“Boarding team deploy! Deploy!” Colonel Egan was yelling into the intercom. “We’re too close. I’m going to have to keep closing.”
“We’re going out,” a voice replied.
“That’s Lieutenant Markham, Bravo Team Leader,” Kopina said.
A TASC-suited figure appeared, cutting across the camera. An MK-98 was in the figure’s gloved hands. A tether line was attached to the figure and a bulky maneuvering pack was on its back.
“There’s Markham,” Kopina said.
Markham was about twenty feet outside the shuttle’s cargo bay now, between it and the talon, which was less than fifty meters away. There was a bright gold burst from the tip of the talon.
“Oh, God,” Duncan muttered.
A thin golden line of light flashed. It went to Markham’s left, then adjusted, cutting right across the SEAL commander.
The scream that echoed out of the speakers lasted less than a second. Markham was in two pieces, neatly sliced, the top half still attached by the tether, the bottom half tumbling away. Frozen blood floated about both parts.
“I’m up!” a voice yelled. A second space-suited figure appeared, this one with no tether.
“Jesus!” Kopina exclaimed. “He must have just jumped out of the cargo bay.”
The man held an MK-98 in his hands and he was bringing it to bear when the ship fired again. Duncan admitted the bravery of the SEALs while recognizing the futility of their action.
“Emergency firing!” Colonel Egan’s voice was terse. “We’re getting the hell out of here.”
Another, larger golden beam lanced out. The camera recorded that for the briefest of moments, then the screen went black.
“We can blow this door,” Croteau said.
“And bring the army down on top of us,” Lo Fa noted.
Croteau shrugged. “At least we’ll have a fighting chance. It’s still dark out there. In the confusion, many of us can get away.”
There was a murmur of assent among the mercenaries gathered in the corridor. They were two hundred meters away from the main chamber, where Elek was still working at the console. They did not have much time before she realized they were gone.
Che Lu remained silent, having already made her decision to stay. Croteau looked around, getting assent.
“Blow it,” he ordered.
As the mercenaries’ demolitions men rigged the charges, everyone else moved back down the corridor.
Che Lu pulled Lo Fa to the side. “I wish you well.”
Lo Fa shifted his feet. “You should come with me. This place is not good.” “I have to stay.”
Lo Fa grimaced and looked away.
“You only promised to get me in, and you did,” Che Lu said. “You must take care of yourself.”
“I didn’t get you in like I planned,” Lo Fa said. “Getting you captured was not part of it.”
“I will be alt right.”
Croteau raised his voice so the cluster of people could hear him. “We blow the blocked entrance, we’re going to have to move fast. I recommend everyone move west. According to our man here”—he pointed at Lo Fa—“there are guerrilla bands in that direction you can hook up with. They might be able to pass you through out of China.”
The demo men came down the corridor unreeling their detonating cord. Croteau pulled back the charging handle on his weapon and made sure there was a round in the chamber.
“Ready?” He looked about. “Fire in the hole!” He pulled the ignitor.
There was the sharp crack of explosives, amplified by the tight confines of the tunnel.
“Let’s go!” Croteau dashed up the corridor, the rest of the mercenaries following.
Lo Fa took Che Lu’s hand and shook it. He bowed, then he was gone up the tunnel.
Che Lu turned away.
“What have you done?” Elek was hurrying across the large open space. “They desired to leave,” Che Lu said. “And they did.”
“They breached the perimeter!” Elek was looking down the corridor.
“When there was the opening up top,” Che Lu noted, “the army was in no rush to enter. I don’t think they will try now either.”
“Then who is that?” Elek asked as they heard footsteps coming from the corridor. Che Lu cocked her head and listened. A smile came to her face as a familiar figure appeared.
“You could not leave me, old man.” She gave Lo Fa a hug.
“Ah, don’t flatter yourself, old woman.”
Che Lu stepped back. “What is wrong?” Lo Fa tapped his ear. “Listen.”
“I hear nothing,” Che Lu said.
“Correct.” Lo Fa said. “By now there should be firing between the mercenaries and the army. There is none. I went out. As the mercenaries ran, I looked about. The army is gone. There is no one out there.”
There was silence for a few seconds as all three thought about that strange occurrence.
“Why do you think they have done this?” Che Lu asked, although she had a suspicion that was so devastating she dared not voice it.
Lo Fa had no such reservation. “They are going to try to destroy the tomb,” he said. “The troops have been pulled back to prevent them from being caught in the destruction.”
“They seek to destroy us,” Elek said. Che Lu could not tell if it was a question or a statement, but Lo Fa nodded.
Elek turned and headed for the control room. After a few moments, Che Lu and Lo Fa followed.
“Columbia has been destroyed.” Kopina threw imagery on the conference-room table. “We’ve had the closest satellite take some shots. All it picked up was the talon and some wreckage.”
“There were ten people on board?” Duncan confirmed.
Kopina nodded. “Yes.”
“Any chance someone might still be alive?”
Kopina sat down. “No.”
There was silence in the conference room for several moments.
“Could there still be Airlia alive on board that talon?” Duncan asked.
Kopina shrugged. “I have no idea. The hull seems to be intact. The blast might have damaged its drive system but nothing else.”
“Did you have any—” Duncan began, but Kopina cut her off.
“Do you think we would have sent those people there like that if we had had the slightest clue? It looked dead, we assumed it was dead.”
“Maybe—” Duncan began.
“What?” Kopina asked.
“Maybe there weren’t any Airlia still alive on the talon. Maybe it was controlled remotely?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Kopina said. “Columbia is gone either way.”
“What about the mothership?” Duncan asked.
“Osebold is preparing to board,” Kopina said. “There is no sign any of the Airlia that were in the cargo bay survived the blast.”
“How far apart are the mothership and the talon?” Duncan asked.
“About eight hundred kilometers.”
“So no chance the talon could attack the mother-ship?”
“I would think,” Kopina said, “that if they had been capable of doing it, the Airlia would have maneuvered to the mothership already.”
“Unless they were playing possum to draw us in,” Duncan said.
“Look,” Kopina snapped, “I’m just the mission specialist here. I didn’t make the plan.”
“No.” Lisa Duncan’s voice was harsh. “But I wonder who did.”
Croteau halted, raising his fist. His hand froze behind him at the signal. He estimated they’d made two klicks from the tomb and no contact yet. The other merk groups had scattered in slightly different directions, all heading generally west. And no shots from anywhere.
Croteau knelt as another mercenary came up next to him. “Something’s wrong,” Croteau whispered. “There were PLA crawling all over this place. And they got to be pissed about their buddies getting gassed.”