“That’s one in our favor, Boss!” James said over his shoulder, as he kept the glasses focused on the surrounding water.
Adler wanted an explanation of the previous conversation. “C’mon. Finish the story.”
Grant just started to respond when Novak shouted, “Bad news, Boss! I think we’re in trouble!” He continued looking through the scope.
Grant grabbed binoculars, then scooted near him. “Where?!”
“Off our six!”
“And our eight!” Slade shouted from the port side.
Two gunboats had been spotted. “There’s no way in hell they could know which boat we’re on!” Grant said under his breath. He moved the glasses, spotting another. “At our seven! They’ve already caught up to one. Christ! They’re boarding her!” He yelled at Adler, “Joe! Take the wheel!”
Adler rushed to the wheel, stepping in front of Kwan. “Got it!”
Kwan fell to his knees, crawling away, taking a position next to the starboard door. He drew his weapon from his back waistband.
Grant had to make a decision. “Dao! Back here!”
The agent ducked low and met up with Grant who was lying on his belly. “We need extra time! Those boats might have glasses on us. I want you on the stern. Just act like you’re getting gear together. Maybe it’ll slow them down, send them after another boat. Copy?”
“Understand,” Kwan answered with a quick nod, as he handed Grant his weapon. He stepped around Grant and Novak, then quickly rolled up his sleeves and pant legs. The boat pitched and yawed, as it encountered three foot swells. He held onto the door as he went out on deck. He positioned himself on the port side, allowing Grant and Novak a clear, unobstructed view.
Small nets were draped over blue barrels used to stow squid. All the fishing gear aboard this boat hadn’t been touched. He began his task of unraveling nets, moving the barrels. Every chance he got he tried to get a look at the gunboats. He tilted his head, trying to look overhead. No jets, no planes, no chopper. Nothing.
Diaz crawled to the starboard side, midships, raising his glasses. “Holy fuck! Another one at our four!”
“What distance?!” Grant shouted.
“Five hundred yards!”
“Time to kick it in the ass, Joe!” There weren’t too many choices: Stay at a slow speed or make a run for it. Either way, they were in a shitload of trouble.
*
Aboard Chinese Gunship
Number 063
Standing next to the helm, Lieutenant Mingli Wan looked out of the corner of his eye at Colonel Tao Chiu. With orders directly from Beijing, the colonel was in charge of finding those who caused the explosions in Shanghai, those who killed the enlisted men and officers. And now he was to search for Americans.
A loud, continuous rumble sounded from the stern, as the engine of the gunboat idled. The coxswain had one hand on the wheel, the other on the throttle, ready to continue with its pursuit of the next fishing boat.
Chiu watched intently as the men jumped onto the deck of still another vessel. They raced through the cabin, searching from bow to stern. Within no time, they headed back to the gunboat, shaking their heads.
Chiu pressed the binoculars against his eyes, moving the glasses constantly, looking for the next target. He put his arm out, bracing himself before nearly losing his balance as the gunboat’s engine roared to life. Immediately turning to starboard, the coxswain began his chase after another fishing boat.
Chiu was taking a huge risk chasing these vessels. He didn’t have any proof the Americans were out here. He was going entirely on instinct. There were still at least twenty boats to board, and none were in close proximity to one another. They all looked similar, but that made no difference. Every one had to be searched. The gunboats were fast. This one was already within a hundred yards of the next boat.
*
Adler pushed the throttle forward. The boat responded slowly, then picked up speed. It was gaining on two fishing boats directly ahead. But it wasn’t moving fast enough. “Come on! Come on!” he said through clenched teeth.
“Joe!”
“Doing the best I can, Skipper! She doesn’t have a helluva lot in her!”
Grant turned his attention again to the gunboats. For the time being, there wasn’t a helluva lot more he or the Team could do. “Doc!” he shouted. “Go forward! Look for any sign of the fleet or chopper!”
Stalley slung the strap of his Uzi over his head, then immediately took up a position near Adler. Placing the glasses against his eyes, he scanned the horizon. “Nothin’ yet!”
