McCarter pushed to his feet and set off after Anna.
The others turned back to the ravine, eyeing the Chinese on the far side.
“It’s going to come to them that all they have to do is fly over in those choppers,” Manning commented.
“I was hoping no one would mention that,” Encizo said.
On cue Kang’s helicopter rose into the air. It gained height and flew over the ravine, ignoring the men on the ground and settling on a course that followed Mei Anna’s tracks.
“That isn’t going to make the boss’s day,” Manning muttered.
“Responsibilities of command,” James said.
“Talking of responsibility,” Encizo said, “maybe we should take it on board and get the hell out of here, too.”
“You mean, retreat?” Manning asked.
“Strategic withdrawal?” Encizo suggested.
Loy Hung clicked in a fresh magazine and cocked his assault rifle. “Sounds good to me.”
“Let’s see if we can beat the boss to that border,” James said. “Sitting here we get cut off.”
“I’ll take Tan,” Manning said.
The burly Canadian hauled the wounded man to his feet and with James’s help swung the dissident over his shoulders.
“You okay?” James asked.
Manning nodded. “I’ve hauled deer heavier than this guy.”
James fed one of his two remaining HE grenades into the M-203 grenade launcher as they moved out. Whichever way this fell, Phoenix Force was not going to go down quietly.
THEY HAD COVERED no more than three hundred yards before the beat of rotors reached their ears and one of the Chinese helicopters rose above the far side of the ravine. It swooped in low, casting around the former position Phoenix Force had occupied before turning and heading in their direction.
“Spread,” Manning yelled. “Give them a hard target.”
The four running figures veered apart, aware that the speeding aircraft would reach them easily. The heavy pulse of the helicopter’s engines increased as it bore down on them, even with the beat of the power plants, the crackle of machine-gun fire could be heard, and the chopping thud of bullets hitting the ground was unmistakable. And then it was hanging over the area.
Encizo was the first to return fire, ignoring the hovering presence of the Mi-171. The rotor wash kicked up thick dust, almost obscuring him as the Cuban went to one knee, his P-90 jammed to his shoulder. He raked the underbelly with a hard burst, seeing his fire chew into the aluminum panels.
Alerted by the hits, the Chinese pilot worked the controls to pull the helicopter back, yelling for the door gunner to respond. He received a reply that told him the gunner couldn’t see the enemy because of the dust.
JAMES HAD NO SUCH difficulty. The dark bulk of the chopper hovering overhead showed clearly to the Phoenix Force warrior. He was flat on the ground, concealed in a shallow dip, and from his prone position James could make out the detailed camouflage pattern painted onto the machine’s fuselage. That was intended to hide the helicopter when it was on the ground, not when it was framed against the open sky.
He responded quickly, knowing full well that the Chinese helicopter wasn’t going to stay motionless for long. He picked up the rattle of shots from Rafael Encizo, heard the metallic sound as they struck, and decided if he was going to make his shot it had to be now.
James judged angle and distance, raising the M-16 and locating his window of opportunity, which in this case was the open side hatch where the door gunner peered over the sights of his weapon. James used the hazy outline as his target acquisition point and eased back on the M-203’s trigger.
The HE grenade launched with a dull thump, curved up in an almost lazy arc and sailed in through the open hatch.
THE HELICOPTER PILOT heard a frenzied cry from the door gunner over the communication line. A moment later the HE grenade exploded and the blast expanded to engulf the crew compartment. The surge of heat and the concussion hit the pilot. Razor-sharp pieces of shrapnel blew into the flight deck, slicing into the pilot’s back and arms. He attempted to stay in control, but the controls had gone heavy and failed to respond. Fighting the stabbing pains engulfing his body, he struggled to keep the chopper in the air, but a secondary explosion weakened the aircraft’s infrastructure and it began to come apart. Searing flame rushed into the flight deck. The barely conscious pilot saw the ground seeming to rise up in front of his eyes before the impact crumpled the nose section and he was crushed still strapped in his seat.
