south, then march inland about a mile and a half to the area of Ha Dong. A regiment of Chinese infantry had stopped here before the rain; their vehicles were the primary target.
“There is another depot here, farther down,” said Zeus, tracing the route on the map. This was held by a platoon’s worth of infantry and their vehicles. “Ideally, we can hit them at the same time. If we move out now, we can get them and withdraw before dawn.”
By the time Major Chau finished translating, Captain Kim had a worried look on his face. Zeus knew there was a problem.
“You better have him tell me what the problem is,” said Zeus.
With some reluctance, Kim explained that the Vietnamese had been able to muster only two patrol boats for the operation. They weren’t nearly big enough to carry all of the missiles and the men in one trip.
“How many can they carry?” Zeus asked.
Kim wasn’t sure. The weapon crates were bigger than they had thought.
“All right,” said Zeus. “We’ll figure it out when we see the boats. Let’s load up the trucks.”
The other boat was an ancient U.S. Navy PBR, a Vietnam War-era riverine patrol boat that had somehow made its way up from the delta. It was a tiny vessel, originally designed to handle only four crewmen, and never meant for rough water.
The Stolkraft could have taken all of the men, but not the missiles. Even with some of the men sitting in the life raft on the aft deck, they could only bring five three-man teams with all of their gear. The PBR could take one squad, with all of their missiles loaded aboard the Stolkraft.
“It’ll have to do,” said Zeus. “We’ll take one group up first. They’ll hit the northern depot. The Stolkraft will go back and load up. I’ll meet the second group farther south. We’ll strike the second point.”
“You’re going with them?” asked Major Chau.
“Yes. I have to show them how to shoot.”
“The procedure seemed easy.”
“I’m going with them. Ask Captain Kim if I can get a rifle. All I have is my Beretta.”
“Captain — ”
“I’m probably a better shot than most of these guys,” Zeus told Major Chau. “It makes sense that I have a gun.”
“I don’t believe General Trung envisioned your joining the troops,” said Chau.
Zeus just shrugged.
It was anything but smooth, but it beat what was happening on the other boat, which bounded up and down like a ball bouncing across the floor.
As long as he remained focused on the mission, Zeus was all right — not only did concentrating on what they were going to do help stave off seasickness, but it kept him from thinking about Anna.
“Another two kilometers to the inlet,” said Major Chau. “Almost there.”
“Good.”
“You should go back with the boat,” suggested Chau. “Your own general would surely prefer it.”
Undoubtedly. Perry would surely have a fit when he found out, but Zeus had decided he was going anyway. He couldn’t have said exactly why. Some of it may have been the speech the captain had made, some of it his promise to General Tri. Some of it was duty; despite General Perry’s comments, he felt his orders to help the Vietnamese meant that he had to actually help them, not leave them in the lurch.
And some portion, too, had to do with Anna. If he helped the Vietnamese now, maybe they would release her to him.
A war prize.
The waves calmed considerably as soon as they turned into the narrow strait of water that would take them to their landing area. The captain cut the engines, waiting for the PBR to join them.
Zeus took a long, slow breath and stared out at the blackness in front of the boat. The Chinese army was only a mile and a half away on their right.
It was a foolish plan. He should never have proposed it.
Too late now.
The boat began easing forward. Zeus left the bridge, climbing down the short ladder and walking to the forward deck. A sailor manned the machine gun there; four of the soldiers were crouched nearby, hunched over their knees as they waited to land.
“Looks good,” said Zeus, trying to sound optimistic.
The sailor on the gun raised his hand, catching the spirit if not the precise meaning of what Zeus had said.
The night smelled of metal and wetness, the air thick with the typhoon’s passing remnants. The boat’s captain had predicted a fog would rise from the land as the storm passed. That would help them, Zeus thought, at least until it came time to fire the missiles. The laser needed a clear line of sight to the target, and too much moisture would interfere with the beam.
So they’d wait for dawn then. No turning back now.
The Stolkraft jerked against something. There was a muffled shout from the cabin, a command from the bridge. They moved backward, the craft stuttering in the water. Though shallow-drafted, the vessel had run aground.
They maneuvered a little back and forth. Two sailors stripped to their underwear, and jumped into the water ahead of the bow. One disappeared completely. The other stood in water to his waist.
The sailors guided them farther up the strait toward the land, until finally the boat’s captain decided they were as close as they were going to get. They brought the other boat alongside, then began to unload.
Zeus was the third man off. He slipped into the water as quietly as possible. It was a foot and a half deep.
Before the storm, this had been a rice field. The berms that separated the fields were covered, leaving only those with trees visible.
It took nearly five minutes before the scout at the head of the group found a hump of dry land and a path to two small hovels beyond the field. The men quieted as they neared the buildings, unsure whether they were occupied or not.
Taking no chances, Captain Kim detailed two of his teams to check the first building. It was empty, as was the second. He left a trio of men there to guide the others still coming up from the boats, then continued with the rest to a narrow gravel road a short distance from the houses.
Zeus didn’t have a GPS unit, and had to get his bearings with a Vietnamese map and some Global Hawk images he had brought with him from the planning session. He turned his map sideways, retracing the path they had taken on the water, then moving his finger up through the land toward the hamlet the Chinese had seized as a command post before the storm. He double-checked it against the photos, making sure he was right.
If they went due north, then cut west, they should see Chinese troops. There were two companies waiting out the storm inside the trucks along the road. Another was back in the hamlet.
“We have to get through that lane over there,” Zeus told Captain Kim when he’d collected all his men. “There are some buildings where it meets the local highway. That should give us a vantage point to see up the road. The Chinese stopped about three miles farther north before the rain hit. We should be able to take the road.”
He waited for Major Chau to translate. The captain nodded vigorously.
