“I’m not sure Admiral Crichton thinks so. He’s pretty sure Diao’s been playing us for fools.
“Then you’re all probably relieved he sent half his contingent home. I mean, they were practically at company strength before. In some berthing rooms, all you’d hear was Cantonese.”
“Which you understand, right?”
“Not exactly. Mandarin is what I know.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Mandarin is the ‘national language’, you know, the official language. But outside of the big cities, people mainly speak some regional dialect, like Cantonese, which is common in Guangzhou, where these guys come from.”
“So they don’t speak Mandarin?”
“No, they probably do, but I imagine it feels… I don’t know, maybe not quite like home to them.”
“Or maybe they don’t want you listening in.”
Emily stuck her head out and checked the passageway, then pulled the door closed with a click.
“Tell me what SECNAV didn’t want the General to talk about.”
Theo rubbed his chin and tried not to look into her eyes. “I’m pretty sure you don’t have the clearance for that information.”
“So, you’re not gonna tell me?”
“I’m almost as confident the Admiral would want you to know.”
“Well?”
“I imagine this comes straight from Michael, and probably Connie, too, and the fact that Lukaszewicz believes it is telling. They think something is happening in China, a power struggle of sorts, and that General Diao is behind it.” Theo paused to clear his throat, and Emily found a seat on the edge of Perry’s bunk. “Troop movements, forced retirements, even a few disappearances within the Central Committee… they think it points to serious doings.”
“But SECNAV doesn’t buy it?”
“Nope. He’s totally focused on how Zhang Jun’s faction might be using Operation Seabreeze to cover their activities in the Spratly Islands, and the Paracel’s, and he thinks they may be hoping to suppress Burmese separatists in order to gain influence with the ruling junta there.”
“Burmese separatists?”
A sound from the passageway silenced them – a turn of the knob, and when it swung open, Perry stepped through.
“Shut the door,” Theo said.
“Hushed voices, guilty looks – this has all the earmarks of an illegal briefing.”
“Exactly,” Emily said. “Now close the damn door and sit down.”
“I don’t know all the details,” Theo continued, “…but ONI apparently has some intell suggesting that at least one of the ethnic militias from northern Burma has established a presence in Malaysia and Indonesia.”
“Does SECNAV think they’re behind this latest attack?”
“He may be right, but it would mean they’ve got better intell than we do, to know what the Chinese are up to.”
“Or it’s just a random attack to stir up trouble in the strait,” Perry said. “They don’t need to know whose ship it is to think they’d gain something by sinking it.”
“Well, that’s another thing,” Theo said. “The shipping company is substantially owned by several Central Committee members and at least one member of the Standing Committee.”
“Which means…”
“… that it’s not likely they were behind the attack,” Emily said.
“Could it be another element of General Diao’s plan?” Theo asked.
“It’s possible,” Perry said. “But I don’t see how he gains anything from it.”
“Well, the Burmese connection seems pretty farfetched to me,” Emily said. “Judging from the way Ongpin behaves around Diao, I’d guess it was the Moros.”
“The Moros?”
“Yeah,” Theo said. “The Moro Liberation Front, right?”
“That’s who I’d guess,” Emily said. “Think about it, the Philippine National Police fought the MLF for a couple decades, and they weren’t happy when the government in Manila granted them semi-autonomy over Mindanao and the southern islands. I’d be surprised if there weren’t elements within the PNP who’d welcome covert Chinese assistance against them.”
“In exchange for helping undermine Philippine resistance to Chinese claims in the Spratly’s, you mean?”
“What do you think?”
Theo and Perry glanced at each other, wide-eyed.
“You’ve really got this worked out, haven’t you,” Theo said.
“Look, I’m not interested in some hidden agenda of the Chinese government,” Emily said, staring daggers at him. “They can have those damn islands for all I care. But Michael’s point, I take it, is that this attack was an unexpected contingency, and it may force Diao and his people to make their move sooner.”
“That’s how I read it, too,” Theo said.
“The only problem with that theory is that our last raid came up empty,” Perry said.
