The Last Resistance: Dragon Tomb

The Last Resistance: Dragon Tomb

by Ricardo Alexanders
The Last Resistance: Dragon Tomb

The Last Resistance: Dragon Tomb

by Ricardo Alexanders

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Overview


Want to see Nazi Panzer and Soviet T-34 charging together, not against each other?

Want to see Prime Minister Tojo arguing face to face with President Roosevelt on which country is responsible for the attack of Pearl Harbor?

This is the book for you.

In Dragon Tomb, Writer Ricardo Alexanders tells a story about a young Chinese archaeologist who saved the world from Armageddon during World War II. Dragon tomb is packed with adventures and actions. FDR, Hitler, Stalin,Tojo, Madame Chiang...many historical characters make appearances in this soul-stirring story, which is filled with unbelievable twists and turns.

Synopsis

1939, two years after returning from Boston to defend his country against Japanese invasion, archaeologist Chuan-Jay Hoo is captured in a behind-enemy- lines rescue mission. As a POW, he is forced to take part in the excavation of the tomb of the mythical First King of China. Unexpectedly, this top-secret tomb raid is violently defeated by a ruthless killing force sealed within the tomb. Chuan-Jay was astonished by the tomb guardian's fire power and the fact that the illusive First Dynasty in China was actually established by some strayed Aliens happened to crashed on Earth 4000 years ago. He begs those guardians to save their blood intertwined descendants. But they refuse, citing a more pressing mission to accomplish.

Eighteen months later, Chuan-Jay teams up with an American adventurer, Dr. Harry Jones, and returns to the tomb. The duo successfully convinces the guardians to fight for China, then the Allies. With the help of those guardians, the Allies prepare for an all-out counter offense to end the war in Pacific by the spring of 1944. However, the subsequent rise of an evil force catch everyone on Earth by surprise. It was so evil, the Allies and the Axis powers were forced to fight together. The throws in everything they had in WWII, including the atomic bombs. The evil still prevails. Alone in the First King's tomb again, Chuan-Jay finds himself as the last line of resistance for the survival of mankind.

Ricardo personally performed "Everyday is a Monument", an original theme song for his novel. An industry first!

Please highlight the link below, right click "go to YouTube", and watch the music video,https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hwpZ8tm8PPI

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781979564953
Publisher: CreateSpace Publishing
Publication date: 12/09/2017
Series: Last Resistance , #1
Pages: 576
Product dimensions: 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 1.17(d)

About the Author

Ricardo Alexanders, an indirect decedent of the Great Yyu, was born in China, educated as a chemist, specializing in innovative drug formulation development. In his spare time, he is a passionate writer and loves writing History/Science Fiction.

Dragon Tomb is the first book of The Last Resistance pentalogy. The tentative titles for the rest four are: Resurrection, Total Invasion, Red Dragon, and the series finale, Genesis. Sharing of such titles is meant to set a clear goal for the writer and motivate him to finish the pentalogy within five years.

Ricardo enjoys direct communication with his readers. He can be contacted at ricardo.h.alexanders@gmail.com for any comments, suggestions, or typos found in the manuscript.

Read an Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

There is no way out, New Guy.

November 13, 1939, Uesaka POW Camp, Henan, China

On the second floor of an old textile factory building, a skinny Chinese POW was leaning against the right pillar of a large window that had no glass remaining. About five feet ten inches tall, the man was probably thirty years old. His short hair was a little messy but stubbornly fighting against his normal left-side part. This hairstyle was popular among the well-educated in China. Albeit heavily torn, his dark blue civilian clothing stood out in the room crowded with people in worn-out gray Chinese National Army uniforms. Impassively, he looked down the open courtyard that stretched south from the building. In the treeless courtyard, there was only a stone well about fifty yards away. Beyond the well stood fifteen-foot walls topped with barbed wire. To the far left, a watchtower rose from the corner.

Machine guns, he thought.

To the right of the courtyard, Japanese soldiers stood straight with their rifles, guarding the entrance of a smaller, one-story building.

Double guards. Must be the camp's main office.

"No way out, New Guy," said a short man from behind him. "Colonel Uesaka is a brutal motherfucker. I wish I had died in the battle."

"How so?" asked the skinny Chinese POW, the new guy.

"You just got here and know nothing," said the shortie.

The new guy opened his mouth to speak then closed it again. He had to admit that he indeed knew very little about this POW camp.

"Look at what he prepared for us," the short guy continued. "The walls are tall, and they hung empty cans on the barbwire. If you climbed over the wall, the cans make noise. The guards in the watchtowers shoot at them with machine guns."