MEI ANNA HAD COVERED HALF the distance to the border point when she heard the thwack of rotors and the hard beat of the engines. A glance over her shoulder showed Kang’s helicopter as it dropped to within a few feet of the ground. Anna felt the slap of hot air and shielded her eyes against the raised dust.
“Throw down your weapon,” Kang’s amplified voice demanded.
The helicopter turned sideways so Anna was able to see the 12.7 mm machine gun aimed directly at her. A short burst into the ground at her feet emphasized the threat.
“Your choice, Mei Anna.”
Reluctantly she accepted there was no other choice. It was a simple equation. Surrender or die. That was Kang’s unspoken ultimatum. With death she was of no use to anyone. As long as there was still life in her, so there was hope.
Anna discarded her pistol and raised her hands.
“Inside,” Kang ordered as the chopper touched down, and she could almost sense his triumph.
He watched her approach the open hatch where the door gunner held his weapon on target. The moment she climbed into the crew compartment Kang ordered his pilot into the air.
MCCARTER SAW IT ALL take place. Even though he was too far away to do anything, he broke into a hard run, bringing the P-90 on line. He lowered the weapon almost immediately because he knew there wasn’t a thing he could do. Any aggressive action on his part might conceivably harm Anna, and he wasn’t about to do that.
He was forced to stand by and watch Kang’s helicopter gain altitude before it turned and soared away. His attention was totally fixed on the retreating aircraft. So much that he failed to even acknowledge the heavy blast behind him when the transport helicopter crashed to earth, the explosion heard only as a distant, peripheral distraction.
KANG’S PILOT WAS FORCED to bank violently as the downed chopper blew, sending a backwash of fire and smoke into the air. The helicopter lurched as the shock wave caught it.
“Your American friends persist in their resistance,” Kang said, turning in his seat to smile at Mei Anna as the door gunner held her at pistol point.
“Like me, they don’t give up,” she said. “Send all the men you like, Kang, you won’t stop them.”
“I’ll still beat them. This time they will do what I demand.”
“Why so sure, Kang?”
“I have something they want, Mei Anna.” He jabbed a gloved finger at her. “I have you.”
THE RUMBLE OF THE explosion faded, replaced by the powerful whine of twin turbines. The sound penetrated McCarter’s dulled senses and he glanced up to see the familiar shape of Dragon Slayer streaking toward him. McCarter turned to signal the others and they started toward the hovering combat chopper. The moment it touched down the side hatch hissed open. McCarter scrambled inside, almost stumbling. Grimaldi met him in the crew compartment, reaching out to grab him by the shoulders.
“Let’s go,” McCarter said, his voice taut, ice-cold. “Now, Jack. Get this thing in the air now.”
“Hey, easy there, buddy.”
McCarter gave an angry snarl and manhandled the Stony Man pilot aside, moving to the forward compartment.
“David, what the hell is going on?”
McCarter had sagged against the rear of one of the body-form couches. His resistance was waning rapidly as the effort of the past few days caught up with him.
“Jack, you don’t understand. The bastard took her. I let him snatch her right from under my nose.”
Behind Grimaldi the rest of the team appeared, climbing into the crew compartment. The moment they were all inside Manning lowered Dar Tan to the deck and turned to hit the hatch button, closing and securing it. James headed for the medical compartment, reaching inside to extract what he needed to tend to Dar Tan’s wounds.
“Somebody tell me what’s going on?” Grimaldi snapped.
“That chopper you saw take off had Mei Anna in it. The guy in charge, Major Kang, has taken her.”
Grimaldi shot a look at McCarter’s slumped form.
McCarter raised his grimy face, fixing his eyes on Grimaldi. “That’s why I acted like a bleedin’ wanker, Jack. Sorry, mate, I lost it there. No excuse to take it out on you.”
“Forget it, pal. I’d have done the same.” Grimaldi paused, checking out the weary, battered faces of the men who had just boarded Dragon Slayer. “It may be a stupid question, but why has this Kang grabbed Anna?”