“What worries me is that we know so little about what it all has to do with Japan,” Emily said. “Two more incidents over the Senkaku Islands in the last week…”
“… and another Chinese cruiser actually had a missile-lock on a Jietai destroyer. That’s pretty aggressive.”
“I wouldn’t make such a big deal about it,” Theo said. “It was just posturing. They backed down in the end.” When Emily glowered at him, he stood back on his heels. “What? So you don’t care about the Spratly’s, but the Sankaku’s matter to you?”
“No, of course not,” she snarled. “The Senkaku’s are just another excuse for empty political posturing.”
“…and the Spratly’s are about oil and gas rights, not to mention control of the most important sea-lane in the world.”
“Whatever. That’s not for us to decide. We all know if they really want those islands, they’re gonna get them no matter what any of us does.”
“But you think we can actually do something about what’s going on in Japan?” Perry said.
“If it concerns the little princess… if she’s a pawn in this game, you can bet I’m gonna do whatever I can…”
“Doesn’t this make you nervous, I mean in any way?” Perry said, turning to Theo. “I get why we’re giving her classified information, especially since the Admiral would probably read her in, if he could. But when you talk like that,” – he’d turned to face Emily again – “you sound like an agent of a foreign power.”
“You know me better than that… don’t you?”
“Of course I do, but if anyone else found out what we’re talking about, would they be able to tell the difference?”
“Then we’ll just have to make sure nobody finds out,” Theo said. “Welcome to the family.”
The memory of this conversation had replayed itself in her mind several times already today. She narrowly avoided colliding with Tarot and Racket as she stepped into the Upper-V through a hatch by the main ramp to the flight deck – “Sorry, LT,” Racket said. “I didn’t see you.” The slight quake in his voice snapped her out of the reverie. Tarot peeked over his buddy’s shoulder, and she saw the trepidation in his eyes.
“It’s okay, guys. Carry on.”
At the far end of the hangar deck, not far from the port elevator doors, which let the twilight panorama of the open sea provide a backdrop, Theo had convened the final briefing. The plan was to launch a three-pronged insertion into an uninhabited island group roughly one hundred miles southeast of Tapaan, on the western edge of the Celebes Sea. Intell of a suspected terrorist outpost just outside striking range of the final position of the CSCL Thetis had been provided by Capt Ongpin, who attributed it to reports from local fishermen.
Once Ongpin had finished his presentation, with the assistance of Cpl Iwatani, Capt Diao reviewed the comms protocols and codewords for the mission. Finally, Theo announced the transport assignments.
“Captains Diao and Kano will launch their platoons in inflatables from the hovercraft to clear the two smaller islands in the group, then relaunch for the big islan
d from the southwest, and converge with Captain Ongpin’s PNP units and Lieutenant Commander Hankinson’s two platoons at the main cave site.”
“How confident are we that there aren’t more caves, or more entrances?” Kano asked, having noticed Emily crossing the deck, and gesturing to her to translate.
“The Chinese satellite images don’t show any discrepancies in the terrain profile when compared to a Geological Survey map produced three decades ago,” Perry said. He paused to let Emily relay this response for the Japanese speakers, while Iwatani translated into Tagalog for the sake of Ongpin and the PNP.
“That survey showed no other cave sites, which means confidence is at seventy percent,” Theo said. “Of course, since the smaller islands in the group are reef-formations, there are no caves on them. But you will need to clear the cave-complex on the main island.”
A few more questions and answers were filtered back and forth through the translators, and once everyone seemed satisfied, Perry closed the briefing.
“Commanders, hovercraft launch is at zero-three-hundred. Phrog 6, Phrog 7, and Phrog 8 are wheels up at zero-four-hundred,” he barked out. “Dismissed.”
Emily squirted away from the main group, hoping not to have to acknowledge Diao, and that probably meant getting out of earshot of Theo and Perry before they could engage her. She’ gotten halfway to the hatch she’d entered by before she heard their voices. If only they wouldn’t delay her escape.
