Time Risk: A Time Travel Novel, page 22
Rachel’s expression was cool as she stared boldly into his eyes. “Well, you certainly know how to show a girl from Nebraska a good time, sir.”
The band jumped into the song In the Mood, and the dance floor erupted with energy. All around Rachel and Lieutenant Commander Rowe, dancers swung and swayed, their bodies bending into athletic twirls and playful spins. The saxophones wailed, the trumpets soared, and the drums and upright bass thumped.
Zach appeared and tapped Anne on the shoulder, looking at Lieutenant Commander Rowe with defiance. “May I have this dance, Anne?”
Rachel’s smile was extravagant. “I’d love to. Excuse me, Lieutenant Commander Rowe.”
Rowe drew himself up to his full height. “I’ll send a car to your bungalow at eight a.m. on Monday morning, Miss Fowler. I’ll expect you to be in Honolulu at nine o’clock sharp, and I advise that you don’t plan to leave town.”
“And so you know where my bungalow is, Lieutenant Commander? How flattering.”
He pivoted, picked his way across the dance floor, and returned to his table, where Kawai was waiting.
“I’ll look forward to it,” Rachel said to his retreating back, watching him return to his table.
“What was that all about, Anne?” Zach asked.
Rachel nibbled on her lip. “Nothing. It was nothing, Zach. Can we go out to the side terrace? I’m hot and my feet hurt.”
“Yeah, sure.”
On the terrace, they strolled under the Japanese lanterns, watching insects flutter about the light, noticing couples kissing in the shadows, noticing silhouetted couples kissing out under the distant palms.
Rachel’s mind was racing, processing her conversation with Rowe. It didn’t matter how he had discovered her identity—he had done it. Maybe she wasn’t even surprised. The question was, would it impact her mission? No, by the time Monday came around, Lieutenant Commander Rowe and the Honolulu Police Department would have their hands full. She would be last on their list. That was, unless Victoria had managed to convince someone in power about the imminent Japanese attack.
“Anne,” Zach said, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Let’s move over there.”
They strolled, stopping in shadows at the far end of the terrace, away from the crowds.
Rachel turned to him. On the dance floor, she’d seen his booze-glazed eyes. He’d definitely thrown back a few. She’d had one drink, and that would be her limit.
“Anne…” he repeated.
She waited.
“You’re a beautiful woman, you know.”
“No, I’m not, Zach. I’m not the ugliest woman in the world, but I’m no hot chick either,” she said, purposely using twenty-first century slang.
“Hot chick? I’ve never heard that one.”
“No, I wouldn’t think so. It’s a Nebraska thing.”
“Can I kiss you?” Zach asked, moving in closer.
Rachel considered it for a moment. “No… In fact, I’m going to have to go. Can you drive me?”
Zach drew back in dramatic disappointment. “Leave? But Anne, the party’s just getting started. I thought we were going to dance the night away.”
Rachel glanced down at her right foot. “Sorry, Zach, but my foot is killing me, and it’s been a long day, and I have to be up early for my flying lesson with David Whitlock.”
“Ah, forget Whitlock and his flying lesson. I’ll take you up.”
“I promised David, and I never go back on a promise. Please take me home, Zach.”
He twisted up his face in disappointment, pocketed his hands and shrugged. “All right, all right, but I’m real disappointed, Anne. I just want you to know that.”
She leaned over and gave him a peck on the lips. “Thanks for a great time, Zach. I had fun.”
Before leaving, Rachel returned to the table, confirmed with David their 6:15 a.m. flying date, and then said her goodbyes.
Sitting in Zach’s Buick, Rachel stared straight ahead while Zach stole quick glances at her. “Do you want to go somewhere else? We could drive into Wahiawa and get another drink. What do you say?”
“No thanks, Zach. I have a headache and a foot ache. Maybe another time.”
“But there won’t be another time, will there? Aren’t you leaving for the mainland soon?”
“Yeah, soon, but I’m not sure when. Why don’t you go back to your barracks and write Angie a note? I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”
Zach mumbled something under his breath, but Rachel couldn’t make it out.
