Invasion: China (Invasion America) (Volume 5)

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Invasion: China (Invasion America) (Volume 5) Page 34

by Vaughn Heppner


  The Marines’ ticket home would be to reach the American front lines in Manchuria. They’d have to fly there. The lifters would plummet from orbit in special pods, landing near the dropped Marines. The machines had a five hundred mile range, depending how high they tried to go.

  “Let’s do this,” Paul said.

  “Sergeant Kavanagh—” the monitor said.

  “Lower the volume of the monitor communication,” Paul told his suit’s computer. Like an obedient servant, it did so. Paul could still hear the man if he concentrated, but it let him ignore the increasingly strident message.

  “Do you know how to fly this gizmo?” Romo asked.

  “Just done it on the simulator, but how hard can it be?”

  Romo grabbed a guardrail with two articulated, strength-augmented gauntlets.

  Thirty seconds of trial and error brought the fans online. The lifter vibrated and lurched off the ground, rising into the air. Their helmets muffled the torturous shriek. That was one of the backdrops to the lifters. They were loud.

  Paul took them one hundred feet high. If the thing crashed, they should still be okay from this height. The battlesuits had shock absorbers in the boots and legs, as well as strength amplification. With the armor, they could make thirty-foot leaps like metallic kangaroos with attitude.

  “The monitor sounds angry,” Romo said.

  “Yeah, well, the general should have let me talk to my wife. I asked enough times. Now I’m done making requests.”

  “We may have miscalculated their reaction.”

  “We’ll see,” Paul said. “Now how about you pipe down so I can concentrate on what I’m doing?”

  For the next ten minutes, Paul and Romo zoomed across the Montana countryside. They flashed over the pine forest, heading toward a small town to the west.

  “Sergeant Kavanagh, this is General Allenby speaking.”

  “Do you hear that?” Romo asked Paul.

  “Raise the monitor volume to regular,” Paul told his suit.

  “Kavanagh—”

  “I hear you, General,” Paul said.

  “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “The town down the road will have a phone connection. I plan to use it to talk to my wife.”

  “Is this a joke?” Allenby asked.

  “No, sir, I’m quite serious.”

  “You’ll be drummed out of the Marines for this stunt.”

  “Really?” asked Paul. “You’ve gone to all this hassle to train me, train my suit and now you’ll ground me just before the action?”

  “Are you mentally unbalanced?”

  “You wanted determined soldiers with balls,” Paul said. “So why are you surprised when you get exactly what you want? How many times have I asked to speak to my wife? I’m determined, sir, and I’ve always had more balls than you can imagine.”

  “This is a top secret training center. Our country’s dream of victory rests on you men.”

  “What difference does any of that make to my speaking with my wife?”

  “Now you listen to me—”

  “Sir, come on,” Paul said. “You said you’ve read my record, you know my profile. You’re supposed to understand how I tick. I’m finished talking. You can see that. At this point, I’m doing.”

  “F-22s are on their way. I’m going to order them to shoot you two down and possibly kill you.”

  Paul and Romo exchanged glances. A second later, Romo’s faceplate opened. His face showed worry.

  “Just a minute, General,” Paul said. He ordered his faceplate open too. The wind howled around them, and a cold chill whipped through the opening and down his chest. It felt good.

  “I think he’s serious, amigo. We may have stepped too far over the line this time.”

  Paul’s eyes narrowed. The general wanted to bluff, did he? The brass hat thought he had balls ordering others into the fray. Maybe Paul had been out of combat too long. Maybe he needed the adrenaline rush of something like this.

  “What are you,” he asked Romo, “a soldier or a warrior?”

  “I am an assassin. I calculate the odds and know when to fold my hand.”

  “Don’t you want to feel a woman under you again?”

  Romo’s gorilla suit shrugged. “I can wait, my friend. The urge does not dominate me. I prefer to live.”

  Paul’s nostrils flared. “Well, I want to see my wife’s face tonight. I have to hear her voice.”

