know what they’re saying.”
Li Kuonyi was mocking: “There are many things you don’t know, Feng.”
A man’s voice sounded nervously from next to her: “You should’ve kept the manifest when you had it, Feng. None of this would’ve happened. No one would’ve been hurt.”
“Ah? A pleasure to hear you again, boss. Foolish of me to believe you’d kill yourself, even for the future of your family. But, then, your salvation was Madame Li’s doing, wasn’t it? My mistake. I knew who the man was in your house long ago.” Li Kuonyi said, “You always did talk too much, Feng. Since you say you want the manifest very much still, we might be interested in the money in your possession.”
“All business as usual, Madame? The same arrangement as before, I trust.
Mcdermid’s two million in exchange for the manifest.”
“Of course.”
“Then we have a deal. Does the woman do all your talking now, boss? Ah, well, we can’t all be men.”
There was a scramble of movement in the smaller rock formation. Yu Yongfu stood up, red-faced, pushing away Li’s restraining hands. “I am as much?”
The savage explosion of bullets ripped down from Yu’s throat to his crotch. Blood sprayed black into the night. A furious return fusillade from the nearby grove nearly drowned out Li Kuonyi’s agonized scream.
In the silence, came a single word: “So.” Apparently untouched by the shooting from the grove, Feng paused, all banter gone from his voice as he continued, “Now you know my deal. Think hard, Li. Your friend’s pistol will run out of ammunition long before I do. There’s no two million dollars for you. I offer you your life. Throw out the case with the manifest, and you live.” Jon whispered fiercely, “Keep me covered. Don’t open up until you hear my voice or hear me shooting, unless you absolutely must.”
“What are you planning, Jon?” Asgar demanded.
“I’ll circle behind those rocks, climb over, and take Feng from the rear.”
“We could attack. There’s nearly twenty of us left.”
“It’d still be hard to dig a man with an assault rifle and plenty of ammo out of those rocks. We don’t know what other weapons he might have there, too. Maybe he’s got men as well. We could send Li into a panic if she thinks she’s got even more enemies, and the manifest could be destroyed. It’s too big a gamble.”
Before Asgar could protest again, Jon had slung his MP5K over his shoulder and disappeared back through the trees. As he circled, he had more than one reason for making the attempt to stop Feng Dun. To fire the angry fusillade at Feng, the shooter in the grove had come out from behind a tree, and he had seen her face. Randi Russell.
He had no idea how she had gotten here, but Feng was right. She would run out of ammunition before he did. And if the Uighers attacked, she could be caught in the crossfire.
Admiral Brose’s voice was steady over the bridge loudspeaker: “Give me the Empress’s position as of this minute, Commander.”
From where he stood on the dark bridge, Jim Chervenko could see the lighted bulk of the Empress sailing two miles off the Crowe’s port bow.
Appearing to move at her full speed, she was continuing on her steady course across the moonlit sea for the Strait of Hormuz, the Persian Gulf beyond, and Basra, Iraq. He nodded to Frank Bienas, who took the fix from the navigator and relayed it to the admiral.
“By our calculation, you have less than ninety minutes before she enters the strait,” the admiral said after a moment.
“That’s how we calculate it, too, sir,” Chervenko said.
“You’ve moved into position?”
“She’s two miles off our port bow.”
“The submarine?”
“Run her torpedoes in, and moved up with us. They have the Empress off their starboard, but they’re submerged half a mile closer, cruising behind her where they have a clear fix on us, too.”
“Your Seahawks are armed for antisubmarine and ready to launch?”
“Yessir.”
The admiral maintained his calm voice, but the series of questions he would never have normally asked a raw lieutenant in his first command, much less a decorated commander with years at sea, betrayed his nerves.
Brose seemed to read his thoughts. “Forgive me, Commander, it’s a nasty situation.”
“None nastier, sir.”
“The battle plan?”
“Move to stop the Empress. Send off the boarding detail. Keep the freighter between us and the sub, which will force her to come to our side where the choppers can get a clear shot. Otherwise, we play it as it lays.”
“All right, Commander.” A slight hesitation. “You’ll have the order to board within the hour. The Shilo should be there in three hours, give or take. I’ll try to give you air cover at the last minute, but the timing is difficult. Hold out as long as you can.” A hesitation again, as if reluctant to end the connection. Finally, a hearty, “Good luck.” The admiral was gone.
Commander Chervenko looked once at the clock above his command post, then again focused his night glasses on The Dowager Empress, plowing ahead through the bright moonlight and across the calm sea. Inside his grim mind, he was counting down.
Chapter Forty-Three
The night felt heavy around Jon, oppressive. He crept among the shadowy boulders of the giant rock formation, inching higher and higher. His special canvas shoes gripped the stony surfaces, while his night-vision goggles enabled him to follow crevices, rain channels, and ledges.
Sometimes he had no choice but to jump and scramble up the face of a boulder. Other times, a scrub tree allowed him to pull himself straight up.
“Time is wasting, Li,” Feng Dun said, his cool voice so close Jon expected to see him any second. “Your husband’s dead. Your bodyguards are dead. You’ve obviously run out of ammo. Your friend out there somewhere among the trees is alone and will run out of ammo soon, too, and then there’ll be no one to stop me. This is your chance. Toss out the attache case, and I’ll walk away.”
From her hiding spot, Li Kuonyi laughed bitterly. “And where would I go?
Without a great deal of money, how would I get myself and my children out of China? I might as well burn the manifest myself. I will, if you don’t leave.”
As her bitter voice talked, drawing Feng’s attention, Jon crawled faster up the rocks until he was sure he was higher than Feng.
Feng’s laugh was nasty. “Sorry, Madame Li. Only the Americans want the manifest untouched. Please feel free to burn it. If you don’t, I will.
But that won’t save you or help you escape China.” She suddenly understood. “Wei Gaofan, That’s who’s behind this! My father’s benefactor. My husband’s benefactor. He’s the one who must have the document destroyed. He’s the one you really work for!”
“Trusting us is your only chance. Otherwise, you know your fate.” Jon reached the highest rock. He unslung his MP5K, climbed silently over, and found a good position with his back against the top boulder. As a dark wind whistled around his ears, beneath him spread the mesa and Buddha gorge, a panoramic vista of shadows, vegetation, and monumental statues shining in the unearthly glow of moon and stars. Feng Dun was kneeling behind a boulder not twenty feet below. His assault rifle rested on a lip of rock, aimed toward where Li Kuonyi hid. Jon took off his goggles and stared down at the top of Feng’s head. His red-and-white hair seemed especially brilliant in the delicate light, the only spot of color in the black-and-gray rockscape. At the same time, Feng’s head was also a perfect target. With one satisfying bullet, Jon could shatter it like a melon. His trigger finger flexed.