“LT, sir… er, ma’am,” Tarot called out. “Wait.”
“Walk with me, guys. Keep moving.”
“Racket has a request, ma’am.”
“Shut up, Tarot. It was your idea, too.”
“Tick-tock, Marines.” She turned to flash them her best angry stare, and when she turned back, she glimpsed Kiku standing just inside the hatch she’d hoped to escape through. How long had she been there?
“Farah says it’s your birthday, LT, and we thought…”
“It’s not. You’ve been had.” Racket’s face fell at this news, and Emily considered him and then Tarot. “What do you want from me, guys? We can’t be pals… you understand that, right?” Even though they towered over her, the two of them stared fixedly at their shoes, looking for all the world like embarrassed little boys.
“It’s just…”
“Fine. You can join Captain Martinovich and me at Midnight Rations.” She turned away without waiting to see if that would satisfy them, and stepped through the hatch. “C’mon, Kiku-san. I need to change for the XO’s mess.”
* * *
“How’d the Jarheads find out about your birthday?” Martinovich eyed Emily with a mocking smile as she squatted to strap her Remington 870 behind the co-pilot’s seat. “Is your cannon completely immobilized now? I mean, do you have enough velcro and duct tape?”
“All secure, Cap.”
“Holy crap. What the hell is that thing, a broadsword?”
“It’s not that big.” Emily slipped the wakizashi out from the saya strapped to her back and held it out for Martinovich to see.
“It’s huge. Doesn’t it dig into your back?”
“Nah, it fits right between my shoulder blades. I hardly notice it.”
“And that hilt-thingy?”
“It’s no bulkier than a side-arm, and we’re supposed to carry those. Remember… regs, and all?”
“Whatever. You take care of the pre-flight with Cassidy, okay?” Martinovich stowed two cans of hydraulic fluid behind his seat and picked up the radio. “Phrog 6 ready for boarding.”
“Tail-gunner and side-gunner are fully loaded and mission-ready,” Emily called into the cockpit. “Flight engineer reports comms and anti-missile systems ready. We are fully fueled, Cap.”
Hankinson and Durant led a platoon around to the tail-ramp, and Emily strapped into the seat next to him. The fuselage shook as twenty-four heavily armed Marines boarded the helicopter. A few moments later, the tug from the engines as the rotors spun up pulled the entire craft up and forward.
“That was quite a thing, those Jarheads crashing your birthday party,” Martinovich said, after they cleared the flight deck. “Hankinson and Leone worked so hard to keep it a private affair.”
“I invited them,” she said.
“So the SEALs couldn’t even keep it secret from you.” He couldn’t conceal his pleasure at this thought, and snorted audibly.
“At least, they got the cake right.”
“I wouldn’t have taken you for the custard-filled type.”
“You, on the other hand…”
“If you’re gonna make another crack about my ass…”
“Let’s just say you had enough to make a Jarhead proud.”
“What,” he protested. “I only had the tiniest sliver.”
Emily stared across at him in mock astonishment: “Pfffft.”
For most of the trip, Martinovich kept his Phrog at six thousand feet, cruising at a hundred twenty knots, with Phrog 7 and Phrog 8 following in staggered formation. At seventeen miles out, a grouping of four low-lying islands came into view in the morning twilight, one much larger than the other three, which formed a loose arc of narrow crescents framing a pale blue lagoon. The big island shimmered in the pre-dawn mist, more than a mile across at its widest, its central peak sloping off in rolling hills to a beach on the lagoon-side, and rocky cliffs along the salient, eastern coast.
“Okay, Ninja,” Martinovich said. “Bring us in for a low-pass.”
Emily pushed the cyclic forward, working the rotor pedals and lowering the collective, and the Phrog pitched forward, nose down, and plunged more than five thousand feet. She levelled it off at two hundred feet above the waves and throttled up the engines, relying on airspeed to protect against low-level turbulence. At two miles out, she banked right, seeking the shadow the central peak would cast at sunrise.
“Can we get a visual confirmation yet?” Hankinson’s voice crackled through his headset.