He pulled the car into the bungalow parking lot and drove the short distance to Rachel’s bungalow, braking to a stop.
She turned to him. “You don’t need to walk me in, Zach. I’m going straight to bed.”
Zach frowned. “Well, I wish you felt better.”
Rachel opened the door and turned back to him. “I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep. Thanks again.”
She climbed out, shut the door and started for her front door. Zach leaned his head out the window and said, “I’ll come with David tomorrow morning. We won’t take the trainer. We’ll fly the B-18 Bolo. You can sit in the copilot’s seat, and we’ll make Whitlock the engineer.”
Rachel turned back with a tight smile. “Sounds fun. See you at 6:15.”
Inside her bungalow, Rachel closed the door and leaned back against it. She switched on the light and waited until she heard Zach’s car back up and drive away.
She felt tension, like a coiled spring. Was she making the right decision? Once in the plane, she needed to persuade David and Zach to take her on a tour of Kahula Point and the golf course, along the eastern side of Oahu—far from where the Japanese would launch their attack from the north and northwest. Timing was critical to prevent David from reaching any airfield and taking off to confront the Japanese.
PHASE 4
CHAPTER 45
Rachel awoke with a sense of floating unease. A shock of panic jolted her upright, and she stared wildly into the darkness.
She glanced to her right at the ticking clock on the nightstand. It was 5:25 a.m., five minutes before the alarm. Her sleep had been fitful—maybe she’d slept three hours.
After a shower, she went to the cedar closet and snatched her culottes and Hawaiian blouse. She pulled on her shoes, checking and rechecking her purse. Inside was her Wheeler Field forged Visitor Pass, and the ice pick she bought in Honolulu, just in case.
The first light of dawn filtered through the lace curtains as she approached the window and peered out into the dim morning. At 6:15, there was no sign of the pilots. Rachel swallowed her nerves, opened the door, and waited. By 6:40, they still hadn’t arrived, and the morning air had already warmed, with the sun banishing the lingering shadows.
At nearly seven o’clock, she was fighting panic. Either they’d overslept or they’d blown her off.
Urgency drove her back inside to call a cab. She’d travel to Wheeler Field and use her forged Visitor Pass to get onto the base and find David’s car. Just as she picked up the phone and asked the operator for the number to Wheeler Field, she heard a car pull into the driveway. She hung up the phone, rushed to the open front door, and peered out. To her relief, it was Zach’s Buick.
David emerged, wearing his uniform, but tieless, his hands raised in apology. “I’m so sorry, Anne, we overslept. Too much fun last night.”
Rachel closed the door and hurried over, noticing David’s eyes were sleepy, narrow slits. “Let’s go,” she said, blowing past him, reaching for the back door, opening it and ducking inside.
Zach twisted around, also in uniform, without his tie. “Good morning, Anne,” Zach said, with an apologetic smile. “Sorry we’re late.”
Rachel was all business, her nerves burning her face hot. “Let’s go. Go as fast as you can, Zach,” she said, glancing at her watch. It was already after seven.
David slid into the front seat and closed his door.
“Step on it, Zach. Go!” Rachel called.
David gave Zach a side glance. “I guess Anne’s eager to get into that airplane.”
“Yes, yes. Hurry, Zach! We’ll miss the morning light,” Rachel added.
“Okay, Anne,” Zach said. “You asked for it, and this car will deliver.”
Zach faced ahead, jaw set, slammed the column shift into gear, reversed, and swerved back out onto the road. With a reckless screech of rubber, he shot off.
“As fast as you can, Zach. Just as friggin’ fast as this car will go,” Rachel said, perched up in her seat, her hard eyes fixed ahead.
The Buick sped down the dusty asphalt road, kicking up a cloud of dust behind it as Zach shifted through the gears, navigating the winding back road. “Holy Mackerel, Zach,” David said, with a giddy laugh. “You’re flying. Zero flaps. Gear up. Watch your air speed. Don’t stall her. Take her up to five thousand feet and level off.”
