Section 8 by Robert Doherty Page A

crates? And why was the colonel hiding them even from his own people?

They climbed up out of the stream bed, and the double track trail was in front of them. Abayon signaled to Moreno, and the two took up hidden positions alongside the rutted track. After several minutes the Japanese colonel appeared, hooking up the detonator to fused charges he'd placed on a half-dozen trees spaced out along the way. He did the last one less than one hundred meters from their location and unreeled about half the distance in wire before kneeling and pushing the plunger.

The explosion thundered through the jungle, trees from both sides collapsing across the path, making it impassable for vehicles. The dust-covered colonel retrieved as much of the wire as he could, reeling it up, then turned to continue his destructive journey toward the beach and the waiting patrol boat. Abayon had no doubt what the fate of that crew would be once the colonel returned to civilization.

But that was not going to happen.

As the colonel drew even with their position, Abayon gave Moreno the signal. The two men leapt out of the brush and overwhelmed him as he hooked up the wire to a charge on a tree opposite their location. They had him pinned to the ground within a second, Abayon tying the man's hands securely behind his back. The colonel struggled and fought, but the two guerrillas were too much for him.

Abayon rolled the Japanese over on his back as he unbuckled the samurai sword from around the officer's waist. The colonel kicked out, catching Moreno in the stomach, doubling him over. Abayon drew the sword and placed the point against the man's chest.

"Do not move," he ordered.

The colonel glared up at him, but did as ordered. Moreno got to his feet, cursing. He pointed the muzzle of his rifle at the colonel, his finger curling around the trigger.

"Not yet," Abayon ordered his friend.

Instead of a bullet, Moreno spit, the glob splattering on the officer's face.

"Keep him covered," Abayon ordered as he put the sword down and quickly went through the prisoner's pockets.

He drew out a leather wallet that contained identification and papers. "Colonel Tashama," Abayon read. "From the Kempeitai."

Moreno hissed as he heard the name of the infamous military intelligence branch of the Japanese army. They had led the way in rape and torture on the main island.

"What did you put in the mountain?" Abayon asked.

Tashama just glared at him. Abayon stared back, thinking it through. "You are the only one who knows where the entrance to the tunnel is. In fact, who probably even knows what mountain you tunneled into." He knelt down, the edge of the sword resting across Tashama's neck, and smiled. "Except for my friend and I."

Muscles on Tashama's face twitched, but still he remained silent.

"Whatever you buried there must be very important," Abayon continued, "for you to have killed so many of your own men. For you to go to such extreme lengths to keep this place secret." Abayon shrugged. "It does not matter."

Even as Tashama frowned, Abayon drew the blade across the man's neck, the razor-sharp edge easily slicing through skin, cartilage, and arteries. Blood spouted and Tashama gasped, his body spasming as his life poured out of him.

"He could have told us things," Moreno said disapprovingly, his initial rage having subsided.

"He was Kempeitai," Abayon said, wiping the blood off the blade on Tashama's uniform blouse. "He would never have spoken. Besides, we know where the tunnel is. We can find out for ourselves what is in there."

In the years after, Abayon often reflected that Moreno was right, that in immediately killing Tashama, he'd been too rash that day. They could probably have learned more from the man.

In the days that followed, Abayon led a group that swam out to the patrol boat one dark night, slaughtering the sailors on board and scuttling the boat, effectively cutting off any Japanese contact with the island and the tunnel. Then the gathered