“It’s just coming into view,” Martinovich replied. On the western edge of the lagoon, he spotted the eleven-meter long Rigid-Inflatables, three of them, and eight of the smaller ‘Zodiac’ inflatables. “All accounted for.”
At Martinovich’s signal, Phrog 6 banked right to take a southeasterly heading for two miles, until Emily brought her around to an approach vector for the windward side of the big island. At one mile out, she dropped the bird under a hundred feet and skimmed the waves the rest of the way, finally setting down in Drop Zone Alpha, a clearing near the lowest part of the eastern shore. Within seconds of disembarking the Marines, she lifted off to make room for Phrog 7 and Phrog 8. All three Phrogs took a wide course south and came back around to regroup on a sandy stretch along the western side of the longest reef island on the far side of the lagoon. Low greenery on a ridge provided enough cover to conceal them from the main island.
“Does this exercise feel different to you?” Martinovich undid the safety harness and squirmed into a sideways position in his seat. The gunners and the flight engineer had finished checking equipment and were occupying themselves with idle chatter on the tail ramp. The next few hours threatened to pass like molasses.
“Different how?” She arched an eyebrow in that way someone does who isn’t sure she should speak her mind.
“Don’t hold out on me, Ninja. Something’s up and you know what it is.”
“I don’t know what you want to hear, Cap.”
“Hankinson’s nervous as a cat around the Chinese contingent, and the next thing I know, you start strapping a goddamn sword to your back. Don’t tell me that’s just a coincidence.”
She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes cold as steel as some sort of calculation worked itself out in her heart. He knew she was weighing what she could say, what she could trust him with. He began to worry that the verdict might go against him. Finally she spoke.
“Have you been following the news?”
“Yeah, sure… I suppose. Why?”
“Two members of the Chines
e Central Committee were placed under house arrest yesterday, and a member of the inner circle, the Standing Committee, hasn’t been seen in a week.”
“I guess… I mean, well, no. You’re talking about that stuff that slips by at the bottom of the TV screen. Who’s got time to follow that stuff?” He grimaced slightly when he saw the expression on her face. “Okay, fine, but I have no idea who those people are. How about you tell me what it means?”
“Did you hear the news from Japan? The Defense Minister, Mr. Ito, was killed in a car accident.”
“You’re beginning to sound a little paranoid, Tenno.”
“You asked.”
“Are you saying Ito’s death wasn’t an accident?”
“His driver and his bodyguard were killed, too.”
“They were in the car, too, right?”
“His Principal Secretary was found dead the next morning. You tell me if that sounds like a coincidence.”
“It sounds like someone is cleaning house, I guess.”
“There have been others, members of the Diet, mid-level officials in the diplomatic corps, a vice president at the Mori Corporation.”
“Whoa, Ninja. You’ve been making a study of this.”
“I keep my eyes open. But don’t you see what it means?”
“Not politics as usual, I guess.”
“Definitely not. It’s the sort of thing you see when… well, when a country is at war with itself.”
“Are you saying the events in Japan and China are connected… you know, like a concerted effort? How unlikely is that?”
Martinovich had barked out this last question perhaps more vehemently than he’d intended, and when his co-pilot said nothing for a long moment, her eyes no longer focused on him, he began to regret having said anything at all.
“Oh, crap,” she said, just as the radio crackled back to life. Martinovich pulled on his headset in time to hear Hankinson’s voice: “Extraction point alpha.”
A short hop across the lagoon brought the Phrogs down on the south end of the main beach on the big island. Diao and Kano had loaded their troops on the various inflatables and were already underway. The tail gunner reported a sighting of the LCAC approaching from the west to rendezvous off the outer reef beach. Martinovich glanced back through the cabin as Hankinson’s platoon settled in, and knew that something had gone very wrong. No coalition casualties had been reported, and he heard the radio chatter about an engagement with an enemy, and a brief firefight in the cave-complex – he didn’t even want to imagine what that had been like.
Girl Rides the Wind Page 17