Up on the hill overlooking the helicopters, Olaf ordered his men to fire. And they too unleashed the antitank weapons, demolishing both aircraft in massive fireballs that caused the nearby SEALs to move back, away from the heat. A half minute later the fuel dump went up, sending a rolling ball of flame 100 feet into the air.
Rick Hunter looked up at the massive cloud of black smoke and muttered, “Jesus Christ! We might have overcooked this…you could see this fire in Shanghai.”
So far, no prisoners had been either located or released. But the SEALs had done that which they were best at: brutal demolition of any installation they wanted removed, and any guards who might get in the way. The jail on Xiachuan was well and truly in American hands. At least, for the moment it was. The Navy guards in the cell blocks were unlikely to be a match for the SEALs and their SAS colleagues.
Unsurprisingly, Admiral Zhang and Admiral Zu had not gone to bed, as the crisis in Canton continued to unfold. Already there were reports of badly burned men, of colossal levels of radioactivity. And now there was a further problem.
A young lieutenant was standing in the room informing the C-in-C that they were having trouble making phone contact with Xiachuan.
“How long have you been trying?” he asked.
“About ten minutes, sir. Since you asked us to inform Commander Li you wanted to see him in the morning.”
“What kind of response?”
“That’s the trouble, sir. No response. We can’t even get the phone to ring.”
“You mean the usual one in the main comms room?”
“Well, that one, and the private line to Commander Li, sir. It’s not that they won’t answer. It just won’t ring out.”
“Try the patrol boat. We’ve done that before.”
“We’ve tried it, sir. Same result.”
“How about the radio?”
“Nothing, sir. We have three technicians on it now, but they’re not having any luck.”
“So the problem is not just electronic, the phone wires. It’s also affecting the airwaves.”
“Yessir.”
“Have you left satellite comms in place?”
“Yessir. And the replies usually come back very quickly from Xiachuan. But we’re getting nothing.”
“No phones. No radio response. Nothing on the satellite,” the C-in-C murmured, a chill feeling of sheer dread pervading his entire body and mind. “And the American submarine blows up a few hours before.”
He stood up, and said, “Thank you, Lieutenant.” To his friend Zu Jicai, he said, “Jicai, we are under attack. The coincidences are too great.”
Admiral Zu looked slightly helpless. He stood up and said, “You mean the Americans?”
“Who do you think I mean,” he snapped, “the Tibetans?” All semblance of self-control was receding with the onset of the admiral’s mounting anger.
“You mean they are on the island?”
“I don’t know. But I think it’s possible.”
“Well, how did they get there? Is this an invasion?”
“I underestimated them,” he muttered. “Jicai, I underestimated them. And I have done it before. No one knows how ruthless the Americans are when they have their backs to the wall. I just wonder, is there anything left for me…what can I do…how can I save face?”
Lt. Commander Rick Hunter could now hear only sporadic fire as Lieutenant Merloni and his men tried to wipe out the six guards on the outer rim. The first four had been simple, gunned down as they raced back clockwise from the north wall at the first sound of the guardroom blowing up.
The last two had come around the other way, very quickly, seen the direction of the SEAL machine gunfire, and opened up in the correct direction. They had not hit anyone, and one of them had gone down. But he regained his feet and ran back around the wall with his colleague, and they had escaped in the confusion.
Rick Hunter and his men had loosed off ultrabright flares to illuminate the area, and Lieutenant Merloni had pursued. But it was not successful, and they all believed both the Chinese to be still alive in the woods, which was bad news, but unavoidable. And it was both pointless and dangerous to continue pursuit in the darkness of the jungle, where anyone could be hit and killed.
Rick Hunter decided that now was the time and, signaling for Bobby Allensworth to bring the big machine gun, he and two other SEALs began to work their way down the hill and across the still dust-blown area in front of the buildings. For the first time, he noticed the rain had stopped.
And now the massive SEAL commander walked down by the light of the burning fuel dump. All around him were the men who had caused such havoc in the Chinese jail, falling in with him, walking tall, their submachine guns held out in front of them, many of them with their bandanas scorched black from the smoke, especially those who had been close to the burning fuel and the explosions inside the jail.
Rusty Bennett appeared from nowhere, covered in blood, and announced that he was on his way to the pickup point of the beach.
“You hurt, Rusty?” asked Rick, somewhat alarmed at the sight of his 2 I/C, who looked as if he had just gone three rounds with Mike Tyson.
“No, not me. I’m fine.”
“Guess someone must have got hurt right next to you, huh?”
“Guess so. See you later, Chief.”
The searchlights were still on, but Chief McCarthy and his men were coming out of the main gates now, and all three of them were variously splattered with blood.
Rick just shook his head at the unending courage of the men he fought with. “Great job, guys,” he said. “Just a great job.”
Olaf, Catfish, Buster, Rattlesnake, Syd, Fred and Charlie arrived outside the gates next, all of them covered in either mud, dust, blood, or smoke burns. As soldiers go, they looked ghastly with their black faces, grim expressions and long strides forward.
“Terrific job, guys,” said Rick again. To the three bloodstained SAS men, he just said, “A special thank you, gentlemen. We’re all grateful for the real rough end of the mission you carried out.”
“Don’t mention it, Ricky my old son,” said Syd jauntily. “All in the line of duty.”
“A bit beyond that,” said the SEAL commander. “Now, gentlemen, let’s go and get the guys free…and for Christ’s sake be careful inside the cell blocks. There’s armed Chinese guards in there, as we know, so don’t fire randomly or we might hit the prisoners.
“Let’s go…nice and careful…fire to kill, but selectively.”
11
Lt. Commander Rick Hunter issued his last orders before entering the wide gap where the main jail gates had been a few minutes earlier. “Okay, guys…we know there are still Chinese guards in here, in the cell blocks, and possibly in the building on the left as we enter. Therefore we go in as if we’re attacking a fortified area…strong frontal attack, heavy covering fire against the cell block, but don’t, for Christ’s sake, hit anyone inside.”
“Sir, what’s the door to the main cell block made of, and is it likely to be locked? Don’t wanna get caught outside against the wall with our shorts down, right?”