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Cuttlefish -> RE: Small Ship, Big War (3/26/2008 9:54:09 PM)
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December 8, 1943
Location: Kwajalein
Course: None
Attached to: Disbanded in port
Mission: None
System Damage: 1
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 475
Orders: Await further orders
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Corporal Umeda, formerly Lieutenant Umeda of the Tokeitai, lurks in an alley near the Tokeitai offices in Tokyo. He is very nervous about being this close to his former post; there are too many people here who would recognize him and who would no doubt be happy to turn him in. And as a deserter he knows what fate awaits him if he is caught. There will be a brief hearing for the sake of form, followed swiftly by his execution.
But his hatred and desire for revenge is greater than his fear and so he waits in the alley, peering around several large trash cans at the people passing by in the street. He is waiting for someone, and after a few more minutes he spots him passing by. He emerges from behind the trash cans and hurries to the mouth of the alley.
“Ichikawa!” he hisses at the back of a man walking towards the Tokeitai building. “Hey, Ichikawa!” Lieutenant Ichikawa turns curiously and walks back towards the alley. As he gets close he sees Umeda. His eyes widen in surprise.
“Umeda!” he says. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you,” says Umeda. “Look, I need a favor. I need a couple of personnel files, for Ishii and Shun of destroyer Hibiki. I need to know where they live.”
“What?” says Ichikawa. The officer’s eyes widen in his thin face, which somehow always reminds Umeda of that of a rabbit, and he looks around nervously to make sure no one else is watching them. Then he looks back at Umeda. “Are you mad? You are a deserter. If I am caught helping you they might shoot me, too!”
“Just this one favor for a friend,” says Umeda. “Then I will leave and never bother you again.”
“Friend?” says Ichikawa. “We were not friends, Umeda. We were fellow officers and acquaintances. Have you learned nothing from what has happened to you? Give up these mad plans of revenge. Go back into hiding, and be glad I do not turn you in this moment.”
Anger fills Umeda, banishing reason, and he steps out of the alley towards Ichikawa. “You always were a soft little fool, Ichikawa. You will help me or your family will be next. And I already know where they live!”
Ichikawa gapes in astonishment and fear at Umeda. Then he turns towards the Tokeitai building, some 100 meters up the street. “Guards!” he yells. “Guards, help!”
Panic grips Umeda. This must be stopped! Without thinking he pulls from his pocket an old Type A Nambu pistol, the only gun he has been able to get his hands on. He points it at Ichikawa’s back and pulls the trigger three times.
For a wonder the weapon does not jam. Ichikawa’s cries end abruptly in a choked gurgling noise and he pitches forward onto the damp, slushy street. The amount of blood spreading across the back of his uniform astonishes Umeda, who stands staring in horror at what he has just done. A woman standing nearby screams.
Feeling dazed, Umeda kneels and rolls Ichikawa over. Maybe he will be all right, Umeda thinks desperately. Ichikawa slowly turns his head and looks at him, his eyes filled with pain and confusion.
“You…” he chokes out, then his legs spasm once and he goes still. Other people are now pointing and yelling and from the Tokeitai building two guards are running in his direction, rifles in hand. Umeda stands and runs down the street away from them, still clutching the pistol. The sidewalk is crowded and he pushes or knocks aside several people who get in his way. Behind him the guards reach the Ichikawa’s body. One raises his rifle and aims at the retreating Umeda, but there are too many people to give him a clear shot. The guard lowers his weapon. At his feet Ichikawa’s blood flows among the cobblestones and mixes with the sluggish water trickling down the gutter.
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