“Risking an international incident by attacking US service men and abducting two citizens seems a little brazen to me,” Mark countered.
Frank couldn’t believe how casually Mark was passing this off. “Considering what those two know, I think it’s an exact match for the Chinese’s MO.”
“They didn’t know anything about what went on in that chamber, and depending how tight lipped Alex and Professor Russell wind up being they still may not know,” Mark concluded. “It had to be something else.”
“Maybe the archeological experiments are what they’re after,” Frank suggested. “It was certainly useful at finding new chambers inside the pyramid and Sphinx. Maybe they have other areas of Egypt they want to have a peek at?”
“Or back in China,” Mark pondered. The long pause that followed let Frank know his partner was clearly conflicted on how to proceed. Finally the orders came. “I wanted you to handle securing the tunnel exit and the Giza plateau while I went back to the states to chat with that Hastelloy character, but that has to change.”
“Now I need you watching the archeologists and their new friends,” Mark continued. “They will eventually have to transport them somewhere. When they do, be ready to track them, snatch them back, or kill them. Whatever you determine the situation calls for because the sensitive information both of them carry is too dangerous to leave in the hands of the Chinese for very long.”
“What resources are available to help me do that?” Frank asked.
“None I’m afraid. I need the remaining SEAL team securing the tunnel entrance. Assets from all over Europe, Africa and the Middle East are en route, but I have a feeling the Chinese will move the archeologists long before they arrive.”
“Outstanding,” Frank said with a bright, cheery voice that definitely did not match his mood. The Chinese took out a Humvee full of heavily armed Navy SEALs, and now he was supposed to handle them with what, his charm and winning smile? Mark was right though, the tunnel entrance was the immediate priority. He would have to come up with something.
“What about you?” Frank asked. “You need to hightail it stateside to get some answers from that wack job holding your brother.”
“Don’t remind me. Looks like I will just have to give Terrance another call and let him know he needs to actually earn his paycheck this week,” Mark replied just before ending the call.
Frank rested his head against the side wall of the ambulance and closed his eyes to think for a few minutes. Moments later his eyes snapped open and he looked down at the data screen again. He pulled up a search window that would eventually pull down all the registered flight plans for the airports in and around Cairo. He was very keen to find any that were recently filed for private aircraft heading east.
When he found what he was looking for, Frank reached ahead to the front seat and tapped the driver on the shoulder, “Head for the charter gates of Cairo International Airport. I have a plane to catch.”
Chapter 29: Catching a Flight
With the ambulance parked just a quarter mile from the charter flight gates of Cairo International Airport, Frank rummaged through the storage cabinets looking for useful supplies. Pillows, a defibrillator, IV bags and syringes were all tossed aside haphazardly until he finally located a portable oxygen tank. He quickly stuffed the two feet long, six inch diameter cylinder along with a breathing mask attached into a carrying bag. To that he added a heavy duty insulated blanket along with an ear piece and fingernail sized listening device he procured from the driver. He then looked back at his data screen once more.
Nobody had left the Chinese embassy just yet, but the presence of four escort cars outside let him know their departure was imminent. Assuming they left the instant Frank stepped out of the ambulance, he figured he had at least fifteen minutes before they reached the airport to board the chartered plane.
The field agent who drove the ambulance had already used a set of high-powered binoculars to locate the correct hangar. The plane with a registered flight plan going to China sat with a flight crew undergoing final checks for departure.
“Do you want me to stick around or cause a distraction for you,” the driver asked as Frank made ready to open the passenger door.
“No, I don’t want to raise any suspicions that we are onto them yet. Just make sure our asset in the air traffic control tower knows what to do,” Frank answered and then slipped quietly out of the ambulance. Before shutting the door the driver added a word of caution.
“Be careful with that oxygen tank. If it were to explode while that plane was in flight it would likely do enough damage to take even an aircraft that large out of the sky.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Frank said to himself as he silently closed the door and pressed on it with both hands and his body weight until he heard a soft latch. Then he slung the carrying bag over his shoulder, crossed the street and headed between two concrete buildings with a section of twelve foot tall fencing topped with razor wire tilting outward to prevent unwanted entry.
Frank climbed the fence until he stood just below the razor wire. With two feet and a hand firmly anchored into the chain-link fencing, he pulled the blanket out of his bag and flopped it over the top of the razor wire. He then reached up and felt around until his probing hand located a section of covered wire between the jagged barbs. He reached up with his other hand and located a similar hold.
Even with the thick blanket as protection, Frank could tell this was going to hurt – a lot. With a simultaneous pull from his arms and jump from his legs, Frank hoisted his torso up onto the covered wiring. He leaned his weight onto his chest and then lifted his legs up and over the barrier. As the momentum of his legs caused his chest to pivot on the wire one hundred eighty degrees, Frank felt the agonizing bite of a dozen razor blades penetrate the blanket and his clothing to carve up his chest. It was all he could do not to release his grip, go fetal, and have a good cry in the corner while nursing his wounds.
