undergrowth.
The SEALs froze and the guard kept walking, straight at Rusty, who flattened himself into the ground facedown. The other two were four feet on either side of him, and there was no escape. They could not run, they could not slink back into the woods because they would be seen, and they certainly could not shoot him. The noise, would cause an uproar. Even stunning him or throttling him was no good because he would be missed.
“Holy shit!” whispered Rusty. “He’s gonna walk right over us.” And he was perfectly correct. The guard, ready now to take aim into the bushes, actually stood on Rusty’s right leg. He probably thought it was a body, but Rusty did not move. The guard turned, startled, as if to call out, but he never made it. Rattlesnake was on him, cleaving a four-inch slit right across his throat, severing his windpipe, his jugular and his vocal cords with one devastating movement. The guard was dying before he hit the ground, but the one thing he could not do was call out. And now the SEALs had a major problem.
Lt. Commander Bennett instantly took over. “Quick, one of you on each arm and drag him back into the woods. And for Christ’s sake don’t get covered in blood…steady, guys…keep going…get him well clear…”
Forty yards later they stopped. “Hold it,” said Rusty. “Look, the biggest danger right now is that trail of blood…we have to get rid of it. Buster, get back up the hill and come back with a machete, pruning shears and the two trenching shovels, and one of those rubberized ground sheets.”
“Aye, sir.”
It took him nine minutes and he slipped back through the trees so silently that no one picked him up until he was back, standing next to Rattlesnake. “Jesus, Buster. Where the hell did you come from?”
“Just practicing.”
“Okay, guys…we can’t clean, this scrubland like a carpet, so we’ll obscure the blood instead. Cut some of that palm tree stuff with the shears and we’ll put it all over the grassy area where it happened. Right here it’s not so bad, just earth. They won’t know what’s happened to him and I doubt they’ll search before the morning. Meanwhile we’ll drag him down toward the beach and bury him deep. When we get there we’ll get his boots off and his cap and rifle and place it somewhere where it’ll be found…with a bit of luck they’ll just think he went for a swim and drowned, or deserted.”
What had seemed like a quiet night had turned into a very dangerous situation, and they were all tired when they finished digging the grave and then walked the six miles back to the original rendezvous point. But it was midnight now and the eight SEALs had to go. They handed over the computer with its notes and diagrams to Lt. Commander Davidson, and told the holding team that with any luck they’d be back around 2300 at the assault beach as planned.
Commander Davidson and his men had had a dull watch, never seeing anyone, but they did spot the patrol boat about a mile offshore around 2100. According to the combined data on the satellite and their laptop, it was due to go out again at 0100 until 0500. This was a good moment to set up the satellite dish and send the report back to Colonel Hart.
Olaf and Catfish walked down to the water with Rusty and his men as soon as they had changed into their wet suits. They carried big palm fronds to cover up the footprints in the sand, and they shook hands on the dark soundless beach. It was still raining slightly as they moved into the water, carrying the attack boards, breathing through the Draegers, and there was still no sound as they glided into deeper water heading out to the ASDV that awaited them, issuing its friendly little sonar bleep every 30 seconds.
Admiral Zhang was thoughtful. He and Admiral Zu were looking at the daily report from Commander Li. It was mostly routine, mentioning any critical information they had been able to glean from the prisoners, and data on the general running of a temporary military facility. Costs, requirements, arrivals, and departures.
However, at the bottom of the report, which came in on the fax at 0900, there was a final paragraph which ought not, really, to have exercised anyone unduly. It stated, “One of the Navy guards at the dormitory has gone missing. He did not report for duty at 0200, and his bed had not been slept in. At first light we conducted a thorough search, and unhappily discovered his boots, socks, trousers, cap and rifle on the beach. However, there was no sign of him, and we have therefore concluded he went for a swim, late at night because of the heat, and either drowned, or deserted. We have alerted police at Shangchuan Dao to watch for a body along the western shore of the island, since that is where the tide would undoubtedly carry him.”
Admiral Zu had read the entire report carefully, especially making notes regarding costs and requirements. Only as an afterthought did he remark, “They lost a guard last night. Apparently drowned or deserted. Found his clothes on the beach.”
Admiral Zhang held out his hand. “May I see?”
“Of course, last paragraph.”
“Hmmm. That’s rather worrying. Because the man could have been an American agent, working against us. Somehow getting information on the prisoners back to the CIA.”
“Ah, Yushu…you are seeing too many Americans.”
“Am I?”
“Well, a few days ago you did decide to rebuild an entire jail at Chongqing, just in case the U.S. elected to storm the island of Xiachuan and release their men.”
“Yes, I did,” said the C-in-C. “And I have proceeded on that basis. The Americans will stop at nothing…we both know that, to our cost.”
“I realize that, Yushu. But I have tried to reason it all out on the basis of military probability. Ask yourself, how many people do you think it would take to overpower our forces? And how on earth would they get here? And how would they ever know the crew of
“And you could add, and how would they get everyone away? They’d need a major warship, and the water is too shallow, and anyway we’d know it was trying to come inshore hours and hours before it got here. In my opinion you are staring at a military impossibility. And Yushu, as always, you are staring very hard.”
“It’s my job to stare very hard, Jicai. That’s my mission on behalf of the Chinese people. And this drowned naval guard, I don’t much like it…allow me to look at that last paragraph once more, please…”
Zu Jicai handed over the fax once more, and again the C-in-C read it through, pacing the floor, a deep frown on his wide, stern face.
“First of all, I would like you to get a full report on the drowned man; his home, his family, his background, his length of service…just to see if there is one tiny shred of evidence that he could have had contact with Americans.”
“Very well. I think most of the guards are attached to the Southern Fleet, which means his complete record will be here at Zhanjiang. If that is so, we will have it in fifteen minutes.”
Admiral Zu summoned an assistant, gave him the fax and instructed, “Call Xiachuan and get the name of the man mentioned in the last paragraph, then pull up his record.”
The two admirals sipped some more tea and waited. Twelve minutes later the missing guard’s record came in. Admiral Zu scanned it, mentioning information as he read. “Well, he’s twenty-eight, married, with a young son. They live in Guangzhou…next of kin listed as his wife…parents live in your hometown of Xiamen. He was born and brought up there…served at sea in destroyers…so far as I can see, never been out of Chinese waters.”
“How about his wife?”
“Same. Comes from Xiamen. Not much education. Moved to Guangzhou when he received his last posting. No applications filed for any future career changes…he wouldn’t be a classic CIA spy candidate,” he added, an edge of wryness in his voice.
Admiral Zhang smiled for the first time. “No. I agree there. However, something is worrying me. That report lists his clothes on the beach in some detail, right down to his socks. But it makes no mention of his military jacket or uniform shirt…”
“So?”
“Who goes for a swim in their shirt and jacket, having taken off their boots, socks, trousers and cap?”
“Well, he may not have been wearing his jacket.”
“True. And if that’s the case, it will be in his room.”
