ZEROON EROGER ANGLER XXWEAT HERLOO
KSGOOD GOODLU CKXXDR ATTSXX
The code word they had agreed on with Hossey was there — DRAFTS, which meant that the message was legitimate. Riley handed the message back to Mitchell, who burned it along with the page from his onetime pad.
When O'Shaugnesy handed him the encrypted copy, Olinski broke the message out and scanned it briefly. Nothing new. He burned the message and pad page, then looked over the pickup zone one more time. Mitchell and Riley would know that PZ Drable was adequate since he hadn't called on the FM radio and told them otherwise. At first glance, Olinski had thought the clearing wouldn't be big enough. The small opening was bordered by tall pine trees on all sides. In the field itself, several small trees struggled to grow. After stepping off the area to measure it, Olinski figured he could easily land one helicopter there, if they cleaned up some of the trees and brush. There was no way two could land at the same time — but one at a time would be sufficient. Just after dark tomorrow night, he, Reese, and O'Shaugnesy would clear away the small trees, and they'd be good to go.
Hoffman studied the compound for the hundredth time through his binoculars. Chong was quietly sleeping ten feet behind him, underneath the branches of a dead pine tree.
They had picked a spot to the northeast of the compound, in the wood line. The compound's access road came out of the tree line more than two hundred meters to the southwest. The northeast corner of the fence was about fifty meters away, directly in front of him. Sitting on his ruck, ten feet into the tree line, with the camouflage net in front of him, Hoffman knew that he was virtually invisible from the compound and service road. Also, he had seen something that made him feel less vulnerable. He noted what he called "Chinese mistake number one": The Scoot cameras were all inner directed. The cameras obviously were remotely controlled by someone at pump station 12. They scanned the compound randomly, but had never yet looked outside the fence. The two on the opposite fence corners looked along the fence and inside the compound. The one on the berm looked down the pipe, then turned back into the compound to surveil the pylon and the pipe as it crossed the river.
Another good sign, Chinese mistake number two, was that the compound didn't seem to be mined. Hoffman couldn't guarantee it, but he'd bet on it. The grass was too high inside. Mines would have to be checked and serviced at least every six months, and the grass couldn't have grown that high in that short a time period. Also, more convincingly, there were random vehicle tracks throughout the compound, probably left by maintenance vehicles.
Chong had pulled the first three hours of surveillance; now it was almost the end of Hoffman's three hours. He woke up Chong to replace him. Just as Hoffman lay down to catch some sleep, they both heard a sound they had hoped they wouldn't — the beat of rotor blades.
Hoffman rolled out of his bivy sack and joined Chong. They both spotted the helicopter coming out of the north. From their training they quickly recognized it as an old Russian MI-4 Hound model that the Chinese had redesignated the H-5. Memorized specifications flashed through both soldiers' minds. The Hound had a crew of two and could carry up to fourteen soldiers in its cargo bay. It was an unarmed helicopter used for transport or scouting.
The H-5 was flying about fifty meters above the pipe. As the helicopter drew up to the compound, it flared to a hover and slowly settled down to land inside the fence on the west side of the berm. A Chinese soldier jumped out the door on the left side of the cargo compartment and started walking the inside perimeter of the compound.
"Now we know it isn't mined," Hoffman whispered to Chong as the blades of the H-5 slowed and the noise level dropped. The soldier appeared to be calling to someone on a hand-held radio. He was tapping the strands of the T-sensor fence every ten meters or so, obviously checking its functioning. When the soldier got to the eastern side of the fence it became apparent that something was wrong. He hit the same location several times, each time talking into his radio and apparently getting a negative response. Finally he threw up his hands in disgust and continued on with his inspection.
"Now that's mighty interesting," Hoffman muttered. "Looks like their stuff breaks down as much as ours does. Chinese mistake number three."
When the soldier finished his inspection, he got back into the helicopter, which lifted and flew to the south compound across the river, where the same procedure was followed. Finally the H-5 lifted and headed south.
Riley was shaken awake from his sleep by Mitchell, who was pulling security. "Listen," Mitchell hissed.
They heard the helicopter and tracked it by sound. When they heard it die down to their southeast they knew that the aircraft had landed near the target site.
"There's no way they could have spotted those guys," whispered Riley as he and Mitchell exchanged questioning looks. "It's got to be a normal security flight."
After ten minutes, they heard the whine of the chopper pick up again for a minute, then die down. Ten minutes later they heard it pick up and fly off to the south.
"They must check each compound," Riley deduced. "I wonder what kind of helicopter that was. I hope it wasn't one of their attack helicopters."
"And I hope those guys don't fly at night," Mitchell said. "If there's a helicopter in the air when we do the exfiltration, that could cause some trouble."
They both knew that the big advantage American helicopter aviation held over the Chinese was superiority at night operations. American pilots had been flying for years with night-vision goggles, whereas the Chinese had only very recently introduced night flying and were still inexperienced. They also didn't have night-vision goggles.
Riley settled back in his bivy sack and tried to catch a couple more hours of sleep before it was his turn to pull security.
Chong was just starting his last hour of surveillance when he heard the rumble of a vehicle engine to his left. He peered along the tree line. A small BJ-212 four-by-four utility truck pulled out of the woods, following the service road, and drove up to the locked gate of the compound.
The sound of the engine died, and three men got out. Two, with slung Chinese Type 56 automatic rifles, started walking around the fence in a clockwise direction. The third stood by the jeep and waited.
Chong watched as the soldiers passed only fifty meters in front of him. He could see their faces and the bored expressions. Even the helicopter hadn't made it all seem as real as these Chinese soldiers walking only a short distance away. Somehow, up until now, the mission had still seemed like some sort of sophisticated training exercise. The armed Chinese soldiers brought home the truth of the situation.
Chong's heart stopped when one of the soldiers came to a halt almost directly across from him at the northeast corner of the compound and turned toward the wood line. The other kept going, turning the corner of the fence.
Chong swore that the man was looking straight at him. Every muscle in Chong's body was tensed. He fingered his SAW machine gun with
his right hand and his grip tightened. He figured he could take out the man in front of him and the other going around the compound. Then he and Hoffman would have to shoot the third guy at the jeep before he could call on the radio. Chong shifted his glance and saw the third soldier sitting on the hood of the truck.