awhile?”
Bird Dog accepted the gift. It was the slim copy of Sun Tzu’s
Batman stood in the tower next to the Air Boss, looking out beyond the flight deck to the silhouette of an oncoming CH- 46E Sea Knight. There were two silhouettes, actually: the helicopter’s and that of its cargo, dangling beneath. Behind them glared the red furnace of the setting sun; beneath spread a blood-colored river of light. Blood-colored, Batman thought grimly. How appropriate.
“That’s the last trip, Admiral,” the Air Boss said. “Got the biggest piece of the boat. Had a hell of a time hooking it up.” He paused. “I understand most of it broke off and sank anyway.”
“Will it fit in the hangar bay?” Batman asked.
The Air Boss scanned the double silhouette with a practiced eye. “I think so. Barely. I’m having them set it down by the aft elevator; we’ll see from there.”
Batman nodded.
“I heard the legal eagles are disturbed about us bringing any of the boat aboard,” the Air Boss said. “Something about salvage laws.”
Batman set his jaw. “I’d say that taking control of evidence of international piracy and mass murder is a bit more important than salvage law.”
“I don’t mind telling you, Admiral — I’m glad it’s your headache and not mine.”
“You’ve got enough to worry about, Chad. Let me take care of the bullshit.”
The Sea Knight circled aft, gradually changing from a blunt silhouette to a long, sun-smeared loaf of French bread with enormous rotors fore and aft. Beneath it, suspended by cables and netting, hung a slab of fiberglass bursting with aluminum rails, foam insulation, wires, miscellaneous pieces of upholstery and carpeting.
“Used to be part of the upper deck and main cabin, I guess,” the Air Boss said. “We could get lucky; maybe there’s a logbook or something in it.”
Batman, not trusting to luck, just nodded.
The Sea Knight positioned itself off the stern and began easing toward the deck. Like any other aircraft, helos benefited from using prevailing wind conditions to increase lift — especially when heavily loaded.
On deck, the landing signals officer, or LSO, signaled the helo toward the aft elevator.
The helo drifted over the stern, rotors beating heavily, cargo just clearing the non-skid. As usual, the skill required to maneuver the big helo stirred a grudging respect in Batman, who generally shared the jet jockey’s ingrained disdain for “eggbeaters.”
The LSO backed up step by step, drawing the helo in. When the cargo was finally hovering just above the elevator, the signals changed and the Sea Knight eased to a halt. The cargo began to descend, cables trembling as the winch played out. Flight deck personnel eased in toward it, ready to wrestle the massive hulk into position.
The smashed piece of yacht hull touched the deck, and the cables began to slacken. Suddenly Batman felt a chill flash through him, so powerful it shook him to his heels. “Get those men —!” he began.
A flash of light blotted out the sunset, ripping into the sky and across the deck, pursued by a roiling black cloud and a bellow that rattled the Plexiglas in Pri-Fly. Batman instinctively ducked, and found the Air Boss crouching right beside him. “What the
Then both were back on their feet. “Fire on the flight deck!” the Air Boss shouted. He slammed the General Quarters alarm on and jabbed at the bitch box. “Officer of the Deck, Boss. Did you see that?”
Batman stared at the flight deck, unmoving, as the alarm went off. Where the wreckage of the yacht had been was now nothing but a blackened, cratered section of the elevator pad. Inboard from that, a ring of flames leaped across the deck. Four parked Hornets were on fire. So were two prostrate bodies. There was no sign of the LSO. How many other —
Then the Sea Knight appeared, dropping from the sky on a comet of flame. It barely cleared the flight deck, vanishing over the side.
A moment later, an enormous plume of water rose in a bursting fountain. It spread and collapsed down again, and not one drop reached the blazing deck.
Bird Dog lowered the book and stared at the ceiling above his bunk. Even back at War College, he had found
And about as practical.
Bird Dog cringed when he thought about his attempt, at the special briefing, to explain China’s motivation for sinking the
Closing the book, he sighed and tried to concentrate on something more predictable: the flow of activity on the flight deck, its music transmitted to him in the muffled roar of spooled-up jet engines and the thump of the catapult shuttle hitting its stops. Just by listening to that symphony overhead, he could tell what was going on. Today, the rhythm had alternated between the launching and landing of fixed-wing aircraft and the arrival of helos bearing bloody presents from the South China Sea. Currently, the quiet heralded a helo period.
God, he wished he was scheduled to fly tonight. Or better, the next time Lobo was scheduled. He frowned. What
Okay, that took care of that. He opened the book again, arbitrarily, and started reading.
Well, now,
He dropped the book onto his stomach as the ship transmitted an unfamiliar sensation to him: a sharp jolt, followed by a deep, buzzing vibration. A moment later came the sound of thunder.
Bird Dog’s feet hit the deck before general quarters began to sound.
FOUR
The sky above Hong Kong was a shimmer of purple silk as General Ming Wen Hsien strode toward the administrative wing of the Hong Kong garrison of the People’s Liberation Army. At the door, he paused to take in the view of Hong Kong’s lights soaring up against the twilight. The scene looked like one of the postcards sold in the lobbies of the fancy Central District hotels.
With his aide just behind him, Ming entered the building and saluted a surprised-looking desk sergeant. “Remain where you are,” he said, as the guard started to stand. “Do not notify the commanders I am here.”
“Y-yes, sir,” the sergeant stuttered.
