Red Dragon (Winds of War Book 3)

by William Dietz

  There was a splash as the spiky object hit the water. When the truck drew closer Tong could see that the men were chest deep in water--and subject to a fast current. They struggled to stand upright as the end of a heavy chain was passed hand-to-hand to the point where it would be connected to the anti-tank obstacle. Others could be seen, their spikes poking up out of the water, as the river boiled around them. It’s shallow here, Tong mused. So, it’s a natural place to cross.

  Tong opened his door, jumped to the ground, and was making his way toward a cluster of soldiers when one of them pointed to the north. “Yī jià fēijī! Jiǔ diǎn zhōng!” (A plane! At nine o’clock!)

  There was no attempt to alert the prisoners as the soldiers went face-down on the sand. Tong was taking the scene in when Chung threw him to the ground and a horrible roaring sound was heard. Geysers of sand flew up into the air as cannon shells raked the beach, killed two-dozen people, and destroyed a truck. Then the fighter flashed past and disappeared.

  Tong got up and began to brush sand off his uniform. “Sorry, sir,” Chung said. “That was an American A-10. It might circle around and come back.”

  “Thanks,” Tong said. “I was a bit slow to process everything. It won’t happen again.”

  Some of the PLA soldiers had been killed and some wounded. Two medics were on the scene. They hurried to help their own prior to aiding the prisoners.

  Tong went looking for the officer in charge and found him berating a sergeant. “I don’t care how many prisoners are dead! Lead the ones you have into the river and complete the job.”

  “Excuse me,” Tong said. “I’m Captain Tong, and I’m looking for the officer in charge.”

  Both soldiers came to attention. And, judging from the look of consternation on the lieutenant’s face, he’d been unaware of Tong’s arrival. “Lieutenant Ku, sir… How can I help you?”

  “I wish to speak with these men,” Tong said, as he gave the list to Ku.

  “Find these prisoners!” Ku ordered, as he handed the list over to the hapless sergeant. “And bring them here!” Ku shouted each order in spite of the fact that the noncom was only ten feet away.

  The sergeant said, “Yes, sir,” then turned and hurried off.

  “I’m sorry,” Ku said. “Sergeant Yi grew up in the country, and he’s something of a buffoon.”

  Tong felt sorry for the noncom and hurried to change the subject. “So why build defenses here? Do we expect an attack?”

  “No, sir,” Ku replied. “Not right away. That would come after we secure some major bridges. At that point the Allies might try to flank us, using fords like this one.”

  Ku’s explanation gave Tong a peek into the sort of detailed planning that generals did. And he was still thinking about that when the sergeant returned with four prisoners in tow. Three of them had wet clothing and the other man was dry. “Two of the people on the list were killed or swept away,” the sergeant said. “I crossed their names off the list.”

  “Well, it can’t be helped I guess,” Ku said as he passed the list to Tong. “Are you going to take them away?” Having lost a number of prisoners the lieutenant wanted to keep as many men as he could.

  “Maybe,” Tong said, conscious of the fact that the people in question could hear him. “I’ll let you know.”

  Sergeant Shi and his men took charge of the prisoners. Though uncertain about his duties as an army officer, Tong had been trained to interrogate prisoners, and took Shi aside.

  “We’ll work together,” Tong told him. “The real targets are the men named Adesh Gowda and Jaipal Kapoor. They’re smugglers, and one or both of them may be acquainted with Nola Bakshi.

  “I will speak with the others first, threaten to let you beat the crap out of them, and call you in. That will be your cue to beat the crap out of them.”

  “You can count on me, sir,” Shi said with a grin.

  “Good. By the time we get to the smugglers they’ll be ready to talk. We might run into a language problem though.”

  “Private Doo speaks some Hindi, sir.”

  “Good. We’ll call on Doo if we need to. Okay, set the scene. Let’s see what we can learn.”

  The interrogations took place about twenty feet from the truck. The furniture consisted of two upended ammo crates, one for Shi, and one for the prisoner who was being interrogated. The first man had been arrested for stealing a neighbor’s bicycle.

  So, when the PLA noncom accused him of selling heroin, he denied it, and kept denying it even as Sergeant Shi slapped him around. And when he fell Shi kicked him.

