Chameleons, a Novel Based Upon Actual Events Read online

  A special thank-you to my editors:

  Major Robert Bauman (USAF-retired)

  and

  Susanne C. Johnson, M.A.

  “Every morning we are born again. What we do today is what matters most.

  Nothing ever exists entirely alone; everything is in relation to everything else.

  Every human being is the author of his own health or disease.

  If you are facing in the right direction, all you need to do is keep on walking.” Gautama Buddha

  Copyright Marcus Nannini, 2016

  ISBN: 0692814353

  ISBN 13: 9780692814352

  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CONTROL NUMBER: 2016920544

  Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  CHAPTER ONE

  PEARL HARBOR, OAHU

  DECEMBER 7, 1941

  Imperial Japanese Navy midget submarine, the I-16-tou, hides in the muddy bottom of Pearl Harbor. A few hundred yards ahead seven first-line battleships comprising the nucleus of the United States’ power in the Pacific rest quietly at anchor.

  The midget sub’s commander, Lieutenant, junior grade, Masaharu Yokoyama is stripped to his waist with sweat dripping from every pore of his body in the one hundred twenty five degree temperature. He sleeps restlessly. The iron hull upon which he is leaning bleeds drops of water. A few feet away the sub’s engineer, Sadamu Kamita, stripped to his loin cloth, his forehead resting on a control panel, also sleeps. The only sound in the dimly lighted iron tube is the low humming of the ventilation system.

  Yokoyama is considered to be among the brightest of the first class of Imperial Japanese Navy midget submarine commanders. As a result, he has been rewarded the honor of being released from his mother submarine closer to the entrance of Pearl Harbor than the remaining four midget submarines. He is a quick thinker and charismatic. One of his superiors said he has an angelic smile that can immediately disarm otherwise confrontational situations. He is also a first-rate student and has studied every detail of the proposed Pearl Harbor attack along with the geographical features of Pearl Harbor and Oahu. He has memorized the names and contact information of various Japanese sympathizers upon whom he may rely in the event of the need to scuttle his sub.

  Their sleep is abruptly ended by the shock waves of the first torpedo strikes. The surprise Japanese air attack on Pearl Harbor has begun. Yokoyama stands, wipes the sweat from his eyes and shouts:

  “Kamita! Quickly, make turns for five knots and bring us to periscope depth.”

  Kamita, a few years older than Yokoyama and considered one of the finest of the midget sub engineers, picks up his head as he feels the vibrations of the explosions coming through the hull. Before the orders are even spoken he begins to discharge ballast and re-start the electric motor. He does not even glance at Yokoyama as he firmly replies:

  “Aye, Sir, five knots, periscope depth.”

  It’s not long when Kamita calls out, “Periscope depth!”

  Yokoyama grabs the handles of the periscope as it slides into place and presses his forehead against the moist rubber edges of the viewer. Moving from left to right he takes in the length of battleship row then lowers the periscope and turns towards Kamita.

  “Prepare for firing torpedoes!”

  “Aye, torpedoes are ready for firing.” Kamita’s tone is calm and collected.

  “The West Virginia and Oklahoma directly in our path. I will confirm our firing solution and strike the West Virginia, just aft of amidships. We will target the Oklahoma second. The effect of firing the first torpedo should place the port bow of the Oklahoma nearly dead-center for torpedo two.” Yokoyama closes his eyes momentarily as he envisions the path of the second torpedo.

  “Sir, if the Emperor could know of our situation he would most certainly be smiling,” says Kamita.

  Yokoyama does not respond as he has returned to the newly raised periscope. He makes a final calculation of his firing solution, lowers the periscope and turns to Kamita.

  “Fire one!”

  As Kamita lets the one thousand pound torpedo loose he replies, “Firing torpedo one!”

  The little submarine violently lurches fore and aft in response to the sudden discharge of the torpedo and corresponding weight loss. After many months of practice they both know firing their second torpedo at this time will veer left of the original target, but in this event, unlike the practice runs, the battleship Oklahoma lies in its path. Precious moments pass as the submarine begins to stabilize.

