Ching called a greeting to the man as he came up. The cop didn't answer, and tried to look inside the cab in the faint light. Murdock was sure the man could see little. The policeman barked something at Ching in Chinese.
Murdock lifted the MP-5 muzzle until it centered on the policeman's back and eased his finger to the trigger.
33
President Lee Teng-hui put the call on his phone speaker and nodded at his advisors. Not all spoke English, but an interpreter was there to translate as the call proceeded.
"Yes, Mr. President Hawthorne. It is good to speak with you again."
"Mr. President Lee, I'm glad you called back. How is our project going to rescue those thirteen Navy SEALS?"
"We are in a quandary, Mr. President. We have heard rumors about some attacks on the mainland, but we have no proof. You say a number of airplanes and missiles were destroyed."
"Absolutely, Mr. President. I'll fax you satellite photographs we took less than two hours ago that show over forty paratroop aircraft that were totally destroyed and two missile warehouses that were ruined or disabled. You can also see two warships that would deliver the poison gas missiles are sunk in the mud in Amoy harbor."
The interpreter listened and talked at the same time. He hurried to catch up with the English conversation.
Lee hesitated, watching his interpreter. "Yes, Mr. President, I would like to see definite proof. Not that we do not believe you. My cabinet is most strict in matters like this that could open us to furious retaliation by China."
"I figured you might be a little slow to come around," President Hawthorne said. "When you get these pictures I'm sure you'll see that these lads have saved your island from attack, invasion, and a terrible loss of life that would be in the millions."
"We will study the fax material carefully."
"Yes. I've had word just now that the photos have been faxed to you and should be coming off your machine any second now. Isn't this modern-day communication wonderful? Do you have the pictures yet?"
"No. I'll send someone to our communications room to check. My staff and cabinet members are all here. We will confer on the situation and let you know what we decide."
"Can't stress it enough, President Lee. We here in the U.S. would be terribly disappointed if you don't try your damnedest to get our boys out of China over there by Amoy."
"Thank you, President Hawthorne. You will be hearing from us. We understand that time is short. You will hear. Good-bye for now."
Lee broke the connection and stared at his staff and cabinet. The door behind them opened and a man rushed in with six sheets of paper. He laid them out on the President's desk. They were the faxes the U.S. President had sent.
At once the President and his people studied the photos.
"Can these be real photos of China?" the Minister of Foreign Affairs asked.
"Oh, yes, they have the satellites, the capability," the Minister of Defense said. "They would not send fake photos. It's Amoy Bay in this photo, and look at one part of the naval yard area that is totally flattened."
The rest of the men crowded around to study the photos.
President Lee Teng-hui sat back in his chair and watched his advisors. No matter what they said, it was up to him to make the final decisions. He frowned at the photos on his desk and heaved a long sigh.
34
Murdock's finger eased on the trigger as the Chinese cop's tone became less formal. He chatted with Ching for a moment through the open window of the farm truck. Then both men laughed. After a little more talk, the policeman stepped back and waved.
Murdock saw him through the faint light and let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Ching shifted the truck into gear and pulled slowly away from the spot where the cop stood beside the road watching the rig. It took only two or three minutes rolling down the main street of the tiny village before they were through it and back in the countryside. Their travel direction was roughly southeast, heading for the coast.
The road continued flat and straight. Murdock wanted to get back in the front seat, but he made no move. Don't change things when we're winning, he told himself.
Ten minutes and maybe four miles down the road later, Ching yelled that there were lights showing.
"Looks like headlights, L-T," Ching said. "That could mean a roadblock. What the hell are we supposed to do?"
"Cut our lights and keep moving," Murdock said. "Might be another farm truck."
They continued down the road for another quarter of a mile. Then they heard rifle shots ahead and sensed hot lead slugs zinging around them. Nobody was hit.
"That cop must have called ahead," Ching shouted. "Didn't really trust him, but he did let us go. Curfew along here at night, the cop told me. Nobody in a vehicle on the road after dark."
"Stop this thing," Murdock called. "Everyone out and in the ditch on both sides fast."
As the others scattered, he talked to Ching at the driver's-side door. "Keep it running. We'll tie down the steering wheel and put a stick on the accelerator to keep it running and head it straight down the road with the lights on. We hit the ditch and hope that the truck keeps their attention."
It worked to a degree, Murdock thought as he watched the truck roll down the road toward the barricade ahead. The truck stayed on the road for two hundred yards, then angled into the ditch on the left side and stalled. Moments after it stopped, Murdock saw something fired from the roadblock. He guessed it was a rocket-propelled grenade.
The grenade hit the truck and it exploded into a mass of flames as the fuel tank blew. The SEALS had gone to ground in the ditch.
"What now, L-T?" Jaybird asked from where he lay in the weeds watching the truck burn.
"They know where we are by now. We better take out the roadblock and keep moving southeast," Murdock said. "One squad on each side of the road for a small cross fire."
"We can use the fields as cover to get up there," Dewitt said. "I'll take the left and pull my men around the far side. You take the near side and we'll squeeze them."
"Sounds good," Murdock said. "No noise. Let's move."
They were almost opposite where the burning truck still smoldered when Jaybird spotted a four-man detail moving up the road toward the truck. Murdock gave a signal to ignore them, and the SEALS kept working silently forward through the fields toward the roadblock.
The headlights still illuminated the barricade. They could see men now and then in back of the three small utility vehicles that were parked there.
"They ain't expecting us," Jaybird whispered to Murdock, who only nodded. True, they looked like they were on garrison duty or on a night training run. They'd get some first-class instruction in how not to be a soldier tonight.
The First Squad settled into firing positions fifty yards away from the trucks. Murdock looked at his watch and waited. Soon he heard a single click on his radio earpiece. Dewitt and his squad were ready.
Murdock nodded at Jaybird through the Chinese night and sighted in with his AK-47. His first unsilenced round sounded like a cannon shot in the quietness of the countryside. It brought the immediate crashing and belching of twelve other firearms as the rest of the SEALS opened fire on his signal shot. Murdock watched his target jolt backwards from where he had been leaning against the first jeep-like rig.
The AKS and the other long guns blasted again and again. Half the Chinese troops were down and dead on the first volley, and another thirty seconds of gunfire flattened the rest of them. Murdock saw one man limp away into the darkness.