Just as Zach flattened the accelerator and the car shot ahead, they heard a siren. Zach glanced into his rearview mirror and saw the swirling red dome light of a police car.
“Dammit!” Zach yelled. “What the hell is a cop doing out this early? It’s Sunday morning, for Pete’s sake. Give it a rest.”
“Pull over,” David said. “I don’t want to end up in the brig with a bunch of hungover knuckleheads.”
Rachel cursed, shutting her eyes, her hands forming fists.
Zach swerved to the side of the road and stopped. The police car pulled in behind him and a Hawaiian policeman emerged, wearing a navy-blue uniform with a gold badge and a cap, the bill pulled low over his forehead. He strolled up to Zach’s open window and peered in with half-hooded eyes.
“Good morning, Airmen. What’s your hurry?”
Zach glanced up at the cop, squinting into the light of day, allowing his Southern accent to grow. “Good morning, Officer. Gee whiz, I am so sorry. I guess I’m still a little bit groggy and didn’t realize I was driving so fast. It’s a good thing you stopped us, and I thank you.”
The policeman wasn’t charmed. “You’re not in an airplane, sir. Where are you headed?”
“To Wheeler Field, Officer. And, again, I apologize. We’re about to take that young lady in the backseat on her first airplane ride, and I guess I’m just all excited about it. You see, I’m a flight instructor and this is Anne’s first time in Hawaii and the first time she’s ever flown.”
The policeman glanced through the window, saw Rachel, and touched the brim of his cap in acknowledgement. Rachel forced a smile, her pulse thrumming in her neck. Time was running out. She wanted to scream, “Let’s go!” but she held her smile—though her body was on fire with impatience.
The policeman returned his attention to Zach. “All right, you go on about your business, Airman, but please don’t go speeding along these roads. There are people out walking, and soldiers like to race their cars along here. Had a soldier plow into a tree just last week. You be careful now.”
“Yes, Officer, I definitely will, and thank you.”
The policeman smiled at Rachel. “And take good care of your passenger up there in that airplane and give her a good first ride.”
As they waited for the policeman to return to his car and drive away, Rachel checked her watch. It was 7:25! She felt like a racehorse poised to burst from the starting gate.
“Let’s go, Zach!” she called out.
“I’ve got to take it slow, Anne. Relax. We’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
When they reached the security gate at Wheeler, it was nearly 7:40, just minutes before the Japanese were going to attack.
Zach and David presented their security cards to the uniformed guard, and then Zach said, “The lady’s with me. May we have a temporary day pass? Her name is Anne Fowler.”
Rachel stayed silent. Her Visitor Pass had the name Rachel Hunt printed on it.
The guard nodded and took his time scribbling out Anne Fowler’s name and then rubber stamping the card with a time-date stamp.
Rachel sat up, every sense acute, as she anxiously gazed up into the clear Hawaiian Sunday skies. “How long will it take to prepare the airplane?” Rachel asked.
David said, “If we take the B-18 Bolo, about a half hour.”
As they passed through the security gate, Rachel lowered her head in defeat and whispered, “Too late.”
“Not long now, Anne,” David said. “The plane’s over there in hangar two.”
As the car approached the parking lot, Rachel saw a single-engine airplane race down the runway and lift into the skies. Since it was Sunday, Zach easily found a parking spot and shut off the engine.
David swiveled around, his grin wide. “Okay, Anne. We’ll get you suited up and fly off into the wild blue yonder.”
Rachel glanced at her watch. It was 7:52.
Outside, the three of them started for the hangar when Rachel stopped. They halted and turned to her. She focused her hard eyes on both men, inhaled a sharp breath, and said in a somber voice, “Listen to me. Any minute now, over 180 Japanese planes are going to attack. Their goal is to bomb Pearl Harbor. We need to warn people and take cover, and we need to do it now.”
David and Zach exchanged a puzzled glance before shifting their worried eyes back to Rachel.
“Anne?” David said, softly. “Anne, are you okay? There’s nothing to be scared of. We’re both good pilots.”
Zach put his hands on his hips, seeing the terror in Anne’s eyes. “Anne…What’s the matter? What the hell are you talking about? Japanese planes?”
