Lu could see a fire in the tree line at the edge of the small open field, but no sign of helicopters. Flying at night by searchlight was a risky proposition at best. The pilot was afraid to move too far away from the navigational security of the pipeline or the river.
Lu cursed. If only he had been quicker in reacting to the lost pressure on the pipeline. He'd never thought it could actually be a terrorist action. Now he knew that it was too late to catch whoever had done it. And too late for him. He picked up the radio microphone and called headquarters.
Riley was still a little surprised. He'd mentally prepared himself for the exfiltration to be screwed up. But things had worked out. They were actually on board a helicopter and heading for home. The target hit had been a success. Team 3 had two injured, but both would recover. He knew it was premature, but Riley began to allow himself to feel good.
In the front of the helicopter, C.J. had opposite feelings. He started sensing a slightly abnormal vibration in the controls. Yost felt it, too. They exchanged worried looks.
Don't do this to me, C.J. thought savagely. We finally won one. Come on baby, hang in there. If there was a way to will a helicopter to stay in the air, C.J. was going to do it.
The seam on number 4 external tank also reacted to the strange vibration. Instead of just a drip, a trickle of highly flammable fuel was now leaking out.
Once the division commander, General Haotian, was awakened, the Chinese reaction speeded up dramatically. It had been almost three hours since the explosion. In that time only one MI-4 helicopter and the pump station platoon had been dispatched to investigate.
With Lu's report of apparent sabotage, General Haotian contacted the 3d Aviation Regiment in Shenyang and asked for help. In response to the request, six Z-9 gunship helicopters lifted out of Shenyang and headed north. Haotian realized, based on Lu's report and the distances involved, that they were probably too late, but he wanted nothing left to chance. When he had to explain to his superior, he wanted to be able to say he had done everything possible.
If only that idiot Lu had moved quicker, Haotian thought. By now, the terrorists were probably out of the area he controlled with his division. Haotian reluctantly called his higher headquarters — Shenyang Military
Region headquarters located in the city of Shenyang to the southwest. They'd find out what was happening anyway when the 3d Aviation Regiment reported its search mission.
The vibration hadn't gotten any worse. It was so slight that C.J. could almost fool himself into believing it wasn't there. But he knew it was. Hang in there, C.J. prayed. Another hour and a half to the coast.
In the trailing helicopter, Devito had whole blood flowing into O'Shaugnesy. The sense of security inside the aircraft was comforting. The high of the target hit and exfiltration was wearing off, and everyone slumped wearily against the back and doors of the cargo compartments.
In the lead aircraft, Riley sat with his back against the pilot's seat, surveying the five other members of his team. Comsky, as expected, appeared to be sleeping, although Riley suspected it might be an act. Mitchell was sitting with his back against the copilot's seat with his eyes closed. Probably thinking about the FOB debrief. Olinski, Chong, and Hoffman were peering out the windows at the terrain flashing by.
They ought to market this as a ride at an amusement park, Riley thought as he glanced out the side window. They were flying barely twenty feet above the surface of a large lake. Riley had flown in numerous helicopters and he felt a grudging admiration for the man flying this one. The pilot was good, whoever he was. Occasionally, as they turned to follow the bend of the lake, Riley could catch glimpses of the second aircraft following a hundred meters behind.
Riley felt good. All in all, a successful mission. What had happened with O'Shaugnesy was unfortunate, but you couldn't plan for everything on a mission.
Riley wasn't sure what they had accomplished by blowing up the pipe. Sent a message to the Chinese government that the U.S. meant business, Riley supposed, but the whole thing still didn't make sense. Sometimes the way countries interacted seemed like such a game. Like two kids in the alley, shoving each other back and forth, trying to see who was the toughest. Riley closed his eyes. Now wasn't the time to ask those questions. Now was the time to be happy to be alive. To be going home.
The six Z-9s flew over the destroyed pipe, then broke into two sets of three. The first set spread and flew due east. The second set fanned out and flew to the south. They could fly those azimuths for only another twenty minutes before they would have to return to Shenyang to refuel. The spiderweb had been spun too late. The fly was gone.
C.J. carefully climbed the helicopter farther up the streambed into the Changbai Mountains. He could see the ridgeline just ahead. In a few minutes they'd be across it and heading down. Just another fifty minutes and they'd be over the ocean. The Blackhawk was still holding together. Just another hour and thirty-five minutes and they'd be at the Rathburne.
C.J. was startled by a blazing flash of light to his right.
C.J.'s helicopter exploded right in front of Hawkins. Before his goggles shut down, Hawkins thought he saw the entire aircraft disintegrate. In the two seconds it took his goggles to recover, he was past the explosion. There was no sign of the other aircraft.
In the cargo compartment, Trapp leapt to the door and peered out the window into the darkness below. A ball of fire settled into the trees as they flew by. It looked like part of a helicopter.
"Goddamn, Goddamn," Trapp muttered in shock. "We were almost there. We almost had it made." He didn't know what had caused the helicopter to explode, but the effect had obviously been catastrophic. He looked at the others' shocked faces.
As his goggles cleared and he could see again, Hawkins swung around and headed back to where C.J.'s bird had disappeared. Cruising just above the trees, he couldn't see the other helicopter. There was a fire burning in the trees below but nothing else. Considering the amount of fuel the aircraft had been carrying, Hawkins knew that was understandable. There was also no place nearby to land.
Looking at his fuel gauge, Hawkins turned and started heading east again. He climbed and crossed the crest of the Changbai Mountains. Those on board the lone helicopter could see the first gray light of dawn tingeing the ocean off in the distance.
13
Secret operations are essential in war;
upon them the army relies to make its every move."
Commander Lemester watched the lone Blackhawk waver above the fantail of his ship and then slam down on it.
Son of a bitch almost crashed into my ship, he thought angrily as he strode forward to confront the pilot. He stopped in amazement as the cargo doors slid open and five dirty men, dressed in black and carrying weapons, hopped off. Four of them reached back in and started pulling out a man wrapped in a poncho. The fifth man ran over to Lemester.
"We need a stretcher up here right now to take this man to your infirmary."