“I can tell you that,” Loy Hung said. He raised the backpack he had been carrying for what now seemed an eternity. “Because he knows we have this, and he wants it back.” He held up the stolen circuit board.
Grimaldi studied it for a moment. “Jesus, is that what this has all been about?”
“Part of it, mate,” McCarter said. “But right at this minute we have a pressing problem that needs sorting out before we do another damn thing.”
Grimaldi turned to look where McCarter was indicating and saw the menacing outline of a Chinese helicopter hovering over the downed transport chopper, taking its squad of troops back on board, prior to heading in the direction of Dragon Slayer.
“Where the hell did that come from?” James asked.
“Kang must have pulled in some heavy favors,” Encizo said.
“Excuse me, ladies, I have a guest to welcome,” Grimaldi said, easing past McCarter to slide into his seat. “Buckle up, people, we may be in for a bumpy ride. My, oh, my, just look at that big-assed baby. Come on, honey, let’s boogie.”
“HOW IRONIC,” Kang said. “I have you, and I also have the means to destroy your interfering American friends and also that circuit board. If I can’t take it back, the second option is to destroy it. Then the Americans will have nothing to accuse us over.”
“Kang, you can’t.”
“Of course I can. That is an American helicopter on Chinese soil. It holds an American strike team that has already caused a great deal of damage and killed many loyal soldiers of the State. They are criminal invaders. Isn’t it my job to defend my country?” Kang smiled. “Yes, it is.”
He picked up his handset and contacted the commander of the Mi-17V5/6.
“If they refuse to negotiate a surrender, I want that machine totally destroyed. Completely wiped out. Nothing left. You understand?”
“Understood, Major.”
Kang leaned forward to observe. “This should be interesting.”
Mei Anna said nothing. It was plain that Kang knew nothing about Dragon Slayer, or its capabilities. If he had, he wouldn’t have been so complacent.
GRIMALDI POWERED UP the twin turbines, easing Dragon Slayer into the air. He quickly reached altitude, arming the weapons system and locking in on his helmet’s visor display. The visor readout allowed him to aim and target by simple head movements. Grimaldi had spent many hours fine-tuning his abilities with the slave system, and combined with Dragon Slayer’s sophisticated computer feedback that was linked to the missile pods and multibarrel chain gun, he had at his control an awesome set of ordnance.
As he brought the combat chopper on a direct heading, Grimaldi studied the bulky configuration of the Chinese helicopter. He recognized it as an Mi-17V5/6. China had previously purchased a number of them from the former Soviet Union during the cooperative years. The Mi wasn’t a dedicated combat machine, it was more of a support, but it had been said that the Chinese had adapted some to carry weapons. Flicking through his internal database Grimaldi recalled that this armed version of the Mi had machine-gun pods and was capable of launching unguided rockets from its weapon cluster.
The Mi-17V powered forward, its nose dropping slightly as the pilot took manual aim, releasing one of his missiles in an attempt to force the confrontation and make a fast strike. The missile curved in toward Dragon Slayer, slower than even Grimaldi had anticipated. He touched the controls and rolled the combat chopper aside, the missile streaking past harmlessly. Having been able to assess the other aircraft’s potential, Grimaldi eased back and took Dragon Slayer in a swift climb, then leveled off. He brought the chopper around to bring the Mi ahead, and there was no hesitation in his actions when he locked on and launched a pair of heat-seeking missiles.
They streaked across the intervening space, sourcing the Mi-17V’s heat output and hit midway along the fuselage. The chopper was severely damaged by the explosions. With flame and smoke trailing its descent, the Chinese helicopter fell nose-down to impact with the ground. At the point of impact the structure collapsed along its length, flame erupting in a swirling fireball. Thick smoke began to burn off the wreckage and the crackle of exploding munitions was accompanied by arcing lines of bright sparks leaping from the burning mass.
Grimaldi leveled off and turned the chopper toward the downed troop transport, bringing the chain gun on line.
“Is it true these things can’t fly without rotors?” Grimaldi asked.
