Danny didn’t believe them, but at this point that was irrelevant. His main problem was getting the gear out and everyone back to land.
“Guzman, Dalton, get up on the Osprey and get into gear. Everybody else, get the prisoners ready to go back to Malaysia aboard Osprey Two.” Danny noted a few smiles among the Filipinos as they realized they were getting off the ship. “Boston, you take them back. I’ll stay here with the divers and Bulgaria and Grisif to load the equipment. Everyone else goes.”
“What are you going to do if the Chinese attack?” asked Boston.
“Turk sinks ’em and we get the hell out. Same as we would if you were here.”
“But in that case, I’ll miss all the fun.”
“Get going.”
Turk widened the orbit he was taking around the reef, made another check of the Chinese vessels, then refocused on the UAV dogfight.
He wondered if the Sabres would have done better with a lightweight laser. Probably not — it required a longer hold on target to do damage than the cannons they held. Sometimes advances in tech seemed awesome, but in the real world they didn’t fare as well.
In theory, the dogfight should have been over in ninety seconds or less. Two against one was a pilot’s dream, as long as you were in the two part of the equation. But the enemy UAV seemed to know every move they would make in advance.
Which of course it did, since they were all playing by the same playbook. Turk was a little too far away to override their programming, and wouldn’t have tried anyway — once he did so, he’d have had to pay full attention to the battle or risk losing it. And his main focus had to be with Danny and the team below.
Turk checked the UAVs’ fuel. Without the prospect of a refuel, he’d have to call them back in a few minutes.
Suddenly, his long-range scan lit on alert — two Chinese J-15 fighters were coming from the northwest. He clicked the mike button.
“Colonel Freah, we have another wrinkle,” he told Danny.
14
While not entirely unanticipated, the Chinese decision to interfere complicated the situation immensely, and Breanna and Reid had no choice but to alert the President.
She wasn’t thrilled.
Her first question was: Are our people OK?
Assured they were, and that the operation was continuing, her second was more pointed: How the hell did you let that happen?
“It wasn’t up to us, Madam President,” said Reid, who with Breanna had retreated to Breanna’s private office to make the call to the White House. They sat across from each other, Breanna’s desk in the middle; the President was on the speaker-phone, talking from her car as she traveled in the Midwest.
“The Chinese decided to shell the reef and put our people in danger,” continued Reid. “They were warned that it was an investigation.”
“And the Filipinos?” demanded the President.
“All safe and accounted for,” said Breanna.
“You realize they are our allies!”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Did it occur to you that you should check with me to see if they should be attacked?”
“They weren’t attacked,” said Reid.
“Jonathon, I’m surprised at you,” said Mrs. Todd. “The political implications here—”
“I think they would have been even more extreme had you been apprised of the operation ahead of time,” said Reid.
The President didn’t say anything, but Breanna swore she heard the sound of teeth gnashing together.
“I assigned this to Whiplash precisely to avoid complications like this,” Todd finally said.
Breanna watched Reid’s face as he struggled to come up with an appropriate response. Given his long personal relationship with the President, he was always the one to talk to her in situations like this, but it clearly took a little something out of his soul every time he did. Just for a moment, he stopped speaking as a public servant and talked as a friend, and that friend felt as if he’d let another friend down.
“The Chinese unfortunately became far more aggressive than we had hoped,” said Reid. “I believe their presence was noted in the briefing and—”
“Don’t go all CYA with me,” snapped the President. Though extremely measured in her choice of words for the media, she was more than capable of the occasional salty expression, and the abbreviation for Cover your ass was hardly her worst. “What’s the situation now?”
Reid’s pained expression made Breanna jump in. “The Chinese minesweeper is dead in the water,” she told the President.
“They have casualties?”
“We believe so,” said Reid. “We expect the Chinese aircraft carrier task force to respond.”
“The raid was a success,” said Breanna, repeating what they said earlier and trying to elaborate. “We have discovered a technical center used by the conspirators. It’s a submerged cylinder about thirty feet long and filled with high-tech gear.”
“Can it be recovered?” asked the President.
“Not with the forces we have presently employed,” said Reid. “We would need a salvage vessel. But the Chinese are very close. They would undoubtedly get to it first.”
“We can’t give it to them,” said the President. That was one thing about Todd — she could shift gears quickly. “On the other hand, I don’t want to start a war over this — assuming you haven’t already.”
“Yes, Madam President,” said Reid.
“Can this cylinder be destroyed?”
“We believe so,” said Breanna. “We’re trying to salvage some of the gear first.”
“Do so,” said the President. “But avoid further confrontation with the Chinese. And be nice to the Filipinos. Be very nice.”
“Always our intention,” said Reid.
There was a slight pop on the line; the President had hung up.
“Not happy,” said Breanna.
“I didn’t expect her to be,” confessed Reid.
15
Danny had come to the same conclusion before Breanna gave him the orders: the container would have to be blown up in place ASAP.
In the meantime, though, they needed to keep the Chinese fighters from making things more complicated.
“Turk, is there a way to delay the Chinese fighters without shooting them down?” he asked the pilot.
“I’m not sure.”
“Be creative. Try and delay the Chinese without engaging them, if at all possible,” he told Turk. “I need twelve minutes.”
“Easier said than done, Colonel. What if they fire at me?”
“If you are in imminent danger, then take them out. But otherwise—”
“I’ll come up with something.”
Danny switched over to the local circuit. “Guzman, you ready up there?” he asked the Whiplasher, who was dressing in the diving gear on the Osprey.
“Two minutes.”
“We have ten minutes to get what we can and blow the damn thing up,” Danny said. “Let’s move!”
The Osprey with the Filipinos finished loading and pushed up from the boat, circling away from the reef. The breeze on Danny’s wet clothes got his teeth chattering.
With the other Osprey gone, the one with his divers moved closer, descending to a few feet above the water and playing its searchlights across the side of the stricken ship. The rear ramp opened and two figures jumped down into the water.
Danny checked his watch. The Chinese fighters were nine minutes away.