Chapter 1

World War II, Philippines 1944 - Somewhere in the jungle near the mountain village of Malaybalay, Island of Mindanao, Jacob Thomas peered out from behind bamboo bars at his keepers. Morning approached as it had for the last sixteen months he'd been held captive. He pushed his long straggly hair to one side and watched Japanese soldiers scurrying about as the sun rose over the mountain. Sunlight broke through thick, jungle vines casting morning shadows over their stronghold. His nightly mental escape had come to an end and his daily living nightmare was about to begin -- again.

The foul stench of rotting flesh that filled his nostrils caused him pause from the thought of another day in hell. He looked down at his ankles and the leg irons that had chaffed them raw. An aborted escape attempt by two Filipino prisoners had cost him a fierce beating and the leg irons. It had cost the Filipinos their lives. His ankles had open sores that had begun to fester. The pain was bearable -- for now. He knew nothing healed here on its own. The heat and humidity were an incubator for infection. The clock was ticking on his mortality in this place of no hope and no mercy.

Turning to see if the other prisoners were starting to stir, he noticed Jesse Hamilton sleeping a few feet away. Now just a shell of the man he knew, his face was drawn and eyes were sunken. When they first met he weighed at least two hundred pounds; today he might weigh one-fifty. He'd been struck in the head with rifle butts so many times, that he frequently lost his balance and fell down a lot. Jacob considered himself lucky he had no mirror to assess his failing condition as he began to stagger to his feet using the wall for balance. His muscles were constantly stiff and his infected ankles caused him to bristle as his shackles rubbed against raw skin.

Suddenly, the bamboo bars were flung open and two Japanese soldiers stormed the cave, kicking and yelling at those prisoners who were still not moving. Jacob's internal clock had awakened him in time to escape this early morning chaos. He watched, as his fellow captives were shocked back to their senses. In the early days of their capture, some of the prisoners would wake the others as they saw the guards approaching, now the extra few minutes of peace that sleep brought seemed more important than an early warning.

The soldiers led them into a clearing at the foot of the mountain. There, they were sat in a circle, in the middle of the four-thatched roof huts and half-dozen tents that made up the camp, as they were fed breakfast, a bowl of fish stew-like gruel and a hand full of rice. Just the smell still turned Jacob's stomach, but he knew if he didn't eat there would be no chance of ever getting out alive. He wolfed down the food, eating every morsel, knowing it would be all he'd see until the next morning.

After watching Jesse Hamilton, seated next to him, finish his meager meal; he turned his attention to the entrance of the large cave they had been digging for the last sixteen months. It had become his home ever since it was big enough for the two Americans and fourteen Filipino captives to lie side by side. There were now only nine Filipino prisoners left, two died from malaria, two others were shot trying to escape and one was buried in a cave-in. The cavern was now twelve-feet wide at the entrance and widened out to over twenty-feet inside. It was over a hundred and fifty-feet deep with ten-foot ceilings. The walls and ceiling were reinforced with thick bamboo logs harvested from the surrounding jungle.

Jacob inspected his leg shackles and the deteriorating condition of his infected ankles, as he observed several Japanese soldiers carrying explosives. It was necessary to set charges in order to loosen the hard rock enough for them to dig. A loud blast followed the soldiers from the cave. That was the signal that a long day's work was about to begin.

The guards motioned the prisoners toward the entrance, where they grabbed picks and sledgehammers. Dust from the explosion poured out as they entered, having to push aside the thick jungle foliage that had grown down over the opening. This was the most dangerous time, as the severity of the blast could have easily weakened the reinforced walls and brought thousands of tons of earth down on top of them. Lately, Jacob thought that might not be such a bad thing.

He could barely see as his eyes were burning from the rock dust. He held what little shirt he had left over his mouth and nose as he headed toward the rear of the tunnel. Two soldiers wearing dust masks lit torches that lined the walls, revealing a pile of fresh rock that had been excavated from the explosion. Jacob and Jesse made their way to the back wall to start digging. Several of the other prisoners lined up next to them and began swinging their assorted tools. The remaining captives loaded sacks with rocks and carried them from the cave. Jacob worked at a slow deliberate pace, that the heat, lack of air and his deteriorating physical condition demanded -- any harder would be suicide.

"Jake, how do I look?" Jesse asked.

"You look fine," he lied.

"I'm not feelin so good today, Jake."

"Me either Jesse, must be the heat."

"Yeah, that's probably it," Jesse replied, managing a slight grin. "Why you think we're still digging this god forsaken cave anyway?"

"I don't know, it doesn't make any sense to me. The Japs like tunnels, but not something this big. It's in the middle of this bug-infested jungle at the foot of this mountain. I would think they'd want to be on higher ground, not down here."

"I think they're gonna hide something here, Jake. Do you think?"

"I don't know, Jesse, but if it gets any bigger, they could hide the whole damn Japanese army here."

"I'm just not feelin too good, Jake."

"I know, Jesse, I know," Jacob consoled him, knowing that he was easily confused and frequently lost track of their conversations.

"You think were ever gonna git outta here?" Jesse asked.

Before Jacob could answer, a hard rifle butt strike to the kidneys caused Jesse to groan as he fell to his knees. The deliverer was yelling something at him in Japanese. Jacob reached down to help as a sharp blow between his shoulder blades caused him to lose his grip, knocking them both to the ground. He struggled to his feet as he watched Jesse try and regain his senses. He knew he couldn't help. The soldier stood over Jesse and readied to strike again if he didn't rise. He continued to shout as he reared back his rifle.

