Edge of War

Getting out of the terminal might be hard. Hitting the helicopter as it took off presented its own difficulties, however. He’d have to be pretty close to ensure that he hit it.

Jing Yo saw a lane to his right. He started down it, saw a pair of children playing in the nearby yard. There was another lane, a dirt driveway, to his left. He turned, avoiding the kids, then saw a clear path to the road.

As he started to trot across the road, he spotted a man crouched near some bushes about a hundred meters ahead, up the hill.

A member of the scientist’s security team.

He threw himself down.

* * *

“Totally fucking lost him,” cursed Stevens.

Mara turned to Kerfer. The SEAL commander frowned but said nothing.

“He probably lives in one of the houses,” said Mara. She checked her watch. “We have twenty-five minutes. Let’s start pulling back and get up closer to the runway.”

“Twenty-five minutes is a long time.”

“It’s a quarter mile from the perimeter access road to the landing pad, and we have to get past two warehouses,” said Mara. “That’s ten minutes, crawling.”

“Sixty seconds, running.”

“You really want to wait until the last minute? Besides, everybody’s getting restless. You can hear it in their voices.”

Kerfer touched his radio. “Start pulling back very slowly. You got ten minutes to get back to the tree.”

* * *

Jing Yo watched the American begin to back up the hill slowly. Had he been spotted?

He craned his head, but he couldn’t see very far in either direction without getting up, and he dared not do that.

The American stopped. Jing Yo held his breath, waiting. Finally the man began to move again. Jing Yo slid his body to the left, edging backward at the same time. He dragged the case with him, pushing through the rough grass and dirt.

If the American hadn’t seen him, where would he be going?

He was obviously posted as a perimeter guard. He’d be pulling back to the terminal building.

Why?

Because it was time to leave, and he was being evaced as well.

Except the American didn’t seem to be moving toward the terminal. Rather, he was moving toward high ground near the end of the runway.

For a better view? Simply a guard rotation?

Jing Yo edged upward, crawling on his belly, then stopping as the American rose and jogged about twenty meters before diving back to the ground, out of sight.

There was another guard on Jing Yo’s left, a hundred meters away, stalking through the field.

Jing Yo breathed slowly, relaxing, readying himself. They’d seen him; they were coming for him.

The man had a submachine gun.

Jing Yo heard him say something. His ear was unaccustomed to English, so he had trouble deciphering the words.

Clear. That’s what he thought the man said. Clear.

Maybe it was wishful thinking. It meant he wasn’t spotted. It also meant the guards would relax now, easing their watch.

Time to advance.

Jing Yo took another breath. Patience was critical. And yet if he waited too long, he would lose his chance.

Now, he told himself, and started moving up the hill again. He spotted a group of boulders on his left. He rose on his hands and knees, then scrambled toward them.

A culvert extended across the access road below, up the slope, and over to the end of the runway. If he could get into the ditch, he could move in the direction the Americans were going without being seen. He’d also have a path to the runway.

Of course, there might be someone in it already.

The only way to find out was to run there.

Jing Yo emptied his lungs, pressing the stale air out.

He got up and ran to the ditch, diving in, not sure if he had just run into the enemy’s sights, ready, gun in hand. Ready.

The ditch was empty.

* * *

Stevens was the last of the team to arrive. Just as he dove in next to Kerfer, Josh heard the sound of helicopter rotors in the distance.

“You think that’s them?” asked Josh.

“I hope,” said Mara. She glanced at her watch. “They’re early.”

“How far off, you figure?”

“Couple of minutes,” said Kerfer. “Navy Seahawk. You’ll know when it’s real close. Ground starts to shake. We wait until then. It shakes, we go. You got the girl?”

Josh put his arm around M?. He felt a surge of relief. He’d been through so much. It was almost over.

“All right, let’s wait, and make sure this is it,” said Mara. She looked at Josh. “When we see it, we run straight across the road, across the end of the runway, to the cement pad. Got it?”

“Memorized,” said Josh.

“Make sure you’re locked and loaded,” said Kerfer. “You, too, Junior, Mara. If we need them, we’re going to want them right away.”

“You have maybe six rounds left,” Mara told Josh.

“Yeah, I know.”

None of them had much ammunition. But they didn’t need it now. The helicopter’s rotors were getting louder and louder.

“Seahawk,” said Stevens, pointing.

Kerfer held his hand up, watching for a few seconds.

“Go,” he said.

* * *

Jing Yo could feel the beat of the helicopter as it approached the airport.

This was it.

He snapped open the grenade launcher. The 40 mm shell had an effective range of roughly three hundred meters. The end of the runway was easily within that. But what if it landed farther down, away from him?

He’d run to get closer. He wanted to get it just after it took off, just after the scientist was aboard.

He’d have only one chance. He’d have to run as closely as he could. He’d run with both legs, as the monks said.

Jing Yo picked up the launcher. He wished he’d taken the other. Reloading for a second shot would take time; having the second launcher would have been easier.

Just make sure you don’t miss, he told himself.

He checked the strap on the submachine gun, ready to fire. The rucksack was on his back. He’d need it later, for the extra bullets, for the escape.

There’d be no escape. That was not his fate.

The helicopter flew over the beach on his right, heading for the runway. Jing Yo took another long breath.

They were running!

The scientist was right there, running, not fifty yards away.

The woman he’d seen in Hanoi. And… a girl.