Dragon Sim-13

19

Riley smoothly pulled back on the trigger and the bark of the rifle echoed across the draw. A Chinese soldier, warming himself at a fire, was slammed back as the 7.62mm round tore a fatal path through his chest. Without conscious thought, Riley did as he'd been trained. He arced the muzzle of the weapon to his second target, standing at the next fire. The man had heard the first shot but didn't know what it meant. He never would, as Riley's round hit him in the center of the chest and he tumbled in a heap.

Riley fired all ten rounds in the magazine. Seven hits for ten shots. Four of them appeared fatal. He reloaded a fresh magazine and decided to wait a few minutes to allow the Chinese to react. He didn't think his muzzle flash had been spotted because there had been no return fire. He'd let the flash be seen during the next magazine. The whole purpose of the diversion was to draw out the Chinese. Hiding his location wouldn't do that.

In the Chinese lines, confusion reigned. The immediate reaction of the soldiers on guard was to put the fires out and get under cover. Those who had been sleeping were awakened and hastily joined their comrades. No one shot back because no one knew what, or where, to shoot.

The local regimental commander received fragmented reports from his battalion commanders. The 3d Battalion had two men shot, both fatally. The 2d Battalion had five shot, two fatally. The shots were apparently coming from the high ground to the north and west. The regimental commander was at a loss. He had never been trained to act on his own initiative. He relayed his report to division, with a request for orders on how to respond. Meanwhile, he belatedly ordered the battalion commanders to awaken all their men and get them under cover.

The battalion commanders shook their heads in amazement at the regimental commander's uninspired orders. Still they were content to stay where they were. No one was anxious to move out against an unseen threat.

Just in front of the Chinese lines, Mitchell heard the shots and watched as the fires went out. The members of Team 3 could hear shouting from the Chinese positions. Mitchell peered through his night-vision goggles, trying to determine what was going on. It looked as though everyone was getting under cover, with no sign of the forces moving forward. He decided he'd give them some more time to get organized and react. He waited ten minutes, and then the shooting started again.

Helicopter 579 had left almost twenty minutes ago. Trapp checked his watch one last time. It was out of their hands now. He was seated next to the captain of the Rathburne on the edge of the helipad. Hooker was on the other side of the captain, still holding the detonator in his hand.

Trapp lowered his AK-47 and bowed slightly at Lemester. "I guess they're far enough away. You can go back to running your ship now."

Lemester glared at the man with barely restrained anger. "What about the bomb over there? I want the detonator."

Hooker laughed. "You mean this? Here." He threw it at Lemester, who anxiously fumbled it before making the catch. "That's the remote control to my TV set back in Korea. I don't think I'll be needing it anymore. The satchel is my dirty laundry from the past week. I'd appreciate it if your ship's laundry could take care of it."

Lemester failed to see the humor in the situation. He yelled for his marines to come forward. "Throw these two in the brig."

Lemester turned to Peppers. "Did you radio in this situation to headquarters?"

Peppers shook his head. "No, sir. You ordered me to do nothing that would jeopardize the ship."

Lemester swore. Sometimes these Annapolis graduates took things too literally. "Lieutenant, how the hell do you think these idiots would have known if you had made a radio call? The air force could have scrambled some jets from Korea or Japan and intercepted the helicopter. It's probably too late now."

Lemester shook his head. "Of course I told you to do nothing. They could hear everything I said. I expected you to use some initiative. You idiot! Get out of my way." The captain climbed up to the radio room.

Riley peered through the night-vision goggles, which were pressed up against the four-power scope. He could barely make out some men gathered around a truck, looking as though they were arguing about something. Probably officers, Riley guessed. He aimed at them and fired five rounds in rapid succession. This time his muzzle flash was spotted. Another truck, farther to the south, opened fire with its heavy machine gun, and the green arc of tracers drew a line from the truck to a point just south of Riley's position. Five other trucks quickly joined in. Riley slid back under cover as random rounds flew overhead.

