Two Peasants And A President Part 29

"Unless you've got a better idea."

"I don't know how Sheng and our van driver would feel about that. Just because they defected doesn't necessarily mean they'd be comfortable with murdering their fellow soldiers."

"I agree," said Rad. "We've each got a roll of duct tape in our packs along with everything else, more than enough to keep 'em out of circulation for awhile, especially if we taze 'em first."

"OK, but where do we put 'em where some paisano won't find 'em in five minutes and sound the alarm?"

"How about the trunk of Jun's cab? It's not gonna attract a lot of attention parked on some side street. Then Jun rides with us and our driver with Sheng in the jeep, that is, after a change of uniform with the officer. The jeep becomes our outlier; if an army jeep does a huey, it's not gonna attract near as much attention as the van, especially not with an officer in it."

Jim looked at each man in turn. Their eyes told him all he needed to know and Jim picked up the cell phone.

"Jun, there's been a change of plan."

At the next intersection, the first tank was ordered by the officer to set up a road block and told that soldiers would soon arrive to help man it. The Seals watched as the tank driver obediently pulled his tank into position to partially block the intersection.

"Nothin' like unquestioning Chinese army discipline," quipped Brett.

Three blocks west the second tank took up its position. As far as Sheng could tell, the officer had said nothing on the radio that would in any way alert either tank crew to what was going on. Apparently he was more focused on staying alive than being a dead hero.

Then the plan hit a glitch. Jun, who had performed magnificently every step of the way, was less than enthusiastic about having bodies in his trunk, alive or otherwise. He felt that the officer would not have let him go at the intersection if he had suspected him. That and the fact that Jun had always communicated with the van from a distance meant that the two vehicles could not be tied together and Jun could continue to help the dissident cause anonymously. So, using the cab was out of the question.

Jun, however, had another idea; he knew of a restaurant that had been temporarily closed due to a problem with licensing. The restaurant's dumpster was still in the alley behind it. But the restaurant was some distance away. The team weighed the risks of keeping the officer and his driver onboard versus jettisoning the liability. To a man it was felt that it was time to part ways.

Twenty minutes and several detours later, the jeep made an unexpected right turn. Both the officer and his driver bristled when Sheng ordered them to turn into the dark alley, but before they had a chance to protest, their doors were jerked open and Tasers applied to their necks. Five minutes later, their uniforms had been peeled from their unconscious bodies and enough duct tape applied to keep them immobilized and quiet for some time. The Seals gently lowered the dumpster lid and did a final check of the alley. Apparently no one lived above the businesses that were closed at this hour and there was no sign that anyone had been disturbed or alerted.

The caravan proceeded as before, minus two soldiers, but with one of the Seals sitting in the jeep next to Sheng, managing communications while Sheng drove. In a questionable move, George, who of all of them appeared the least obviously American, had donned the officer's uniform. However, at a muscular 6'2", George had to practically be poured into the uniform of the shorter and considerably slimmer officer. With arms and legs protruding several inches, it was just as well he spoke utterly no Chinese because it would have appeared ridiculous in the extreme had he been forced to disembark to deal with a situation. For all intents and purposes, George was now a heavily-armed, uniformed mannequin. But in the darkened interior of the jeep's cab, with only his hat covered head and shoulders visible, no one would be likely to notice that the soldier on the pa.s.senger side didn't look very Chinese.

As he continued exploring potential routes, Jun called a dissident friend and learned that the authorities' tactics were evolving, and to update himself on where the caltrops were likely to be. The authorities were now employing roving patrols, and in order to limit the damage from caltrops, they had started commandeering privately owned cars and taxis to ride ahead. On a more ominous note, they were also regularly shooting at anyone throwing the devices into the streets, resulting in the deaths of innocent bystanders as well as the throwers. Jun grimly soldiered on.

It was on one of the many detours that his luck ran out. Looking for a clear route he saw a roadblock ahead and turned into a side street to avoid it. But a police car stationed at the roadblock saw him divert and began pursuit. In less than a minute, flashing lights lit up his rearview mirror. Panicked, he called the Seals.

"Jun, listen to me carefully," said Jim. "I want you to lead them to us. When you get here, make a U-turn in front of the jeep and pull over, leaving enough s.p.a.ce so that the police car can pull in behind you. Then place both hands on the steering wheel where they can see them and remain calm. We'll take over from there."

