"Up to the left," Murdock said. They worked through some trees and light brush to a spot fifty yards above the tunnel. Murdock settled down behind a fallen log. There were trees and brush in front and behind him. There also was a good view of the valley in front of them.
"Good cover and concealment," Jaybird said. "I'll take the first watch. We can get here and back to the tunnel without being seen. Keep your Motorola turned on."
"Right. Come daylight we should be able to see east for four or five miles. Hope to hell we can see the surf out there somewhere."
They both stared through the half-dawn, but could see no more than a quarter of a mile. They spotted their two woodcutters moving back to the tunnel with branches. By the time Murdock got down to the tunnel, the two men had half the brush jammed into the ground and woven together so it would stand up. It was two feet in front of the opening, and tied in with some other trees and brush to look natural from the front.
Murdock nodded. "Yeah, that will do it. Thanks. Inside now and get some shut-eye. No telling when we'll be up and moving again."
"If it's before dark tonight you can count me out," Magic said. "I'll have my butler take care of it for me."
Ronson took a swing at him, missed, and they stepped into the tunnel.
When Murdock got inside, he found Holt near the opening. He had the SATCOM radio set up and held the dish antenna. Murdock waved at him.
"Yeah, Holt. Good idea. Set up that dish outside the hole. We can work behind the screen out there. About time we check in with Don Stroh and see how he's coming along with our Taipei friends."
Three minutes later, he sent an encrypted message by the burst technique so if the Chinese had radio locators, they wouldn't have time to triangulate on their position.
"This is Afterburner calling Stroh land. Anybody home?"
"Afterburner, we're hot and ready. Only thing is, our friends in Taipei aren't exactly welcoming the idea of helping you."
"They know the whole China plan to take over their island?"
"They do, have for two days."
"Talk tough to them, Stroh. You know the territory here. You know how these people think. Find a handle on them and start yanking it around."
"Love to. If you have any suggestions they will be appreciated. We got through to Langley and they have no help. Right now I'm burning up the telephone trying to find somebody in Taipei I can trust. Will let you know when I learn anything."
"We're in a secure area here. Should be good for the next fourteen to fifteen hours of daylight. By then I hope you have some great news for us. Otherwise all we can do is run for the beach and hope to hell we can find it. Murdock, out."
He gave the handset back to Holt. "Keep the receiver turned on. We should have plenty of battery. They might just try to contact us. Camouflage it somehow so it won't show up in the daylight."
Murdock looked around. It was daylight. Only the screen of brush and small trees brought back by his men kept him from being a target for any Chinese soldier looking this way. He stepped through the hole inside and felt a little better.
Lieutenant Dewitt rose up from where he had stretched out on the dry tunnel floor.
"Maybe no news is good news, Skipper. Doc has tended to Fernandez and Frazier. Both are comfortable. Fernandez is the worst hurt. He needs some real medical treatment. If we don't get out of here for two days, he could lose his arm."
"We'll be out of this tunnel and charging for the beach as soon as it gets dark tonight, Lieutenant, I guarantee you that." Murdock hoped that was true. Guarantees were easy to give. He didn't have the least idea how he was going to make good on his promise.
29
Don Stroh had long ago stripped off his tie and discarded his suit coat. He had been talking to CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia. They had exchanged more than a dozen encrypted rapid-burst transmissions via the satellite. He had forgotten what time it was in D.C., but it didn't matter. Nobody slept or ate when a crisis like this was underfoot. His last message came through from the director:
STROH. I WON'T TALK TO THE PRESIDENT ABOUT MAKING AN EXCEPTION TO USE U.S. AIRPOWER TO RESCUE YOUR TEAM INSIDE CHINA. HE MADE THE POINT CLEAR. NO CONFRONTATION WITH CHINA, AND NO USE OF U.S. ARMS AGAINST CHINA'S LAND MASS OR HER PEOPLE FOR ANY REASON WHATSOEVER. THE ANSWER IS NO. YOU MENTIONED THE TAIWANESE AIR FORCE. SUGGEST YOU PURSUE THAT ROUTE. WE KNOW THAT TIME IS ESSENTIAL. TRY TAIPEI WITH YOUR PROPOSAL. AS YOU SAID, IT'S THEIR NECKS WE'RE SAVING. OUT.
Don Stroh read the message again. He'd been staring at it for ten minutes. What the hell. He'd have to call on every favor he ever built up in Taiwan when he was stationed there for three years.
First he used the cellular ability of the electronics on board the carrier and called the top Agency man in Taipei. Tom Morton was not pleased to be roused out of bed before noon. Tom knew about the invasion plans for Taiwan, and had talked with the President of Taiwan, Lee Teng-hui. Both of them were up to date on the invasion plans and the U.S. attempt to thwart them.
"Tom, it's done. The invasion is stopped cold. Now we need some help to get our team out of China."
"How in hell can I help do that?"
"Talk to Lee. We need some Taiwan air support and a chopper pickup for our thirteen SEALS. They've been in freights in there for the last ten hours."
"Whoa. You want Lee to attack Mother China with his jets to save the skin of thirteen men? He'd laugh at you. Thirteen men are nothing. He has millions of men."
"That's your job, Tom. Convince him that these thirteen men have saved his island more than ten million dead and a sure takeover by China. Show him that he would have been dead by now of poison gas if these SEALS hadn't attacked the missile sites, the bombers, the destroyers, even the atomic center up north. He damn well owes these men."
"Oh, damn. I hate it when you get logical and emotional. I'll call and try to get to see him this morning. No promise."
"Too late to do a rescue today. We'll try to get them out to the coast tonight. We'd need his jets for close ground support and maybe some choppers to go in and get the men after dark. We don't know where they'll be by that time. They might even make it to the strait where our people can pick them up. You've got to try."
"I'll try, I'll try."
"So wake up and make some phone calls. It could take a day to set up everything. We only have about fourteen hours."
Don Stroh hung up the phone. He was sweating. He hated it when he did that. He used to sweat every time he did something wrong or made a mistake. Now he sweated when he got excited or emotional about some issue or project. He hated that too.
He sent another message, this one to Langley about his move to get to the Taiwanese Air Force to help. He hoped it worked.
He sent a short-burst message to Murdock telling him what he was working on. No way to know if Murdock got the message or not. He might have left the SATCOM on receive only, maybe not. Murdock had probably turned off the radio. Damn.
"Chief, call me immediately if you get any transmissions from Murdock or from Tom Morton," Stroh told the enlisted man in charge of the radio room.
Stroh waited. It was nearly two hours before Morton called back. Both ends of the conversation were encrypted, then turned back into regular speech.
"You trying to get me killed, Stroh? I brought up the idea of using a pair of jet fighters and a chopper to go in and rescue the guys who saved their whole damn country, and President Lee blew his stack. He said that would be risking war with China. I pointed out that China had already declared war on Taiwan, had actively tried to murder ten million of his people. He threw me out of the place. Had his guards lift me up and carry me out to the fucking street."