Rising Sniper: A World War II Thriller (Pacific Sniper Book 2) by David Healey

Author:David Healey
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Intracoastal
Published: 2022-04-11T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

NOT LONG AFTER FIRST LIGHT, Ikeda was leading a reconnaissance patrol on the beach. He found that it kept him and the men sharp, giving them a little exercise away from the hill. He got tired of all the fresh dirt and concrete. The greenery of the forest or the sandy beach was a welcome change of scenery.

In fact, so much attention had been focused on the hill and its defense that it was almost possible to forget that there was far more to the island.

Ikeda breathed in the fresh salt air, enjoying the feel of the sea breeze on his face. What man did not feel energized by the start of a new day? The sun was rising, a big red ball of fire coming out of the Pacific, but the heat of the day was not yet present. There was nothing so glorious as a Pacific sunrise. Later on, they would swelter in that heat, but for now, the rising sun was a thing of beauty, a reminder of Japan itself.

They walked on, some of the men talking quietly in hushed tones. Ikeda permitted it—on the beach, out in the open, there was not much worry about giving away their position, was there? The Filipino guerrillas were not much threat to an armed patrol. As for the Americans, all reports indicated that they must still be many thousands of miles away.

Up ahead, though, something didn’t look right in the sand. The smooth surface of the beach had been disturbed. Moving closer, he could see that several sets of footsteps led from the water, across the beach, and disappeared into the fringe of forest beyond the sand.

“Sir?”

“I see it,” Ikeda said.

Instantly, he was on alert, the sniper rifle gripped tightly in his hands. The men sensed that something wasn’t right and looked around them, but what was there to see but more beach, surf, and sand? Whoever had made those tracks was long gone, the tide having erased many of the tracks.

Ikeda bent closer to examine the marks. He was puzzled as to why the tracks only led away from the sea, as if whoever had left them had materialized out of the water. Also, most of the tracks showed footsteps that were fairly large, sunk deep into the sand. These marks had been left by big men—bigger than the average Japanese soldier or Filipino laborer, at least.

Slowly, a realization began to sink in for Ikeda. The morning calm that he had been experiencing had vanished. If these were not Japanese tracks, or Filipino tracks, then that left one possibility.

Enemy soldiers had landed on this beach and made their way into the jungle at the base of the hill.

This was the only explanation that Ikeda could think of for the tracks on the beach, which clearly showed an organized team had landed here. There had been warnings of commando raids. At long last, those warnings appeared to have come true.

Reluctantly, he dismissed the idea of following the tracks. He would have liked nothing better than to hunt down the invaders and put his rifle to use.

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