It didn’t take long for a gunboat to catch another slow-moving fishing boat. And it didn’t take long to determine Americans weren’t on board. Uniformed men with rifles balanced themselves along the port side of a fishing boat, reaching for rope ladders hanging from the gunboat. Once all men were aboard, the coxswain immediately hit the throttle, sending the vessel racing forward. Hardly clear of the small boat, he spun the wheel hard to port. A large wash of seawater sprayed out from under the craft as it took aim at another vessel.
“Dao! Get in here!” Grant shouted. Kwan hurried in, falling to the deck, scooting toward the starboard side.
Grant pushed himself up, then keeping low, he rushed forward, heading for the radio. He grabbed the mike. “Alpha Tango, calling Ageless Warrior! Come in Ageless Warrior! Over!”
“Ageless Warrior. Go ahead, Alpha Tango. Over!”
“Gunboats in pursuit! I say again! Gunboats in pursuit!” Grant kept the mike “open” for the radio operator to hear what the hell was happening.
Stalley leaned closer to the windshield, then shouted, “Ships at our one! And they’re ours!”
Without even waiting for Grant’s order, Adler immediately spun the wheel, setting a course for the fleet.
Grant called into the mike, “We have fleet in sight! I say again. We. . .”
Gunfire made everyone’s blood run cold. The sound of a 25 mm gun. But the shots seemed to be warning shots, as rounds hit fifty yards off the port beam, then more whizzed by overhead.
Grant held the mike close to his mouth. “Taking fire! I say again. Taking fire! Over!”
“Copy that, Alpha Tango! Standby!”
Grant pulled the mike away, just staring at it. “What the fuck? Standby?!”
Stalley shouted, “Sir! I see a chopper! It’s just. . .it’s keeping present position! Hovering!”
Shit was happening fast and furious. But suddenly they realized how quiet it had become. Shots were no longer being fired.
Novak reported, “Boss! The gunboats seem to be holding positions, no longer advancing.”
Another voice sounded from the radio, but this time radio procedures were being tossed. “Alpha Tango, this is the Captain speaking. Over.”
Grant and Adler just looked at each other. They both stood up cautiously. Grant responded, “Alpha Tango here. Over.”
“Everyone has been ordered to stand down. Do you copy Alpha Tango? Over.”
Grant could only shake his head. “Request repeat. Over.”
“All parties are to stand down by order of President Carr and Chairman Xiaoping. Orders are being given to the gunboats as we speak. Do you copy? Over.”
“Copy that. Over.” Everyone inside the cabin began to get up off the deck, looking outside, seeing the gunboats holding their positions. The remaining fishing boats had hauled ass, and were nearly out of sight.
Grant suspected he was about to hear more. He was right. “Alpha Tango, you are to handover deuce canisters to a Colonel Chiu aboard gunship number zero six three. Do. . .you. . .copy? Over.”
“Copy that. Zero six three. Over.”
“At completion, make contact with us. We have boat standing by for your extraction. Do you copy? Over”
“Copy that. Number for extraction is one three. I say again. One three. Do you copy? Over.” Better to be ready, than surprised, Grant thought.
There was a moment of silence before Gregson responded, �
�One three. Copy that. Out.”
Grant let the mike drop. “Put her in neutral, Joe. But just. . .”
“I’ll be ready, Skipper.”
Grant nodded, then walked near Diaz. “Frank, you got the two cans?” As Diaz opened his rucksack, Grant looked at Novak. “Mike, keep your eyes open.”
“Roger that, Boss,” Novak responded, continuing to look through the scope. The other men slowly knelt down, keeping their weapons in hand but out of sight.
“DJ! Quick! Cut some of that net to hold these things!”
James went out through the starboard door and quickly sliced up a long section of net with his K-bar, then grabbed one of the bamboo poles hanging off the roof. He rushed back into the cabin. “Here ya go, Boss. Think this’ll work?” he asked laying the pole on the deck.
“Good idea, DJ. C’mon. Help me.”
Both men got down on their knees, unraveled the net, then carefully rolled it around the canisters until they were completely encased. James sliced a short section, just enough to tie it to the pole.