"How do you ..."

"Even if you made it over the wall, there is a deep ditch that the Japs forced us to dig around this POW camp. The only way in and out of this shit hole is the main gate to the east."

Nodding sadly, the man in civilian clothes introduced himself. "My surname is Hoo and my first name is Chuan-Jay. Special Operations, the Thirteenth Army. My comrades call me CJ. How about you?"

"Yong-Zhong, Wang Yong-Zhong," the shortie replied. "My parents gave me the fucking name. Yong-Zhong means 'loyal to the country forever.' What a joke! We fought for this country. And now, they could not care less about us."

"Don't give up, Yong-Zhong," CJ tried to encourage him. "The Japs are out of gas now. Simply put, they can't defeat us and they don't have the resources to keep the war going for long. Trust me, we are going to get out of here one day."

"How do you know these shits and what the fuck are these resources you were talking about?"

"The resources are crude oil, rubber, gasoline. Does that ring a bell?"

Yong-Zhong had no response.

"Anyway, the Japs need these things for this war and they are running low now," CJ tried to explain.

"So?"

"Many other countries have stopped selling these things to the Japs until they stop the war with us."

"Ha." Yong-Zhong's laugh was gruff and humorless. "We are gonna die long before that, you know. You just got here, right? A day ago? A week?"

"The day before yesterday."

"Well, you've seen how they treat us and feed us. We ain't gonna last long." Yong-Zhong pointed to the well by the wall. "Look at that well. It's a dry well and they throw half-dead people in. It smells like shit."

"Yes," a bearded guy on the left agreed. "One of the guys from my unit was thrown down there. He was sick and begging." He then put his bony arms in the air and started mimicking the unfortunate guy's voice. "'Officer, I am good and I can still work —' Many of us heard it. There he went, into the well. I heard that he starved to death, since the well was almost filled and the fall did not kill him."

"Bastard!" Wang cursed and no one had anything to say for several minutes.

"Tall guy! Where are you from?" the bearded guy broke the silence. "People call me Old-Goat."

The voice startled CJ. "Are you asking me?"

"Yeah. Where do you come from? We don't have many tall guys around here in Southern Henan," Old-Goat confirmed.

"I am from Fujian, you know, to the southeast by the East China Sea," CJ replied.

"I heard the people from the south are short, right? Yong-Zhong?" Old-Goat turned to his short friend.

Yong-Zhong agreed. "All the guys on my unit from the south were short, even to me. CJ, you are one of a kind."

"I get this a lot." CJ shrugged. "The people from my village are tall and we don't know why. Maybe we are one of a kind."

"Which village?" a voice asked.

"The Village of Longevity in Nan'an County. Do you know anyone from my village?"

"No, just curious," the voice answered and CJ was a little disappointed.

"What kind of special operation are you in?" Old-Goat was curious.

"My team goes behind the enemy lines ..." CJ suddenly stopped talking and started pressing his right tragus with his index finger.

"What are you doing?" Old-Goat asked.

"My ear started making loud popping noises again. Very uncomfortable."

"From a grenade?"

"I don't know what it was. I was knocked out and ended up here."

"That is our life. You never know what you'll end up with. Huh! You were saying ..."

"My assignment was to get our downed pilots," CJ continued to explain. "Mostly foreign volunteers."

"Foreigners helping us? Never heard of it," Yong-Zhong interrupted. "I've only heard the foreigners come over and bully us. Even the government is afraid of them."

"There are good people and bad people in every country. We've gotten some good foreigners to help us fight the Japs, especially in the air. I've met Russians, Americans ..."

Screech!

Their conversation was interrupted by the squeal of vehicle brakes out in the courtyard. Almost all the POWs stopped what they were doing and flooded to the windows for a look at the courtyard.

A motorcade led by a car drove in from the main entrance and stopped in front of the camp office. When the dust cleared, CJ could see two Japanese officers getting out of the car, carrying military swords (Gunto). They saluted the guards and went into the office building.

"One, two, three, four, and five. Oh, there is one more in the back." Old-Goat had just finished his counting. "Six trucks. Are they planning something tonight?"

CJ sensed a little panic in Old-Goat's voice.

"What do you think, Old-Goat? The Japs are gonna drag a few hundred of us out tonight and shoot us," grumped Yong-Zhong. "I've been waiting for this fucking day for a long, long time."

About half an hour later, an order was passed along to the POWs to line up in the room without their belongings. CJ and the other prisoners stood in silence along the wall. A short Japanese officer walked in.