With his legs now dangling on the airport side of the fence, Frank relocated his hands down to the fence and gratefully pulled his chest off of the covered wiring. He untangled the blanket and draped it over his shoulder as he frantically scurried back down to the ground and crouched low between two metal sided hangars while he packed the blanket back into his bag.
He resisted the urge to look down at his chest to inspect the damage. The nearly unbearable pain let him know it was bad, and looking at it would only make it hurt that much worse. He smeared a hand over his chest and looked at the result. To his surprise only a few light dabs of blood were present, so at least he would not leave a trail of DNA for somebody to find later.
It would have been considerably easier and less painful to use wire cutters on the fence, but he needed his entry to be undetected. Nothing said a bad guy got in like a section of fence between buildings all cut up. The damage would likely go unnoticed for a while, but the Chinese were nothing if not thorough with their security details. It would be spotted eventually and then the already stringent security would tighten up to be nearly impenetrable.
Frank made his way between the hangars until pausing a few steps from the opening. He was positioned right at the elbow of a ninety degree turn of the jet taxiway that led down a path with hangars flanking it on either side. The target hangar was inconveniently located across the jet taxiway two hangars down on the left. Frank had a perfect view into the large open air hangar featuring a wide body plane parked in the center with four wing mounted engines idling with a fuel truck feeding it.
A cursory review of the hangar’s security confirmed what the other agent already told Frank. At least six cameras canvassed the building inside and out along with eight men wearing dark suits patrolling the vicinity. Breaching security that tight would be nearly impossible, but the good Lord blessed Frank with a heavy brain pan and a set of stones to use it.
Frank patiently waited among the shadows between the two hangars until the Chinese caravan finally arrived from
the embassy. They hastily loaded Professor Russell and Alex on board without any signs of a fuss. Immediately after everyone boarded the plane the rickety steps were rolled away, the outer door was locked shut and the engines powered up to send the plane taxiing directly toward Frank’s position. They certainly were itching to get on the move.
When the Chinese plane began rolling, Frank also spotted a small sized private plane heading toward him from the right. The two planes looked destined to collide right at the bend where Frank had so strategically positioned himself. As the colossal Chinese aircraft completed the turn it came face to face with the relatively tiny incoming plane and skidded to a halt. The two planes stared each other down in a contest that could only be described as David against Goliath. A moment passed and little David began turning around to make way for Goliath.
While that little drama played out right in front of Frank, he dashed out from his cover and jumped onto the stationary set of tires on the plane’s back right side. He quickly climbed his way up into the wheel well and pushed open the heavy metal hatch that allowed him entry into the craft’s underbelly.
Frank tossed his bag into the plane and then he followed it and shut the wheel well lid behind him. If the Chinese security detail was paying close enough attention they would have had about five seconds to notice Frank’s movements among the tires and struts of the landing gear. If he was spotted he would know it in just a few seconds as an onboard security detail would come storming into the plane’s cargo hold underneath the seating deck.
The passing of several anxious minutes saw the plane finally rolling again and no guards pointing lethal weapons at Frank’s head. Now confident his entry was unnoticed, Frank made his way through the cargo hold searching for an adequate hiding place.
Unfortunately for him, the passengers upstairs appeared to be traveling rather light. Behind walls of cargo netting all he could see were standard sized suit cases and garment bags. He did notice six coffin sized wooden crates, but dismissed them as food containers that would remain onboard the plane when it finally landed in China. A second glance at the crates allowed his eye to catch a black ink stamp on one of them. It stated in bold letters ‘Property of Columbia University.’
An angry snarl consumed Frank’s face as he shook his head, “Those thieving little bastards.”
Frank pried open the lid to one of them and confirmed his suspicion. The Chinese had indeed confiscated the professor’s research equipment and were transporting it back to China along with the people who knew how to use it.
At that moment Frank felt the plane rapidly picking up speed. He sat down on the floor and braced his back against the stack of wooden crates as the aircraft took to the sky. Once the jostling of initial takeoff maneuvers were complete, Frank went back to work.
He quickly emptied one of the crates with a ground emitter and Alex’s laptop stored inside. He took a moment to pop the casing away from the laptop and attached his listening bug to the inside and hooked the device into the computer’s central power supply. He closed it back up and proceeded to cram the computer and extra emitter inside another crate and managed to shut the lid tight again. This left Frank with a completely empty wooden box the size of a grown man to play with.
Frank fought his way through the cold and lightheaded feeling that began overtaking him as the plane rose higher into the atmosphere. Soon the unpressurized cabin would not support life anymore. He hastily lined the wooden crate with his heavy blanket and lay the oxygen tank and mask at one end. He then climbed in and pulled the lid down tightly to leave him in complete darkness.
He secured the oxygen mask over his face and turned the knob on top of the tank to start the flow of air. Instantly, Frank felt his cloudy mind clear. Next, he wrapped the blanket tightly around himself and braced for the long, lonely, and extremely cold flight.