No sooner had Jim closed the phone than the wailing of a police siren could be heard. As instructed, Jun slowed when he reached the convoy and made a U-turn, placing the taxi about thirty feet in front of the jeep. The two police officers, pulled in behind the taxi and shone their spotlight on it. In the excitement of the chase, the officers barely glanced at the army jeep or the soldiers inside, thinking it serendipitous to have backup close at hand. Both exited the police car, hands on the b.u.t.ts of their service pistols and approached the taxi cautiously.

They were not yet even with doors of the taxi when they heard a voice behind them: The Chinese version of 'freeze', a term well-known to any virtually any moviegoer in the world, stopped them in their tracks.

"Do not turn around! Using your thumb and forefinger only, grasp the b.u.t.t of your side arms and carefully place them on the ground. Then step back three paces," Sheng ordered, sounding very much like the movies he had seen.

The officers did as they were told and Jun was ordered to collect the pistols. Had the officers turned around, they would have been shocked to see two soldiers, one of whom looked a bit like a high school soph.o.m.ore who had seriously outgrown his clothes. But they never had a chance to see the soldiers before the electrodes found their necks and they collapsed in the street.

"Quick, get 'em out of their clothes. Tape their mouths and then their hands behind them and put 'em in the trunk of the police car. Jun," Jim continued, "change into that one's clothes quickly; you are hereby an honorary member of the Beijing Police Department." The look on Jun's face clearly said he was not happy, but he did as he was told.

Unlike the alley, where the team had enjoyed privacy, they were now stripping two police officers on a public street and even at this hour, it had not gone unnoticed. At least two residents could be seen, one in a window and the other in a partially open doorway. Either could alert the authorities. As the Seals stuffed the two unconscious police officers into the trunk of their own car, the doors of two residences opened and more Chinese faces peered out at the extraordinary gathering. Then a most unexpected thing happened. Citizens, who for all their lives had hated and feared the police, began to clap. In a sign of both peace and victory, Brett raised his right hand, with index and middle fingers in the shape of a V, which prompted one resident to shout: "Good luck!" in heavily accented English. The other residents raised their own hands in the sign of victory.

"They are wishing us success," said Jun as he finished b.u.t.toning his uniform shirt and tucked the pistol into its holster. The people detest President Li's regime and hope that we will help put an end to it."

"OK, team, let's move," shouted Jim. Brett got behind the wheel of Jun's taxi, looking not at all like a Chinese cab driver, but hoping that the police had not had an opportunity to radio in the tag number, thus tying Jun to what had happened here. The cab would be dropped several streets over where Jun would hopefully be able to retrieve it and his clothes later, a prospect that seemed increasingly unlikely as events unfolded.

With Brett in Jun's cab bringing up the rear, what was undoubtedly the oddest procession on the streets of Beijing that night pulled away from the curb. Jun, driving the police car, led them out of the area as quickly as possible, lest an unsympathetic resident call the authorities. They were now, according to Jun, approximately seven miles from the emba.s.sy, seven miles filled increasingly with roadblocks, tanks, soldiers and police, all looking for the men who had so angered the president. They were also, it appeared, almost out of options.

It was at this point they pa.s.sed something that gave Rad an idea. They circled several blocks away as he explained over the phone. Then, after dropping Jun's taxi in the parking lot of a small convenience store, Brett piled into the van and the procession turned around.

Eight blocks later, Jun turned into a double driveway, flanked by 'no parking' signs. The red brick building was fronted by two large, garage-type doors, each with a revolving light that could be turned on in case of emergency. The men inside, who had been playing the Chinese board game, mahjong, looked up at the appearance of a police car. Jun took his time, pretending to organize his clipboard etc., before exiting the police car and approaching the men seated inside. By the time he stood before them, four Seals and two Chinese defectors had snuck around the side of the building and, on cue, burst into the garage and covered the men with Kalashnikovs and pistols, quickly herding them into a sleeping area out of sight of the two open doors.

Stripping and hog-tying police and soldiers had been a pleasure. Doing it to firefighters was not. As they did what had to be done, Jun explained to the men what had happened to Brett's son and daughter-in-law on their honeymoon and to Brett more recently. The firefighters were clearly moved and professed that they would make no attempt to escape and alert the authorities, making the Seals task even more difficult.

