“Govno.” Volodya said in Russian as the helicopter dashed straight for the control tower.
“Time to go!” McCormick grabbed Volodya and the two jumped off the back of the control tower, catching themselves with the gecko gloves on the far side just as the Chinese helicopter's rotor tore into the top of the tower.
The helicopter flipped as the rotor destroyed itself, tumbling over the tower and crashing into the sea behind the ammunition ship.
For a moment, silence reigned over the Taiwan Strait. Then, over the still night air, I heard McCormick shout from the far side of the ship. “Need a new ride, Fong?”
Douglas laughed as if he had heard the funniest joke of his life. The Unit One commando nearest him hit him in the stomach with a rifle butt, which silenced the middle-aged Scotsman. Dietrich had to stifle a laugh of his own. He whispered to me, “I do appreciate the Knights’ taste for theatrics.”
The Unit One soldiers, most sill prone on the deck of the ship, slowly stood up. One asked a worried question to Captain Fong in Chinese only to be cut off with an angry retort from Fong. His subordinate cowed, Fong looked down to address me.
“I underestimated your little band of terrorists. But, on the positive side, it looks like you and I will have a little time to get to know each other better…”
Chapter 18
We returned below decks and made our way through the bowels of the ship to the control tower. Douglas and Taleb, my litter-bearers, set me down on the deck of the control tower. Unit One soldiers then tied Douglas, Taleb, and Dietrich to railings using plastic ties.
While the Lafayette Initiative prisoners were being secured, Captain Fong walked over to a radio microphone on the bridge and initiated a hushed conversation. I assumed he was contacting Beijing, telling his superiors of the disaster that had befallen the extraction helicopter.
The Unit One soldiers, having suffered fearful losses to the two LI commandos, were in no mood to send out patrols throughout the ship looking for Volodya and McCormick. There were only about eight Unit One commandos left, and they could not afford to lose more people and tilt the odds decisively in favor of the two men hiding somewhere in the ship.
When Fong concluded his conversation over the radio, he stared off into the distance for a moment. Then he conferred with another soldier, evidently his second-in-command.
All the while, McCormick and Volodya, who had escaped to an unknown location in the ship after destroying the helicopter, talked about their next step.
McCormick said, “We've whittled them down to only, what, ten or so soldiers? Let's wipe 'em out and complete the mission.”
“No, Sergeant. The odds are not good. They've locked themselves down in the control tower by now. The entrances and exits will be well-covered by highly-trained soldiers. We don't have any flashbangs, no way to even the odds. Do you think each of us could kill five of them before they get us?”
McCormick replied, “Well, we have to do something. The PLA will be sending reinforcements soon, by boat if necessary. Hell, if I were them, I'd just keep going another hour or two to Taiwan and then they can overwhelm us.”
Volodya said, “Yes, we must make the first move. But what can we… ah… Sergeant, what do you know about ship engines?”
Laughing quietly, McCormick said, “Not much, but I can learn quick.”
Captain Fong concluded the conversation with his underling and looked down at me on the ground. “As I said, Mr. Cortez, we need to talk. If Priest had not taken his own life so quickly, he could have told us what we needed to know. But, with him gone, Beijing is convinced that we need you and your men to share some intelligence with us. Personally, I'd prefer to shoot you all and toss your bodies over the side, but my will has not carried the day with my superiors.”
Douglas laughed cynically and said, “Bloody micro-managers, your bosses.”
Fong nodded without smiling. “Indeed they are, Colonel Douglas. And now they're getting worried that we won't be able to get you all safely to Taiwan. They want me to get the important information out of you now, even if the process might deprive the People's Liberation Army of some useful incidental information we might have gotten if we had months rather than hours to talk.”
A chill intruded on the room, but Fong didn't seem to notice. “I do not relish in my duties, Mr. Cortez. But I know, perhaps better than any other soldier of the People's Liberation Army, what kind of men your Lafayette Initiative employ. Mercenaries, war criminals, profiteers. And I know who you target: women and children.”
“That is a lie and you know it,” I responded.
Fong's nostrils flared. “I will be sure to tell my wife and children that when I return to Quanzhou. I'm sure they know from their time with Sergeant McCormick just what kind of upstanding men you all are.”
Regaining control of his emotion, Fong continued. “The first thing I want to know is how you all got into China. It was not through an airport. If it was by boat, it wasn't one that ever showed up on our off-shore sonar network. If it was by plane, it was not one that ever showed up on our radar screens. And so I ask, how did you all come to the People's Republic of China?”
Douglas said, “Your mother gave us some of your old passports, Captain.”
Fong withdrew his pistol from a waist holster and fired a shot into Douglas's knee. The SAS colonel screamed in pain. He said venomously, “I hope you enjoyed your little joke, Colonel. You will never run again.”
Raising his voice so he could be heard clearly over Douglas's screams, Fong said, "Now, Mr. Chavez, I think I've established the ground rules for what happens when you give a non-responsive answer. I don't want bravado. I don't want denials. I want the truth. Mr. Cortez, how did you and your men enter China?"
I froze, trying to think of a plausible lie.
"Non-responsive."
Fong withdrew his pistol again and shot Douglas's other knee cap. The Scottish man howled in pain.
His face clouded with anger, Fong said, "The Lafayette Initiative reunions in the labor camps will be quite sedentary affairs if you keep this up, Mr. Cortez.”
Suddenly, the room felt abnormally quiet, and even lying on my back, I felt the subtle lurch of deceleration. The background thrum of the engines had ceased.
Fong spoke rapidly to his second-in-command, who moved to the intra-ship phone on the wall and began looking through the paper directory. Douglas struggled to overcome the pain in his legs and shouted raggedly, "McCormick and Volodya have you fucking amateurs dead in the water!"
Without bothering to wait for an order from his superior officer, one of the other Unit One soldiers smashed the butt of his Ak-2000 rifle against one of Douglas's shattered knee caps. Mercifully, Douglas passed out from the pain.
A rage built within me, the likes of which I had never felt before in my life and never felt since. The Unit One soldiers had no mercy, not a shred of humanity for their enemies. They would use the most brutal methods to eke out every last advantage so that their masters in Beijing could stamp out freedom in Taiwan.
The same Unit One soldier took out a canteen and poured a cupful of water onto Douglas's face to revive him. Douglas returned to consciousness with a moan of agony at the ruination of his kneecaps.
The Unit One second-in-command finally found what he was looking for in the paper directory and dialed a number, switching on the speaker so that everyone could hear what was going on. The phone rang a few times, then stopped.