Ralph pointed to another of the shadowy men who had been following in his wake as we talked on the pier. “This is Priest. As you may guess, that is not his real name. The Chinese have taken to executing relatives of captured Taiwanese spies still on the mainland. Fei doesn’t have any relatives in China, but Priest does.”
I nodded hello to Priest, and Ralph continued.
“Priest is going to be your escort while you’re en route to China and join your team once you’re there. Our military higher ups wanted some Taiwanese muscle on the operation to supplement Fei’s… communications skills. They wanted to make sure Taiwanese interests are adequately represented. Don’t worry, Priest will definitely be an asset. He’s a naval commando, trained with the U.S. SEALs, and he’s worked in China, both before the war and during it.”
I wasn't particularly excited about having someone on the team who would not be directly under my command, but it seemed a little late to argue. “I guess I’ll need all the help I can get.”
Ralph looked human for a moment. “That’s all I’ve got for you, buddy.”
A sudden empty feeling gripped my stomach, the sort that comes over you when you’re about to embark on a long adventure with little idea how it will all end. Fear.
Ralph held out his hand. “You know what I think about what you’re doing. It’s not just charity, Ding. We’ve got something special in Taiwan that’s worth protecting. If you and the U.S. help keep us alive, you’ll see it spread and pollinate the world.”
I took his hand and shook it. “I hope I’ll live to see it with you when this is all over.”
With that, Ralph walked away into the rain, carrying an umbrella with him to a waiting car that would drive him back to the Taiwanese consulate in Darwin.
For a moment, I stared off after Ralph’s car. Finally, Priest said, “It’s time to board now, sir.”
“Alright then.”
We walked a short way to the gangplank and stepped off Australian soil, bound for the war.
Chapter 5
On the ship, I realized I had no idea where I was going. I looked to Priest. “Why don’t we check out the bridge, sir? I think you’re going to want to see the departure.”
“Good idea.”
The bridge, it turned out, was at the top of a rather tall forecastle. As Priest and I walked past the ten-meter-high piles of containers, I wondered how much materiel was in this boat. A hundred tons? Probably enough to supply a division of ground soldiers for a week.
We climbed up to the bridge, where a short, pot-bellied Taiwanese man was speaking to crewmen in Mandarin. The engines rumbled to life beneath our feet, and a crane aft was already loading the final container onto the ship.
As soon as there was a momentary break in the chain of commands issuing from his mouth, the rotund man turned to face Priest and me. “You’re our guests, then, aren’t you? I’m Captain Chan.”
I hesitated, not knowing whether I should tell him my name. He laughed. “You can tell me who you are. I already know much bigger secrets, and so will you in a couple hours.”
That sounded reasonable. “Ding Cortez. This is my… assistant, Priest.”
“Some Priest. You look like you’ve been praying a lot in this war already, eh?”
Priest said woodenly, “I saw some action in the fighting near Tongxiao.”
The captain nodded. “You’re going to see some more fighting, I suspect. Now, I’ve got some things to do. You two can stay here if you promise to keep quiet and not bother anyone.”
“Alright,” I agreed.
We stood in the corner watching the captain issue orders to various crew members. Ten minutes after the final container was lashed down on the deck, crewmen slipped the mooring lines and the ship pushed forward, accelerating to ten knots to clear Darwin Harbor. The thunderstorm continued to beat down, turning the sea into a choppy mess.
I briefly wondered if any of the men were prone to seasickness and how unpleasant their container must already be.
That only reminded me how little I really knew about the men. With Priest and Fei, I was now heading into war with Colonel Douglas and eight strangers. A band of brothers, it was not. In my mind, I had always pictured the Knights of Taiwan as a corps where each man knew all of his comrades and every death was a tragedy. Not so here.
It was perhaps fitting that my men were packed away in a shipping container, I thought. Shipping containers were the ultimate commodity, designed to serve a specific purpose. My men were mercenaries, warriors who had signed on the dotted line for their own reasons. I barely knew, let alone understood, their motivations.
And they in turn knew nothing of me beyond what they could read in a few Fortune magazine articles and whatever Douglas had told them. They didn't know about the nights when I had drunk myself to sleep so that I wouldn't stay up worrying about how I would get funding for Merlin Printing, or how I would meet a prototype deadline, or how I would prevent my prized engineers from leaving for greener pastures.
I told myself not to worry about the men. They were professionals, experts in the application of violence. I was a CEO. I knew how to organize experts and produce real world results. I had been doing it for twenty years. I was ready for the ultimate test.
After twenty minutes, we had accelerated to nineteen knots and the gray skies of the storm had rendered Australia invisible. We were out on the open sea.
“Let’s go down to the cabin,” I said to Priest.
“Stay a little longer, sir,” he advised. “I promise it will be worth your time.”
Five minutes later, I was about to demand a better explanation from Priest when a crew member with a radio headset called out a message in terse, professional Mandarin. Priest translated for me: “Captain, Command reports a PRC Xia-class submarine thirty-five miles to the north east, closing fast.”
The captain nodded. “Just outside torpedo range. Well, let’s do our bit for Taiwan, eh?”
Priest whispered, “We don’t let the Chinese submarine know that we know he’s out there. We just keep plodding ahead toward him like we don’t have a care in the world, sir.”
I asked, “You knew he’d be there?”
Priest replied, “I had a strong suspicion, sir. The Chinese know our resupply ships come from Darwin, so they try to infiltrate submarines as close as possible to the harbor.”
“And how does Command know that there’s a submarine out there? I didn't see any sonar displays on the bridge of the ship.”
Priest said, “The Chinese have focused most of their detection efforts right near the exit of Darwin harbor. We have a tremendous amount of anti-submarine capability focused on this area. The Australians are even helping us out on the sly, flying detection missions and passing along whatever contacts they find to our navy.”
“And what are we going to do about the sub?”
“You’ll see.” Priest smiled. “I didn’t bring you up here for nothing.”
The captain and crew on the bridge waited in silence for twenty minutes as the freighter plowed on, closing on the submarine. Every so often, a peal of thunder would make everyone jump, exacerbating the tension that rose with each second the Chinese vessel drew nearer.
A technician called out excitedly in Mandarin, and Priest again translated. “Launch! Launch! Command reports that the Xia-class submarine just launched two torpedoes, both heading our way at 60 knots.”
The captain smiled, looked at me and said, “We’ve got the bastard now.” He tapped his ear. “Listen for what comes next.”
If ears could strain, mine did so to take in whatever the captain was talking about. A minute passed, then another.