Jacob wanted to save him, but knew that would be signing his death warrant -- still, he felt compelled to do something. He reached down for his pick as the soldier prepared to deliver what Jacob was sure to be a deathblow. The other guard was following the rock carrying prisoners toward the entrance as Jacob slowly positioned the tool to attack. The scene seemed to stun the Filipinos working on the wall; they knew as Jacob did, once he struck their fate was sealed.

His mind was tormented; was it better to end this misery like a man or waste away at the hands of these devils he questioned. Taking one of them out with him would have to be enough to justify ending his life and that of his fellow prisoners. His promise to Sarah momentarily delayed his actions, but every man had a breaking point and he had reached his.

Just as he prepared to strike, a loud yell caused him to hesitate. The soldier standing over Jesse lowered his rifle, quickly spinning toward the sound. He hollered his response, as Jacob lowered his pick. He could see the relieved look of the other prisoners as he helped Jesse to his feet, as the conversation continued to hold their guard's attention. Jesse held his back as he steadied himself; his eyes conveyed his gratitude.

The soldier finally turned to the prisoners on the wall and motioned them to exit the cave. Jesse leaned against Jacob as they headed toward the entrance. Once outside they were directed to leave their tools and assume a seated position in the middle of the camp.

"What's going on, Jake?" Jesse whispered, as he rubbed his back.

"I don't know, this is the first time we ever stopped digging without having to blast more rock."

"Something is goin' on. Look at the way they all scrambling around to straighten up the camp."

"Yeah, it seems a little more hectic than usual."

Suddenly, from the far end of the camp, a high-ranking Japanese officer surrounded by a half-dozen heavily armed soldiers emerged. He was a big man, with a large bull-like neck and short, closely cropped, hair. One thick hand rested on his revolver and the other on the carved ivory handle of his long sword, as he walked toward the prisoners. Jacob watched as his barrel chest heaved from the heat and exertion. Carried closer by two thick legs, a small figure hidden by his hulk appeared at his side. It was a young boy, no more than eight years old; he looked Filipino to Jacob, but could have been half-Japanese.

"What the hell's a kid doing in the middle of the jungle?" Jesse asked, watching the entourage get closer.

"Shhhhh, keep quiet, Jess."

"Man, he looks like a mean one, Jake."

"Quiet." Jacob warned him again, as a soldier standing at attention caught his eye.

Jesse quieted himself, as the group reached the prisoners. The dozen soldiers that made up the jungle encampment stood at attention as the officer approached. Jacob watched from down cast eyes as the soldier in-charge of the camp stepped forward to greet his guest. They exchanged the standard salutes and bows followed by an order from the officer. The commander turned and repeated the directive and quickly several soldiers moved to hustle the prisoners to their feet. Jacob struggled to rise, as he and the other prisoners were positioned in a straight line. The Americans stood out among the Filipinos, they were at least six-inches taller and much broader, although what was left of their threadbare clothes hung on their emaciated frames.

The Japanese officer approached the line of prisoners and slowly eyed each one as he passed. The rest of his group followed behind as the young boy held on to his waistband. The prisoners kept their eyes pointed toward the ground; they knew not to make eye contact with any of their keepers. Jacob looked the officer in the chest as he approached. The officer stopped and carefully inspected him from the head to toe. Placing a thick hand under Jacob's chin, he slowly lifted his head until they were eye to eye. His touch was firm but gentle, not exactly what Jacob had been used to from this cruel enemy. Removing his hand, he turned and headed toward the cave.

The prisoners were motioned to the ground as the small entourage, accompanied by the commander of the camp, followed him toward the labor of their misery. The group disappeared through the opening, as the remaining guards stood at attention over the prisoners. It was obvious to Jacob that this was a man of great importance. No one was talking, not even his keepers as the minutes ticked by.

As they emerged, the Japanese officer was very animated, as he directed the camp commander's attention to the rocky slope leading up to entrance, as well as the overgrown jungle road that connected the camp. The commander nodded and bowed in response to the verbal barrage being heaped upon him.

The young child stood quietly, not seeming to Jacob to be the least bit intimidated by the situation or his surroundings. The officer looked toward him and the rest of the prisoners, becoming more vocal as he waved his arm and pointed a stubby finger, while shouting at the camp leader. He punctuated his directions with a hard stab of his thick digit into the chest of the much smaller man. The force of the blow caused him to stumble back, while still acknowledging his superior's directives.

Having issued his instructions, the large officer quickly turned and headed back toward a hut at the far end of the camp, as the commander relayed orders to the soldiers guarding the prisoners. Jacob and the others were rousted to their feet as the officer, with the boy clinging to his side and his personal guards passed by them. The sound of clanging leg irons caused the officer to pause. He then offered more direction to the bewildered camp commander, who obediently nodded in agreement. He then directed an order to one of the soldiers closest to the prisoners, who quickly reached for a key, rusted from the relentless humidity, hanging from his belt. The guard moved toward Jacob, where he knelt and unlocked the metal leg restraints. The relief was unexplainable, as for the first time in months he could walk without the friction of metal against his raw skin. The other prisoners had their chains removed and were hustled back to work. Jacob realized that the arrival of the officer had instilled a sense of urgency. Whatever was going to happen to him was now, not far off.