The regimental commander heard the machine gun fire in response. Still no word from division. He didn't know what to do. His 3d Battalion commander called back in with a report of two more men wounded and a tentative location of the firer — along the ridgeline on the north side of the draw, about two kilometers to the west. The regimental commander was amazed. That was a long way for such accuracy.

Finally division responded. "Move out and subdue firer. Attempt to capture, if at all possible. Reinforcements on the way."

The regimental commander relayed the orders and ordered his 3d Battalion, the northernmost one, forward; his 2d and 1st Battalions were to stretch out to keep the picket line intact. He contacted the commander of the regiment to his right flank and informed him of the plan.

The 3d Battalion commander was less than enthused when he received his orders to move out. The machine-gun firing had died out and there was no return fire. Maybe they'd hit whoever was shooting. The 3d Battalion commander doubted that. He relayed his orders to his company leaders, and slowly they got their units on line. The other two battalions blundered about in the dark, trying to stretch their lines to cover the breach that would be caused by the departure of 3d Battalion.

After the heavy machine-gun fire died out, Riley crawled back up to the crest of the ridge and peered over it toward the Chinese lines. He could make out some movement. He slid a round into the chamber from a fresh magazine and waited.

Major Thomas did not look forward to the upcoming briefing. General Parker, commander of the Eighth Army, Korea, had ordered the duty officer to keep him informed if any word came in on the missing helicopter from the 17th Aviation Regiment. Two minutes ago the general had walked over from his quarters across the street, ready for the latest update. A downed aircraft was a command-one priority in Korea.

Parker ran his hands through his mussed-up gray hair and unzipped the sweatshirt he had thrown on. "All right, Thomas. What's the latest?"

"Yes, sir. First off, you need to know that we just got word that the helicopter was sighted."

"Great. Is the crew all right? Where did it go down?"

"We don't know where it's at right now. It landed on the USS Rathburne more than two hours ago in the Sea of Japan." Thomas could see the confusion on the face of his boss.

"Whoa! What was it doing out there?"

"Sir, I just called Colonel Hossey down at DET-K and asked him to drive on up here. He's called a couple of times and he says he has some information on the helicopter."

Parker shook his head. That was even further out in left field. "What does DET-K have to do with this?"

"I'm not sure, sir."

Parker frowned. "All right. I assume the bird is still on the ship."

"No, sir. We don't know where it's at."

"What do you mean you don't know where it's at? They took it into custody, didn't they?"

Thomas shook his head. "The helicopter landed with some men with weapons who said they had a bomb on board. Took the captain of the ship hostage and demanded that he refuel the aircraft. He did so and the helicopter took off again. They left two people on board the ship with the bomb and they threatened to detonate it if the navy tried to call or shoot down the aircraft. The ship has the two in custody now. One of the two gunmen is the DET-K sergeant major."

Parker rolled his eyes. "Where is the helicopter going now?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Is there any more?"

"Yes, sir. We've got the identity of the crew of the helicopter. There is a Captain Jean Long as one of the pilots. The other pilot is a warrant officer named Colin Lassiter.

"We also got some more information on the configuration of the bird. It had four internal fuel tanks mounted, which give it the range, with the refuel from the Rathburne, to fly a hell of a long way. Also, it had two live Stinger missiles mounted on it."

Parker looked at the map on the wall of the operations office. Where could that helicopter be flying? He grabbed the secure phone and punched in the number for the 6th Air Force in Japan.

"This is General Parker, Commander Eighth Army. I need some jets in the air and an AWACS. Vicinity…," he put his hand over the receiver and looked at Thomas. "What's the grid for the RathburneV

Thomas gave it to him and Parker relayed it. "I want the commander on the AWACS to contact me as soon as he's airborne. We've got a helicopter on the loose up there and we need to lasso it."