  “Raising periscope!” As the periscope slides into position Yokoyama checks the firing solution for his second target, the Oklahoma now slightly listing to port. As the periscope lowers he shouts:

  “Fire two!”

  “Firing torpedo two!” Kamita, no longer able to disguise his excitement, shouts his reply.

  Again, the little sub lurches even more violently than upon firing the first torpedo as it is now two thousand pounds lighter. Kamita loses his grip and bangs his head against a control panel, opening a gouge above his right eye. He grabs his uniform shirt hanging nearby and presses it against the wound.

  Yokoyama stares at his stop-watch as he times the first torpedo.

  “Our venom is in the water. Now we wait.” Yokoyama’s voice is just above a whisper.

  The seconds pass and frowning, he continues: “Our first torpedo malfunctioned! It certainly could not have missed as I witnessed the propeller trail steering directly at the West Virginia.”

  “It cannot be,” cries Kamita, his voice full of anguish.

  Yokoyama continues to stare at the stop-watch. He raises his free hand and calls out:

  “Now, Kamita, it should strike now!”

  No sooner are the words spoken than the little sub shudders as the concussion of torpedo number two pushes them fore and aft, up then down, as if they are on a roller coaster. As soon as the sub settles, Yokoyama decides it’s time to assess their success.

  “Raising periscope.” Yokoyama’s voice reveals only modest excitement.

  As he presses his forehead into the viewer he witnesses the result of his torpedo strike. A thirty eight foot hole straight through the protective torpedo belt of the Oklahoma has been opened in her port side dramatically increasing the doomed ship’s list to port. He observes little white bodies. Some are scrambling to crawl along the hull of the capsizing ship to the relative safety of the ship’s bottom while others are jumping into the water. In a matter of moments he is viewing one of the once-mighty Oklahoma’s propellers jutting from the oil-covered surface of the harbor.

  Without saying a word, he lowers the periscope. Both men say nothing as they contemplate the fate of the sailors aboard the battleship they just sunk.

  CHAPTER TWO

  KAILUA, OAHU

  PRESENT DAY

  It’s a typically beautiful April morning on the Oahu coast. Surfers are riding waves while snorkelers are bobbing on the ocean’s blue-green surface, just off a hidden sandbar. A group of young children are busy making sand castles on a pristine beach that stretches out in the form of an arched curve for over a mile. Only a few yards away from the beach, just beyond a stately row of Royal palm trees is the backyard of the locally popular “Auntie” Lee. She is well known for her senbei rice crackers, white pineapple plants and her many papaya, lemon and tropical fruit trees.

  Auntie Lee is a diminutive lady, standing only about five feet tall and weighs, maybe, one hundred ten pounds if she’s holding her purse and wearing slippers. This morning her shining grey hair is pulled back into a braid which extends to her ankles. If she didn’t tuck a piece of the braid into her dress pocket her hair would trail
onto the ground behind her.

  Auntie Lee is perched on her lanai watching a crew of two well-tanned workers excavating her new back-yard pool. She’s also keeping a wary eye on a gathering of neighborhood children lingering near the edge of her yard. The children are watching the construction while also eyeing the tantalizingly ripe papayas hanging just over their heads.

  Akoni, a slender, curly-haired Hawaiian standing deep in the excavation is guiding Danny as he operates the back-hoe. Suddenly Akoni throws both his arms up in the air.

  “Stop! Stop! Danny, hold it up, brah, there’s somethin’ down dere!” Danny turns off the tractor and peers around the upright shovel as he strains to see what’s the problem.

  Akoni’s pointing at the ground. “Lookit dat! Lookit dat!” Akoni’s hard hat flies off his head as he excitedly motions for Danny to join him.

  Akoni’s actions also draw the children closer to the excavation, as the papayas no longer seem as important to them. Auntie Lee stands, but remains in the cool shade of the lanai.