McCarter nodded. “So I heard.”
Grimaldi flew in close and opened fire, raking the rotor assembly with cannon fire. The concentrated burst from the six-barrel rotary weapon tore the housing and linkages apart, leaving the transport ship crippled in the ravine, rotors drooping limply.
“Kang,” McCarter said.
Grimaldi turned Dragon Slayer and they searched for Kang’s helicopter.
It had vanished.
“He can’t have disappeared just like that,” McCarter exploded. “Come on, Jack, we can find him.”
“He will have headed in-country,” Loy Hung said. “Back to Guang Lor, and he will call for more backup.”
“Where we can’t go,” Grimaldi said evenly. “Much as I’d like to. Look, this close to the border, we’ve already pushed our luck to the limit.”
He let his words hang in the silence, gently easing Dragon Slayer onto a course that would take them back into Afghanistan.
“And I need to get Tan to Bagram ASAP,” James said. “He needs intensive medical care.”
McCarter’s shoulders slumped in resignation. “I know. Take us home, Jack.”
Grimaldi opened a channel and relayed a message to Bagram, using the U.S. Military ComNet, informing them he was en route. As soon as he received acknowledgment, he switched to the satellite link that would patch him through to Stony Man. He made contact with Huntington Wethers.
“I still have you on satellite,” Wethers said. “Got you heading for the Afghan border. Nice image. Saw that run-in with the Chinese gunship.”
“Did you pick up the third bird that fled the scene?”
“Yes.”
“How long will you be able to track him?”
“I have a lock with the Slingshot satellite system. That and Zero station should allow me an overlap scan. Two, maybe three hours. Why?”
“We need to know where that chopper ends up and where the occupants go after that.”
“I’ll get what I can. So, hey, Jack, Phoenix come through?”
“I guess it’s Phoenix on board. They’re a sorry-looking bunch. They need sleep, food, patching up and a change of clothing, but I think I can recognize them.”
“They all got back, huh?”
“Except for Anna?”
“She isn’t…?”
“She’s alive, Hunt, but she’s one of the passengers on that chopper we need you to track.”
“Understood.”
“Unless we hear sooner, we’ll contact when we touch down at Bagram. Over and out.”
Computer Room, Stony Man Farm, Virginia
HUNTINGTON WETHERS RAN a hand
across his forehead. He could feel a slight headache starting. He leaned back, closing his eyes for a few seconds. The extra time he had spent staring at monitors for the past few hours was beginning to tell. Wethers kept his feelings to himself. He was no worse off than the rest of the cyberteam. They were all drawing long shifts at present. The ongoing mission, broken effectively into three operations, was commanding the entire facility.
While he was tracking the movements of the man he knew as Major Kang, Aaron Kurtzman was working on the data from Oliver Townsend’s computer. The team’s youngest member, Akira Tokaido, was assisting Kurtzman. Carmen Delahunt had the task of delving into the background of Townsend’s associate, CIA Agent Pete Tilman.
It was dedicated work, with little time for relaxing, but the cyberteam kept going. The lives of their people out in the field depended on Stony Man’s responses, and they had never been let down. The SOG worked seamlessly, with the backup personnel as much a part of the ongoing missions as the men facing the physical dangers. It was an unspoken bond.
A flashing alert caught Wethers’s attention. He scanned his monitors, checking the satellite images and the text data that accompanied them. The hard drive log was recording every piece of information that came in, ready for access when required. One of his peripheral monitors was a permanent listing of scans and data, allowing for speedy recall. Each section was assigned a code number, and all it took was a keystroke for Wethers to go back to a particular data stream.
He flicked to his large review monitor and tapped in a sequence. The screen flashed up the data he had asked for. Wethers studied it for a while, a slow smile crossing his face as he digested the information. It was just what he had been searching for. The answer Phoenix was waiting for.
Wethers reached for the satellite phone that would connect him with Dragon Slayer in Afghanistan.
China Crisis (Stony Man) Page 17