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"Let's go!" Riley led the way as they scrambled to the north, keeping the outcropping between them and the Chinese for as long as they could. After a hundred meters they had to climb up and were exposed to the enemy. If the Chinese had had any night-vision gear, Riley and Chong would have been spotted immediately as they clambered up the inclined rock wall. As it was, they were invisible in the dark, even as the skirmish line moved forward and swept over the position they had occupied.

Mitchell heard the brief burst of fire from Riley and Chong's position as he approached the area where he estimated the Chinese picket line had been. The shortness of the burst of fire told Mitchell that those were probably the last rounds Riley and Chong would fire in the diversion. The two were probably running by now. Still, they had held their position for almost an hour — far longer than expected. The Chinese response had been slow and uncoordinated.

The remaining members of Team 3 stepped forward slowly and cautiously, moving through the trees lining the riverbank. Mitchell was sweeping from left to right and back with the night-vision goggles. Off to his left he could barely discern a truck about seventy meters to the north. Between the truck and the stream he could see nothing else. They passed the remains of one of the picket-line fires.

They shuffled along slowly, the lead three struggling with the stretcher, C.J. following with his one good hand holding onto the back of Comsky's vest and Olinski's shotgun slung over his back. Mitchell was beginning to feel optimistic about their chances of making it through, when a voice close to his left front called out in Chinese.

20

"Invincibility depends on one's self;

the enemy's vulnerability on him."

Sun Tzu: The Art of War
Changbai Mountains, China Saturday, 10 June, 1730 Zulu Sunday, 11 June, 1:30 a.m. Local

Mitchell froze at the sound of the Chinese soldier's voice. He looked to his left front and through his goggles could clearly see a soldier step out of the dark shadows of the trees. Mitchell wasn't sure how well the soldier could see them. With a type 56 automatic rifle the man gestured for them to stop, then called out. Mitchell debated whether to drop the stretcher and fire his MP5 as the soldier came closer. He decided against it. He didn't think he could fire faster than the Chinese soldier. Mitchell hoped C.J. didn't use the shotgun or else they'd have the whole world down on them in a few seconds.

Mitchell could tell that the soldier was confused, but he could also see that the man had his finger on the trigger. The Chinese soldier came up next to Mitchell and peered at him strangely. Mitchell knew that with his goggles on he was an unusual sight. Mitchell waited. The second the soldier turned his attention elsewhere, he would fire. He figured he had a fifty-fifty chance of killing the man before he got off a shot.

Mitchell was thinking through this plan when the sound of three quick puffs startled him. The Chinese soldier collapsed. Mitchell turned to see Olinski propped up on one elbow on the stretcher, holding his silenced High Standard .22.

The team leader quickly broke out of his frozen stance. "Comsky and Dan. Let's put down the stretcher and throw the body in those bushes."

When they were done, Mitchell quickly gestured for the rest of the team to follow, and they moved out. He led them another three hundred meters past the skirmish line and then halted the small party. They crouched down in the dark. Mitchell knelt next to Olinski and whispered, "Good shooting."

"Thanks, sir."

Mitchell wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. That had been close. Too close. If it weren't for all the confusion and thinning of lines caused by the diversion, they'd never have gotten away with it. He wondered how long they would have before the body was discovered.

He allowed Hoffman and Comsky five minutes of rest, then they moved out again. Another twelve hundred meters and they should be at the pickup zone.

AWACS Surveillance Plane, Sea of Japan Saturday, 10 June, 1732 Zulu Sunday, 11 June, 2:32 a.m. Local

Colonel Pete Ehrlich was the commander of the airborne warning and control system (AWACS) plane that General Parker had ordered into the air. As the modified Boeing 707-320B leveled off at thirty-five thousand feet, Ehrlich ordered the thirty-foot dome radar dish, riding on top of the fuselage, to be activated. The advantage the AWACS had over ground-based radars was its ability to look down. The radar signals emitted at altitude were not blocked by the terrain or curvature of the earth. Ehrlich and his crew had an accurate radar picture almost two hundred miles in diameter as the rotodome completed a revolution every ten seconds.

Quickly they began the process of identifying and coding out all known images. Civilian aircraft liners were blanked off the screen. Military training flights were also blanked out. In a short while they had a manageable screen. Only a few spots of activity were left — the four F-16s flying the intercept and search mission, a lot of helicopter activity just south of Yanji in China, and a lone blip inching toward the coast of North Korea, still over international waters.

The radar operator pointed. "That's our boy right there. It's not transmitting any identification transponder code, and it's flying right on top of the waves. Airspeed's right for a Blackhawk."

Ehrlich picked up the headset to call General Parker.

Changbai Mountains, China Saturday, 10 June, 1735 Zulu Sunday, 11 June, 1:35 a.m. Local

Riley and Chong continued to climb. Another kilometer north, and three hundred feet in altitude, would get them over the northern side of the draw. Then they'd see if the picket line was intact to the east. If it wasn't, they'd turn that way and head for the border. If it was, they would have to turn west and head farther up into the mountains.

Behind them they could hear the Chinese overrunning the position they had occupied. A sharp crack resounded through the night air, followed by sudden firing. Riley smiled grimly to himself. The grenade he had left behind, attached to a trip wire, had been triggered. The Chinese were responding by shooting wildly into the dark. With a little luck they might shoot each other. At the very least it would slow them down a little.

Riley looked to the east and could see the glow of the moon starting to rise over the horizon. In another fifteen minutes, visibility would improve. That would reduce the large advantage the night-vision goggles gave him and Chong. They would have to start using the terrain for concealment, not just the darkness of the night. Riley also knew that more troops were going to be pouring into the area. He and Chong had to get as far as they could while night lasted. Even as they picked up the pace, they heard the sound of helicopter blades beating the air to the south and getting closer.

Riley took a quick glance over his shoulder and saw the bright searchlights of two helicopters probing the darkness near the site he and Chong had occupied only twenty minutes ago. Whoever was in charge of the search apparently felt that it was worthwhile to fly the helicopters at night and expose them to possible small-arms fire in the attempt to find them. On the ground Riley could also see the headlights of numerous trucks, bringing in more soldiers.

Colonel Tugur listened to the confused reports coming in from the regimental commander in charge at the shooting site. The position the firers had occupied had been overrun, and no trace of the shooters, other than expended cartridges and a booby trap, had been found. Tugur ordered the two Z-9s to move in with their searchlights to aid in the hunt.