It was best to play along.
At least for now.
The lieutenant took the passport, examined it, then handed it back to Jimmy, but as he approached, his eyes opened wide and he pulled his handgun from its holster, shouting in Chinese, pointing at the back seat.
Jimmy shook his hands gently, still gripping the passport as he put on a smile that would have won him Miss Fort Bragg.
“It’s okay, we’re taking him to the hospital. Can you help us get there quicker? Perhaps an escort?”
The lieutenant, his weapon drifting between the rear seat, Jimmy, and back, suddenly focused on Jimmy, his eyes narrowing as he appeared to make a decision.
Oh shit!
Dawson wished they had kept some of those guns, but even then, the situation would have been hopeless.
But at least you’d have gone down fighting.
Endless years, countless missions, and he’d always made it out alive. Sometimes it was by the skin of his teeth, sometimes it was with a sucking chest wound, but he always made it out. To die in China, as a bystander in a goddamned coup?
That just wasn’t acceptable.
“Now.”
Jimmy dropped his right foot hard on the accelerator, lifting the left foot from the brake, his two foot driver technique saving him a precious half-second. The car surged backward, shocking the lieutenant, who fired. Dawson ducked as the bullet slammed into the windshield. There was a thud then the car bounced several times and Dawson saw the two soldiers who had been behind them roll out from the front of the car as if deposited by the tiny vehicle.
Gunfire erupted and they all ducked when Jimmy cursed.
“What?”
“Look!” he said, pointing behind them.
Dawson looked forward first and saw the soldiers were all shooting at the sky as opposed to at them. He spun around and saw two fighters racing down the road directly toward them.
“Hope that’s not for us!”
“Can’t be, BD, why waste ordnance like those things are carrying on a civilian vehicle?”
A missile dropped from the lead fighter’s wing, followed by a second, both streaking toward them.
“I hope you’re right!” yelled Dawson, his voice getting louder with each word as the missiles neared.
“You and me both, boss!”
The missiles roared past, the jets not far behind, their cannons opening up, Dawson and Jimmy both ducking, realizing the pilot would have no worries about wasting bullets on them. Dawson spun around and felt a surge of hope as the two tanks blocking their way took direct hits, blasting their hulls open, tossing them back a dozen feet.
“Do you see what I see?” he asked as Jimmy raised his head.
Jimmy nodded and slammed the brakes on, then put the car in drive, hammering on the gas. They surged forward, Jimmy jerking the car to the side, the street torn to shreds by the cannons, their would be killers lying either dead, wounded, or scattered. The car raced past the carnage, directly toward the flaming tanks.
“We’re not going to fit!” yelled Dawson as one of the tanks spasmed forward, closing the gap by several feet.
“We’ll fit!” yelled Jimmy, still accelerating. The rattle of automatic weapons erupted from behind them, and the rear window took several hits causing the girls to scream and the Ambassador to moan. Dawson reached back with a hand and put it reassuringly on Juan’s shoulder as the car raced toward the two flaming hulks, one of them still partially operational, its engine engaged, jerking forward inches at a time, sometimes feet.
“Hang on!” yelled Jimmy as he aimed the car at the tank that was slightly farther back, its partner slowly shuddering toward it. They blasted past the spasming tank then Jimmy slammed on the brakes, spinning the wheel with one hand, hauling on the emergency brake with the other. The car skidded sideways, slamming into the rear tank, then Jimmy floored it again, releasing the hand brake, and darted forward, the hull of the other tank mere inches from Dawson’s door as they pulled clear.
“And the letter of the day is effin’ A!” yelled Jimmy with a smile as the car turned a corner, out of the line of fire.
Dawson simply sat back in his seat, performing some tactical breathing to bring his heart rate down. His eyes darted to a group of signs and he pointed.
“Hospital.”
Jimmy nodded, cranking the wheel down the street indicated.
As they did they both sucked in a breath as two choppers made a low pass overhead, apparently not interested in them.
We’ve gotta get off the streets.
North of the Forbidden City, Beijing, China
“You’re certain that’s the man you saw?”
It was Inspector Li that asked the question, and Laura furiously nodded. “Absolutely. And there was a Qing Dynasty flag on the wall behind him.”
“Qing?” asked Niner.
“They were the last of the emperors to rule China. Gold flag with a blue dragon,” explained Acton. He turned to Laura. “You’re sure you saw that flag?”
“Absolutely.”
Niner made an expression suggesting he found the thought ‘cool’, and put the car back in gear with a motion from Spock.
“Where are you going?” demanded Laura.
Spock turned around to face them. “Away from here, Professor. We’re in the middle of a war zone.”
“But we need to stop this.”
“I’d love to, and I’m open to suggestions how.”
Acton frowned at the tone, but realized the pressure and frustration Spock must be operating under, especially considering Laura’s demand. How do we, five people in a car, stop an army hell-bent on taking over? And that wasn’t the only thing that came to mind. He also wondered if they should. Should they interfere in the natural course of a country’s development?
