Read Online Fiends of the Rising Sun by David Bishop - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: David Bishop
Tags: Science-Fiction
Ads: Link
the nature of their individual offences. When possible, specific culprits were singled out as ringleaders. They were subdued with all necessary force. A list of those still receiving medical treatment is appended, as is a summary of the injuries sustained by MPs in the course of this action.
It is suggested that all servicemen be banned from this establishment for the next few weeks, to allow tempers to cool. It seems the incident stemmed from a dispute between marines stationed on Oahu and men of the visiting 200th Coast Artillery. In the view of the fact the latter company is due to depart Honolulu tomorrow, it is believed reprisals are unlikely in the future, but all precautions are being undertaken.
End.
THREE
Walton wasn't sure who threw the first punch that transformed Tokyo Joe's from a peaceful establishment into a miniature warzone, but he suspected Paxton had something to do with it. The two of them and Maeda had stayed in the bar all afternoon, sampling almost every kind of food and drink available. For the first time since joining the marines, Walton found he was relaxing. The sound of waves lapping on the nearby beach blended with the strumming of the resident Hawaiian band in one corner of the bar provided a gentle underscore to the hubbub of happy customers.
Walton knew he could never keep up with Maeda and Paxton's intakes. They were older than him, and knew far more about the ways of the world. So he persuaded Kissy to make sure every second drink he got was unadulterated juice; fruit punch without the punch, so to speak. But his legs still felt as if they'd been replaced by rubber bands when the complaints of his bladder became so urgent they required immediate relief. The young marine got up and staggered, lurching sideways into a neighbouring table where three army recruits were sitting. The nearest of them was a bloated, red-faced slob with thinning hair and a greasy moustache. He sprang to his feet, anger in his eyes and spittle flecking his lips. "Hey, you gonna watch where you're going, or do I have to rip you a new one?"
"Sorry, I'm sorry," Walton slurred, struggling to keep from giggling.
"What, you think this is funny?" his belligerent accuser demanded. The two soldiers with him tried to persuade their angry comrade to calm down. A young Hispanic trooper with a friendly face tugged at his colleague's sleeve.
"Hey, Buntz, there's no need to get mad; he apologised, okay?"
"No, it's not okay, Martinez! And keep your nose out of my business!"
Martinez held his hands in the air, as if surrendering. "Have it your own way if you want, Buntz. I was just saying the kid's said he was sorry."
"That's right," Walton slurred, unable to get the sloppy grin off his face.
"I notice you keep smiling at me. You think I'm funny?"
"No, not at all."
"You better not, or else I'll teach you what is funny!"
"Absolutely," Walton agreed, nodding slowly. By now his brothers in arms had noticed the argument brewing and decided to get involved. Paxton was up and out of his chair, his hands clenching into fists, while Maeda was also rising from his seat, ready to step in if required.
"Hey, Flinch, is that guy giving you a hard time?" Paxton growled.
"Not at all," the young marine replied. "He's been a perfect gentleman." Walton staggered away, squinting his eyes in the hope of getting his blurred surroundings into some sort of focus. He bumped into a surly Japanese man emerging from a side door bearing the word HEAD. "'Cuse me, is that the way to the bathroom?" The man didn't reply, just nodded wearily before walking away towards the bar. "Thank you," Walton called after him.
The youthful marine emerged several minutes later to find a massive brawl in progress. A bamboo stool flew past his face and smashed against the nearest wall, splintering apart on impact. "Did I miss something?" he asked nobody in particular. "I thought we weren't supposed to fight in here."
Maeda appeared beside him, grinning
It is suggested that all servicemen be banned from this establishment for the next few weeks, to allow tempers to cool. It seems the incident stemmed from a dispute between marines stationed on Oahu and men of the visiting 200th Coast Artillery. In the view of the fact the latter company is due to depart Honolulu tomorrow, it is believed reprisals are unlikely in the future, but all precautions are being undertaken.
End.
THREE
Walton wasn't sure who threw the first punch that transformed Tokyo Joe's from a peaceful establishment into a miniature warzone, but he suspected Paxton had something to do with it. The two of them and Maeda had stayed in the bar all afternoon, sampling almost every kind of food and drink available. For the first time since joining the marines, Walton found he was relaxing. The sound of waves lapping on the nearby beach blended with the strumming of the resident Hawaiian band in one corner of the bar provided a gentle underscore to the hubbub of happy customers.
Walton knew he could never keep up with Maeda and Paxton's intakes. They were older than him, and knew far more about the ways of the world. So he persuaded Kissy to make sure every second drink he got was unadulterated juice; fruit punch without the punch, so to speak. But his legs still felt as if they'd been replaced by rubber bands when the complaints of his bladder became so urgent they required immediate relief. The young marine got up and staggered, lurching sideways into a neighbouring table where three army recruits were sitting. The nearest of them was a bloated, red-faced slob with thinning hair and a greasy moustache. He sprang to his feet, anger in his eyes and spittle flecking his lips. "Hey, you gonna watch where you're going, or do I have to rip you a new one?"
"Sorry, I'm sorry," Walton slurred, struggling to keep from giggling.
"What, you think this is funny?" his belligerent accuser demanded. The two soldiers with him tried to persuade their angry comrade to calm down. A young Hispanic trooper with a friendly face tugged at his colleague's sleeve.
"Hey, Buntz, there's no need to get mad; he apologised, okay?"
"No, it's not okay, Martinez! And keep your nose out of my business!"
Martinez held his hands in the air, as if surrendering. "Have it your own way if you want, Buntz. I was just saying the kid's said he was sorry."
"That's right," Walton slurred, unable to get the sloppy grin off his face.
"I notice you keep smiling at me. You think I'm funny?"
"No, not at all."
"You better not, or else I'll teach you what is funny!"
"Absolutely," Walton agreed, nodding slowly. By now his brothers in arms had noticed the argument brewing and decided to get involved. Paxton was up and out of his chair, his hands clenching into fists, while Maeda was also rising from his seat, ready to step in if required.
"Hey, Flinch, is that guy giving you a hard time?" Paxton growled.
"Not at all," the young marine replied. "He's been a perfect gentleman." Walton staggered away, squinting his eyes in the hope of getting his blurred surroundings into some sort of focus. He bumped into a surly Japanese man emerging from a side door bearing the word HEAD. "'Cuse me, is that the way to the bathroom?" The man didn't reply, just nodded wearily before walking away towards the bar. "Thank you," Walton called after him.
The youthful marine emerged several minutes later to find a massive brawl in progress. A bamboo stool flew past his face and smashed against the nearest wall, splintering apart on impact. "Did I miss something?" he asked nobody in particular. "I thought we weren't supposed to fight in here."
Maeda appeared beside him, grinning
Similar Books
