"Let's set down at the receiver station," Carter said.
Tieggs glanced at him. Sweat was pouring from his brow. He nodded.
"We'll have the medics give you something to keep you going. I'll need my clothes and some more ammunition."
They hit an air pocket, and Tieggs nearly lost it but recovered nicely. He grinned weakly. "What I think I need is a couple of pints of O positive. Might make a difference."
Carter was about to ask Tieggs if he wanted him to take over the controls when the pilot stiffened and nodded toward the north. Carter looked out the Plexiglas.
There were at least a hundred outriggers of various sizes, each filled with natives, heading north through the large waves.
Tieggs swooped a little lower so that they came right over the center of the flotilla. The men in the boats looked up. Some of them shook their fists, others waved their machetes menacingly skyward. A few even shot arrows up at them.
Then they passed them and were climbing again.
"They're on their way to attack the base!" Tieggs said.
"Let's go back," Carter said, looking out over the water.
"What?"
"Let's go back over them. Low. Right on top of them. Let's see if we can discourage a few of them."
"Have you seen the size of the waves they're paddling through, for Christ's sake?"
"I've seen them," Carter said. He opened the door, and the wind took it back with a bang. The cabin was filled with wind.
Tieggs swooped around and slowed down to cut some of the wind in the cabin. Carter had pulled out the M-16.
"Get right down on top of them," Carter said. "If we can stop the attack here and now, we just might save a lot of lives… our people as well as theirs."
They came down barely above wave height and hovered, the open door on Carter's side facing toward the oncoming canoes.
Carter took careful aim at the lead canoe and squeezed off a short burst that kicked up water over the bow.
Tieggs pulled back up, then came down again just ahead of the canoes, and Carter fired off a few more short bursts.
The natives were all shouting and screaming now. Some of them were shooting arrows, and a couple even threw spears. But they had stopped moving and were simply riding up and down with the waves, some of the paddlers merely holding their bows into the wind.
"They'll wait until we're gone and then continue," Tieggs shouted. "Unless you kill them all."
Carter looked back at him. Tieggs was right. He nodded. "Let's get back to the receiver station. At least we can warn them." He managed to pull the door closed while they were stationary, and then Tieggs brought them around and back up to cruising altitude.
Before they had gone very far, Carter looked back over his shoulder at the outriggers. The natives were once again bent to the task of getting to Hiva Faui.
Even without the constant goading that the Chinese projection system gave to the natives, they would continue to attack the receiver station for a long time to come unless someone was brought in to work with them. It would have to be done very soon. Possibly even using the same visual propaganda techniques that the Chinese used to incite them to their attacks in the first place.
Smoke rose high into the sky in ragged plumes from the far end of Hiva Faui. It was somewhere in or around the town, Carter guessed. It was anyone's guess what was happening there with the Chinese now that the base had been destroyed and the governor apparently fled.
There were armed technicians at the main gate and at various spots around the perimeter fence of the receiver station, and when the helicopter set down on the grass in front of the administration building, the station manager, Justin Owen, came running.
Before the rotors had completely stopped, Carter jumped out and hurried around to Tieggs's side.
Owen had reached them. "What the hell happened over there?" he shouted.
"Get a medic. Bob has been hurt," Carter said, popping the door open.
Other people were coming up to the helicopter, and Owen called for one of them to get the doctor. Then he helped Carter lift Tieggs out of the machine. They laid him on the grass. He was in a lot of pain again, and the wound at his leg was leaking through the bandages.
"Is there anyone else on this base who can fly a helicopter?" Carter asked.
Owen shook his head. "We've called for our support aircraft, but it'll be a day or so before it gets here. They're going crazy in the city. Ever since the big explosion on Natu Faui."
"The natives are on their way here right now," Carter said. "They're a couple of hours out. Maybe a little farther, but they'll be here."
"Damn," Owen swore.
The base doctor came from the administration building at a dead run. Two technicians carrying a stretcher were right behind him.
Carter turned back to Tieggs. "They'll fix you up, Bob. As soon as possible, I want you to refuel the chopper and get it over to the governor's mansion."
"I'll get there," Tieggs said thickly.
"He's going nowhere," the doctor said, taking Tieggs's wrist.
"He'll have to, Doctor," Carter said, getting up. "Unless you can come up with another helicopter pilot."
"And if it kills him?" the doctor snapped, looking up.
Carter shook his head. "No," he said. "Just do the best you can. It's important."
"What's going on?" Owen said. "Can you tell me that much?"
"No time now," Carter said. "But I'll need a jeep." He headed across to the administration building where his bags were.
"It'll be out front in five minutes," Owen called after him.
Upstairs, Carter peeled off his shorts and climbed into a cool shower, letting the water cascade down his body, the spray sharp and wonderful.
With or without Tieggs and the helicopter, Carter figured he had probably lost the governor. The man could be hundreds of miles away by now. Very possibly on his way to China or to any of a thousand places where he would be safe.
It was just possible, however, that there would be some indication left behind at the mansion telling where they had gone. Or there might even be someone left behind — staff or one of his goons — who might be persuaded to tell where the governor had gone.
He stepped out of the shower just as a technician came into his room with a cold beer and a sandwich.
"Mr. Owen thought you might be hungry, sir," the man said.
"Thanks," Carter said, and the technician left.
Carter quickly got dressed, then rapidly took apart his Luger, oiled the parts, and reassembled it. He loaded the clip and put another in his pocket. He wiped Hugo's blade with oil and strapped another gas bomb to his thigh.
He grabbed the sandwich and beer on the way out the door.
Downstairs he stopped at Owen's office. The station manager was busy giving orders for the defense of the station. This would be the first native attack the technicians would be ready for.
"I'm going into town to find the governor," Carter said.
Owen looked up from the phone. "Can you tell me what happened over on Natu Faui? We heard the explosion."
"There was a Communist Chinese base over there. We destroyed it."
Owen looked at Carter, dumbfounded. But then he slowly nodded his head. "And the governor? He's working for the Chinese?"
"Something like that."
Again Owen nodded. "I'll send Bob along with the helicopter if and when the doc clears him."
"Appreciate it," Carter said, and he turned and hurried outside, tossing the half-full beer bottle into a trash can.
A jeep with keys in it was parked just outside. Carter jumped in and headed down to the main gate. Before he came to a complete halt, the technicians opened the gate for him. He waved and sped up, then he was down the hill and around the curve.
He drove as fast as he could, mindful of the fact that the Chinese had booby-trapped this road with downed trees on blind curves more than once in the past forty-eight hours.