One Man's Island

by Thomas J. Wolfenden

  “I can picture it perfectly, just sitting here.”

  “Picture what?” she asked.

  “I can see where the Japanese planes came, swooping down on that Sunday morning. See it all in my mind,” he said, pointing over to Ford Island, where all the battleships were moored so long ago. He could see the USS Missouri from where he sat, and he thought she looked pretty sad. Listing to one side, her entire superstructure was now layered with a coating of white bird droppings, her gray sides streaked with rust.

  “Sad way for that old girl to go, isn’t it?”

  “Aye, it is.”

  “And look at the flag over the USS Arizona monument. Before we go, I need to get over there and replace it,” he said, pointing out the torn and tattered Stars and Stripes.

  “We’ll do that, Tim,” she said, seeing tears forming in his eyes.

  “There are so many dead, here and all over the world, and for what?”

  “I don’t know, Tim,” she said softly, and held him tighter. They sat silently until the sun dropped below the hills to the west, and they got up holding hands. They went back into the hangar, and found Izzy and Robyn.

  “We found a room in the back with a bunch of couches we can all sleep on tonight,” Izzy said.

  “That sounds good. We’ll have to settle for MRE’s tonight,” Tim said.

  They walked back to the rear. Jimenez had found a few lanterns, and had them lit inside the room. It looked like a break room of some sort but had a musty, stale smell to it. There was a refrigerator on the far wall, but Tim decided not to open it; no telling what sort of science projects were growing in it. They ate, and bedded down for the night. Tim looked over at Holly on her couch, wishing he could go and hold her, then his mind began to wander, and he thought about the way she filled out that flight suit and drifted off to sleep with that image in is head.

  The next day Jimenez got busy with the repairs, and Robyn and Holly offered to help. Tim liked that in Holly. A lot of officers didn’t like to get down and dirty with the troops, especially the British ones he found, but there she was with her sleeves rolled up wielding a wrench.

  Tim looked over at Izzy. “Want to go for a drive?”

  “Sure. Beats sitting around here.”

  He told the others what they were doing, hopped into the Hum-Vee, and drove off towards the front gate.

  “What’s your plan today, Tim?” Izzy asked.

  “I was thinking of scaring up a flag and trying to find a way over to the Arizona monument to replace the ratty one there.”

  “That’s a nice gesture, Tim.”

  “They’re my brothers, too,” he said, and Izzy nodded. “You never talked about your time in the Navy. I guess it wasn’t too eventful, eh?”

  “Oh, I had more than my fair share of excitement. I was Brown Water Navy, Mekong Delta, 70’ and 71’.”

  “PBRs huh? Yeah, I understand why you don’t talk about it then.”

  “True, but it wasn’t all bad. Got out then, and went to medical school, and lived a good life after that. I’ve been meaning to ask you. That old grease gun you have strapped to your rucksack. I haven’t seen one of those in years. Where did you get that?”

  “About a year after I got on the police department, I was only about twenty-two or so, I get this call on the radio, see this woman, unknown problem.”

  “I thought you had found it after everything happened.”

  “No, I’ve had it a long time,” Tim said. “Anyway, I get to the address, and this older woman answers the door, very happy to see me. She told me that her husband had recently died, and when she was going through his things, found ‘this old gun he must have brought back from the war’, and didn’t know what to do with it. So I said ‘let me take a look at it’, and she brings out this old satchel and there’s the grease gun, extra magazines, a .45 auto and a Luger. I closed the bag and told her not to worry, that I’d take care of them for her!”

  Izzy laughed hard. “And you sure took care of them alright! I’m sure you’d have been in big trouble if you’d been found out.”

  “That I would have, but I knew what would have happened to them if I turned them in. I couldn’t let a few pieces of history go to the smelter like that,” he said, as they drove through the main gate out onto the street. As he was turning, a loud crack startled them. It sounded like a rock had hit the windshield, and Tim slammed on his brakes as another crack was heard. The corner of the windshield starred, and a small hole appeared. He slammed the Hum-Vee into reverse and backed up all the way to the main gate guardhouse. Grabbing his carbine, he went to get out, and said to Izzy, “Stay here!”