He thought of the Arab Spring, and how the West was so eager to get involved, especially in Egypt and Libya. Now what was the result? Most of the countries that had successfully overthrown their secular dictators had fallen under Islamist control, with Egypt even bringing in a new constitution so heavily laden with Islamic philosophies, they risked becoming the next Iran.
I’d hate to be a Christian in Egypt now.
And here they were in China. A country slowly progressing politically, rapidly progressing economically. Would this coup bring in greater freedoms for their people? It might, but he doubted it. If someone was using the Qing Dynasty as their reasoning, then most likely a megalomaniac was at the helm, with visions of a throne and worshippers dancing through his head. And if his method of takeover was to massacre thousands of innocent children, then one thing that could be said with all honesty, was that the new regime was certainly no better than the old.
But Inspector Li had apparently already made up his mind.
“The professor is correct. We must stop this if we can.”
“And again I ask how?”
“We need to find the headquarters we escaped from. If we can find that, then we can stop them,” said Laura.
Spock nodded, and Acton could see the wheels turning through the thoughtful eyes.
“Where is it?” he asked.
“It moved.” Laura sighed. “I don’t know where to. When we escaped, we had to jump out of the back because they were repositioning.”
Something flashed in Acton’s mind, a memory of something he had noticed on their rush here.
“What’s it look like?” he asked.
“Like a huge semi-trailer, armored, camouflaged, with a bunch of antennae and satellite dishes on the roof,” replied Laura.
Acton’s heart pounded a little faster as the description matched up with what he was remembering.
“I’ve seen that!” he exclaimed. “On our way here, we drove right past it!”
This had Spock turning in his seat to face him.
“Where?”
“I don’t know Beijing, I just know we passed a parking lot, and the vehicle Laura described was there, with a bunch of other milita
ry vehicles. I thought it was some sort of staging area.”
“Was it before or after the road block we avoided?”
Acton had to think about that for a moment.
“After, just after as a matter of fact. You had pulled the u-ey, and we had just turned onto a side street, parallel to the main road that was blocked. Niner called in a sit rep.”
“I know exactly where that is,” said Niner, pressing down on the accelerator a little harder. “We’ll be there in less than five minutes.”
Li leaned forward. “How do you know Beijing so well?”
Spock and Niner exchanged glances.
“As part of our embassy training, we’re required to familiarize ourselves with each city we visit.”
“Uh huh.” Li leaned back in his seat, apparently unconvinced.
They drove in silence for several minutes, everyone just catching their breath for the action yet to come. Spock pointed ahead.
“Slow down, I think we’re coming up on it. We’ll cover the last bit on foot.”
Niner nodded, easing off the gas then pulling into an empty parking spot. They all climbed out, probably making a none too innocent looking group, all of them disheveled in some way. As they quickly walked down the street, toward the presumed location of the headquarters coordinating this insanity, Acton tried to straighten his hair with his fingers.
Laura took him by the arm and shook her head.
“Don’t bother, Dear, it’s hopeless.”
He smiled as he brushed the matted hair from her face, then looked ahead at a gap between two tall apartment buildings, realizing they must be almost there.
I hope it didn’t move again.
Bo Yang’s Mobile Headquarters, Beijing, China
The crack of gunshots brought the room to a halt. Bo didn’t react, he already expecting what had just happened. And the fact there was no additional shouting or shots, pretty much confirmed it. The door to the control room opened, and General Liang entered, holstering his weapon.
“The traitor is dead,” he said matter-of-factly. “But we have a problem.”
“What?”
“He hedged his bets.”
“Meaning?”
“He played us and them. He had his air units from Qionglai dispatched on a training exercise, flying Combat Air Patrols near the city, fully armed, as soon as our operation started.”
Bo could feel himself turning red with anger. He let go the breath he was holding with a burst, trying to ease the death grip he had on his palms.
“What do you mean?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“Before I shot him he said he wanted them in place in case things went wrong, then they could be ordered in by the regime, and if they prevailed, he would look like the hero. If we prevailed, he would claim it wasn’t him who gave the order. Either way he’d come out a winner.”
“And you showed him otherwise.”
Liang shrugged.
“He got what he deserved as a traitor.”
“Some would call us traitors,” muttered Bo.
Liang shook his head and strode to the head of the room.
“No, we are patriots. We are doing this not for ourselves, but for our country, to make it strong again, under one man. You. And with one man in power, unanswerable to those who have only their own interests at heart, China will be even greater than it is now. The world will tremble at the roar of the dragon once more!” He stretched out his arms, encompassing all that were sitting at their terminals, monitoring the situation. “Who do we serve?” he yelled.
“Bo! Bo! Bo!” they all responded in rapid unison.
Liang smiled as he walked back to Bo’s desk.
“We serve you. You who would make us strong again.” He sighed. “But, our traitor’s actions have caused a problem. We will lose air superiority very shortly.”
Bo nodded.
What else can go wrong?
“Sir!”
“What is it?” demanded Liang.
But the subordinate didn’t reply, his expression suggesting he was too terrified to speak the words. Instead, he handed a report to his General.
“What? That’s impossible!”
“What?” asked Bo, preparing himself for more bad news.
“Our units at the Zhongnanhai Complex are reporting that they are already being engaged by the 32nd!”