It is interesting that in a city of 19.6 million people, covering 6,290 square kilometers, there are only 89 fire stations, a testament to the government's preoccupation with police. 6,553 firefighters compared with more than 140,000 police officers is a telling statistic and one which helps to explain the universal antipathy toward the police. It is not crime that is responsible for the disparity, indeed, crimes against individuals are seldom investigated here, at least not without a hefty bribe. It is 'crimes' against the State that the government feels necessitates such a smothering police presence.

Fire Station #69, while by no means the largest in Beijing, nevertheless had two fire trucks, a hook and ladder and a standard pumper truck. Similar in most respects to other trucks, the Seals encountered no challenges in driving either, however, traversing the distance to the American emba.s.sy would soon prove to be an endeavor worthy of their considerable skills.

"Norwood,"

"There's been a slight change," said Jim, detecting the sound of the station chief taking a deep breath. "I need you to do something," he continued.

"Am I to be surprised by this," quipped Norwood, whose attempt at humor could not mask an uneasiness at what he knew would likely be the most stressful period of his life.

"I need you to start a fire," Jim deliberately deadpanned.

"Excuse me!"

"I need you to start a fire to give us something to practice on," Jim continued.

"Which part of the emba.s.sy would you like me to burn down?"

"You choose. I just need some smoke; oh, and the Marine guards prepared to open the front door wide when we show up in our shiny new red trucks."

"Your flair for the dramatic has just rendered several thousand hairs on my head permanently gray. Is there anything else you desire?"

"If you're a praying man, now would be a good time," said Jim. "We're a little more than seven miles from you, according to our faithful guide. How long it takes to get there depends on how many tanks we have to deal with."

"Would you like me to call out the air force to help with that?"

"That would be nice," replied Jim. "It's been lovely chatting with you, but we've got a fire to fight."

"Good luck and G.o.d's speed," responded Norwood in a more serious tone.

The entire team, save for Jun, was now dressed in firefighting garb. As expected, the uniforms were ill-fitting, but with the enormous hats, heavy coats and other gear, they could pa.s.s for firefighters as long as no one got a close look. The Seals did not intend to slow down enough to give that to anyone.

With flashing lights and blaring sirens, Jun's police car led the procession out of the fire station. Five minutes later, they were on the expressway speeding toward the emba.s.sy. For the first two miles, cars and trucks obediently pulled aside to allow the procession to pa.s.s, but in the distance a tank sat on the shoulder with two police cars, lights flashing, funneling the traffic into one lane where a policeman was checking papers. The newly minted police officer and firefighters held their breaths and sat on their horns as the thousands of pounds of steel upon which they sat rushed forward unabated.

It had been decided that if a lane was totally blocked, Jun would pull his police car to the side and let the heavy fire trucks attempt to ram their way through the blockage, since stopping was not an option. It the fire trucks were disabled, the heavily armed Seals would hijack any serviceable vehicle they could and continue on. It was hoped that it would not be necessary to use their weapons, but if capture were imminent, they would not hesitate.

It was becoming clear to those manning the roadblock that the approaching police car and fire trucks were not slowing as the trucks air horns punctuated their sirens. The police officer who had been checking papers hastily ordered the motorist off to the side of the road along with two others in order to clear a path for the onrushing procession. The powerful gust of wind created by the speeding trucks pushed him back on his heels, emphasizing the wisdom of that decision.

Jun's heart was pounding as he cleared the parked police cars by mere inches. So tight was the opening that one of the fire trucks decorated a car b.u.mper with a streak of red paint. Those manning the roadblock were startled by the unabated speed of the fire trucks but were blissfully unaware that the firefighters were other than what they appeared to be.

Jim thought for a instant he was peeing his pants when he realized it was his secure satellite phone buzzing.

"Yeah,"

"They're looking for a missing jeep," Norwood said, "I don't suppose you know anything about that."

"Depending on which jeep they're looking for, I might," answered Jim. "I think we may have left a little red paint on a roadblock we just blew through. I don't think they suspected anything 'cause they were trying to clear the way for us."

"I hope you buried the jeep."

"Unfortunately, we forgot to bring shovels. It's probably not going be too long before they find it and when they do, it's gonna lead them to us right quick."

