“Soon,” she called. “Also tell him four helicopters are arriving in a few minutes and don’t shoot at them.” Clark keyed her handheld radio and radioed her command post. She quickly explained the situation to the duty officer and told him to check all the guards. She ended, “We’ve got to get the Malaysian Army organized.” She signed off when she heard the helicopters. “I hope they’ve got a clue,” she said in a loud voice, her frustration showing.
“Singapore Army much better, Missy Colonel,” her driver replied.
The urge to strangle him grew stronger. She walked to the edge of the trees but didn’t step into the open. A French-built AeroSpatiale 332 Super Puma with its twin Turbomeca engines crossed overhead and landed in the high grass next to the runway-cum-highway. The subdued Singapore roundel on the side of the fuselage was barely visible against a fresh jungle green camouflage paint job. The four-blade rotor spun down as twenty men jumped out the side doors and moved quickly into the tree line. The last man off was huge and moved with an agility and speed that belied his bulk. He headed straight for her. “Colonel Clark?” he asked. She nodded. “Victor Kamigami, First Special Operations Service.” A second helicopter landed, and more men streamed off as a third came into view.
Just then a shot rang out, and Clark jumped back into the trees. When she looked back, all the men had disappeared and the helicopters taken off. “Get down,” Kamigami ordered.
“It’s okay,” Clark told him. “He hasn’t hit anyone — yet.” An explanation was in order. “We’ve got a sniper who takes an occasional potshot. The MA can’t seem to find him.”
“MA?” Kamigami asked.
“Malaysian Army. They gave up, and we worked a deal with him: he misses us and we leave him alone.”
Kamigami gave her a look she couldn’t read. He spoke into the whisper mike pinned to his shoulder and issued orders. It was a strange mixture of Chinese and English that made absolutely no sense to her. “We’ll take care of it,” he said. “Tell your people we’re here and to stand down while we…uh, renegotiate with your sniper.”
Clark relayed his message to her command post. “Tell the MA we’ve got friendlies on base and to hold their fire.”
“Hell,” the duty officer replied, “they don’t shoot at anything unless they think they can eat it.”
“Problems?” Kamigami asked.
“You wouldn’t believe,” Clark said. “Is it okay for us to move around?” He nodded, and they walked toward the minivan. “Are you familiar with Alpha?” she asked.
“Only what I’ve seen on paper.” Kamigami sat in the backseat as they drove down a taxiway and onto the base proper. He studied the camouflage netting overhead, the reinforced-concrete aircraft bunkers, and the way the buildings were sited to blend in with the terrain and trees. His initial impression after flying over was confirmed — the base was next to impossible to see from the air and impervious to satellite reconnaissance. Only the straight stretch of highway that served as its runway provided any clue as to its location. The more he saw as they toured the base, the more he was impressed. Alpha was a masterpiece. “Very nice,” he allowed. “Israelis?”
“They built it two years ago,” she explained. “Under contract to SEATO. Unfortunately, it’s been neglected since then. We had to chase squatters and pig farmers out of the shelters. Luckily, the MA has managed to keep the locals from stealing—” A burst of submachine-gun fire cut her off. “What the…?”
“Ours,” Kamigami assured her. “Pull up over there.” He pointed to a revetted entrance to a low concrete building.
“That’s the base medical station,” she told him. “It’s locked up — I hope.” Another burst of submachine-gun fire echoed over them. This time much farther away.
Kamigami got out of the minivan as Sun and Tel emerged from the shadows of the entrance. Kamigami introduced them to Clark, and without being asked, Sun briefed them on the situation. More gunfire. Sun stopped and pressed a hand to his ear, covering the earpiece linking him to his radio. “We’re bringing them in now,” he said.
“Them?” Clark asked. Sun nodded as a team of four shooters emerged from the nearby trees. They were carrying a body. Another team was right behind them, but this time they had two very live, and very frightened, prisoners. She listened as Tel interrogated the prisoners in Malay while Kamigami and Sun held back in the revetted entrance. Tel waved an arm in the direction of Kamigami’s dark shadow, and the two men fell to the ground, wailing loudly. Two more teams of shooters drove up in a truck they had commandeered. They unloaded three more bodies and piled their equipment on the ground. Clark circled the four bodies, struck by how young they were. “They’re just boys,” she said.
Sun spoke into his radio as Tel joined her. Tel pointed at one of the men kneeling on the ground. “He says there were six.”
“Then all are accounted for,” Sun said.
“Ma’am,” Tel said, “may we speak in private for a moment?” He played the gentleman and motioned her around the corner of the building.
Clark glanced back over her shoulder as Kamigami stepped out of the shadows. A lightning bolt shot out of her subconscious and jolted every fiber of her being. “You’re going to kill them!”
Tel gently touched her elbow, urging her around the corner and out of sight. “Only one,” he told her, refusing to lie. “The other one will be released.”
“Why?” she asked.
“So he can tell his comrades he met the vampire. They won’t be back.” He tried to make her understand. “It’s much better this way. We won’t have to kill so many.”
“I will not be a part of this,” Clark told him, her anger in full play. She spun around and marched back to Kamigami, determined to do something. But the two prisoners were gone, and only the four bodies remained. “What exactly do you think you’re doing here?” she demanded.
“Doing here?” Kamigami asked. “I thought you’d been briefed.” It was obvious she hadn’t. “We’re here to relocate as many villagers as we can. Before they get butchered.”
Clark stormed back to her van.
“I hope this won’t take too long,” Richard Parrish said as he escorted them into the study. “The president will be here shortly. It may be Saturday, but she has a full schedule. I don’t know how she does it, balancing an election campaign with running a war. It would drive a normal person over the edge.”
“President Turner is far from being a normal person,” Secretary of State Serick conceded.
“We only need fifteen minutes,” Mazie told him as they sat down.
Parrish held the door when the president entered. Mazie and Serick stood. “It looks like a quiet day in the Gulf,” Turner said. “Nothing is moving.” She sat down in her rocker and motioned for them to sit. “But you’re not here to tell me what I already know.”
“No, ma’am,” Serick began. He shot Mazie a cautious glance. He cleared his throat. “Mrs. Hazelton has a most intriguing idea that we might want to pursue.”
The president’s lips crinkled, the beginnings of a smile, at his formality. Then it was gone. “Not the unthinkable I hope?”
Serick breathed deeply. “Not unthinkable, but a new vector, one that we haven’t considered.”
“But one sensitive enough that no one else should know?” Turner asked.
“At this point,” Serick said, “that might be the wisest course.”