"This Jap is new. I've never seen him," Old-Goat commented.

A Chinese man wearing black glasses rushed in and yelled, "Quiet!"

"That is Er-Dog, the traitor," Old-Goat whispered to CJ.

"Is this his real name?" CJ asked.

"No. We just call him that," Old-Goat whispered back. "He is from my village and his name is Shen H —"

They were interrupted by Er-Dog's distorted high voice. "Stand upright!" He looked around as the room quieted down. "Taikun wants to take a good look at you people!"

Then, Er-Dog turned to the new Japanese officer, bowed, and asked in Japanese: "????????"

Shall you begin with what? CJ wondered.

The evil duo started walking down the line. The Japanese officer pointed to a POW and Er-Dog gave the order in Chinese. "Go to the hallway!"

They kept picking as they moved closer to CJ and Old-Goat. Suddenly, Er-Dog stopped in front of a big prisoner. Apparently, he refused to leave the room.

"Go! Go now!" Er-Dog kept yelling. A prison guard walked over and lowered the bayonet on his rifle.

"Obey Taikun's order if you want to live, please." Er-Dog lowered his voice as well.

The big guy reluctantly walked out of the line and into the dark hallway. The selection process resumed.

What's the deal? CJ wondered as Er-Dog's voice became closer and closer. Mass execution? Unlikely. They only chose the healthy and strong ones.

"Shortie Wang! Move!" Er-Dog apparently knew Yong-Zhong's name. The Japanese officer skipped quite a few prisoners before stopping right next to Old-Goat. CJ raised his head and looked the Japanese officer in the eye. This new Japanese officer was well into his forties. CJ could see the gray hairs on his sideburns.

He was probably called up from the reserves and has a wife and kids at home.

[TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII] said the Japanese officer.

"Yes, Taikun Oda," replied Er-Dog.

CJ stepped out of the line before Er-Dog could translate Oda's order. The bespectacled man looked confused, CJ thought as he headed down the dark hallway. This traitor probably had no idea why this tall skinny prisoner could understand the Japanese officer's words.

In the hallway, fully armed Japanese guards were strategically positioned throughout, escorting a line of Chinese POWs to their unknown destination.

Following the flow of people, CJ walked downstairs and into a large room. Totally out of the blue, he saw his fellow POWs start to strip off their clothing. In the background, the yelling of "Take off your clothes!" from another translator echoed in the room. Reluctantly, CJ slowly undressed while observing what was happening.

After stripping, the naked POWs were forced through another door. As he walked into that crowded small room, CJ looked around. No windows. Shit! He clenched his teeth, resulting in a sharp pain from the front bottom tooth that he broke in half a few weeks ago.

[TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII] Someone yelling in Japanese to hurry up took him back from his thoughts. CJ looked to his right, and a guard raised a black whip. Step by step, he moved with the flow.

Out of this small room and into yet another door, CJ could not believe his eyes. There were stacks of brand-new winter uniforms of the Chinese National Army and people were putting them on.

Where the hell did the Japanese get these? CJ picked one up, then another. There were no insignias on those uniforms. I'd rather die than join the puppet army. But there isn't any insignia. CJ was really confused. All right, fine! He put the uniform on. God, it is so warm and comfortable. He moved to the next section and found heavy pants and new winter boots. Unbelievable! At least I die warm, CJ joked with himself.

"Grab a backpack and move out!"

"Line up in the courtyard."

Now dressed, the POWs ran out of the old textile building as orders were given. In the courtyard, six lines of POWs were formed next to the newly arrived trucks. Standing in the second line, CJ looked around at the well, the wall, and the guards with bayonets everywhere.

If the Japs are going to execute us, why bother giving us new clothes?

[TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII] a Japanese soldier thundered at CJ. [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII]

Yes, yes, I'm getting on the truck. Where is Yong-Zhong? CJ could not see his new grumpy friend. Suddenly, he was hit in the arm by a rifle butt. Side-stepping and regaining his balance, he looked back to the Japanese soldier angrily.

The Japanese soldier appeared deeply insulted by CJ's angry look. [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII] He shouted "moron" before he ran up and hit CJ again in the belly with his rifle butt. In pain, CJ curled down and could not escape the kicking boot from the Japanese that followed. Out of choice, CJ lowered his right shoulder and took the kick. The resulting momentum sent CJ rolling backward onto the ground.

As CJ's world was rotating, he could hear the unrest from the other POWs. Suddenly, he felt a collision with something on his back and stopped rolling. Before he knew it, a dark shadow flew over his chest and landed right in front of him.

[TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII]

The Japanese soldier apologized repeatedly in an honorific form.

He must be a high-ranked officer.

Yong-Zhong was right. I am not going to make it out alive.

CHAPTER 2

Akagi Hikoichi

November 13, 1939, Courtyard, Uesaka POW Camp

"Chuan-Jay-kun!"

"Chuan-Jay-kun!"

Who is this Jap officer? CJ's vision was still a little blurry from the previous scuffle.

"CJ, it is me, Akagi." The shadow offered his hand to help CJ up.

"Akagi? Hikoichi Akagi?" CJ shook his head to clear his vision. He could not believe his eyes. This sharp-looking person standing in front of him in a Japanese Imperial Army officer uniform was his old roommate and best friend when he was studying in America.

Hesitating for a second, CJ took his hand and got up on one knee.

"Are you all right?" asked Akagi. "I thought I would never see you again."

"I can't believe it either."

"What are the odds?"

"Yeah, that we meet again in this situation."

"I don't know what to say."

"Me neither."

The conversation stalled into an awkward silence while other POWs were boarding the trucks.

"Do you ... umm ... want to ride with me?" Akagi tilted his head toward the driver's cabin of the truck nearby.

CJ hesitated for a few seconds. The two roommates had been out of touch since the war broke out. There were so many questions he wanted to ask his friend, with whom he not only shared a room, friendship, and a love for music but most importantly, their devotion to archaeology. But now, he was in an ominous uniform. The life or death of these POWs could potentially be in his hands. CJ took a look around, and oddly, he saw Yong-Zhong looking right back at him from the crowd.

"I prefer to ride in the back. Thanks," replied CJ.

CJ got up and turned to a nearby truck. A helping hand was offered. He took it and joined his fellow POWs on the cargo bed.

Akagi stood there and did not utter a word until all the POWs were boarded onto the trucks. Then he went to the front of the truck and lifted himself up by grabbing the door of the driver's cabin. Akagi stuck his head into the cabin for a few seconds, said something before he left, and disappeared into a Sumida Type 98 passenger car in the front of the motorcade.

In the back seat of that Sumida Type 98 sat a skinny Japanese officer in his fifties. A pair of round black-framed glasses sat on top of his high cheekbones while his military sword stood between his long legs. "What took you so long, Major?" this skinny officer asked Akagi.

"I am sorry, Colonel Yasuda. I met a person that I used to know back in America. He is very good in Chinese archaeology. We could use a guy like him."

"Move out!" Yasuda signaled to the driver. "A Chinese?"

"Yes, Colonel. A prisoner on our truck."

"A friend of yours in America?"

"Used to be. I haven't spoken to him since I came back to Japan."

"Good. We should use him."

"How about appointing him to lead the Chinese prisoners? He speaks Japanese."

"Sure. But you know what is going to happen after this mission. Right?"

"Absolutely," Akagi replied as the car rode out of the east main gate of the Uesaka POW Camp, led by a Type 92 Chiyoda armored vehicle with a heavy machine gun on its top.

Following Akagi's car, the trucks carrying the prisoners passed the saluting guards and machine gun posts at the gate.

The east main gate. CJ was standing on the third truck in the motorcade as it rumbled through the exit. He could hardly remember how he was thrown onto a truck's cargo bay and transported into this POW camp a few days ago. The only way in and out. Indeed, it is heavily guarded.

Although there were three armed Japanese soldiers in the cargo bay of this truck, the bay itself was not fully enclosed and the POWs were not restrained either. Once the trucks get into the countryside under the night sky, I may take a shot at jumping over the side rail. However, CJ's dream of escape was quickly smashed as the eight-vehicle motorcade was joined by many more Japanese trucks. Some were loaded with supplies, some he could not tell, while many were obviously filled with Japanese Imperial Army soldiers in yellow uniforms. Instinctively, CJ started counting. As he was doing so, a strange feeling overtook him.

"CJ!" He was startled by a tap on the shoulder. He turned around and saw that Yong-Zhong somehow found a way through the crowd to his side.

"My God! What do they need us for? Bayonet practice?"

"Probably not," CJ replied. "This must be a very special operation."

"How so?"

"This is a fully mechanized unit, which is very rare for the Japs in China."

"Yeah."

(Continues…)


Excerpted from "The Last Resistance Dragon Tomb"
by .
Copyright © 2017 Ricardo Alexanders.
Excerpted by permission of Ricardo Alexanders.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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