CHAPTER 46
They heard a low rumble, like the roaring waves of the sea, and it swelled, and it raised the hair on Rachel’s arms and on the back of her neck. David and Zach glanced up, shading their eyes with their hands, squinting. Rachel took two steps forward, facing the horizon, her eyes straining to focus. She saw dark specks approaching, and she swallowed, tasting metallic fear.
“What the hell?” David said.
Both men shot Rachel a stunned glance, then returned their gazes to the sky.
“Over there!” Zach pointed. “See them. Over there. They’re coming from the north.”
“Are they ours?” David asked, his voice tense. “I mean, there’s more than a squadron. They must be ours. From Hickam. They’ve got to be coming from Hickam.”
David snapped a look at Rachel, his face white with shock, his eyes wide open, searching her face for an answer. Any answer.
“I don’t think ours would be coming from the north,” Zach said, still focused on the deep blue sky that was filled with airplanes approaching fast, their low-throated engines growling.
Mechanics in overalls and caps emerged from the hangars, and from storage warehouses, gazing up.
The whistling sound of a bomb froze Rachel to the spot, and she watched in horror as it struck fuel storage tanks and refueling stations at the far end of the field. An explosion of fire and smoke shot into the air, the force of the explosion nearly knocking her flat.
In an instant, a Zero bore down on the field. A burst of machine gun fire hammered into the fuselages of three P-40s, and they burst into flames.
David recognized the red “meatballs” on the silver wings as it flew over: a Japanese Zero, emblazoned with the nation’s “Rising Sun” disk.
“They’re Zeros!” David shouted. “They’re Japanese Zeros!”
David turned to Zach in alarm. “This is the real McCoy, David. This is it. The real McCoy!”
The high-pitched whine of bullets cutting through the air was followed by the sharp crack of gunfire hitting metal.
“Hit the deck!” Zach called.
Sparks flew as bullets ricocheted off the hangar, sending Rachel, Zach, and David diving for cover behind a stack of crates. The Japanese planes released their bombs, and the explosions sent shockwaves through the ground, shaking the hangar.
Rachel saw two Zeros swoop in, strafing the airfield. Airmen scattered and then dove to the ground. The tarmac was a frenzy of airmen and crew scattering in every direction as Zeros roared overhead, machine guns blasting.
Rachel glanced up to see a Zero flying so low that she could see the pilot, in his leather helmet and goggles, grin and wave as he zoomed past.
The sky bristled with Zeros and bombers, circling in figure eights like birds of prey, waiting their turn to swoop down. The air defense alarm blasted on, and within seconds, the barracks emptied. Men scrambled outside, gazing up, some still in their underwear. A swarm of airplanes attacked, skimming the airfield, machine guns firing, bombs falling.
Airplane hangars were blown to pieces, automobiles exploded into flames. The infirmary took a bomb hit, and sections of the roof caved in, flames licking at the edges, threatening to engulf the entire building.
As fighters banked and dived toward the shocked and horrified men, machine guns blazing, the soldiers hit the ground or scrambled for the cover of the barracks.
The sky above was a tapestry of smoke trails and flashing gunfire, the once peaceful airfield now a battleground.
A bomb struck the warehouse, and great plumes of smoke billowed up into the blue sky, turning it black.
David and Zach watched in horror as Zeros targeted the airplanes. Machine-gun bullets ricocheted off walls, and bombs shattered the P-40s and the P-36s as if they were toys smashed by a giant.
Rachel heard men screaming, saw bodies engulfed in flames, and heard the fury of the antiaircraft guns on the far end of the field shooting volley after volley of antiaircraft fire, the shells bursting into puffs of black smoke. She saw a Zero take a hit. Its engine trailed smoke, then it caught fire and exploded into shards, fiery fingers streaming down.
She heard twisted metal screech; heard the whine of airplane engines crisscrossing the field; heard machine-gun bullets ringing out; heard gunfire coming from one of the remaining hangars, where soldiers inside returned fire. It was all so loud she thought her eardrums would burst.