  Danny, a huge, dark skinned Hawaiian slowly climbs out of the tractor and works his way into the excavation. By the time he reaches Akoni he’s down on his knees digging with his gloved hands. At first Danny can’t quite see what he’s digging, but then he spots the unmistakable outline of a pistol gripped in the bony hands of a partially unearthed skeleton.

  “Don’t touch dat gun Akoni! It might be loaded.” Akoni stops in mid-motion as Danny plops down alongside him and lays a hand on Akoni’s shoulder.

  “Think anyone’s seen da gun?” Danny whispers. They both look over at the children, one of whom is taking photos with her cell phone. Danny shakes his head as he realizes there’s no way to keep this secret.

  “Akoni, da boss’s going ta blow a valve when he hears ‘bout dis. We’re way behind schedule.” Danny pauses as he glances at the kids. “Guess we got no choice. Have ta call in da cops. Crap!” No doubt in Danny’s way of thinking the preferred course of action would be to quietly dispose of their discovery and continue excavating.

  Danny casts a scarily angry look at the kids, causing them to run off in the direction of the beach. The two men pick their way out of the excavation, leaving their finding intact, and casually walk to the lanai where Auntie Lee is impatiently waiting to learn what’s going on.

  As they approach, she calls out to them: “Would you like some nice senbei and iced tea?" In Auntie Lee’s opinion a chance to put together refreshments for any manner of guest is never to be missed.

  Danny and Akoni look at each other and shrug their shoulders. Danny answers, “Danks Auntie, dat sounds like da bomb!”

  “Oh, and Auntie, can we borrow your phone? We gotta call da boss.” Danny appears sheepish as he explains, “We can’t bring our cell phones to work anymore ‘cause he says they could make us have an accident. He says da two of us are accidents waitin’ ta happen, so no cell phones!”

  Auntie Lee is already walking back into her house, but pauses just long enough to respond; "No worries Danny, I shall get you my phone. It cannot cause you to have an accident." She quickly disappears and soon emerges with a plate of freshly made senbei crackers and two glasses of iced tea which she places on the lanai table. Without saying a word she flips around and scoots back into the house. Moments later she reappears and hands him her cordless phone, which resembles a World War II walkie-talkie.

  “I don’t understand the problem. What did you find out there?”

  He gives the phone a quizzical once over. “Sorry Auntie, dere’s a skeleton in da pool and dere’s a gun too so we need ta call da cops.”

  “Oh my! Who would do that?” Auntie Lee frowns, shakes her head back and forth and slowly wanders towards the excavation while Danny dials their boss.

  “Listen boss, dis is Danny, me and Akoni just dug up a skeleton wid a gun. ‘Fraid we gotta stop ‘til the cops get it outta dere.”

  Akoni can hear the entire conversation as he gulps down a handful of senbei. He longingly glances at the excavation as he considers returning for the gun and perhaps selling it at Colonel Nat’s surplus store.

  “No Boss, we didn’t call da cops yet. I’m calling you!” He sounds flustered as his boss is screaming so loudly even Akoni can hear him.

  “Yeah boss, I’ll call dem now. You want we should wait for ‘em?” Obviously upset, he shakes his head back and forth as he disconnects the phone. After a brief pause his frustration turns to happiness with the realization they have the rest of the day off.

  “Akoni! Good news! We got da day off! Just gotta call da cops and den we can get outta here right fast.”

  Akoni greets the news with a huge smile. “Danny, let’s cut out ta my boat and see what we can catch for dinnah tonight! Dere’s plenty of ‘ono fishing time left!”

  “What? You’re stopping work?” A very stern looking Auntie Lee, standing about half way between the excavation and the lanai is staring at them, hands on her hips. “You know my grandson is graduating high school next month and I need this pool finished! Can’t you just dig around that skeleton?” The harsh tone of her voice slightly unsettles the two men.