Mitchell could see and hear movement in the Chinese lines, but even with the night-vision goggles he couldn't tell what was happening. For all he knew, the Chinese might be moving the whole skirmish line forward. He knew they had spotted Riley's position when the machine guns mounted on top of the trucks began returning fire. It was already 12:50. He'd give it another twenty-five minutes, then they'd start moving forward.

Parker glared as Colonel Hossey walked in. "What is going on, Colonel? I've got your sergeant major in the brig on a navy ship and a helicopter flying somewhere around the Sea of Japan with a lot of fuel on board. Where is that bird going and why?"

Hossey sighed. He'd been trying to tell his story all day and now finally someone wanted to know. "Sir, I've got men who were on a classified mission in China trapped there. I had to get them out tonight and using that helicopter was the only way."

Parker's eyes grew wide. "That helicopter is on the way to ChinaT The general looked at the map. "Jesus Christ, man. It's going to have to go over either North Korea or Russia to go in from the Sea of Japan. What did…" Parker paused as the duty officer indicated the phone.

"Sir, it's General Gunston, 6th Air Force commander on the STU III."

Parker grabbed the phone. "Parker here."

"This is Jim Gunston, Stu. What is going on? My duty officer has scrambled some jets and he also has an AWACS going up in response to your request. I just finished contacting my chain of command at the Pentagon, but no one on duty there knows anything about this."

Parker glanced briefly at Hossey. "I'm not too sure either. All I know is that I've got a helicopter inbound toward China from the Sea of Japan on an unsanctioned mission. We need to stop it."

There was a pause and then Gunston came back on. "I've got four F-16s from Misawa flying toward the position you gave, to try and intercept. I've also got an AWACS going up — it should be on line in about fifteen minutes. I don't think they'll be able to intercept the helicopter, though. It's got too much of a lead. Also, I'm kind of leery of putting all this into action so near Soviet and North Korean airspace. It's going to spook them."

Parker insisted. "We need to give our best shot at interception. I'm trying to find out right now what's going on. Let me know as soon as you learn anything." He hung up and faced Hossey again. "Start from the beginning."

It took the commander fifteen minutes to get his 3d Battalion on line, ready to move. The 1st and 2d Battalions were still not organized. The regimental commander decided not to wait. He gave the order for 3d Battalion to move out; stretched in a line, the four hundred men covered a nine-hundred meter front as they marched forward. They left a gap of almost a kilometer and a half behind them. Men from 1st and 2d Battalions scrambled to fill the gap, in turn opening holes in their own fronts.

At the army headquarters in Yanji, Colonel Tugur was finally awakened with the news. He quickly reviewed the reports and cursed as he read that the regimental commander had ordered his men forward. It was too late to stop them. Quickly he ordered more reinforcements into the area. He wasn't sure what was happening, but it could be a diversion — a fact that the regimental commander had apparently overlooked. Tugur also ordered all the helicopters to be prepared to take off. He relayed the information to General Yang up in Shenyang. Tugur knew that the responsibility for what happened tonight would be on his shoulders.

Riley could pick out the beginnings of a line moving toward his position. He decided to let the soldiers get close enough for Chong to join in the fun. Chong was still positioned about thirty meters to Riley's left, hidden securely behind some boulders. Riley gave a brief whistle and Chong whistled in response. He was ready. Riley put his weapon down and stretched his shoulders and arms. He took several deep breaths and leaned back against a rock. He had several minutes before he had to start killing again.

Mitchell pulled on Hoffman's arm, indicating that they were going to move out. The captain wanted to get closer to the Chinese lines. Hoffman reached over Olinski and grabbed Comsky, who in turn alerted C.J. They hefted up the stretcher, and the centipede of humans moved slowly out of the bushes where they had been hiding.

They walked for ten minutes, gaining fifty meters. Mitchell halted them and peered ahead through his goggles, trying to see what was ahead. He couldn't detect any movement or guards. He tapped Hoffman again and they started moving. Suddenly the crack of the SVD, closely followed by the burst of the SAW, sounded to the north.