Grant stood. The end of the pole bent from the weight. “It’ll have to do.”
Novak reported, “Gunboat coming alongside our port.”
“Heads up, guys.” Grant stood near the wheel, port side, hearing a continuous sound of rumbling engines.
He stepped on the narrow deck, then watched the approaching gunboat. Standing with his legs apart, balancing himself on the rolling boat, he waited, keeping the pole securely in his hand. The tip of the pole bent further from the weight. The canisters swayed back and forth.
Men lined the sides of the gunboat. Each man held an AK47. Each weapon was aimed at the fishing boat. Two men stood by the forward gun mount.
At the starboard bow a Chinese Army officer adjusted his cap. A bandage was visible just above his eyes. Then he stepped closer to the deck rail, looking directly down at Grant. Following close behind the officer was an enlisted man.
The gunboat coxswain had already backed down the engines to all slow, then brought them to idle. The boat was within a few feet of the fishing boat, drifting against it, knocking the smaller vessel sideways.
Grant held steady, giving Chiu a nod. He showed him the netting, then lifted the pole high. The net sagged from its heavy contents. Grant stretched up as far as he could.
The Chinese enlisted man bent over the rail, grabbed the pole tip, and pulled it from Grant’s hand. Then, holding the pole vertically by his side, he stood at attention as the officer inspected the contents.
Waiting until the officer gave him a nod of approval, Grant snapped a quick two finger salute, then he ducked back into the cabin.
Chiu examined the canisters again before motioning for the enlisted man to take them away. Then he turned his gaze to the fishing boat. A call from Beijing had been totally unexpected, especially when he was given the order to stand-down. He had to let all of them go, those who he suspected had maimed and killed his comrades from the Peoples Liberation Army.
Beijing did indicate that it had an interest in hearing his theory about the CIA operative, especially when they learned of the intercepted transmissions, when an American spy had become so careless.
Chiu turned away, and slowly walked to the bridge as he began to wonder. Maybe the operative hadn’t been so careless after all. Maybe he, Chiu, was the careless one. Had he been lured to that house on purpose, at that particular time, allowing the others to destroy the property in old Shanghai and then escape?
He stopped just outside the bridge doorway. He turned and leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse of men inside the cabin of the fishing boat. Was it possible? Was the operative with these other Americans? Or would his search continue once he returned to Shanghai? He began walking along the deck toward the bow.
Standing just inside the cabin, Grant said, “Okay, Joe. Get us outta here.”
Adler nodded, then pushed the throttle forward, barely enough to get the boat moving. Old tires, hanging from the port side rail, dragged along the hull of the gunboat.
“Are we clear?” Adler asked as he kept his eyes straight ahead, with one hand on the throttle, one on the wheel.
Grant leaned his head out the doorway, looking forward then aft. “Clear.” Adler advanced the throttle.
Taking a step outside the cabin, Grant glanced back, seeing Chiu standing at the bow. The gunboat’s engines roared to life, almost simultaneously of the coxswain swinging the wheel hard to port. A wash of seawater sprayed over the small boat as swells caused it to rock back and forth.
Once they were in the clear, Grant returned to the cabin, wiping seawater from his face before he reached for the mike. “Alpha Tango calling Ageless Warrior. Come in Ageless Warrior. Over.”
“Ageless Warrior. Go ahead, Alpha Tango. Over.”
“Transfer complete. I say again. Transfer complete. We have you in sight. Will wait for transportation. Do you copy? Over.”
“Copy that. Captain gives a thumb’s up. Over.”
“Roger. Out.”
Grant stashed the mike in the small compartment with the radio, then said, “Okay, men. Guess you can go out on deck and get some fresh air.”
“Thanks, Boss!” Novak said, finally standing up, stretching his back.
“Almost couldn’t hold my breath much longer,” Slade laughed.
James chimed in. “We could all do with a wash-down!” he stated, sniffing under his arms.
