China Crisis (Stony Man)

by Don Pendleton

  “Keep your eyes open,” he called over his shoulder.

  An enemy gunner rushed in his direction, rifle stuttering as the man fired without checking his target. McCarter dropped to one knee, swinging his own weapon into play and laid a short burst into the advancing figure. The man stumbled back, the muzzle of his weapon sagging floorward. His finger was still on the trigger and his magazine expended itself into nothing. The Briton fired again, driving the wounded man off his feet.

  A concentrated rush of movement warned of more defenders. McCarter and his team scattered before the Chinese soldiers were clear of the smoke, then hit them from different directions. The fierce rattle of autoweapons died almost as quickly as it had started.

  “No more buggering around,” McCarter snapped. “Hung, get those explosives planted.”

  The Chinese nodded and moved with Encizo to assess the best locations for the explosives.

  McCarter bent over one of the dead Chinese and helped himself to a fresh magazine for his rifle. He discarded the empty one and reloaded. He took another, loaded it and handed it to Anna.

  “Now isn’t that thoughtful,” she said. “Any girl can get flowers. I get an assault rifle.”

  Anna moved deeper into the room, keeping her eyes on the breached door. She backed into a recess formed by heavy iron support pillars. From her position she could see clearly across the room to the entrance.

  McCarter watched as Hung and Encizo placed their charges. They were concentrating on the rows of computers and data storage banks.

  “Take a look through that observation window over there,” Hung said.

  McCarter looked down on a brilliantly lit workshop where long workbenches held electronic instruments and assembly stations. Long, shelved racks were full of items of hardware. There were no personnel in the place.

  “Is that where they put the units together?”

  Hung nodded.

  “Can we get down there?”

  “There should be an access door at the far end of this unit,” Hung said without looking up from his work.

  “Can you manage if we go down there?”

  “Yes. As long as I don’t get interrupted.”

  “Rafe, you’re with me. Bring some of those packs. Anna, you cover that door.”

  He led the way to the door at the far side of the room and pushed through, with Encizo close behind. A metal stairway led down to the workshop. McCarter stood watch as Encizo spread his packages around the workshop. The storage racks held an array of completed electronic units and circuit boards. He made sure one of the explosive packs was planted near the racks. He set the detonators and activated the switches one by one as he returned to where McCarter stood.

  “They’re all set for eight minutes and the clock is ticking,” the Cuban said.

  “So why are we standing here talking about it?”

  They climbed up the stairs and back to where Hung was just completing his own settings.

  “Set them for six minutes,” Encizo suggested. “That should bring them close to the ones I set down there.”

  “Time to get the hell out of here, then,” McCarter said.

  They moved out of the room.

  “Loy, is there anything else we should concentrate on?” Anna asked.

  “Our inside man said the main targets should be the ones we just dealt with. There are other storage bays for raw materials, but back there is where the completed equipment is held.”

  “Let’s hope so,” McCarter said.

  They reached the stairs and went down quickly, pausing at the entrance doors.

  Manning and James were still exchanging sporadic fire with unseen resistance out in the darkness.

  “We’re coming out,” McCarter called.

  “Okay,” James yelled. “Just keep you heads down. We have more company.”

  From outside the main gates the sound of a rocket launcher cut through the rattle of autofire. The missile exploded and detonated something that preceded a secondary blast. Dar Tan was still at his post.

  “Rafe, you got any missiles left in that bag?” McCarter asked.

  “Three.”

  “See where the concentrated fire is coming from? Drop one in the middle of that. Should scatter the opposition long enough for us to make a run back to the cell block. If we can reach cover, it should give us a chance to reach those parked vehicles.”

  Encizo loaded his launcher. He leaned his left shoulder against the corner of the research block’s wall to steady his aim. The launched rocket streaked in the direction of the muzzle-flashes and exploded with a searing thump. The firing ceased as the gathered Chinese were hit by the blast.

  “Go,” McCarter yelled, and they broke into a wild run across the first stretch of open ground. “Use anything you can see for cover.”

  There was scant resistance as they covered the distance to the punishment block. Smoke was still filtering out of the shattered building. As the others ran inside, Encizo paused, turning back to pinpoint the pair of missiles on their cradles. He loaded the rocket launcher, sighted on the missiles and pulled the trigger. He saw the missile streak across the smoke-filled site. It hit the closer missile at its center. The detonation was followed by an even larger, louder, destructive blast that expanded to take in both missiles and turn them into a fiery maelstrom. A roiling ball of blistering fire reached into the night sky, illuminating the entire site.

  DR. LIN CHEUNG STEPPED back from the thick safety glass of his office window as the huge explosion rocked the research block. He had been in his office when the attack had begun, and when the invaders had reached the block he had activated the security locking system, sealing his protective doors. Even through the thick walls he had been able to hear the firefight that had taken place. There had been a lull, then more weapons fire outside the building. He was uncertain what was happening because he had found the telephone system was no longer working.

  Damn Kang, he thought.