  “That’s enough,” Tong said, as he stepped in. “The obvious solution is to shoot him. Take him over there,” Tong said, while pointing at some driftwood. “Bring the next one in.”

  The next man was already trembling and begging for mercy as Tong ordered him to sit. “Give me the names of the people who were with you when you planted the IED,” Shi demanded.

  “I no do it,” the man said in broken English. “Please no kill… I have family.”

  “You should have thought about that before you became a terrorist,” Shi said coldly. The prisoner tried to duck but fell as the noncom’s rifle butt glanced off the side of his head.

  “He wants to die,” Tong said, “and we will accommodate him. Put him with the other man and bring prisoner Kapoor over here.”

  Kapoor had black hair, brown skin, and spindly limbs. His dark eyes darted from soldier to soldier. “Please! I know nothing about bombs.”

  “Why did you kill Nola Bakshi?” Tong demanded.

  “I didn’t!” Kapoor protested. “She was alive when I left her on the east bank.”

  Tong felt a surge of satisfaction. “What about your friend Gowda? Maybe he killed her.”

  Kapoor was desperate. “Yes, Gowda did it!”

  That was enough to elicit a howl of protest from Gowda. “I didn’t kill anyone,” he insisted. “May Yama, the Lord of Naraka [hell], take me if I’m lying.”

  Tong felt sure that Kapoor was the man he wanted. And, secure in the knowledge that he could access Gowda again should the need arise, he nodded. “That’s good enough for me. Kapoor will remain here. Take the rest of the prisoners back to Lieutenant Ku.”

  One of the prisoners who’d been sentenced to death fell to his knees and babbled something in Hindi while the other began to sob. “Thank God,” he said, and crossed himself. Commandos marched the men away.

  That left Kapoor all alone. Judging from his expression he was terrified. Tong smiled. “So, Mr. Kapoor… Cooperate and I will free you. Fail and I will kill you. Which would you prefer?”

  East bank of the West Rapti River, Nepal

  It was dark and the river murmured softly as it slid past their hiding place. Two days had passed since Jaipal Kapoor had decided to cooperate. And now, based on the information the smuggler had provided him, Tong was waiting for Nola Bakshi to enter his trap. “There!” Kapoor said. “Do you see the lights? That’s the truck I told you about.”

  “I see them,” Tong replied, as he swiveled the night vision binoculars to the left. The lights were amber colored parking lights. And, as the vehicle drew closer, Tong saw that it was Chinese made SX2190 6X6 heavy duty truck. A box-shaped enclosure was mounted behind the cab, and that was consistent with what he’d been told to expect.

  The truck came to a stop fifty-feet short of the river and sat with its motor running. “Now,” Tong said into his handheld radio. Sergeant Shi and his commandos looked green as they converged on the cab where, in keeping with the orders Tong had given, they were to take the driver and his assistant into custody.

  Would the smugglers put up a fight? It was Tong’s hope that they wouldn’t. Gunshots might be heard on the other side of the river, and the soldiers would make excellent witnesses if Major Wang was interested in such niceties.

  The cab light came on as the soldiers dropped to the ground with their hands in the air. Good. So far so good. The light went out again. Shi’s voice was loud
and clear over the radio. “We have them. They report to a captain who reports to Colonel Hu. Over.”

  “Excellent,” Tong said. “Secure the prisoners. We can’t afford to put more than one guard on them. Over.”

  “Understood. Over.”

  “Look!” Kapoor said. “On the other side of the river.”

  Tong turned. The hand torch was clear to see. A long followed by two shorts. Kapoor replied with three blips. “They will come now,” the smuggler predicted.

  “I want you to hide,” Tong said. “Sergeant Shi will meet her at the river.”

  Kapoor faded into the darkness as Tong thumbed the transmit button. “They’re coming. You know what to do. I’ll be waiting at the truck. Over.” Tong heard two clicks by way of a reply.