Riley fired his first round carefully. Now that the moving skirmish line was only a thousand meters away, he could hit with a higher degree of accuracy. He ignored his feelings. The men out there would kill him if they could. It was kill or be killed. His first round was a head shot and took out a platoon or squad leader giving orders.

Riley fired the rest of the magazine quickly, shifting from target to target. In twenty-five seconds all ten rounds had been fired and all had hit. After Riley's first shot, Chong had joined in and the red tracers from the SAW had weaved their destructive path along the advancing line. Heavy machine guns from the trucks, still in their support position, and medium machine guns from the dismounted unit roared a reply. Lacking night-vision equipment, the Chinese gunners could fire only in the general vicinity of the muzzle flashes and the point of origin of the red tracers.

Mitchell could see the firing off to their left rear. Apparently some Chinese troops had moved forward. Mitchell could only hope that the line in front of him was thin enough to pass through. Only another hundred meters to where the picket line had originally been. Still no sign of anyone ahead. Mitchell tugged on the stretcher and they moved forward cautiously.

Tugur read the latest report with a bit of puzzlement. A machine gun joining in the rifle fire? So there were at least two people up there. Maybe this wasn't a diversion. Maybe the terrorists had seen that they were trapped and preferred to die fighting rather than be hunted down.

Colonel Tugur ordered the first pair of Haitun Z-9 helicopters into the air. There wasn't much the helicopters could do in the dark, but Tugur wanted them up there, just in case. He would rotate his six gunships, keeping two in the air for the rest of the night if need be.

The nearest troops were only five hundred meters away. Time to be moving on, Riley thought. He crawled over to Chong. "How you doing?"

Chong looked like an alien with the bulky goggles on. "Not bad, Top. I've fired only two magazines, so I've got four left. Those heavy machine guns are getting the range on us, though. Had a couple of rounds hit damn close last time."

Riley agreed, the Chinese were getting the range. Riley briefly considered not firing again, but he decided they had to. He couldn't be sure that the other men on Team 3 had made it through yet. They had to play the game until the end. "I'll fire five rounds fast and you give them one long five-second burst. Then we're out of here."

Chong nodded in agreement. They set up their weapons side by side on the outcropping. Riley scanned the line and picked a target who seemed to be giving orders. "Ready?"

"Yep."

Riley fired his five rounds in less than three seconds, shifting rapidly from target to target even as the Chinese soldiers dove for cover.

Chong fired one long burst. The two pulled in their weapons and slid down the loose rock, putting the outcropping between them and the enemy. It was just in time — the return fire was extremely accurate, and incoming rounds cracked by overhead.

"Let's go!" Riley led the way as they scrambled to the north, keeping the outcropping between them and the Chinese for as long as they could. After a hundred meters they had to climb up and were exposed to the enemy. If the Chinese had had any night-vision gear, Riley and Chong would have been spotted immediately as they clambered up the inclined rock wall. As it was, they were invisible in the dark, even as the skirmish line moved forward and swept over the position they had occupied.

Mitchell heard the brief burst of fire from Riley and Chong's position as he approached the area where he estimated the Chinese picket line had been. The shortness of the burst of fire told Mitchell that those were probably the last rounds Riley and Chong would fire in the diversion. The two were probably running by now. Still, they had held their position for almost an hour — far longer than expected. The Chinese response had been slow and uncoordinated.

The remaining members of Team 3 stepped forward slowly and cautiously, moving through the trees lining the riverbank. Mitchell was sweeping from left to right and back with the night-vision goggles. Off to his left he could barely discern a truck about seventy meters to the north. Between the truck and the stream he could see nothing else. They passed the remains of one of the picket-line fires.

They shuffled along slowly, the lead three struggling with the stretcher, C.J. following with his one good hand holding onto the back of Comsky's vest and Olinski's shotgun slung over his back. Mitchell was beginning to feel optimistic about their chances of making it through, when a voice close to his left front called out in Chinese.