“What?”
“It sounds like a chain saw or something.” Donna sprang over to the heavily curtained window and parted it slightly to reveal a gray shaft of overcast afternoon light. “There, look at that!” she said triumphantly, excited to be seeing something different that she understood.
“What is it?” Taylor glanced out the window.
About five stories below them a motorized “V” winged hang glider was climbing in a loose circle, arcing out away from the building then coming back. It passed right by their ten-story window with a loud drone. Its pilot wore goggles and the camouflage uniform of a PLA commando. “I wrote these things up in a report at headquarters. It’s a poor man’s solution to air assault. It doesn’t surprise me to see it here.”
“Why do…”
They heard footsteps pounding down the hallway outside. There was a shout at the door, “Away from the door!” Three seconds later the door splintered asunder and four masked soldiers burst into the room. Taylor instinctively stepped in front of Klein.
Two soldiers roughly grabbed Taylor, one man to an arm, and hustled him off. The other two painfully grabbed Donna and half carried her out the door into the dimly lit hall.
“Where are…” Taylor began to demand.
“Shut up!” a commando hissed in English.
Donna was surprised to find that when they hit the darkened stairwell, they went up, not down. Five frenzied flights later and Donna was on the roof, out of breath and blinking towards the ruddy western sunset.
The graveled roof of the hotel was packed with hang gliders, commandos, and a few Chinese officers. Donna saw Fu Zemin near the edge of the roof talking to a tall, well-muscled colonel. Donna heard another group of people pounding up the stairs. The soldiers pulled her forward and out of the way of the entrance to the stairwell. She saw Fu look in her direction and do a double take. He frowned and turned to Colonel Chu.
Donna looked over her shoulder just as Bob Lindley came into view, a commando on either arm. “What’s going on here? I demand to speak to your commanding officer! This is an outrage!”
Before she could process this unexpected development she heard Fu Zemin and Colonel Chu walking towards her carrying on in Mandarin. “…I have no idea why the Americans are up here sir, I thought it was your idea,” Chu said loudly enough that the small group of regular PLA officers heard it. Donna noticed Chu’s right hand flash a signal behind Fu’s back as the two walked in lockstep to where the three Americans stood with their six commando escorts.
A squad of commandos moved in amongst the knot of four officers.
Lindley raised his voice to Fu above the confusing din of shouts and sputtering ultralight motors, “Mr. Fu, what is the meaning of this?”
Fu, a deeply troubled look on his face finally turned to Colonel Chu and said in Mandarin, “Yes, colonel, what is the meaning of this? You call me up to see you off on your raid. Only a few special staff officers even know about this mission, and the three Americans show up…” Fu turned to face the Americans, reaching with his right hand into his khaki jacket and stepping away from Chu. Fu took one fluid step away from Chu and turned toward the commando, gun in hand. “Now, what is going on Colonel Chu?” Fu spat the colonel’s name out with contempt.
Chu stood his ground, “Comrade Fu, you have been under much stress recently. Please, I must be allowed to begin my mission. We are on a tight schedule.”
Donna saw one of the officers tap a colleague on the shoulder and point in their direction. Chu took a gliding step forward, angling slightly towards Fu’s gun hand.
Fu jumped back and screamed, “No! I know who you are now! I know why you looked so familiar. I won’t let you kill me like your father killed my father! Get away from me! Guards! Guards!” Fu raised the gun, a black 9mm semi automatic. Chu lunged at the Party man, sidestepping the gun barrel and grabbing the older man’s right arm and hand. The gun discharged, gouging out a dusty hole from the concrete housing of the stairwell just above Lindley’s head. Chu spun into Fu, turning his back to Fu, then kicking his right foot out behind him and right into Fu’s groin. Fu let loose a cry and crumpled as the pistol fired again, this time hitting the commando to Lindley’s left in the forehead. The three Americans dove for cover while their commando guards scattered reflexively.
Donna had seen and heard enough to understand what was happening. She urgently yelled at Taylor, “The commando officer is mutinying. I think we may have a ticket out of here!”
Donna looked over to where the officers were standing just a moment before and saw the last one falling to the ground, grasping futilely at the strand of wire that was being tightened around his neck by a burly commando. She started to get up.
“You don’t have a ticket anywhere!”
It was Lindley! Donna spun around.
Lindley was aiming an assault rifle past Donna at Colonel Chu.
“You son-of-a-bitch!” Taylor growled from a crouch then struck.
Lindley squeezed the trigger. The powerful weapon loosed a round that caught the general in the chest, knocking him back on his rear.
Chu hip shot Lindley three times in the chest. The weapon flew out of Lindley’s arms as he staggered back, then fell forward, face down next to General Taylor.
Taylor struggled to one elbow and made a great effort to turn Lindley over. “Why?” he asked hoarsely, “Why the hell did you do it?”
Lindley stared up at the darkening pink clouds, “I… I thought they were unbeatable. That it would be better not to stop them… Destiny…” he coughed and lost consciousness.
“So did Benedict Arnold, ass hole.” Taylor grimaced and sat up straight. Blood had soaked through his shirt down to his waist.
“Oh God, Tim!” Donna choked, kneeling at his side and helplessly trying to staunch the flow of blood.
Taylor didn’t need to see Donna’s horrified face to know he was badly wounded. “You gave me a chance to love again Donna,” he coughed, a small dribble of blood ran down the side of his mouth.
Several ultralights whiz overhead. Colonel Chu barked orders and two commandos ran up, grabbed a still balled-up Fu, and dragged him to the nearest motorized hang glider. They began strapping him in to the back seat.
“Ms. Klein, Ms Klein!” Chu addressed Donna in Mandarin, “I believe you will want to fly with me.” It wasn’t a question.
Donna ignored the commando and stayed at Taylor’s side.
Taylor looked up at the officer. He saw the look of urgent professionalism on the man’s face. “Donna, you have to go… No time. Leave now!” He grabbed Donna’s hand then let go, removing his Academy ring, then his wedding band. Both came easily off his blood-soaked fingers. “I want you to have these! Give the Academy ring to my son.” He dropped the rings into Donna’s fingers then shut her hand around them. “Keep the other ring…”
“Ms. Klein, we must go now!” Chu clamped his hand around Donna’s wrist and wrenched her painfully away from Taylor’s side.
“No!” She moaned, tears streaming from her face, “No! No! No!”
“Donna!” Taylor spat blood, “You have to go. I love you!”
Chu hustled Donna to his ultralight. She cried over her shoulder, “I love you Tim!”
Taylor heard the stairwell begin reverberating with the sound of a hundred boots.
Donna looked back to General Taylor as Chu was strapping her into the ultralight. A commando was helping Taylor get to his feet when one of his colleagues rushed by and tossed two grenades down the stairwell. Two dull thuds echoed out but the sound of boots came on. Taylor yelled, “I’m not flight worthy. Tell your friend to have his men take me next to the door and leave me with a few grenades.”