"Where are you?" Norwood asked.

"We're on the expressway, less than five miles out and movin' fast. You ready for us?"

"The Marines weren't too enthusiastic about p.i.s.sing off the amba.s.sador, but after I explained the Seals don't leave Seals behind part, they got onboard. They've collected some waste baskets in the courtyard, so far without alerting the amba.s.sador and they're filling 'em with paper and diesel fuel as we speak. We may even need your firefighting services by the time you get here."

"What's it look like outside?"

"Two tanks at a respectful distance and several police cars not far from the entrance, more police cars parked in the area. Unless they move those tanks to block the entrance, which they're very definitely not supposed to do, you should have a clear shot."

"As I recall, there are many things they're not supposed to do," replied Jim.

"True. Enjoy your scenic trip through Beijing. We'll be waiting for you. Oh, and if you can, let us know when you're close. The security doors are designed for just that, not for speedy opening."

"Fighter-bombers in the air and headed this way, Captain. ETA twelve minutes."

"All right, let's get the rest of our birds up. How close are the destroyers?"

"Just entering missile range," answered the XO.

"Communicate to our cruisers and destroyers that if so much as a single missile leaves the rack on any Chinese plane or ship, they are authorized to respond with a ma.s.sive counter attack. There will be no sucker punches today, gentlemen."

In an armored area well below decks aboard the cruiser USS Cowpens (CG 63), the men and women manning the darkened Combat Information Center (CIC) stared with mounting unease at the glowing flat panel screens before them. Icons representing the Chinese destroyers crept inexorably closer to their ship while those representing the fighter-bombers approached at super-sonic speed. Sensors aboard the US ships had not detected a radar lock from any Chinese combatant, but few believed that this highly aggressive maneuver was a bluff.

The first missile or torpedo launched from any Chinese ship or plane would trigger a series of events culminating in a firestorm not seen since World War II. Within one second of launch, the first layer of countermeasures aboard every US ship would be activated, attempting to jam or decoy the enemy missiles away from their targets. Simultaneously, a barrage of anti-ship missiles would smother the two destroyers with incoming projectiles so numerous and lethal that their own countermeasures could not hope to parry them. In the first phase of the battle, the outnumbered Chinese destroyers would almost certainly be overcome and sunk by the superior US forces.

Simultaneously, FA-18 Super Hornets would launch a spread of long-range air-to-air missiles that would take down, at the very least, a substantial number of the Chinese fighter-bombers arrayed against them. US destroyers would also have launched their anti-submarine weapons against the two Song cla.s.s submarines, as would the Los Angeles cla.s.s nuclear attack sub leading the battle group while the USS Hawaii silently monitored events, looking for other hidden Chinese subs and dealing with them.

At this point, there would be large numbers of Chinese missiles in the air and very probably a minimum of four torpedoes headed toward the battle group, princ.i.p.ally toward the carrier. This would be the first inflection point in the battle, the period of time before it becomes known how many of the enemy projectiles would reach the fleet. The crews aboard each ship would experience fear unlike anything they had ever dreamed as the battle largely turned into machine against machine with the loud buzzing sound of automated point defense Gatling guns being the last sound that some would ever hear.

In a matter of seconds, men and women would begin to die as thousands of pounds of warheads pierced their ships. Like giant blow torches, the explosion of these warheads would incinerate the areas of the ships they struck, triggering automatic firefighting equipment as well as damage control parties who would be expected to enter h.e.l.l in order to prevent the ships from being lost.

Some ships would sustain little or no damage while others would be fighting for their lives as seawater poured into their interior s.p.a.ces and flames neared ammunition magazines. Those still able to fight would find another barrage of anti-ship missiles headed toward them from the Chinese planes that had not been shot out of the sky by the FA-18 Super Hornets. These would likely be the final missiles these Chinese planes would ever launch as they were overwhelmed by the remaining missiles from the Hornets as well as dozens of anti-aircraft and ship-killer missiles from the US cruisers and destroyers.

Beneath the waves, the many anti-submarine weapons launched against the two Songs would overwhelm their defenses. Their pierced hulls would be abruptly subjected to the extremes of high pressure water rushing inward, water that would compress the air inside so quickly as to cause it to ignite, incinerating those still alive in a superheated flash.