**********
Back on the Giza Plateau Mark greeted the arrival of his boss, Terrance. The man did not travel lonely as a cluster of six midnight black town cars came to a stop among the sandy vista.
Mark was not the least bit surprised to see the NSA executive committee member step out of his car still wearing a pressed suit and tie rather than grungy clothes for field work.
“Lucky for you I was attending a conference in Rome when you called,” were the first words spoken by Terrance.
“Welcome back to the field,” Mark exclaimed and followed it up with a nauseatingly bright smile and an extended hand.
Terrance ignored the offered handshake and simply looked back at the row of black cars and tossed his head forward as if to say ‘come on already’. Dutifully, doors popped open and a cadre of hard men began stepping out.
“What do we have?” Terrance demanded of Mark.
“Six SEALs have the tunnel entrance secured while two others and I have been holding down the command area. Unfortunately, the Egyptian military showed up with a few hundred more men here and at the tunnel entrance. That should make things a little more interesting for you, but it is their country after all,” Mark responded and then leaned to the side at the waist to look behind Terrance. “Now, what do you have?”
Terrance casually turned his head from side to side evaluating his surroundings. Without addressing Mark directly he answered, “Muscle, and if the President’s scientific advisor is worth his salt, I should soon have presidential authority to take whatever action I deem necessary.”
“There is no need for that just yet,” Mark cautioned. “We have them contained for the time being so give me time with this leader of theirs.”
“Speaking of time, you should be going. My plane is set to take you directly there,” Terrance said as he walked past Mark like he didn’t even exist.
Glancing around at the unloading cars, Mark knew the doubts he harbored about leaving Terrance alone in Egypt were well-founded. He knew the man could be heavy-handed, but soon the President would hand him unlimited authority; which likely included nuclear assets relocating to the region. The situation was definitely trouble.
Chapter 30: The Last Song
When Kublai Khan arrived at the besieged fortress of Xiangyang he instantly understood how the city was able to withstand the siege for so long. The imposing fortress walls stood thirty feet high and utilized the river as a natural moat that was over a hundred yards wide.
All along the shoreline his soldiers manned no fewer than a thousand traction trebuchets. These simple siege engines consisted of a tripod frame with a long arm attached at the top with only a few feet overhanging the front, while the majority of the beam’s length extended away from the target. When ready, six men yanked on ropes hanging down from the short end to propel the long arm upward with enough velocity to fling a fifty pound stone high into the air.
Kublai Khan observed the crews launching their projectiles over and over with nearly every shot splashing along the opposite shoreline rather than striking the city walls.
“Come on, put your backs into it,” General Kang bellowed. “Do I need the whore from my bed last night to show you how to pull on something to get results?”
That crass little barb did the trick. The six pullers proved their manhood with a mighty yank that sent the missile noticeably higher than before. A few seconds later the stone slammed into the fortress wall about six feet up from ground level and blasted out a chunk the size of a man’s head. Between the time it took the trebuchet crew to reset and reload, a repair crew from the fortress was already cementing over the damaged area.
Encouraged by their successful strike, the crew launched the next projectile just as far, but scored a hit at least ten feet to the right of the first impact. A third shot fell short again as the launch crew was now tired.
“We just can’t throw them far enough, often enough, and with enough accuracy to do any real damage,” General Kang reported in frustration.
Kublai Khan regarded the man with great annoyance. “I have eyes, General. That inability to do damage is why I am here now.”
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Kang looked away from the city walls toward the new machine being assembled. “This contraption of yours will certainly throw a heavier stone, but I am not sure it will reach the target. You are building it too far back.”
Kublai Khan regarded the massive weapon with glowing pride. It stood twenty feet high and was built much like the traction trebuchets, only to a much larger scale. Other than sheer size, the key difference was a gigantic wooden bucket attached to the short end of the throwing arm rather than ropes. It was in the process of being filled to the top with rubble to serve as a counterweight for the contraption. Rather than using manpower, the device would rely on gravity to pull down the bucket and fling the projectile much farther than a group of men possibly could.
“Any closer and the fortress might be able to hit it with flaming arrows or caldrons to try and destroy it,” Kublai countered. “Come, it looks like they are about ready to fire a test shot. If this is successful, we brought enough lumber in our wagon train to build at least four more.”
The two men paced back from the shore line and climbed to the top of a thirty foot tall observation tower erected a short distance from the new counterweight trebuchet. From the top they were able to view over the walls and into the city to see people going about their daily lives as though the besieging army was not even there. That was about to change.
Kublai Khan waited for a team of ten men to load a five hundred pound boulder into the launch channel resting between the frame legs. When the crew stepped away he ordered, “Fire when ready.”
Moments later a chorus of creaks and groans from the weapon’s wood frame cried out as five thousand pounds of weight was set into motion. There was a thunderous crash when the counterweight bucket rotated to the low point of its drop. Frantic flapping of fabric in the wind soon followed as the sling flung the boulder high into the air.
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