  “Don’t worry about that, I’ll stay right here!” Izzy said fearfully.

  Pulling the charging handle to load a round into the chamber, he rounded the Hum-Vee and took cover by the guardhouse. It was then he noticed the walls were pockmarked with bullet holes, and he looked on the ground and saw several empty shell casings lying about. He picked one up. A 7.62x39. An AK-47. He dropped the shell, peered around the building, and saw nothing.

  “I am getting entirely too fucking old for this shit!" He shook his head in anger.

  “Hey!” he yelled out. “Why are you shooting at me?”

  He heard nothing for a few seconds, then someone yelled back, “You just stay where you are, and don’t come into town, okay?”

  “Why the fuck not?” he yelled back.

  “Because of what you did the last time you fuckers were here, that’s why!”

  “Last time?” he called out. “I’ve never been here before! Who the fuck are you?”

  “Staff Sergeant Williams, US Army!” the voice called back. Now Tim was getting really pissed. He stood up and exposed himself, feeling the gun sights on him. “Well I’m Sergeant Major Flannery, US Army and I’m coming out there to talk to you, Goddamn it!”

  He started to walk out into the open, into the middle of the street, the M4 hanging limply off his shoulder. He spread out his arms and looked around.

  “Okay, asshole. Shoot me or come out here and talk!” He waited a full minute before he saw a man pop up out of the weeds across the street holding an M4 on him. He was a tall black man, about Tim’s height, and he was dressed in older green jungle utilities, like the ones Tim had worn in the Ranger Regiment. His face was painted with camouflage paint and his green patrol cap had a perfect ‘Ranger Curve’ to it also. Tim put his hands on his hips as the man got nearer, and when he reached out to frisk him, Tim spoke up.

  “You touch me, and I’ll take that rifle and beat you with it. I said we talk, not play grab-ass.”

  “Well, you sure sound like a Sergeant Major,” the man said, straightening.

  “Now what’s this ‘before’ shit? We’ve just flown in from the mainland yesterday. You didn’t hear the fucking Hercules fly over?”

  “We thought it was the same people who came a few years ago on the ship. We got word of them tearing around the Pacific, kidnapping people, especially the women, and basically spreading mayhem like a bunch of pirates from the seventeenth century.”

  “Got word on them how?”

  “By ham radio. There used to be a bunch of stations all over the place, all along the Pacific Rim. Then he found out about them, and one by one, got rid of them somehow. At least that’s what we think, because they’d transmit he was back, then they’d be off the air.”

  “So, it was like a sailing ship?”

  “No, a goddamn US Navy ship is what it was. Aegis class destroyer.”

  “So when they came here the last time did they by any chance lob a cruise missile at you?” Tim asked. He felt like he was in an episode of The Twilight Zone.

  “Yeah, they did, few of them, as a matter of fact. Three went into the jungle north of here, but one plastered Hickam pretty good.”

  “I know. It damaged our plane landing. One of the bomblets didn’t go off until we hit it. So you’re telling me some rogue captain is sailing the seas, swashbuckling like Errol Fl
ynn?”

  “About like that, Sar’ Major.”

  “Well, I’ll be dipped in dogshit,” he said, pulling out and lighting his pipe. “Come with me, I want to make sure my passenger is alright. He’s seventy years old, and you’ve probably given him a heart attack.”

  “Sorry, Sar’ Major, but we weren’t sure.”

  “We?” Tim asked.

  Williams raised his hand in a circular motion and ten more men stood up from the weeds. They had been there the whole time, camouflaged so well, that even Tim didn’t make them.

  “I’m impressed,” Tim said.

  “I was a Ranger and instructor at the jungle school here.”

  “We’ve got something in common, Sergeant. I was first ‘Batt’, Sua Sponte,” Tim said, holding out his hand, and Williams, now smiling, took it.