  Romo studied him, and finally nodded. The gesture had a resigned quality to it. “Why are we talking to the general then?”

  Paul grinned. “Now you’re catching on. The general is going to bargain with me, and he’ll bargain with you too. Now tell me, blood brother. What is it you want?”

  Romo’s dark eyes shined. “Yes, I understand. A woman—a top class hooker—with huge tits and long dark hair. That is what I want.”

  “Right.” Paul let the faceplate seal him back up, and he told his comm-computer to raise the signal. “General,” he said.

  “You haven’t turned around yet, Kavanagh.”

  “No, sir,” Paul said. “I have not.”

  “You probably realize it’s too late to save your career,” Allenby said.

  “Yes I do.”

  “Sergeant Kavanagh! You turn that thing around right now.”

  “General, do you miss your wife?”

  “No! What? What kind of question is that?”

  “I miss mine, sir. She’s a good woman, and the war has been hard on her. The truth is that I’ve been hard on her most of our life. As you probably realize, I’m not the easiest person in the world to live with.”

  “Is there a point to this?”

  “Yeah. I want to comfort my wife. I want to let her know I’ll be home soon.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that. Not after this stupid stunt.”

  “You just told me that you don’t miss your own wife, sir, your life-partner. That’s a shame. It means you can’t understand what makes a soldier like me tick. I’m fighting to defend what I love. But if I can’t even talk to my love now and again, well, sir, screw you, screw the Marines and my so-called country.”

  “I’m going to enjoy watching those jets take you down, Sergeant.”

  “Yes, sir, I bet you would.”

  “Kavanagh, this is my last—oh, screw it then, you stubborn son of a bitch. You want to talk to your wife?”

  “Once a month, sir,” Paul said.

  “All right. You have it. Now return the lifter to base.”

  “There’s one more thing, sir.”

  “Are you going to dare to ask me if I’m a man of my word?”

  “No, sir, I already know you are.”

  “What is it then?”

  “Sergeant Romo wants a high-class hooker with huge tits and long black hair.”

  “He needs this because of love?”

  “No sir, he wants a lay.” Paul glanced at Romo hanging onto the guardrail. “He wants to feel like a man one more time, and I think he wants to remember.”

  Romo’s helmet came up sharply. Paul would see stars reflected off the visor.

  “Remember what?” the general asked.

  “He’s wants to remember, sir, and I think you should let him. I imagine you’re going to call on us to do something that’s going to kill us. Let your best soldiers remember for one night, at least.”

  “Yes, agreed,” Allenby said in a tired voice.

  “We’re turning around now, sir,” Paul said.

  “I’d like to let those F-22s take you down—aw, forget it. Just get your butts back to base. And don’t ever try something like this again.”

  “We won’t, sir,” Paul said. With each forefinger gauntlet, he began to tap the flight panel.

  High above the lonely Montana pine forest, a strange shrieking lifter with two Marines made a looping turn, heading back toward the training center.

  BEIJING, CHINA

  Five days after what should have been her fatal
decision along G1, Shun Li stood outside on Yin Avenue. Two Lion Guardsmen flanked her. It amazed Shun Li she’d left her confinement cell under Zhu Square: East Lighting’s infamous Beijing headquarters.

  Shun Li wore her uniform and gun belt, though minus any sidearm. For three days she’d heard nothing from anyone as the secret police kept her in isolation. At any moment she had expected the cell door to open as she received a hideous and painful death like Colonel Lu in Australia.

  Karma works, Shun Li thought, as she stood on the sidewalk. I’m alive because the Militia major holds my soul and still lives.

  The sun moved from behind a cloud, warming her face. Looking around, Shun Li realized there should be more people on the streets. This part of Beijing looked deserted. She thought about asking the guards about that, but was intimidated by their bearing and silence. They didn’t even talk to each other. Hmmm, why had Lion Guardsmen escorted her out of Zhu Square instead of East Lightning officers? It was a mystery.