  Where was the man at a time like this? Away on his flight of fancy, searching for the people who had taken the stolen circuit board from the downed missile. Kang should have been on site to defend the facility. The way things were going it might not matter any longer. The series of heavy explosions assured Cheung that serious damage had been done to the site. So serious none of them might survive.

  When the pair of cradled missiles was destroyed, the massive explosions throwing fire and destruction across the site, it simply confirmed what Cheung had imagined. The facility wasn’t going to survive.

  Something else crossed his mind and the thought chilled him.

  Had the invaders planted explosive devices within the research block itself?

  He felt the floor beneath his feet shake and the walls vibrate, and he saw cracks appear. As the multiple explosions ripped through the research block, Cheung stumbled as the floor tilted, then split wide open. The thick window glass shattered. Debris pelted him and his ears were filled by the thunder of the blasts. Flame and smoke erupted from the splintered floor, which opened beneath his feet. Cheung felt himself fall. When his terrified gaze took in the fiery scene he was falling into, he had time for only a short, frenzied scream before it engulfed him completely.

  AFTER THE PAIR of missiles blew, the planted explosives detonated and ripped the research block apart.

  Rafael Encizo felt the pressure from the blast push him back against the punishment block wall. The heat touched his skin. As debris began to pound at him, Encizo turned and ducked inside the block, heading for where the rest of the team had gathered briefly. As they made their way through the building, crossing the abandoned guards’ area, they saw their own equipment scattered across a wide table.

  “Kit yourselves up,” McCarter said, grabbing his belt and holstered Browning. He picked up a combat harness and pulled it on, took one of the P-90s and moved to cover the door as the others loaded up. “Move out.”

  The rest followed suit, grabbing weapons and combat harnesses. James picked u
p his M-16/M-203 combo.

  Behind them came the raised voices of the Chinese, the rattle of weapons as some of the Guang Lor garrison got themselves together and began to infiltrate the punishment block.

  McCarter hung back, with Encizo at his side.

  “Anything left for that thing?” he asked.

  The Cuban smiled. “Just the one.”

  He loaded the missile and moved to where he was able to aim the launcher in the direction of the rear of the building.

  “Do it, Rafe.”

  Encizo fired the rocket. As it sizzled into the shadows, the Cuban discarded the launcher and followed McCarter toward the front exit. The explosion behind them echoed loudly. Smoke billowed and they were able to hear the crash of falling debris.

  The others were already commandeering a couple of the multipurpose vehicles. Hung, Dar Tan and James took one, with the Phoenix Force commando taking charge of the swivel-mounted 12.7 mm machine gun. Manning was in the rear of the second vehicle, Encizo on the machine gun, with McCarter behind the wheel and Anna beside him.

  “Hung, we need to reach that rendezvous point in the Wakhjir Pass,” Manning called across to the Chinese.

  “I know. Follow my lead,” Hung said.

  Dar Tan had placed his remaining missile in the launcher he carried. He turned and leaned out of his seat, firing the missile at the other parked vehicles. It struck one of the larger trucks, spewing flame and debris. The resultant explosion engulfed the other parked trucks.

  “That might slow them down a little,” James said.

  As the two powerful engines burst into life, Hung rolled his vehicle in a tight circle, McCarter close behind. They used the final light of day to guide them to the dusty, rutted trail that served as a road, cutting across country.

  Behind them the orange glow rising from Guang Lor was overhung by a heavy cloud of smoke that started to drift in the breeze that had risen.

  “Will we make it?” Anna asked.

  McCarter’s teeth gleamed white against his smoke-streaked face.

  “We have so far, love,” he said. “All you need is faith.”

  And a truckload of good bloody luck, he added silently.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Major Kang stared at the microphone in disbelief. Rage, fear, a need for retribution and a sick sensation threatened to overwhelm and choke him. A cocktail of emotions rendered Kang speechless. He slumped back in his seat, unseeing eyes fixed at some distant point on the other side of the Plexiglas canopy of the helicopter.

  Guang Lor had been devastated, the prisoners gone.

  Lin Cheung was dead somewhere in the wreckage of the destroyed research block.

  Kang lowered his gaze, focusing on the images of his dead squad members, still laid out in the ruins of the now deserted village. Not one had survived. He knew who was responsible. The signs were clear. The damned Uygur rebels had killed his men, slitting their throats as a final humiliation.

  He caught movement. The six-man squad he had brought with him from Guang Lor were still searching, actually going through the motions because there was nothing else they could do. The Uygur had moved on. A search of the demolished village had come up empty. Hung and his companion had gone. Kang tried to work out exactly what had happened.

  The Uygur had to have returned after he’d left with the prisoners and surprised his squad. They had killed them, stripped them of weapons and had to have located Hung. He had also noticed that both the EQ2050 vehicles were missing. One of his scouts had checked tracks. One had moved off to the west, while the other seemed to have traveled back in the direction of Guang Lor. A rescue mission to free the prisoners? If so, it seemed to have succeeded. Assuming, then, that the Americans were free, Hung with them, where would they go?

  Even that came with an answer. The information he had received from Guang Lor, coming in snatches over a poor connection, told Kang that vehicles had been taken from the pool, and they appeared to be heading in a westerly direction.