  “I was Third Batt. Sua Sponte!” Williams said, repeating the Ranger motto in Latin. The men headed off towards town, and Williams followed Tim over to the Hum-Vee, with Tim making the introductions.

  “You’re a doctor?” Williams asked.

  “And I’ve never been on TV,” Izzy said with a smile.

  “We could sure use you, Doc. We got one sick kid in town. He’s badly infected, and really sick.”

  “Take us there then,” Izzy said, now feeling a lot less like a third wheel. They piled into the Hum-Vee, and Williams gave the directions.

  “We’ve got a few professions around, but no doctor. We had a nurse until two years ago. She decided to go over to the big island with her partner and hasn’t been back.”

  Tim pulled up in front of a small cottage with an overgrown front yard, and they all got out and started to walk towards the front door. An attractive Eurasian woman with long dark hair and a worried look, came to the door to meet them.

  “Mary, this is Doctor Ginsberg, and Sar’ Major Flannery. They’re here to help Billy,” Williams said, and you could see the relief on her face. The woman showed them the boy’s bedroom, and they found a boy with Asian features but snow-white blonde hair lying on the bed, obviously very sick. Izzy brushed by them all and sat down next to the boy. The other three left him to do his work, and went out to the living room.

  “How old is the boy, ma’am?” Tim asked.

  “He’ll be six this year. I hope he gets better, he’s all I have left.”

  “Izzy will fix him up, ma’am.”

  Izzy came out and asked for a sheet of paper, which Mary got for him. He wrote down a long list of things and handed it over to Tim. “I need those things. Go to a pharmacy or better yet, the hospital, and get all of those things listed. Some of the equipment you can forgo if you can’t find it, but the drugs are a must. He’s one very sick boy, indeed. Hopefully, with those drugs and other things, I’ll be able to get him better.”

  Tim handed the paper to Williams. “Take the Hum-Vee and I’ll stay here. You know your way around here, I don’t.”

  Izzy told them it was a bad case of tetanus, and he needed some heavy duty antibiotics.

  “He was playing in the yard next door and cut himself on a nail or something,” Mary said.

  “That will do it. I’m going back in with the boy. I’ll keep you informed,” he said, and went back into the bedroom. Tim sat down on the couch, and Mary sat on a chair across from him. “His father is on that ship.”

  “You mean when they were here he—”

  “No, no! We met before it sailed for the Indian Ocean. We dated for several months. He’s an officer, or he was. I don’t know if he’s dead or not.”

  “So he doesn’t know?”

  “No. I didn’t know I was pregnant until after they sailed. I thought about emailing him several times, but I lost my nerve,” she said, looking at her hands.

  “You don’t think he’s got anything to with what the ship has been doing?”

  “No, I don’t think that. Bill was a kind, gentle man. He’d never condone what they’ve been doing.”

  “And you’re sure it’s his ship?” Tim asked, and then felt bad, because he thought he was beginning to sound like a cop.

  “Yes, it’s his ship. The USS Phillip J. Hughes. The big ‘193’ on the bow says it all,” she said, getting up to make some tea. When she was finished she came out with two cups and handed Tim one. They sat and drank in silence, and Tim looked around the room where he saw a photo of Mary and a bear of a towheaded man. They both were wearing loud Hawaiian shirts, standing arm in arm on the bow of the Missouri, and smiling. He guessed that was Bill. They made uncomfortable small talk for about an hour before they heard the Hum-Vee pull up. Tim went outside and helped Williams unload everything and bring it to Izzy. He asked Mary to stay and help him, and Tim pulled Williams outside.

  “So tell me the whole story, Williams,” Tim said, pulling out his pipe and lighting a bowl.

  “Well, the best we can figure is this. Right after everything went to shit, someone took charge of that ship and started going from port to port, taking everything that wasn’t nailed down, including people. With each place they stopped, they got more and more brutal. After a while, when people overcame the shock of what happened, ham transmitters started to pop up all over the Pacific. We thought we were alone out here, but apparently we weren’t.” He paused and looked out over the neighborhood.

  “Go on,” Tim urged.