  She heard the rumble of large vehicles before she saw them. Then, three tri-turreted tanks appeared up the street. Behind followed infantry fighting vehicles. Behind those came several large Xiang SUVs.

  The giant tanks and the infantry carriers passed her before coming to a stop. A black Xiang pulled up to the curb and stopped with a smooth application of its brakes. A back door opened.

  “Enter,” Chairman Hong said from inside. He wore a black suit and held a cell phone.

  More stunned than ever, Shun Li left the two Lion Guardsmen on the sidewalk and slid into the back seat beside Hong.

  Two different Lion Guardsmen sat up front with the driver. One of the two was her old lover Tang. He was big and thick, with stern features, yet he had touched her softly during their lovemaking. Tang had proven to be an odd combination of ruthless brutality, intense sexuality and tenderness.

  One of the Lion Guardsmen on the sidewalk closed the car door. Then the tri-turreted tanks, the IFVs and the SUVs started up, heading toward Mao Square in the distance. She could see all the pennants and flags waving there.

  “Does this surprise you?” Hong asked.

  She dared to glance at him. He didn’t glare, glower or snort death. Instead, a smile threatened to emerge. It made no sense.

  “I’m uncertain what to say, Leader,” she told him.

  “Tell me the truth as you always do, Police Minister.”

  “Leader?” she asked. Had he just elevated her back to her old post or had the title been a slip of the tongue?

  From the front seat, Tang glanced at her, and her old lover winked before facing forward again.

  The gesture startled Shun Li, although she had long ago schooled herself and did not reveal her amazement. Normally, Lion Guardsmen acted like automatons. Why the change here—had the Chairman told Tang to do that? Hong loved playing such games.

  “Much has happened during the past three days,” the Chairman said cryptically. “Before we proceed, though, I want you to tell me why you failed to deliver the warheads to Harbin.”

  Shun Li kept her features bland as she thought furiously. There were several mysteries here. Usually, the Chairman moved in secret from place to place. He never let Army people with tanks and guns get this close to him. Yet they led the way. Why?

  “Have the Russians and Germans finally crossed the Gobi Desert and fought through the Khingan Range?” Shun Li asked.

  “You are evading my question,” he said.

  She’d expected to hear grim displeasure in his voice. Instead, he seemed relaxed. This made no sense.

  “Before I answer your question, Leader, may I ask one of my own first?”

  “You already did,” he said, scowling finally. “Why did you fail me in Harbin? I must know.”

  Why had Tang just winked at her? What had the Lion Guardsman tried to tell her? Had Hong noticed the gesture? Of course, he had. Yet he’d said nothing about it. That was strange.

  “Leader, I have a…a…”

  “A hunch?” he asked.

  She had been about to say, “A confession to make.” That he’d spoken like this changed her mind. Karma demanded truth in order to receive truth. Right now, however, she wanted to survive. So she lied, saying, “Yes. I had a hunch. An intuition.”

  “Can you describe it to me?”

  The burning intensity in his eyes frightened her. She strove for calm, wondering what to say. Perhaps the best thing would be a close approximation of the truth. That way she could walk both paths.

  “I suppose I felt that if I planted the warheads, I…ah, personally would be murdering China.”

  Those wet eyes seemed to pierce her soul. The Chairman had an uncanny ability to detect lies. Using her inner reserves, Shun Li met his gaze. As much as she yearned to look down, she did not.

  In a moment, Hong barked laughter. “Amazing, this is truly amazing.”

  The staring contest had drained her. Before she could stop herself, Shun Li asked, “You’re not angry with me?”

  The laughter quit abruptly. “I should be. For a day, at least, I contemplated your torturous death. Men would have recorded it for me. I would have watched it many times in slow motion in order to see each of your expressions of agony. Before I could give the order, repentant Army generals came to me, and they confessed a dreadful thing. Several of their brother officers had plotted my death. Can you imagine that? They said I destroyed China through my so-called murderous policies. They said I would go to any length to keep power, even if that meant destroying the Chinese people. The traitorous generals actually attempted to foretell the future. They said I would destroy Harbin with nuclear weapons. The good, confessing generals did not say so, but I believe they would have helped the traitors if your bombs had obliterated the city. Instead, no one planted any warheads because you turned back. Therefore, the Army conspiracy withered away.”

