cherry trees for military barriers. Now that these things have occurred, I will call together the ten elders, and we will vote again on whether to unleash the Bushido from their vow of non-resistance.”
“Good. How many Bushido are there?”
“Forty-seven—same as the number of Ronin. A good number, yes?”
“It will help,” Rock said, “and with the element of surprise, it might be possible to overwhelm Killov. But how can you hold this meeting under the Soviet’s noses?”
“Right here—in the cavern—tonight. The council members are all stooped old men with wispy beards, like myself. We are so old and decrepid—” Chimura laughed—“that they let us come and go, shouting our poetry like Basho! The Russians laugh at us and let us pass. We will meet tonight, and I think the council of elders will allow the Bushidos to join your attack on Killov. I shall raise the red dragon flag atop my house—the council will come.”
Fifteen
R ockson was very grateful that the Freefighters had managed to keep hold of three of the little submicrowave belt radios. One radio was aboard each of the ships. He had the third and used his device to call Chen aboard the Dragon. Chen was briefed about what had happened so far and what the landing team had accomplished. Rock ordered, “Get everyone except skeleton crews for the ships here at once—Leilani too. The fisherman will set you on the right path.”
Rockson gave standing orders for the crews of the two ships to sail at the first sign of the attack beginning. The ships would come around the island and evacuate the team, once they had blown the crystal from the tower. That was the objective.
Just before dawn, the Doomsday Warrior, watching from a rear slit window in Chimura’s house, saw Chen and the others coming down the pumice hill toward the compound.
The newly arriving Freefighters and their Polynesian tribesman allies were led through the house and down into the cavern where a general meeting was being held.
Rock presided, saying, “Shortly the eight-man council of this burg will meet. Chimura promises they will allow a group of their samurai called the Bushido to assist us. My plan is to spend a day here once the Bushido arrives to run through attack plans. Whatever mode of attack we devise, it has to result in using our explosives to blow the crystal to pieces. If the explosion doesn’t destroy it, the thousand-foot fall will. There’s some stored food and a lavatory in the adjoining chamber. Make yourselves at home. There’s an extra pair of torches on the wall.”
There was obviously a great lack of enthusiasm. McCaughlin went over and picked up one of the unlit torches, ignited it with a match and held it high. “Give me your tired, your poor muddled asses, yearning to breathe free.”
It broke the ice. Everybody laughed, and the palpable gloom lifted.
Detroit spoke up, “Even with forty-seven more men, we’re outnumbered nearly ten to one. The power for the crystal comes from the conduits in the lava lands. Why can’t we simply blow them up and get the hell off this island?”
“There are a hundred power pipes, Detroit. If we blow them, more can be constructed in a few days. The source of power is the island’s volcanic core. That can’t be destroyed. Besides, the crystal has been storing power; that’s how it works. No, unless the crystal is destroyed, we will fail to stop Killov.”
They all were startled when the stone door creaked open and Chimura, holding a yellowish lantern, descended to join them. “The council is in my house,” he reported. “We have all agreed. You may have the Bushido. But there is bad news. The Bushido leader Morimoto has been imprisoned. We don’t know where he is. The Soviets have several detention buildings throughout the city. The Bushido will be hard to round up without Morimoto’s help, but we of the council will try. It could take days.”
Rockson was sickened by the news. Without the Bushido’s
“Good. How many Bushido are there?”
“Forty-seven—same as the number of Ronin. A good number, yes?”
“It will help,” Rock said, “and with the element of surprise, it might be possible to overwhelm Killov. But how can you hold this meeting under the Soviet’s noses?”
“Right here—in the cavern—tonight. The council members are all stooped old men with wispy beards, like myself. We are so old and decrepid—” Chimura laughed—“that they let us come and go, shouting our poetry like Basho! The Russians laugh at us and let us pass. We will meet tonight, and I think the council of elders will allow the Bushidos to join your attack on Killov. I shall raise the red dragon flag atop my house—the council will come.”
Fifteen
R ockson was very grateful that the Freefighters had managed to keep hold of three of the little submicrowave belt radios. One radio was aboard each of the ships. He had the third and used his device to call Chen aboard the Dragon. Chen was briefed about what had happened so far and what the landing team had accomplished. Rock ordered, “Get everyone except skeleton crews for the ships here at once—Leilani too. The fisherman will set you on the right path.”
Rockson gave standing orders for the crews of the two ships to sail at the first sign of the attack beginning. The ships would come around the island and evacuate the team, once they had blown the crystal from the tower. That was the objective.
Just before dawn, the Doomsday Warrior, watching from a rear slit window in Chimura’s house, saw Chen and the others coming down the pumice hill toward the compound.
The newly arriving Freefighters and their Polynesian tribesman allies were led through the house and down into the cavern where a general meeting was being held.
Rock presided, saying, “Shortly the eight-man council of this burg will meet. Chimura promises they will allow a group of their samurai called the Bushido to assist us. My plan is to spend a day here once the Bushido arrives to run through attack plans. Whatever mode of attack we devise, it has to result in using our explosives to blow the crystal to pieces. If the explosion doesn’t destroy it, the thousand-foot fall will. There’s some stored food and a lavatory in the adjoining chamber. Make yourselves at home. There’s an extra pair of torches on the wall.”
There was obviously a great lack of enthusiasm. McCaughlin went over and picked up one of the unlit torches, ignited it with a match and held it high. “Give me your tired, your poor muddled asses, yearning to breathe free.”
It broke the ice. Everybody laughed, and the palpable gloom lifted.
Detroit spoke up, “Even with forty-seven more men, we’re outnumbered nearly ten to one. The power for the crystal comes from the conduits in the lava lands. Why can’t we simply blow them up and get the hell off this island?”
“There are a hundred power pipes, Detroit. If we blow them, more can be constructed in a few days. The source of power is the island’s volcanic core. That can’t be destroyed. Besides, the crystal has been storing power; that’s how it works. No, unless the crystal is destroyed, we will fail to stop Killov.”
They all were startled when the stone door creaked open and Chimura, holding a yellowish lantern, descended to join them. “The council is in my house,” he reported. “We have all agreed. You may have the Bushido. But there is bad news. The Bushido leader Morimoto has been imprisoned. We don’t know where he is. The Soviets have several detention buildings throughout the city. The Bushido will be hard to round up without Morimoto’s help, but we of the council will try. It could take days.”
Rockson was sickened by the news. Without the Bushido’s
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