At least the old man had shown him about the secret underground area and the fake wall. Jiang had had it built early on when he was doing a bit of smuggling. Four times the authorities had searched his lands and buildings, but had found none of the hidden goods.
Back in the mansion Sing checked the monitors. He had intrusion alarms set off in one section. The intrusion alarms were the vibration type that gave the intruder no warning that he had been spotted. How many of them? Where would they attack? Would it be with rifle fire or machine guns? His men could stand off a good bit of firepower.
Quickly he called half his defense forces to the side of the building where the sensors had gone off. Then he scowled at the monitor displays. He could see sensors going off all around one side of the place. It was as if hundreds of men were moving in at every angle to the mansion. Impossible. Rabbits? Maybe. He hurried to the side door away from the main thrust of the intruders and checked his pickup. It was gassed and ready. It was a two-year-old four-wheel-drive rig that could move out of the area quickly and into the back country with a select group of protectors. That would be a last resort, and he was sure he could stand off the squad of men he figured were out there. The other sensors? Now he understood it. There could be one or two men making a recon jogging around the mansion. That would set off the other sensors. Yes.
He went back to the north section, where the threat was. He had five men there with submachine guns. Sing took the night-vision glasses from his top man and studied the area in front. At first he couldn’t see anything move. Then he did. It looked to be no more than a squad or two of men moving forward cautiously. They were about two hundred yards away.
The lights were off in the rooms where he had his men stationed. He had two men open widows from the bottom and set up their submachine guns there.
“I have another section to get ready,” he told them. “In two minutes I want you to fire a hundred rounds at the intruders and scatter them.”
Sing nodded. That would scare them off. He hurried to the next room.
Outside, on the flat land inside the rows of pineapple, Murdock stopped his men at the two-hundred-yard point. He brought his platoon up to an assault line and kept them five yards apart. The chain-link fence had been only four feet high and was not electric. It also had two gates in it. It had not been put up for security. He used the Motorola.
“This is as close as we get. Who has the EAR rifles?”
Bradford and Fernandez spoke up on the radio.
“Have a man beside each of you use a 5.56 round and blast two windows on the ground floor in those two sections just ahead. One on each side of that side door. Then, with the windows punched out, put a round from the EAR in each area. Then we wait and see what happens. Set up and fire when ready.”
One sharp 5.56 round went off almost at once, followed by a second. Then the warmed-up EAR weapons gave off their hiss as the bolt of compressed sound slashed through the air, shot inside the building, and exploded with a withering sound that reminded Murdock of a clap of thunder going off next to him.
They waited. There was no return fire. There had been no lights on in the rooms closest to them. Lights still showed in other sections of the spread-out one-story mansion. Murdock could see the tennis courts in the moonlight. There were two of them side by side, probably near the swimming pools.
Five minutes later by his watch, Murdock moved his men forward. Lam took the two hundred yards at a sprint. At once he saw that all the glass in the windows had been blasted out and the door stood open, sagging on only one hinge.
Lam edged close to the door and peered around it using his NVGs. Inside the room in the dull green glow of the night-vision goggles, he saw books and papers scattered, some light furniture tipped over, and near the front windows, he found four men set up with submachine guns. All were unconscious. He darted in and tied all of them with riot cuffs on ankles and wrists, then met Murdock at the door.
“All down and out in here, Skipper,” Lam said. “Probably the same on the next section.”
Murdock used the radio. “We’re in. Let’s move forward and clear the building. Remember, there is valuable cargo here somewhere.”
They cleared three more rooms. Then, toward the center of the spread-out complex, they came to lights. It was a huge living room with a massive fireplace, and to one side they found an old Chinese man in a finely brocaded silk robe smoking a hand-rolled reefer.
The man was so calm, Murdock wondered if he was conscious. Then the old Chinese man waved the reefer and smiled faintly.
“Ah, yes, the ones who attack my home. I assure you, sir, that I have nothing to hide.”
Murdock sat down on a finely made sofa and watched the ancient man. He had no idea how old he was.
“We’re looking for the Chinese sailors who evidently took over your plantation. Where are the rest of them?”
“They were led by a young commander. He was here, but when you made such a dramatic and loud entrance, he moved on, probably to the far end of the house or into the packing sheds. This is a working plantation, you know. I grow some of the best pineapple in the islands. I’m not with any large company. I grow my own fruit. Did you know that it takes three years to produce a marketable pineapple?”
“I didn’t know that. Where are the two American Navy admirals and their families?”
The old man took another puff and offered the roach to Murdock, who shook his head.
“I saw them when they arrived, but have not seen them since. The young military man did not ask if he could come here. He invaded me. I am the victim here of a foreign attack. I’ll want compensation from the Chinese government.”
“You’ll have to get in a long line for that one. If you don’t mind, my men and I will check out the rest of your buildings.”
“Please. That young Chinese sailor was not at all the kind of person I wish to have in my home. Thank you for driving him away.”
“Oh, I don’t think that he’s too far away. We’ll find him. Enjoy your smoke.”
Murdock waved the rest of his SEALs through into more rooms. They found six bedrooms, three baths, two more large assembly rooms, and then at the back, a long refinished area that might have been part of the packing operation years ago. Now it was set up more like a playroom, with pool tables, Ping Pong, shuffleboard, and half a dozen dart boards.
They went through it quickly and came to the current packing sheds. Murdock met DeWitt coming back the other way.
“Nobody home, Cap. We’ve checked out the rest of the packing sheds. Found a barracks-like place with thirty sleeping bags in it and a whole shit-pot full of U.S. MREs. The foreign troops are getting desperate.”
“So he had thirty men here. We captured five up front. Where are the rest of them?”
“I checked with Lam with his rear guard at the back,” DeWitt said. “He said that no one had bugged out the back door. They’re still here somewhere.”
“Nooks and crannies wouldn’t do it. There has to be a secret room or a tunnel out of here somewhere. Let’s take this mansion apart until we find it. Won’t do any good to talk to the old Chinese guy who owns the place. He’s yelling for a payback for the damage to his windows.”
They went through the house again, and then a third time. After they had checked the house the first time with no escape out the back, Lam and his two men came in to help on the search. They turned on every switch they could find until the house blazed with light.
Still they found nothing.
Murdock noticed it first. There had been a four-by-four Ford pickup truck, a 350, the big one, parked alongside one of the packing sheds the first two times through. This time the pickup was gone.