  Shun Li sat in shocked silence, feeling as if she could sense every hair follicle on her scalp. Had her actions saved the Chairman’s life?

  Chuckling nastily, Hong said, “The good Army generals waited several days, and they saw Harbin survive the American rape. Then they came to me and pledged their service. They told me that now they implicitly trusted me to save China to the best of my ability. And they told me about the traitors. Because of their pleading, and the darkness of the hour, I agreed to spare those treacherous monsters. I will let them die for China as they kill Russians or face the German Kaisers.”

  “I see…” Shun Li whispered. Hong had spared traitors? Obviously, he told her his version of the story. In some manner, the Army had gained power, enough to bargain with Hong. The loss of Harbin must have been the final grain to many, or as Americans said, the final straw.

  “Naturally,” Hong said, “for such gross inefficacy, I had the former fool of a Police Minister garroted to death. His face turned purple before he expired.” The Chairman chuckled. “I particularly enjoyed watching his heels drum against the floor. He struggled mightily, but to no avail. Can you imagine a Police Minister failing to uncover such a conspiracy?”

  Hong returned from his memories, glancing at her. “The former Police Minister had spoken ill about you for many months now. In fact, he poisoned me against you, Shun Li. Yet now I see that you always had my safety in mind. Even after I’d given you an order that might have seen my death—giving the traitors a supposed cause to unseat me—you worked on my behalf. When you say you felt China would die if you planted the warheads, you’re really saying that I would have died—since I am the living embodiment of China.”

  “You speak the truth,” Shun Li said in a winded voice. Listening to this, she found it difficult to breathe. Slow and easy, take a deep breath, hold it and exhale deliberately.

  “Yes, you are the Police Minister once more,” Hong said. “You will stay beside me as I speak to the generals. I want your assessment of these men. I had to replace my former Army Minister, accepting Marshal Kiang in his place. He has pledged loyalty to me…but we shall see.”

/>   Hong’s mouth twisted with distaste before he smoothed that away with his right hand. He spoke more evenly now. “The Americans dashed into Harbin, and they helped the struggling Russians father northwest of them. Other Russians with the Germans still grind though the Gobi. The air battles have turned in their favor due to a shifting balance of tac-lasers. The enemy has more and we have less. In any case, we’ve taken the brunt of their first attack—”

  The Chairman waved aside his own words, and he crossed his arms, falling silent, seeming to brood.

  Seeing that he was done talking for the moment, Shun Li sat back. While forcing her muscles to relax, she attempted to decipher his information. Had there been a coup attempt then? Clearly, the Army had clipped the Chairman’s wings in some fashion, or maybe they’d simply reasserted their authority concerning battlefield decisions. She decided that she’d have to wait and see what happened during the meeting.

  They spent the rest of the trip in silence. Security seemed as tight as ever as they entered Mao Square with its mighty block buildings. Lion Guardsmen lined the corridors inside and East Lighting personnel stood in number at each crossway.

  Instead of going up to the second floor of the Cho En Li Building, they went down into the basement. Something had occurred during her three days of isolation. Had the enemy made calculated attacks deeper into China or on Beijing itself? The strategic ABM stations—both laser and the new particle beam—should have made that impossible. At one time, the Chinese people boasted how nothing evil could touch the homeland. The former national protection behind their ocean moats had ended forever. Now, the Americans were in China to enact revenge for the US invasion.

  Soon enough, she and Chairman Hong entered a large chamber filled with marshals and generals, the entire High Command in one place. Giant screens hung on the walls, showing maps and battlefields.

  Hong took his place at the head of a vast table. Before she could follow him, Tang grabbed her arm and pulled her near a wall.

 

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