"Hideous," whispered Truman.

"It gets worse," Marshall said. "We now believe they will try to hit the West Coast of the United States with germ warfare. They have the capability, and in their current state of desperation, we believe they will make the attempt."

Truman was incredulous. "How? Their navy's sunk and their planes can't reach this far. Do they intend to send germs by balloon like they did the firebombs that were supposed to burn our forests down?"

"No, sir, but not quite all their warships have been sunk. We believe they could use at least one of their remaining large submarines for that purpose. These carry small floatplanes, which could be launched just off California, Oregon, or Washington, and the germs could be dropped from very small bombs or sprayed on a city much like a crop duster sprays a crop. We have no idea how much damage it could cause. Our medical facilities are much better than those in China, where many thousands may have died from germ attacks. Maybe only a few will die, maybe none."

"Panic," Truman said angrily. "If it happens, there'll be a panic and everyone in California will head east in terror-stricken waves. It's insane. It would unleash torrents of hatred that would take an eternity to cool down. Anami's people are fools!"

Truman turned and glared at Grew and Byrnes. "Here's what I want you two gentlemen to do. You will use your neutral-country contacts to tell that son of a bitch Anami that any use of gas or germ warfare will be repaid a hundredfold with gas attacks of our own. Tell him we will use every nuclear bomb we now have and can build against anything that moves in Japan, civilian or military, and that includes Tokyo and Osaka. We will, if necessary, pull our boys from Kyushu and then make sure that everything that lives in Japan is killed."

Truman took a deep breath to control his anger. "You will have them tell Anami that we also have the ability to use chemicals that will destroy their rice crops, and that will ensure that anyone who survives the initial bombs and gas attacks starves to death."

Grew was shocked at Truman's torrent of anger. One point puzzled him. "We have the ability to destroy their food crops?"

Marshall answered. "Not yet, but they don't have to know it. Experiments with plant-killing chemicals are progressing, and it may be a year before they are ready, but it will happen. Very soon we will be able to defoliate Japan. We have been performing a number of experiments at Camp Detrick, Maryland, and the only remaining concern is not wanting to kill civilians along with the crops."

"The hell with the civilians," Truman snapped. "If the Japs use gas or germs, then all restraints are off and everything in Japan is a target."

"The Japs will get the word," Byrnes said grimly.

"Good." Truman relaxed visibly as his fury dissipated. "And the navy will redouble its efforts to stop any germ-bearing sub. Now, General Marshall, I understand there is a bit of good news."

"Yes, sir, we have confirmed that the Jap sub that sank the Indianapolis and the Queen Elizabeth has finally been hunted down and destroyed. The sub was the I-58, and her captain was among a handful of survivors who are now our prisoners."

"Hang the bastard," Byrnes snarled.

Truman managed a grin. "No, Jimmy, the American way is a trial first and then a hanging."

Marshall did not think it was amusing. "His defense will be that he was doing his duty. Both the Indianapolis and the Queen Elizabeth were legitimate military targets, and he will argue that he was doing nothing other than what our own subs did to Jap ships. I'm afraid we may be considering him a monster only because he was so successful. He is also proving quite useful. Like most of the Japanese we've captured, they aren't the slightest bit reluctant about answering every question we put to them. It's ironic, but once they actually do fall into our hands, a lot of them tell us everything they know, almost without our asking. He may even be able to help us stop their plague sub."

Truman accepted the rebuff in silence. Marshall was right. Dammit, Marshall was always right. Hanging the captain of the I-58 was immaterial. He had to keep focused on the task at hand, the ending of the war. He did not want it complicated by some fool launching a gas or germ attack on the United States.

Chapter 66

In the distance, the deep, dark clouds merged with the flat sea, giving the impression of a continuous oneness that was almost frightening in its totality. If he didn't know better, Dennis Chambers thought he could easily confuse the view of sky and sea with that of a definition of eternity.

Bringing himself back to reality, he shitted his weight so that the small rock jabbing his buttock wasn't quite so aggravating. Then he pointed the flashlight out into the void and repeated the signal: one long flash and two short ones. It was the Morse code symbol for the letter!). D, he'd decided, stood for "dark," for the night, or "dumb," for him sitting here and waiting. That it also could've stood for "dead" he ignored.

There would be no response from the sea. The signal was only meant to be seen, not responded to. It would be too easy for someone else onshore to pick up a signal from the sea. Of course, there was always the possibility that a Jap patrol craft would pick up his flashes and make their own inquiries, but that was a chance that Dennis had to take.

Dennis froze. There was the hint of movement on the water. Dark shapes moved closer. They were so quiet and so well hidden that he hadn't detected them until they were almost on top of him. He watched in fascination as the three rafts were beached and their occupants spilled out onto the rocky shore a few yards in front of him. Still silent, they lay prone and formed a skirmish line a few feet from the water's edge. Dennis signaled again, and one shape moved toward him. The man was dressed in black, had dark guck smeared across his face, and carried an automatic grease gun. It was an American, and the sight of the well-armed and deadly-looking newcomer sent chills down Dennis's spine.

"You Joe?" the man hissed.

"I'm Chambers." Nomura was discreetly in hiding, about a hundred yards behind Dennis.

The man leveled his gun at him. "I expected Joe."

"They told you there were two of us, didn't they?"

The man paused and stared at Dennis, fearing a trap. Then he relaxed slightly. Chambers obviously wasn't a Jap, and Chambers was the name of Joe's companion. "What's the capital of North Dakota?"

This was incredible, Dennis thought. A geography test. "Buddy, I have absolutely no fucking idea."

The man lowered his weapon and grinned. "I don't either. Maybe they don't have one. I'm Ensign Billy Swain and this is my team. Now, where the hell is Joe?"

"About a hundred yards behind me and watching us. What do you know about him?"

"Nothing. I was told it was best that I don't."

Nomura had thought it would be that way and Dennis responded, "Joe is Joe Nomura, a Japanese-American OSS agent who's now wearing the uniform of a Jap officer. He also has only one arm, which he lost fighting Nazis in Italy. He thought it would be prudent if I met you first and explained that fact so you wouldn't shoot him on sight and ask questions later."

"Makes sense." Swain passed the word that they would see a Jap and they were not to open fire. Dennis then gave the signal for Joe to emerge. "Jesus H. Christ," Swain exclaimed when he saw Nomura. "Damned good thing you didn't meet us. We'd have shot you and run like hell back to the sub. Now, let's get inland and get our gear hidden."