The last two men off the shore were the two officers. The boat was so close to China that they tossed their weapons onboard and didn't have to swim.
"The control panel got shot up, L-T," Ronson said. "Twisted a few wires back together and she's good as new. Almost."
Dewitt checked the oncoming Chinese patrol boat. "She's about two hundred yards off and throttled down," he said. "I'd say her crew is looking us over. Hope they don't have night-vision goggles."
Murdock looked at the other boat, then at Ronson. "Ease her along the shore seaward. We'll see what our buddies over there do."
The craft turned and edged along the shore for twenty meters. Then the Chinese crew snapped on a searchlight and swept over Murdock's navy.
He had positioned four of the.50-caliber Mcmillans along the starboard side facing the other boat. The gunners had instructions to open fire if the enemy searchlight came on. The first booming shot from the heavy sniper rifles smashed the searchlight, and three more rounds slammed into the pilothouse. A small-caliber machine gun opened up aft on the other boat, but he didn't have the range.
Three CAR-15s splattered bursts of.223 lead into the aft section and the pilothouse, and the Chinese gunned their motor and pulled back another hundred yards. They returned some rifle fire, but evidently didn't have a bow.50-caliber weapon.
"Gun it," Murdock said, and Ronson shoved the throttles forward and the little boat jolted ahead toward the bay's mouth. Now the other Chinese boat turned and followed, with half-a-dozen guns slamming hot lead at the SEALS' ticket home.
The men with the Mcmillan fifties moved aft and kept up their fire. It was less effective now, but held the Chinese well off.
Gradually Murdock's crew pulled farther away from the trailer, and Murdock stared from inside the pilothouse at the bay mouth now less than two hundred yards ahead.
Jaybird was at Murdock's elbow. "So, say we make it out of the bay, what the hell then? They must have been alerted about us by now. They should have something in the air soon. I hear the Chinese have a good attack chopper."
"I don't know about their choppers, but they do have a good little jet fighter with rockets. I'm not sure it has night-attack capability. We just play it by ear out here. We're not into the open sea yet."
As if to punctuate the statement, a burst of machine-gun rounds from the chasing patrol boat slammed into the pilothouse and sent chips of wood and glass flying. Murdock felt a sting on his cheek, and found blood on his hand when he investigated. The three men in there ducked, but Ronson kept the boat on full throttle charging toward the bay mouth.
Murdock crawled from the pilothouse and moved two more fifties to the back.
"Get rid of some of your ammo," he told them. "See if you can cripple that hound dog on our trail."
The firing picked up from the heavy weapons, and fire from the other boat trailed off. Then they were at the swells of the East China Sea as the little craft slipped out the bay entrance.
"They must have some cutters or destroyers in Foochow," Jaybird said.
"Probably. Due east, Ronson. We need at least a mile offshore before we blow up this baby."
Murdock called for Doc Ellsworth, who came up shaking his head. "Ain't good, Skipper. Lost so damn much blood. If we have to go into the water, he won't make it. Plasma won't do no good now."
Murdock nodded. Behind them the patrol boat had given up the chase. It sat just outside the bay for a couple of minutes, then sailed north toward Foochow.
That was when Murdock and the other men heard the heavy growl of a larger, high-speed ship. The sound came from the north.
"Called off the puppy and sent out a real fighting dog," Magic Brown said. "This mutt won't be scared off by our fifties."
"Frazier," Murdock called. "Rig two charges below with ten-minute timers, but don't set the timers yet. We're gonna get wet. Get your masks and flippers on, the SEALS are going back to mother."
Doc Ellsworth came over to Murdock. "You better come take a look at Johnson. He's getting worse. He can talk, but that's about all."
Murdock knelt on the aft deck where Johnson lay. Even in the faint night light he looked pale.
"Hang in there, buddy. We're out and away and should find that sub soon."
"Can't do it, Skipper. Been a good cruise with you. Take care of the guys."
A flash of pain jolted Johnson, and he lifted his head off the deck, then let it down. "Oh, damn, but that hurts. Why does it hurt so bad, Doc?"
"Don't know, Johnson. I'll give you another shot of morphine. That will make it stop hurting."
"Save it, Doc. You might need it. This is my last mission. Sorry I got in the wrong place."
"Johnson, we'll get you through," Murdock said. "Just hang in there."
Johnson closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and died.
"He's gone, sir."
"Yeah, good man. Goddammit!"
"We taking him back with us, L-T?"
"Absolutely. Your job, Doc. Use a buddy line around his chest. We're going in the water but we won't be moving fast." Doc nodded and left.
"Ronson, aim this thing southeast and tie down the wheel. When that motherfucker out there gets within three hundred yards, we all go over the side. Then you give her full throttle and get wet yourself."
"Roger that, Lieutenant."
The SEALS got ready to go back to the safety of the water. Whenever things get too hot or they need cover and protection, SEALS always go into the water. It's their second home. They're at ease there, comfortable, in familiar territory. This time all they had were their fins and masks. No scuba, no Draeger LAR-V rebreathing gear. Just them and the East China Sea.
Murdock checked on Doc. He had Johnson zipped up in a thin plastic sea-green body bag. Doc tied a buddy line around the bag at Johnson's chest.
"Never done this before, Skipper. Hope to hell I never have to do it again."
"We won't leave him behind, Doc. We'll pace ourselves to your speed. We'll be more than a mile off when we hit the water."
Doc nodded, and the platoon leader checked his other men. He found nobody else wounded except for some scrapes and tears and two of them dinged with scratches from flying glass.
The growl of the attack craft came closer now. They couldn't see it through the darkness, but it evidently had them on radar and had zeroed in on their course.
"Dump your weapons and extra ammo," Murdock told them. "Won't do us a damn bit of good against this mad dog coming. We're on swim-and-fin time. Evade and escape. Magic, I want you to stay with Doc and help out with Johnson.
"Holt, get aft and dangle one of those sonar beepers in the wet. Maybe our sub friend is nearby somewhere. He damn well better be."
Murdock could see a searchlight now from the cutter.
"Southwest, Ronson, tie her down."
Two minutes later they could see the hulk of the Chinese raider bearing down on them. She was bigger than Murdock had suspected.
"Let's go for a swim, men," Murdock said. "Doc and Johnson first. Set the timer on those charges. Let's get the hell out of Dodge."
The SEALS went over the side and grouped quickly. Ronson was next to last off and Frazier, who set the timers on the charge of C-4, was the last one out.
They watched the patrol boat steam away from them, and saw the dark shadow of the Chinese warship veer away from them as it followed the boat.
Five minutes after they went into the water they had joined up, established their buddy lines, and were set to move.
"We stay on the surface unless that ship comes back looking for us and gets too close," Murdock said. "We'll move east away from the mainland. That sub commander will thank us for every quarter of a mile we get away from Mother China back there."