“We’re not giving up,” he told her. He made fists. “We’re not.”
She looked at him fearfully. Maybe she thought he was crazy, or was lying. Maybe she knew it was hopeless.
Was it hopeless? If he died, what would happen to the girl? What would happen to the world — the evidence of what had really happened here would be lost forever.
The whole damn world was depending on him — he was a witness.
Josh touched his pocket, making sure the camera was still there.
So was the sat phone.
Josh took the phone out and turned it on. It was still locked.
He dialed the emergency number. The line seemed dead. But he knew it wasn’t — Peter had heard him.
More trucks passed on the road. And something bigger, heavier.
Tanks.
“Where the hell are you, Peter?” said Josh into the handset. “Get us out of here now. I repeat — get us the hell out of here now.
18
The American scientist who had managed to escape the camp had at least one satellite phone and was using it to communicate with the outside world. He had made at least one call on a civilian network even though China had already blocked calls on the network. The intelligence people suspected that he had received calls through a network used by the American military, and were working on detecting and monitoring them.
“We have aircraft operating in this area here,” said Owl Eyes, pointing to the map. “You see his transmission was in this area, not very far from FOB number two. We have two aircraft crisscrossing the area, listening for transmissions. The next time he makes a call, we will be able to pinpoint it.”
“On the military network or civilian?”
The briefer shook his head. “Civilian definitely. Military maybe. There are a number of factors — we may at least be able to find a transmission. Decrypting it — possibly, but there are no guarantees.”
“Good,” said Jing Yo.
Not coincidentally, FOB #2 was the forward operating base where they had met the briefer. It was a former orange grove plowed under for use as a helicopter landing field.
“The electronics aircraft are excellent planes. Canadian Twin Otters.” Owl Eyes continued, telling how the insides had been gutted and then equipped with electronic devices that were at least as good as anything the Americans were fielding. It was undoubtedly an exaggeration, though how much Jing Yo couldn’t tell.
Nor did he really care. He was much more interested in finding a helicopter for his team.
There were plenty outside. The newest ones — Z-10 gunships — were ferocious warplanes but could not carry passengers. For that job they would use Chenyang Stallions, Chinese copies of the Sikorsky S-76. It was a smaller, more maneuverable aircraft than its brother, the more famous S-70 Sikorsky Blackhawk used by America and its NATO allies. The Chinese company that built the helicopters was being sued by Sikorsky for patent violations — a sign to Jing Yo that it had done its work well.
“The American may have several men with him,” said Owl Eyes. “If this is a trap, he will be armed with antiaircraft weapons.”
“Why do you think that?”
Owl Eyes gave him a blank look. “I think that because, because it makes sense.”
“If it is a trap.”
“I would not underestimate them.”
“I don’t.”
But neither did Jing Yo overestimate them. The Americans bled like anyone else. He had dealt with a few in Malaysia, generally through proxies. They were very good, most of them, but human.
The intelligence officer started to tell him a few things about the terrain, how large swaths were being developed for farmland because of the effects of climate change, and how the jungle had become even more unruly because of the increased carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, which encouraged growth. Jing Yo already knew a great deal about all this; he’d had to learn it when planning his original mission. But he let Owl Eyes talk, unsure whether the man was authorized to know about those missions or not.
When they were finished, Jing Yo went to the mess tent to get himself some tea and something to eat before tackling his next piece of business — wrestling more men to help in the search. He had only his squad at present. True, he could call on regular army units to help — but they were the cause of the problem in the first place, and he was loath to rely on them.
That was the real difference between the Americans and the Chinese. Surely the Americans did not have to worry about politics and infighting between commands, the logrolling that was necessary to get simple directives fulfilled and enough men recruited for a task. Jing Yo was involved in a mission of considerable importance — or so he was told — yet he had not been assigned enough men to carry it out. Even the helicopters that were to transport him had been given over grudgingly.
How important was the mission, really? Maybe now that Na San had been taken, Sun simply wanted him out of the way.
No. The colonel’s anger had been real. And despite that, he had spoken almost kindly to Jing Yo. That could have meant only that this was more than a wild-goose chase.
Owl Eyes rushed into the tent, breathless.
“Lieutenant! We have him! We have a location for you! Six kilometers away! Hurry!”
19
“Yeah?” she said as she grabbed it.
“Mara, this is Lucas. Are you sleeping?”
“Sleeping?”
“Get up. I have a precise location on MacArthur. He’s in trouble. You’re only four kilometers away.”
Mara jumped up, shaking the fatigue and confusion away. “Give me coordinates,” she said. “GPS.”
“They’re already uploaded. How soon can you get there?”
“I can’t get anywhere until I know where they are.”
“Open up your system.”
Mara slid over to her gear, which she had piled next to her makeshift bed. She grabbed the handheld computer.
It was four kilometers away, all right, but there was a mountain in between. The nearest road would almost double the distance.
“What sort of troops are near there?” she asked Lucas.
“Our latest intelligence is nearly an hour old. We had elements of the Forty-fifth Division sweeping through. They’re infantry, light vehicles. There’s a small armored unit attached, APCs and armored cars. A handful of tanks.
