.

Steele ran out of shells. Cursing, he grabbed hold of one end of the hot barrel, holding the shotgun like a baseball bat.

Somehow Deke managed to keep a grip on his rifle, although the blast that shattered the door had knocked him down. Ears ringing and dizzy, he got to his feet.

At that moment, it was Mr. Suey who came through the smoking, broken doorway. In one hand, he held a pistol. In the other, he held a grenade.

His sand-colored tunic was stained with blood, evidence that perhaps one of Deke’s bullets through the door had winged him.