  It seemed unlikely that Bakshi’s smuggler had night vision gear, but it wasn’t impossible. So, Tong was careful to circle around a thicket of trees before approaching the truck from the rear. Tong pulled the back door open to reveal a soft glow. The interior was equipped with a ceiling mounted mirror, a silk covered couch, and a compact bar. Any remaining doubts were immediately put to rest. Colonel Hu was stealing from the People’s Republic of China. A definite no-no.

  Based on appearances, a well-tested routine was in place. Hu sent the specially equipped truck to the river, Bakshi got in, and was taken to a place where they would meet. Within Hu’s compound? No, that seemed unlikely. But somewhere nearby so the colonel wouldn’t be inconvenienced.

  There was only one place to hide, and that was inside a tiny airplane-style restroom, located in the front of the passenger compartment directly opposite the miniscule bar. So that’s where Tong was when he felt the truck move slightly. He gave Bakshi a moment to get settled and opened the door.

  Bakshi was seated on the couch. When she turned Tong saw that she had dark hair, large eyes, and an oval face. Her lips were full and turned up at the corners. “My, my, what have we here? A PLA captain hiding in the loo.”

  Judging from Bakshi’s English accent she’d been educated abroad. And in spite of Tong’s sudden appearance, her composure was intact. “It’s unusual,” Tong replied. “That’s true. But so is the presence of an Indian national in Chinese occupied Nepal. A woman who runs a smuggling operation and provides sex to a PLA colonel. But for what? Stolen supplies? Information? Or both?”

  Tong saw Bakshi’s eyes narrow. Her legs had been crossed. Now both feet were on the floor. She’s getting ready to attack, Tong thought, but the speed of Bakshi’s response took him by surprise. One moment she was sitting, then she was standing, and holding a knife with a needle-like blade.

  Tong was wearing a PLA issue pistol on his hip. But the butt was covered with a protective flap. And Bakshi would sink the knife blade into Tong’s flesh long before he could draw. You were overconfident, Tong thought, because she’s a woman.

  The needle-like blade was in Bakshi’s right hand and she was surprisingly tall. Tong caught Bakshi’s wrist with his left hand while launching a blow with his right. It struck Bakshi’s throat, no, her Adam’s apple. Except that women don’t have Adam’s apples!

  Bakshi reeled backwards and slammed into the door. Tong was fumbling for the pistol when Bakshi rushed him. The blade was low. Tong managed to intercept Bakshi’s wrist for a second time, jerk her in, and knee his opponent’s crotch. The strike was on target--but had no effect!

  She’s transsexual, Tong realized, as Bakshi laughed. “That’s right, Captain… I’m a she! Now come to momma.”

  Tong managed to draw the pistol, and was bringing the weapon to bear, when the knife flew through the air. It flipped end-for-end and struck the center of Tong’s forehead, hilt first.

  The blow caused the agent to stagger, and Bakshi charged. Her weight was equal to Tong’s and she hit him hard.

  Tong went down, Bakshi landed on top of him, and the pistol flew loose. Long nails raked Tong’s face. My eyes, he thought, she’s going for my eyes.

  The MSS agent answered with a desperate head butt. Bakshi fell sideways. Tong rolled sideways, managed to straddle his opponent, and grabbed double handfuls of her hair.

  Then with an urgency driven by desperation Tong banged Bakshi’s head against the floor. And he continued to do so until a hand fell on his shoulder. “You can stop now,” Sergeant Shi said. “She’s dead.”

  Tong let go. There was a thud as the back of Bakshi’s head landed on a bloodied floor. Tong struggled to his feet. There was a bump on his forehead, his face was scratched, and his jaw hurt. The agent swayed slightly as he looked down at the motionless body.

  I blew it, Tong thought. We had plenty of evidence regarding Hu and the stolen supplies. But was Bakshi a spy? I don’t know. Not for sure. I can lie though… And I will. Madam Zang wouldn’t buy it, but Major Wang will.

  “Get the driver,” Tong said thickly. “Put him in the passenger seat. Have him navigate while you drive. The rest of us will follow at a distance. Once we arrive let Hu enter the back. Understood?”

  “What about the driver’s assistant?”

  “Take his ID and turn him loose. We can find him if we need to.”

