Commander Lemester emerged from the hatch leading to the fantail and came upon this extraordinary scene — two men holding rifles on his crewmen. He stared in amazement for a few seconds, then bulled his way forward. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
The larger of the two men walked over to him. Lemester's eyes grew wider as he recognized Trapp. Not again.
Wilson had spent the last fifteen minutes digging through the master computer. Every time he felt he was coming close to an answer, he'd run into a locked file that only Meng could open. Wilson decided it was time to stop fooling around. He left his terminal and went to Meng's office. The old Chinese man was still working on the Medusa program. "Who was on the phone? What took you so long?"
Wilson didn't say a word and waited until Meng glanced up. He looked his boss in the eye. "I was just talking to Colonel Moore down at US-SOCOM. He wanted to know what was going on with Dragon Sim-13.
Apparently it didn't end the way the simulation showed. I just went through the master computer files. What's in the file locked under your personal code?"
Wilson watched in surprise as Meng slumped into his chair and put his head in his hands. "Look for yourself," he muttered. "The code word is 'Goddess.' "
It wasn't even a standoff. With millions of dollars of sophisticated weaponry on board, the Rathburne was not prepared to deal with two men holding automatic rifles on the ship's captain. There was a ten-man contingent of marines on board and, within five minutes of the helicopter landing, they had ringed the helipad. By then it was too late.
Trapp pressed the muzzle of the AK-47, taken from Hooker's personal gun collection, against Lemester's throat. He repeated the demands. "I'm going to tell you this only one more time. We want this helicopter fueled now. If you don't, or if those jarheads try anything stupid, two things are going to happen. First off, I'm going to blow your head clean off. Then my friend — who, by the way, isn't all together upstairs — is going to release the dead-man's switch he's holding. That box, if he releases pressure on the switch, can radio-detonate a twenty-pound satchel of C-4 inside the helicopter. The C-4, combined with the fuel the helicopter does have on board, will really mess up the rear end of your ship. All we want is a little fuel. It isn't worth a lot of people dying over."
Lemester stared at the small man sitting in the back of the helicopter. The man waved crazily and smiled at the naval officer. He held a small box in his right hand. Lemester didn't know what the box was but he had to assume it was a detonating device. Lemester had no idea what was going on. There was no way he'd jeopardize the safety of his ship. The man could have his fuel. There would be other ways to deal with this.
Lemester yelled to Peppers. "Send two men out here to refuel this helicopter."
Peppers briefly considered disobeying. He didn't like the idea of giving in to the demands of these terrorists. They'd obviously taken the crew of the helicopter hostage. Still, he had been trained to do as ordered. Also, he couldn't come up with a better plan. He detailed two men to bring the fuel hose forward.
Five minutes later they were done. 579 was ready to go. Long gave Trapp the thumbs-up. Trapp let out a sigh. The first part was done. Now came phase two. As Long started up the helicopter, Hooker climbed out of the back cradling a satchel in his arms. With his AK-47 slung over his back, he walked over to the coiled fuel hoses and placed the satchel down. Then he walked over to join Trapp on the edge of the helipad. The helicopter lifted off and flew into the night sky.
Trapp could tell that the ship's captain was totally bewildered. The navy people had undoubtedly assumed that he and Hooker were two terrorists holding the aircrew hostage, but now it was apparent that they were all working together. Trapp knew that the ship's captain was trying to figure out why the two of them were staying on board.
Trapp smiled at the captain. "That satchel my friend placed over your JP4 fuel tanks has the C-4 in it. He still has the detonator in his hand. We'll stay that way for a while, until the helicopter is definitely out of range of your surface-to-air missiles and beyond reach of any air force help you might call. So why don't we all sit down and get comfortable."
Lemester's shoulders slumped in defeat as Trapp motioned for him to sit down on the edge of the helipad.
Moore didn't waste any time on preambles. "What have you people done?"
On the other end, Wilson tried to explain as best he could. "Doctor Meng continued running the operation when he cut off your communications with the FOB after the briefback. Meng simulated being the SFOB and gave the authorization code words for the mission to go."
"For God's sake, why?" Moore yelled into the phone. He looked at the clock and cut into Wilson's sputterings. "I don't have time for this. I've got a helicopter inbound for China that I have to do something about." Moore hung up and started leafing through his phone book.
He didn't know Meng's motives or how he had manipulated all of them, but the conclusion was inescapable. The mission had really been accomplished, and now Hossey had talked somebody into flying back into the operational area. Things were getting out of hand. It was time for damage control.
19
"When he concentrates, prepare against him;
where he is strong, avoid him."
Riley smoothly pulled back on the trigger and the bark of the rifle echoed across the draw. A Chinese soldier, warming himself at a fire, was slammed back as the 7.62mm round tore a fatal path through his chest. Without conscious thought, Riley did as he'd been trained. He arced the muzzle of the weapon to his second target, standing at the next fire. The man had heard the first shot but didn't know what it meant. He never would, as Riley's round hit him in the center of the chest and he tumbled in a heap.
Riley fired all ten rounds in the magazine. Seven hits for ten shots. Four of them appeared fatal. He reloaded a fresh magazine and decided to wait a few minutes to allow the Chinese to react. He didn't think his muzzle flash had been spotted because there had been no return fire. He'd let the flash be seen during the next magazine. The whole purpose of the diversion was to draw out the Chinese. Hiding his location wouldn't do that.
In the Chinese lines, confusion reigned. The immediate reaction of the soldiers on guard was to put the fires out and get under cover. Those who had been sleeping were awakened and hastily joined their comrades. No one shot back because no one knew what, or where, to shoot.
The local regimental commander received fragmented reports from his battalion commanders. The 3d Battalion had two men shot, both fatally. The 2d Battalion had five shot, two fatally. The shots were apparently coming from the high ground to the north and west. The regimental commander was at a loss. He had never been trained to act on his own initiative. He relayed his report to division, with a request for orders on how to respond. Meanwhile, he belatedly ordered the battalion commanders to awaken all their men and get them under cover.