“You’ll all get your chance soon enough,” Grant laughed. “DJ, Frank, it’s time to uncover our ‘guests.’ Get rid of the duct tape on their mouths, then bring in the one named ‘Lin.’” As Stalley started to go on deck, Grant said quietly, “Doc, keep an eye on Kwan. Here.” He reached behind him, taking out the Norinco. “Hold this. If he asks for it, tell him I said he’ll get it back when we land in Virginia.”
“Roger.”
Adler asked, “So, you gonna finish your story?”
Grant leaned against the doorway, breathing in the refreshing sea breeze. He folded his arms across his chest, then responded, “Just a theory, of course, but I’ll bet your ass we’ve got ourselves another CIA or embassy ‘turncoat.’”
Adler snapped his head left, staring at him with surprise. “What?! Are you shittin’ me?!”
Grant shook his head. “Only explanation I can come up with, Joe. How the hell do you think he was able to learn about the plutonium being stolen, or our men being captured, then being held at Bridge House?”
Adler got the picture. “He intercepted one of those transmissions between Kwan and Langley.”
“Roger that.”
“Holy shit!” Adler spit out. “How come we keep finding these bastards on our watch?”
“Good thing we do,” Grant answered as he watched Diaz bringing Lin through the starboard side doorway.
Lin’s face and hair had streaks of dried salt water. His lips were white and chapped, his clothes wet, rumpled.
Grant walked closer, motioned to Diaz, who immediately grabbed the man’s arm, pulling him down on the deck. Diaz stepped back. “You want me to stay?”
“Go take in more of that fresh air.” Diaz nodded then left.
Grant stood directly in front of Lin, who refused to look up. “Joe, how much farther?” Grant asked over his shoulder.
“Less than two miles, but looks like there’s some rough weather coming in.”
“Won’t matter. We’ll be on board the ‘mother ship’ by then.” Grant squatted down, getting eye to eye with Lin. With each statement, he counted with a finger. “I know who you work for. I know what you’ve done. I know what you planned on doing.” He grabbed Lin’s arm and jerked him up, as he stood. “And to tell you the truth, none of us like what you did. And especially what you did to our friends.”
Lin finally spoke. “They were already beaten up when we got there! We could have just left them!”
Grant was nearly toe to toe with him. “So, let me get this straight. You’re telling me that you ‘rescued’ them, but
then decided to use them as part of your goddamn political statement?!” Lin remained silent. Grant backed away. “Hey, Joe, does anybody beside us know we’ve got these guys?”
“Nobody,” Adler answered, keeping his eyes straight ahead, focused on the ships in the distance.
Lin glanced over his shoulder, seeing only miles of open blue water. But he refused to show any fear, and, instead, became defiant. “You Americans!”
“Oh, ‘we’ Americans? I’ll bet your ass you’re an American. Aren’t you?!”
Lin avoided answering, but said, “You’re taking away Taiwan’s freedom as a country, as a people. You’re making us become part of Communist China! We had every right to. . .”
Grant shoved him backward, hard. Lin lost his balance and fell, smacking his head on the deck. Grant knelt on one knee, pulling him up by the front of his jacket. “And what you were about to do--and to possibly thousands of innocent people--would have been nothing more than a callous, murderous act, you bastard!
“And what about Ang?! You didn’t even think twice about him. All you wanted was the plutonium. All he wanted was his freedom. And you took that away, then his life! Didn’t you?!” Grant let go of the jacket, causing Lin to fall. As Grant stood over him, keeping his eyes on the man, he said in a low, menacing voice, “Don’t talk to me about political bullshit, because I don’t like political bullshit.”
As Grant backed away, he finally took his eyes from Lin, and saw the Team watching him from outside the windows. He put his hands on his hips, and looked down again. “You know, I think we’ll just wait and turn you and your two friends over to the ‘Cowboys.’ You know them, don’t you?
“Just for your information, they’ve got these special little rooms hidden away somewhere in the Blue Ridge. In time, they’ll get all the answers they’re looking for. We’ll get our answers then.”
He turned and went forward, then stood next to the wheel. Adler gave him a sideways look. As Grant reached for the mike, he gave Adler a wink. Adler just shook his head.
Shanghai Mission Page 14