  They departed ten minutes later. Tong was seated next to Chung and could see the box truck’s red taillights. They looked like evil eyes and seemed to blink when the lead vehicle took a curve. The ensuing trip took the better part of an hour, and no wonder, since it would be madness to put a supply depot near the front.

  But, when the supply truck started to slow, it was in a small village rather than at the nearby base. And that was consistent with Tong’s expectations. Hu wasn’t about to bring Bakshi on base. But he didn’t want to endure a long trip either. So, according to the data extracted from the Ural-4320’s GPS system, the trysts took place a scant three miles from Hu’s headquarters. “Kill the lights,” Tong ordered. “And pull over. I want to be present when a colonel named Hu arrives on the scene.”

  If Chung was curious Tong saw no sign of it on the man’s face. “Yes, sir.”

  But, as things turned out, Hu was already there. He was seated in the back of a white Mitsubishi Parejo SUV with the interior roof light on.

  Tong dashed from shadow-to-shadow, as the light went off, and a man got out of the SUV. He was carrying a bottle as he made his way over to the box truck, put a boot on the raised step, and opened the door. A rectangle of light appeared and vanished.

  Shi and two of his men were taking possession of the SUV as Tong arrived with pistol drawn. After stepping onto the bumper, he opened the door.

  Bakshi was where he’d left her, stretched out on the couch, with arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes were closed and her hair was fanned out beneath her head.

  Hu was kneeling beside her sobbing. And that was when Tong realized something that hadn’t occurred to him. The relationship had been about more than sex. For Hu anyway, who turned to look. “You? You did this?”

  “Yes,” Tong replied. “I did.”

  “You’re going to kill me?”

  “Yes,” Tong admitted. “I am.”

  “Good,” Hu said as he turned his back. “I want to be with her.”

  There were two shots. Both seemed extremely loud in the confined space. Smoke eddied as Shi entered. Tong turned to face him. “Our mission is complete. Do we have white phosphorous grenades?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Have the men throw four of them in here.”

  “Sir.”

  Tong was standing a safe distance away when the grenades detonated, the truck exploded, and shrapnel flew through the air. “Colonel Huang Hu was killed while serving the People’s Republic of China in southeast Asia.” That’s how the official announcement would read. And that, Tong decided, was true.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Near Kulekhani, Nepal

  With the single exception of Doctor Kwan, the team rose early, and started to pack. Lee felt tired and found it difficult to breathe. Both of which were common at altitudes above 8,000 feet. But there was nothing he or an
yone else could do except endure.

  Kwan was only half ready when the rest of the party hit the trail. So, she didn’t have time to eat anything more than an energy bar. Her complaints fell on deaf ears. “You must get up earlier,” Thapa counseled Kwan, as if speaking to a child. “Then you will have time.”

  Lee couldn’t help but grin.

  The village of Kulekhani was about three miles away which meant they could reach it in an hour on flat ground. But they were walking uphill and carrying packs. So Lee figured it would take sixty minutes to travel two miles. That was the point where Cato and Shekhawat would join them. Any closer and the PLA mountain troops would spot the group and take a closer look.

  The scouts would lead the column off-trail to the ruins of an old fort which the party would utilize as a base. In the meantime, Lee’s task was to put one boot in front of the other, try to suck enough oxygen, and maintain situational awareness.

  Finally, after what seemed like two hours rather than one, the group rounded a curve to find the scouts waiting for them. After a brief celebration, Shekhawat led them up a switch-backing trail so narrow that even the sure-footed mountain ponies had difficulty traversing it.

  Back-and-forth the ancient track went as it passed between wind-twisted shrubs, ancient retaining walls, and a cairn made out of dry-fitted stones, before finally arriving at the ruins. “The fort was constructed hundreds of years ago by a warlord who taxed each tea caravan that passed below,” Cato explained. “It was rebuilt more than once. Corporal Shekhawat says the original structure was three-stories tall and large enough to hold a hundred men. But most of it collapsed during the big earthquake.”

  “Okay,” Lee said, as he sought to catch his breath. “But I was hoping for some cover. If we stay here, we’ll be easy meat for the first helicopter that happens along.”

  Cato smiled. “No worries, sir. The situation is a lot better than it appears.”