Maintenance Supervisor Tang Chia-jun coughed and squinted through the thinning clouds of smoke rising around the transformer station.
Once he and his men reached the breakers that he assumed were the problem, he took one look at the damage, and his mouth fell open.
Supervisor Tang had been working for the power company for over twenty-two years. He knew his job.
And he knew sabotage when he saw it. That new lock on the gate and the smoke had been the first signs of something much more than a routine repair.
Now his flashlight's beam shot up through the smoke like a laser and caught three gray bricks attached to the main lines. His breath grew shallow.
Just then, Tang's assistant supervisor shouted from the other side of the station.
Tang rushed over and found that the man had removed his hard hat and he, along with three others, stood near a small, robotlike camera humming softly.
Suddenly, the camera turned, jarring all of them. It rolled forward on its treads and seemed to stare at them, its "head" panning right and left.
"What is this?" asked his assistant.
Tang gaped at the thing. "I don't know."
"You don't know?" asked another of the workers. "Is this some new equipment?"
Tang turned back to the bricks on the main lines, then faced the robot.
He began to tremble.
HAKKA CASTLE
XIAMEN, CHINA
APRIL 2012
Roughly three kilometers away, inside one of the north building's stairwells, Beasley frowned at the Chinese power crew in his HUD. Were they about to run off? He wasn't sure, but he needed them gone now. A data bar in the right corner of his HUD displayed a preprogrammed list of commands in Mandarin that he could issue through the SUGV's loudspeaker. He chose the obvious: Go away. Fast!
"Kuai Zou! Kuai Zou! Kuai Zou!"
The men slowly backed off. All right, they were beginning to get the message.
Beasley pressed a button on his wireless controller, and a detonation clock glowed and flashed on his screen: 00:00:20, 00:00:19, 00:00:18 . . .
Not only would the rest of the station blow, but the SUGV was also rigged for detonation with chemical charges that would melt its components beyond recognition.
"Ghost Lead, this is Bravo Lead. Charges at the station have been activated. But I have two men down."
TRANSFORMER STATION
XIAMEN, CHINA
APRIL 2012
Tang's mouth finally worked. "Run now! Run!" He sprinted toward the gate, his men following, screaming their questions as a series of ear-piercing explosions came from behind them.
His heart hammering, his breath all but gone, Tang neared the fence when the concussion lifted him into the air for a moment, then slammed him into the gate.
The rest of his men joined him there, and they all turned back, breathless, staring in awe at the fireballs.
HAKKA CASTLE
XIAMEN, CHINA
APRIL 2012
Diaz ignored the muffled booming from the northeast as she targeted that door Ramirez had indicated.
Three of the four Spring Tigers were already dead. If she could nab this guy, Admiral Cai, designated Target Charlie, the mission was over.
But poor Marcus. Had she killed him? She was too damned scared to ask.
And Beasley wasn't saying a word.
She began to pant and could almost hear the rattle of her nerves as the door swung open, and there he was.
No, that wasn't him. That was his guard. There he was, just behind, turning now to the right.
She gave him just enough lead.
"Yeah, you didn't just miss the bad guy, Alicia. You killed one of your friends!"
Shut up, Tomas!
She took the shot, but the round erupted in the earth at Admiral Cai's feet. She cursed as she threw back the bolt and reloaded, never taking her eye off the admiral.
He dropped and began crawling around the building's edge, out of sight, though the red diamond IDing him glowed over the wall.
A green diamond suddenly floated into view.
"Diaz, Ghost Lead here. Hold your fire! I got him."
Mitchell and Smith had just emerged from the south building and dove forward onto their guts. They had a perfect bead on the admiral, whose guard had dropped in behind him. Mitchell held his breath, about to fire.
But Smith reacted first, cutting loose with his MR-C. The guard and the admiral shook violently as Smith's rounds drummed them into unceremonious death.
"Nice," gasped Mitchell.
Smith groaned and replied, "Thanks."
Mitchell called up Beasley's camera in the HUD, which showed the sergeant dashing across the castle grounds. "Bravo Lead, I need a SITREP."
"I'm here, Captain. Brown's down, but he's alive, unconscious. I'm en route to Hume's position. Not sure about him yet. Bo's got Marcus."
"You need help?"
"I think we're good."
"Roger that. Everybody else? All targets have been terminated. Fall back on the SUVs! Move, move, move!"
"Yeah, that's easy for him to say," griped Jenkins.
Sergeant Marcus Brown was still lying in the staircase. Diaz's round had missed him by a fraction of an inch, but debris from the wall had struck him in the head. That, along with tumbling down a dozen wooden steps, had knocked him out cold.
Jenkins had already checked Brown's pupils to see if they were equal and reactive to light, which they were, and he had already checked Brown's ears for any fluids; they were clear. In a perfect world, they would immobilize Brown's neck and haul him out on a portable litter.
In Jenkins's world, he was charged with carrying his buddy on his back, pack-mule style.
He carefully lifted Brown and started down the stairs, the wood creaking and bending with every step. Between Brown's massive physique and his weaponry, it took a blinding amount of force to bring him down.
Outside, Jenkins sloshed forward as more wind whipped through, carrying a fresh wall of rain. Despite all those hours in the gym, the load was now too much. He collapsed to his knees and lowered his buddy to the ground. "Ghost Lead, Jenkins here. I have Brown, but I need help."
"I'm going down to get them," said Boy Scout over the phone, beginning to gun the SUV's engine as though he were about to drag race.
Buddha bit back a curse. "They're coming up to us. Don't move, you fool! We keep protected. We have the only rides out!"
"If they all die down there, they will not need us. Let's get in there and get them out."
"You heard what I said."
"Sorry, old man. We don't play it safe."
Suddenly, Boy Scout threw his SUV in gear and roared off ahead of Buddha, who wrenched open his door, climbed out, leveled his pistol, and began firing at the kid. The SUV's rear window took several holes, glass splintering, but the vehicle headed up and over the hill, gone.
"What are you doing?" cried the kid. "Stop firing!"
Buddha screamed into the phone, "Get back here! Now!"
"No, you fat cow. You come with me!"
Throwing up his arms and screaming, Buddha returned to his SUV and threw it in gear.
After sending off Smith to check on Beasley and Hume, Mitchell sprinted off to help Jenkins.
As Mitchell headed north, a vehicle--one of those Chinese Brave Warriors--suddenly raced through the central building's main entrance and crossed into the path, heading east out of the castle. Unsure who might be in that truck, Mitchell held fire and called over the radio. "This is Ghost Lead. There's a vehicle heading east! Where the hell did that come from? Who's in it?"