Dancing with the Dragon

Chapter 26

Jackie and Scott were going over the final details of their upcoming operation when the chartered Dassault Falcon 50 jet began descending. The flight from Bangkok had been more than bumpy at times, but the Thai pilots had managed to work their way around most of the severe thunderstorms.

Scott glanced out the window as they flew through a heavy rain shower, and then turned to Jackie. "After the demo, we'll secure the helicopter for the night and make sure the jet and the helo are topped off with fuel, and then we'll check into our hotel. We'll wait there until after dark to make our way back to the airport and preflight the helicopter."

"Sounds good," she said, and looked at her briefing folder. "According to the map, it's just a short walk to the hotel."

"Looks like it." Scott thumbed through his aeronautical charts. "When we request permission to take off, we'd better fly southeast about ten to twelve miles before we turn the exterior lights off. Then we'll turn off the transponder and head north to Mianyang."

She rotated the round metal wheel of her small, pocket-size aviation computer. "Let's see, it's going to be about eighty-five to ninety miles from that point. We'll call it thirty-five, say, forty minutes to the grass field near the complex."

"That's about right." He studied the detailed aeronautical charts for the area around Chengdu and then turned his attention to the recently opened Mianyang Nanjiao Airport. The civilian airport was near Jiuzhaigou, one of the most popular tourist attractions in China.

"We're going to have to be careful around the new airport at Mianyang."

She nodded. "True, but we have to worry about getting there first. We need two ingress plans — one for good weather and another if we have to hug the ground."

Jackie looked at the charts. "Why don't we file IFR to Chongqing? When we clear the ridge, we'll cancel. That will put high terrain between us and Chengdu most of the way to Mianyang."

Chengdu was in a valley with an average elevation of 1,660 feet. Mountainous terrain to the northwest rapidly rose to a height of almost 21,000 feet. Fifteen miles to the southeast of Chengdu a narrow elevation of land nearly ninety miles long extended from fifty miles south to forty miles northeast of the city. The tops of the ridges ranged from 3,300 feet to nearly 3,700 feet.

Scott turned the chart and ran his finger along the ridge leading to Mianyang. "If the weather cooperates, that's a great idea. But if the weather turns sour, we'll have to stay on the west side of the ridge and follow the railroad to Mianyang."

Jackie pointed to the vast number of rice fields in the sparsely populated area. "The other side of the ridge gives us a better chance to arrive at Mianyang without being noticed by anyone, including the controllers at the new airport."

"That's a great plan if the weather's clear, but if we're in the clag and the GPS goes down, we're cooked — finished. We can't risk groping around in the dark trying to find Mianyang. We need to remain visual and follow the railroad up there."

She thought about it for a few moments. "Okay, let's be flexible and have two different flight plans to Mianyang — behind the ridge if the weather's good and following the railroad if the weather tanks."

"Sounds reasonable to me."

The landing gear dropped out of the Falcon's wheel wells and thumped into place. The pilot pulled the throttles to flight idle and rapidly increased his rate of descent.

"I just hope Hartwell's info on Cheung's location is correct," Scott said. He studied the map of the area surrounding the Mianyang complex. Next he turned his attention to the high-resolution commercial imagery provided by Space Imaging, Inc. The panchromatic satellite pictures of the secretive complex were extremely sharp and clear. "If it turns out to be heavily guarded, we're in trouble."

Jackie flipped through the pages of her folder. "It says the complex is guarded, but the housing area where Cheung is supposedly kept is totally enclosed by a high chain link fence. No mention of guards."

"What would keep Cheung, or any other detainee, from cutting through the fence and escaping?"

"A guard, or guards — maybe it's an electric fence."

"We'll know soon enough." Scott closed his folder and examined the various ships plying the waters of the South China Sea. "How's the Agusta cramming coming along?"

"No problem."

"Seriously?"

"I mean it. I have everything I need to know memorized. You've flown one, you've flown 'em all."

"Need to know," he said with a smile. "That would be category-one information, right?"

"That's correct. Want to know is category-two information, and who gives a rat's patootie is category-three info."

"Well put, my dear."

Jackie leaned close to him. "Something's bothering you — what is it?"

"I don't know. I just have an uneasy feeling."

"We don't have to do this, you know."

He rubbed his chin. "It's probably just anxiety from sitting around thinking about the unknowns."

"That'll do it every time."

"It'll go away as soon as we get started. It always does, at least for me, when I kick the tires and light the fires."

"Yeah, when you're scarring the hell out of yourself, you don't have time for self-doubt or introspection — just pure survival mode."

"You got it." Scott watched the container vessels and cargo ships rapidly grow larger as the tri-engine Falcon 50 approached Chek Lap Kok Hong Kong International Airport and marine terminal.

Located on a 4.82-square-mile island outside the urban corridor, CLK is a key international freight hub for aircraft and cargo ships.