  “By the time they got here, we had prepared for them, and gave them a little welcoming party when they tried to leave the base. They never got off the base, but they got what they were after here anyway,” he said with a grimace.

  “And that was?”

  “They grabbed the nukes from the base from where they were stored. And now he’s after the codes.”

  Tim let out a long whistle. “And then what?”

  “He left here, lobbed a few cruise missiles at us, but they didn’t hit anything of importance. He sailed south from here, and one by one, every little transmitter started disappearing.”

  “You keep on saying ‘he’. Who’s ‘he’?”

  “Whoever is now in command of that goddamn ship.”

  “And you haven’t heard from him since?”

  “Well, sort of. We know he’s in Tahiti, been there for a while. He’s been talking to some girl in Arizona, and apparently she’s got the codes and everything, or at least her dad has them.”

  Tim felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach, and sat down on the steps.

  “Are you okay, Sar’ Major?” Williams said, seeing Tim go pale.

  “Yeah, go on.”

  “Like I was saying, he’s in Tahiti and wants those codes, but I don’t think he’s willing to travel north to the mainland then walk to Arizona for them.”

  “I need a drink,” Tim said, cocking his patrol cap back on his head. “Let me ask you something, Williams. Have you heard this girl talking to them recently?”

  “I don’t know about last night. All of us were busy and no one was monitoring the radio, but the last time she talked to him was a few nights ago.”

  “Okay, I really need a drink.”

  “Some water?”

  “No, whiskey, bourbon, vodka, that kind of drink.”

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  Tim told him everything, and it was Williams’ turn to pale and sit down. “Oh fuck!”

  “Yeah, oh fuck,” Tim said, lighting his pipe and puffing away.

  “Listen, Sar’ Major, I wouldn’t be too hard on the kid. The operator he’s got down there in Tahiti is a real player. Played her like a violin. At first I think he was just bored and heard it was a girl on the other end of the Morse key, but then one night she let something slip, and he grabbed on and played her, and she walked right into his grasp.”

  “I know, I’m angry and sad all at the same time, Sergeant,” Tim said.

  “The name’s Jerry,” Williams said. “Jerome Williams, but everyone calls me Jerry.”

  “Tim. Call me Tim, but not in front of the troops, okay?” he smirked. “Now, Jerry, we get to figure this on
e out all by ourselves with no officers involved.”

  “Just the way I like it, Tim! I just saw a little flash go off in your eyes. What’s on your mind?”

  “You said that as far as you know, they still think we’re in Arizona, right?”

  “As far as we know, that’s correct,” Jerry said.

  “And your men, would they be willing to do a little travelling to take care of some business?” Tim asked, a smile growing on his face.

  “Most of the men are islanders, not Haole like us. These fucks on that boat have been going around kidnapping and raping every islander they come across. My men will travel.”

  “And you’ve got them pretty well up to speed on most everything?”

  “Fuckin’ A I do!”

  Tim stood and Jerry did the same. “Jerry, what’s the one thing we both learned in jungle school?”

  “Ambush!” Jerry said, with a broad grin.

  “How to set up and then execute a pisser of an ambush. Now let’s you and I go back to the base and explain it to my people, and while we’re at it I’ll explain to a very naïve young girl the real meaning of COMSEC.”

  “Sar’ Major, I have a feeling this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship!”

  “So do I, Sergeant. Now let’s tell Izzy what we’re doing,” Tim said, and went into the house. He told Izzy they were headed back to the base, and Izzy said for them to go, he’d be staying here with the sick boy, and would probably stay the night. Tim and Jerry got into the Hum-Vee and drove off in the direction of the base.

  “Didn’t get a chance to tell you this, and it might help for whatever you got cooking. We’ve been in contact with a group of Aussies for a few years.”

  “I thought they could hear your transmitter?”

  “The ham bands they can. This is on an old analog single side band military channel from World War II that nobody uses anymore, and we’re using a code of Pidgin English and Tagalog. The same as the Coastwatchers used. I doubt seriously they’d figure it out, even if they did hear us.”