The numbers of US ships and planes either damaged or destroyed by the initial attack would now be a.s.sessed and those still able to fight would await the missiles launched by Chinese sh.o.r.e-based batteries and any other fighter-bombers that they could bring to bear. Given the initial numerical superiority of the carrier-borne planes, Chinese air strength would be greatly diminished until planes could be launched from other bases, something that was inevitable. But the American ships still capable of fighting would begin launching cruise missiles against Chinese air bases and radar installations within reach. It would be a very close thing, and as the Secretary of Defense had pointed out, the only reinforcements would be coming from China.

Captain Johnston knew these horrors, knew that by dawn some of his fleet could be on the bottom, but not before the fleet had badly mauled whatever Chinese forces were arrayed before it, displaying the courage and bravery that are in the best traditions of the US Navy. a.s.suming the Chinese kept pouring resources into the battle, the 7 Fleet would eventually be overwhelmed. It would be up to the American people to decide if their commander-in-chief had erred in depriving the fleet of the reserves it had heretofore always been afforded.

"Captain, eight Vietnamese SU-27 fighters inbound. Looks like they've come to protect their frigates," the XO announced.

"I'm surprised not to see more Chinese aircraft," said the captain. "Unless they're planning to rely on land-based missiles. If that's the case, it would have been far more effective to attack us when we were right off their coast."

"I don't think they expected us to use the Taiwan Strait, Captain. Something tells me this whole thing was hatched at the last minute; it just doesn't have the hallmarks of a carefully planned operation."

"I agree. I think they planned to sink the container ship before we were near enough to defend it and then sit back and dare us to do anything about it. They never expected the Vietnamese to be able to defend themselves so capably or that we would take a different route. I'd bet a month's pay that President Li was so enraged at the sinking of his frigates that he ordered his navy into this ill-conceived adventure. No navy man in his right mind would organize a battle this way."

"In about ten minutes, this whole thing is going to take on a life of its own and no one will be able to stop it," Captain Johnston added with finality. "I pray that tomorrow morning the world does not find itself at war."

70.

Officer Fung was unceremoniously notified that his patrol shift had been extended until further notice, the result of martial law now gripping the capitol. He was already almost three hours beyond his normal shift time and fatigue was taking its toll. It was for this reason that he drove by the parked army jeep without giving it a second thought. Three blocks later, his weary brain finally shifted into gear, reminding him that a missing army jeep was part of one of many bulletins that had come over his radio during his shift.

The sleep-deprived officer turned his police car around and headed back to the jeep, at which point he called it in, noting that it took several attempts to get through. The absence of fire trucks in the fire station, like the parked jeep did not at first arouse any suspicion. A fire could have called them away, though he did not remember hearing any fire calls over his radio. He was looking for someone to ask about the jeep parked out back when he tried a closed door in the rear of the station. What he found inside awakened his tired brain like a gunshot.

It was at this point that his shift supervisor pulled into the fire station driveway. Fifteen minutes later, President Li was advised that the escapees had commandeered two fire trucks and a police car, whereupon he responded: "Bring them to me in chains. If you cannot bring them to me alive, then bring me their corpses!"

"The emba.s.sy is on this street, approximately two miles ahead," Jun said, responding to a call from Jim. "We're getting very close."

In his rearview mirror, Sheng saw flashing lights.

"They're behind us now," he announced, "and they're gaining!"

Jun could hear the roar of the police car's engine as he pressed the pedal closer to the floor. The car surged forward, already doing nearly seventy on a city street, which due to the late hour and the declaration of martial law was virtually empty. Suddenly he realized that there were more flashing lights ahead, many more.

"Big road block ahead, very big!" he announced excitedly into the phone.

"All right, Jun, let us pull around you and take the lead. We can do a lot more damage with these trucks," Jim said.

The big fire engines were soon doing almost eighty and the distance between them and the monster roadblock was shrinking quickly.

"Norwood," answered the station chief.

"We're just down the street and about to run a major roadblock," Jim announced, "You ready there?"

"I've got eight fully-armed Marines inside the gate. I just heard on the Chinese military radio net that they've found the jeep. They're on to you and our smoking wastebaskets aren't going to fool anyone. I think I've managed to wake up half the emba.s.sy though; I expect to see the amba.s.sador down here any minute now."

"Tell him to keep the cafeteria open," said Jim.