“What?” exploded Bo, smashing his fist into the keyboard in front of him, snapping it in half. “Send in everything we have! We must have control of that complex or all is lost!”
Outside Bo Yang’s Mobile Headquarters, Beijing, China
“Something’s happening.”
It was Inspector Li who broke the silence with his whispered observation. Engines were firing up, and the several hundred troops who were idle a moment before, were rushing toward their vehicles. Tanks, troop carriers and what Acton would describe as jeep-type vehicles began to roll from the large parking lot that had indeed been a staging area as Acton had originally thought.
A staging area that protected the mobile headquarters containing Bo Yang with so many troops, any type of attack by a five person squad would be useless. Li had already phoned his boss on Niner’s satellite phone, a Superintendent Hong, giving him the location, but they had no idea when help might arrive, if ever.
And the sounds of the battle in and around Tiananmen were mere blocks away, the viciousness of it evident by the flashes on the clouds covering the night sky, and from the plumes of smoke rising around the city, the violence by no means appeared contained.
As they watched the parking lot empty of men and vehicles, Acton began to worry the mobile HQ may move again, and expressed his concern.
Spock agreed. “Niner, better go get the car, bring it a little closer. We’ll tail them if we have to.”
Niner nodded and sprinted back from where they had come. By the time he returned, the parking lot was nearly empty, with only two jeeps and four men outside.
“Ballsy leaving your HQ undefended,” observed Niner.
“Or desperate. Those guys left here in a hurry. I don’t think that was planned,” replied Spock.
“Either way, it’s an opportunity,” said Niner. “We could take out these guys no problem, clear the HQ, and Bob’s your uncle, coup over.”
Spock shook his head. “We’ve interfered enough by reporting the position. It’s up to the Chinese to sort this out. If we get caught involved in this, it would cause an international incident that could ultimately lead to war.”
Li looked at them both, then chambered a round in his weapon.
“I am Chinese, and I’m going.”
And with that he strode across the road, walking directly toward the parking lot, his white dress shirt untucked and covered in the blood from his dead partner, and the dirt and soot from hitting the deck countless times.
“We can’t let him go alone!” cried Laura.
Spock frowned, all eyes on him, as he weighed his options. Finally sighing, he nodded. “But I want you two to stay here,” he said, pointing at Acton and Laura.
Laura shook her head.
“Your chances at success are better with us. We’re trained, you know that.”
Spock sighed again, apparently not liking the fact he was dealing with civilians who were right, but still a liability, his training going against everything that was about to take place.
“Fine. Six of them, four of us here, Li’s not in on the plan so we’ll count him out. Professor Acton, you take the target on the left, Palmer the second from the left. Niner the next two, I’ll take the two on the right. We’re drunken tourists, people, so let’s put on a show.”
Acton threw his arm around Laura, Niner around Spock, and they strode around the corner they had been hiding.
“I shware, if she spoke Engrish, Ida married her,” yelled Niner, stumbling over the curb. “But she di’nt undershtand a word I was shaying. But she was sooooooo bewteeful!”
“That she was,” agreed Spock as he
half carried Niner across the street.
“Yer so lucky, Jim. You gotta girl who loves you, and is hot to boot!”
“You got that right,” laughed Acton, grinning at Laura who was shaking her head at Niner.
“You’ll find someone,” she said. “But even if she speaks English, I don’t think she’ll take too kindly to you throwing up on her like you did that poor girl.”
They all laughed as they climbed the curb beside the parking lot, Inspector Li having heard them and had stopped to wait, apparently figuring out what was going on.
“We’re drunken tourists, you’re leading us back to where we can get a cab,” whispered Spock.
Li nodded and pointed through the parking lot.
“Right through here, then one block, we’ll be on the main road. You can get a cab to your hotel there,” he said, a little too loudly, his days of roleplaying apparently long behind him.
They left the sidewalk and entered the parking lot, the six guards having taken notice of them, all now standing, weapons at the ready, but aimed at the ground for now.
“Oh, Laura, if you weren’t engaged, I’d be all over you right now,” slurred Niner who then stumbled to his knees and pretended to dry heave.
“Ready,” whispered Spock without moving his lips.
Acton reached behind his back, scratching it, as one of the soldiers approached, yelling something in Chinese and waving with his hands, apparently suggesting, or more likely insisting, they go around.
Spock’s voice was a whisper. “On three, two, one, now.”
Acton gripped the handgun tucked in his belt, pulled it out and took aim at the target on the left as he stepped away from Laura to give her room. Before he could squeeze the trigger Niner and Spock had taken out their four targets. He quickly fired two rounds, and his target went down, just as Laura did the same.
Niner and Spock rushed forward, confirming the kills and began dragging the bodies out of sight. Acton grabbed his kill, pulling him toward the rapidly building pile near the side of the mobile HQ. He felt kind of queasy looking down at the man whose life he had just snuffed out, this, if memory served, being the first time he had killed someone then dragged their body somewhere. He had killed before, even with his bare hands, but after the kill, he had quickly disassociated himself with the body, but now here he was struggling to pull the dead weight of a human being out of sight so he could kill more of his comrades.
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