  “Sorry Auntie.” Danny feels a bit guilty, but knows there’s nothing he can do. “Boss says we can’t work till da cops get dat body outta dere. Can’t argue with da boss! So we goin’ fishin’. We’ll bring you some ahi or ‘ono filets when we get back. But right now, we got ta do what da boss says we got ta do.” Danny shrugs his shoulders. Akoni, who is busy shoveling another senbei into his mouth, can only shake his head in agreement while Danny dutifully reports the incident to the police before returning the phone to a very dejected Auntie Lee.

  Phone in hand she watches as they slowly disappear around the side of the house. Now alone, she returns to her kitchen quietly mumbling minor curse words to herself in Japanese.

  Two hours later the police have not yet arrived and curiosity is finally getting the best of her. She’s been sitting on her lanai the entire time. Patiently sitting, waiting and fretting.

  “That’s it! I’m going to see what’s causing such a commotion!”

  She hurriedly rises from her chair and looks around the yard to be certain nobody is watching. The neighborhood children are long gone, along with some of her papayas. Confident she’s alone she quickly walks to the edge of the excavation and navigates her way down the gently sloping work-site to where Danny has placed an orange stake for the police. She notices the head and chest of a skeleton poking through the dirt and spots the pistol, but her attention quickly focuses on a fancy handle that is just barely poking through the ground several inches below the pistol.

  Without giving it a thought she rushes the final few feet between her and the skeleton. Despite her long dress and without thinking about the likely red clay stain which will result, she drops to her knees. She begins digging around the handle and soon the blade of a heavily tarnished sword is exposed. Though in poor condition, it reminds her of a sword her grandfather once hung on the wall of his personal Shinto altar.

  “I am going to take this into the house and clean it up!” Auntie Lee pauses as she realizes she might have been overheard. Looking around the yard, she confirms she’s still alone.

  “Nobody here, so nobody to know. Besides, I don’t want this sacred sword to get ruined when they come for the body.” She verbally rationalizes her theft, takes a final look around before she carefully pulls the sword from the earth and covers it with her dress. She hastily picks her way out of the excavation, scoots across her backyard and bursts into the kitchen.

  She’s looking around for a good place to clean the sword when the doorbell rings. Alarmed, she drops the sword on the floor and runs to the front door to find two detectives waiting, each holding his badge up for her examination. She partially opens the door and slips into the opening between the door and the frame.

  “Good afternoon, Ma’am. I’m Detective Kane,” he points toward a second detective, “and this is my partner Ooha. Are you Leilani Yamada?” Ooha
, who is always quick to smile, grins widely.

  Kane is tall, very well-tanned, has a muscular build and short, dark hair. He is very neatly dressed in a solid, dark blue shirt and black trousers and Auntie Lee finds him to be good looking. She greets Kane with a big smile, but then she looks over at Ooha and frowns. His skin is deeply tanned and his strong physic is clearly visible through his floral-print Hawaiian shirt. She looks over his black pants and decides they are too tight. He is native Hawaiian and sports longish, black hair. He reminds her too much of one of her grandsons who spends all his time surfing rather than attending school and decides she will talk to Kane and angles her body so as to be looking at him and not at Ooha.

  “I have been waiting for you young man! There is a nasty skeleton in my swimming pool and I need it out of there right away!” Her voice softens as she notices Kane’s pained look. “I know it is not your fault and, please, I prefer to be called Auntie.”

  The detectives glance at each other as they wonder how a skeleton winds up in the swimming pool of an elderly woman.

  “Auntie, why do you think someone would throw a skeleton into your pool?” Kane’s voice is calm and assuring.

  Auntie Lee bursts into laughter. The sudden outburst from such a diminutive lady takes the detectives by surprise.

  “No, no! The pool is not finished.” Auntie Lee is laughing so hard she needs to pause and regain her breath. The two detectives quickly glance at each other with the thought that perhaps this little lady is not dealing with a full deck.

  “No, the pool is not anywhere close to being finished.” She fights back the continuing urge to laugh. “They are only digging the hole. That is where they found the skeleton. It is still in the ground!” She pauses a moment to think, stares at Kane and points her right index finger directly at his face.