  West? To where?

  Kang had considered that and provided his own logical conclusion.

  The Americans had to have entered Xinjiang Province from the Afghanistan border. It was close, and there were American bases in that country. That would be their destination. Kang sat upright, almost smiling. He might yet be able to salvage something from this mess. He called to his second in command and told him to get the squad back inside the helicopter. As soon as they were on board, Kang told his pilot to get them in the air.

  “We have some fugitives to catch,” he said.

  And some pride to reclaim.

  Kang would never admit to anyone that he felt guilty of committing a grave error of judgment. He had been so elated at capturing the American team and Mei Anna that he had allowed his judgment to slip. He knew now that he should have remained with his squad and ensured that Loy Hung was apprehended while he had the opportunity. As a sop to his own conscience he did allow that if he had stayed, then he would most probably be dead as well as his men. He realized that this was no excuse. Beijing would only consider the fact that he had abandoned, albeit temporarily, his prime mission. Walking away from capturing Loy Hung would be indefensible in Beijing’s eyes. Kang’s salvation lay in completing his mission by delivering Loy Hung and the missing circuit board. The destruction of Guang Lor was another matter. Whatever the outcome of that, Kang had imprisoned the American team but they had escaped and struck at the facility.

  His future looked bleak.

  Kang might soon become a demoted major. He was well aware of the severity of punishment for failure. Beijing didn’t show a great deal of mercy in such cases. His only option was to attempt to lessen his error by delivering Hung, the board and, if possible, recapturing the Americans and Mei Anna. In itself a major task, he admitted, but he had little choice. His life could depend on achieving success.

  Kang stared out through the canopy of the helicopter, seeing little except a bleak time ahead if he failed. Fate was a capricious mistress. Only a few hours ago he had accomplished a great deal. Just as swiftly his victory had been snatched from beneath his nose. If Kang had been a religious man, he might have prayed for celestial guidance. Reality, however, had taken a different stance. Now he had been left to stand or fall alone. No one would help him. His future lay in his own hands.

  “IF WE CAN KEEP THIS pace we should reach the pass by first light,” McCarter said.

  “Makes me uneasy when you begin every sentence with ‘if,’” Anna remarked.

  “I like to hedge my bets.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Ahead of them Hung’s lead vehicle was throwing up clouds of dust. McCarter had to ease off the gas pedal and drop back a few yards. He noticed the slight buffeting of a rising wind slapping against the sides of the vehicle.

  “You feel that?” he asked.

  “You should try being up here,” Encizo called.

  He had felt the gradual increase in wind velocity himself in his exposed position in the open back of the truck. He lowered himself to a sitting position, his back against the canvas flap, hands pushed into the folds of his combat jacket. Encizo felt the beginnings of a dust storm. If one blew in, their progress would be hampered. Night driving over this kind of terrain was difficult enough. The addition of dust clouds rolling across the landscape would minimize their ability to see clearly. The only good thing about it, it would have a similar effect on anyone out looking for them.

  “KEEP THEM COMING,” Kang said. “I need those reinforcements if I am to prevent enemies of the state reaching the border. You have my coordinates.” He ended the transmission and lowered the handset.

  “Major,” his pilot said urgently.

  “Yes?”

  The pilot pointed, and Kang saw curling dark shapes materialize from the night sky.

  “What is it?”

  “A dust storm, Major Kang. It looks as if it is moving into our area.”

  Kang shook his head. He felt he could scream in p
ure frustration. A dust storm. Could he have anything else go wrong for him? Somehow he didn’t think so.

  “Will we still be able to fly?”

  “Unless it becomes too intense. Then I will have to land. The air intakes can suck dust into the engine. If that happens they will shut down and we crash.”

  Momentarily, Kang was defeated. He simply nodded in response to the pilot. Peering out through the canopy into the darkness, he wondered if the anticipated dust storm would affect the fugitives, as well.

  LESS THAN A HALF HOUR later the storm struck full-on. The wind, slicing down from the north, brought with it gritty dust that hammered the sides of their vehicles like buckshot. As visibility almost reached zero, McCarter lost sight of Hung’s taillights a number of times, and when Hung halted his vehicle the Briton almost tailgated him. Swinging out of his seat, McCarter made his way to speak to the Chinese, Anna close behind.

  “How long will this last?” McCarter asked.

  “These storms have been known to blow for days,” Hung said. “But this time of year they run out after a few hours.”

  “Great. That’s all we need.”

  “If we can’t see, neither can Kang’s soldiers,” Anna said.

  “Any place we can take shelter?” McCarter asked.

  Loy Hung shrugged. “If it was a clear day I could find somewhere easily.” He gestured in defeat. “In this I might run us into a hole, or worse.”

  McCarter accepted the man’s reasoning. Urgent or not, there was little they could do.

  “Okay. We’ll stay put for now. The minute this clears enough for us to see, we move out. Let’s stay awake in case Kang’s men stumble onto us.”

  They grouped beside the vehicles, using them as cover and turned their backs to the wind, weapons cradled in their arms in case they were needed.