The two nurses were survivors of a group of at least a dozen captured when Schofield had been overrun. All had been gang-raped, but the two had been chosen to survive while the others had their throats cut.

The two survivors had then watched while fifty American POWs were selected at random from a holding pen and decapitated. The message the two brutalized nurses delivered was very simple. If General Short did not surrender, ten Americans would be executed every hour that went past the deadline. Also, there would be no protection for the civilian population. General Tadoyashi was explicit on this point. If there was no surrender, he would turn the 38th Division loose on Honolulu as he had on Hong Kong in an orgy of raping and looting.

“I’m still waiting for my answer,” Roosevelt said. “Do we have a choice? For God’s sake, if there is, tell me!”

“There is none,” King answered. “I recommend surrender.”

“As do I,” Marshall said, and the two secretaries nodded agreement.

“General Short is required to surrender the entire Hawaiian archipelago,” Marshall added, “and that includes Midway.”

Roosevelt shrugged. Midway was an island base over a thousand miles north and west of Hawaii proper. Its presence on the archipelago was a geographic quirk.

“What do we have there?” the president asked.

“Nothing anymore,” King said. “We’d hoped to use it as a forward and unsinkable aircraft carrier, but the invasion of Oahu outflanked it and made it irrelevant. We evacuated the last of the personnel a day or two ago. The Japs’ll get a couple of empty islands and a fairly usable airfield if they want it, but Midway is no longer of any importance.”

“Then let them have it too,” Roosevelt snapped. “At least tell me that Magic is safe.”

“We’ve taken steps to ensure that it is,” Marshall said.

“That’s not quite a yes,” Roosevelt muttered. “But I guess it’ll do for the time being.”

King was anxious to get back to his office. “Will that be all, sir?”

The president smiled, but it was an expression devoid of all happiness. “No. I have one more task for both you and General Marshall. I told you I want the islands back. When can you do it?”

King hid his surprise. “As I said before, by the end of 1943 we’ll be strong enough to take on the Jap navy.”

“As will the army,” Marshall said. “But it may mean deferring some actions in Europe.”

“This year,” Roosevelt said. “By the end of summer.”

“Impossible,” King said, and Marshall concurred.

“That is your assignment, gentlemen,” the president said. “If you can’t do it, I’ll find someone who can. I will not abide having nearly four hundred thousand Americans under the Japanese heel. I want you to be creative and clever. I want you to do whatever terrible things you must to mount a successful operation, but you must succeed. I want those islands back.”

“Yes, sir,” they chorused.

King stole a glance at Marshall, who looked away. There was only the faintest chance that they could muster enough strength to take back Hawaii. However, they might be able to hurt the Japs, or at least let them know that America wasn’t dead and buried. Yes, thought King. They could do at least that much.

“One other thing,” said Roosevelt. “Just don’t give away the secret to Magic.”

This time the terrible silence was broken by the sounds of marching feet and the music of an approaching military band. Incredibly it sounded like something by Sousa.

The military portion of the surrender was complete. The Japanese occupied Pearl Harbor and other facilities, and the American prisoners of war had been marched off in long, grim lines to camps that were being built near Wheeler and Schofield, in the center of the island.

Now it remained for the Japanese to take possession of the civilian portions of the city.

By the time the parade reached Honolulu’s McKinley High School, the crowd of spectators had grown to several thousand people of all ethnic backgrounds. Alexa estimated the Japanese military contingent at several hundred small and grim-faced men with bayoneted rifles on their shoulders. The rifles were long and looked like oversize toys being held by children. But the soldiers weren’t children. They were the conquerors. Despite everyone’s fears, the Japanese had lived up to at least one part of their bargain: They had not turned their army loose. Discipline had been good, and fears of atrocities were diminishing. So far.

“They don’t look so great, do they?” Melissa said softly. “Kind of like houseboys in uniforms.”

Alexa agreed that they did not look frightening at all. How had they defeated the American army on Hawaii so completely and with such apparent ease?

An English-speaking officer came forward and announced that this was one of several flag-raising ceremonies that were taking place and would signify the Japanese occupation of the islands. The flagpole in front of the school was empty. The American flag had long since disappeared. The Japanese would not be able to stomp on it and desecrate it.

The Japanese officer stated that newspapers would soon publish a complete list of rules and regulations, but he would summarize some of the more important ones.

First, all adult males over the age of sixteen were to report to special locations for the purpose of forming work gangs to repair the damage caused by the fighting. Failure to show, he added, was punishable by death. Alexa thought this order would help the Japanese round up strays from the military who were trying to hide in the civilian population. She wondered if that included Jake.

Second, all women and children were to be occupied in the growing of food. With that, Alexa agreed heartily. Food shortages were getting worse.

Third, hoarding was punishable by death. Alexa gasped. Did that include the cache of rations under her house?

Fourth, all civilians would bow to Japanese soldiers regardless of rank. There would be instructions on how to bow correctly, but it would be at a fifteen-degree angle and would be held to a count of five. When a man in the front of the crowd laughed, the officer made a quick signal and soldiers dragged him away and, while a woman screamed, ran a bayonet through the meat of each of his thighs.

“Next person who laughs, dies!” the Japanese officer yelled while the man writhed in bloody agony on the ground. With a nod he allowed the man to be taken away by his friends, leaving behind a bright red pool of blood and a throng of people shocked to silence.

At another signal, the band began playing a slow, stately melody. To Alexa’s surprise, the Japanese soldiers joined in and sang with enthusiasm and reverence. When it was over the officer told them that this was the Japanese anthem, the Kimigayo.

“In the future,” the officer concluded, “you will stand and show reverence when you hear this melody as you did for ‘The Star-Spangled Banner.’ This is your new anthem. You will respect it.”

The climb through the thickly shrubbed and heavily wooded hills of the island of Hawaii was more tedious than arduous, and it took Jake and his men a couple of days to reach their objective.

When they did, a handful of tattered sailors greeted them with enthusiasm and relief. It was obvious they’d never expected to be found by anyone. After checking on those who were lightly wounded, Jake got on with his task.

“Now, where’s your boss?” he asked, and several sailors directed him to a path that led up a hill.

“But no one’s allowed up there, sir,” one young ensign said and stood before him, blocking the path.

Jake grunted something vulgar and pushed past the man. He had gone only a couple of hundred yards when he came to a decrepit shack. Thinking that the situation was totally incongruous, he knocked on the door. After a moment, it opened and a disheveled and exhausted looking man Jake guessed to be in his mid-forties stood before him.