They remained quiet as the Falcon touched down, rolled out to a safe speed, turned off the runway, and taxied to the Hong Kong Business Aviation Centre on the south side of the airport. The pilot brought the sleek jet to a smooth stop in front of China's first business-aviation support center.

Jackie and Scott used their bogus credentials and passports to clear customs and immigration, and then they were approached by their contact from the Agency.

The tall American male was dressed in an airline pilot's uniform and introduced himself as Bob Smith. He had been briefed and was shown their photos only three hours before they arrived.

"Let's take a walk," Bob said. The trio headed back to the expansive aircraft parking area.

"This isn't my usual role," Bob admitted. "We've had some unusual… ah, circumstances that weren't factored in."

"Like what?" Jackie asked.

"Everything is okay, but your jet theLearjet — is still at Shanghai's Hongqiao Airport."

"When is it going to be back?" Scott asked.

"We're not exactly sure. They had to change an engine part — I don't know what the hell it was. The replacement parts were shipped to Pudong International, Shanghai's newest airport. It's taken a while to get things sorted out, but the pilot said they should be here by early tomorrow afternoon."

Scott looked at Jackie. "I told you I had an uneasy feeling."

"I have the VIP lounge reserved for you. You can stay in there until your instructor arrives. He'll be back in about fifteen to twenty minutes."

"Sounds good," Jackie said, glancing at the low-lying mountains behind the Hong Kong Business Aviation Centre. "Is the helicopter here?"

"Ah, yes — it's in the hangar along with the, ah, supplies you requested. They're inside the helicopter and need to be camouflaged."

"Well, that's certainly good news," she replied. "Scott, let's check with Hartwell and see how this delay is going to affect the operation."

"You eyeball the flying machine and I'll work on camouflaging our supplies," Scott suggested. "I'll get in touch with Hartwell later."

"Whatever."

"Oh, a couple of other things," Bob said. "Since the Learjet and the helicopter are based here, and we have the fix in, you won't have to get landing permits — just the usual paperwork and flight plans."

"Great," Jackie said. "We appreciate it."

"No problem. You have reservations at the Grand Hyatt, and I'll be leaving you at this point. Whatever you're doing, good luck."

"Thanks," Jackie and Scott said, and then shook hands with Bob. The tall stranger walked to a waiting taxi and never looked back.

When Jackie and Scott entered the nearly spotless hangar, they were impressed with the gleaming orange-and-white Agusta A109E Power helicopter. The medevac interior included room for two patients, two medical technicians, and a pilot.

He picked two large canvas bags out of their luggage and loaded the weapons, grenades, body armor, helmets, extra ammo, night vision goggles, and the binoculars into them. Surveying the area for anyone or anything that looked suspicious, Scott locked the bags and concealed them in the back of the helicopter.

From the pages of the Agusta training manuals, Jackie had learned a lot about the powerful twin-engine helicopter with the innovative four-bladed main rotor system. Equipped with 640 shaft horsepower Pratt & Whitney Canada free-turbine engines, the EMS helicopter could hover on one engine, cruise at 150–155 knots, and had a range of more than five hundred statute miles, depending on the winds and fuel burn.

An optional SX-5 Starburst searchlight had been mounted on the helicopter. The installation limited the never-exceed speed to 140 knots.

While she was conducting an introductory preflight on the sleek helicopter, Jackie's instructor walked up and introduced himself to her. The retired former U.S. Coast Guard helicopter pilot would prove to be friendly and very skilled in the art of teaching.

Unable to reach Hartwell Prost, Scott joined Jackie and her instructor while the Agusta was being rolled out of the hangar. After introductions, Scott quietly took Jackie aside.

"Hartwell is in a meeting with the president. I'll try again after I check into the Hyatt, but I have to tell you that I have some reservations about this operation."

"So do I. Why don't you take the rest of our bags and check in to the hotel. When I get there, we'll discuss the overall picture and see if we're comfortable enough to continue."

"Yeah, we need to think through this." He glanced at the brightly painted helicopter. "Be careful."

"Always."

President Liu Fan-ding, enraged over his humiliating experience in Bangkok, had called an urgent meeting of select Communist Party leaders. The men had gathered in secret within the confines of the Zhongnanhai, the sprawling estate that is considered China's contemporary Forbidden City and is located next to the original golden-roofed Forbidden City.

Following Liu Fan-ding's inflammatory remarks, top leaders met in private meetings of xiao zu (small groups) to discuss the dangerous standoff with the United States. The code of secrecy and loyalty among the men and their staffs was so intense that only a few individuals knew about the clandestine meetings.

To preserve the appearance of unity and harmony, the party leaders were accustomed to keeping their personal preferences and opinions well hidden. If there was dissension among them, the men kept it to themselves. They reached their decisions in private, with only cursory consideration of public opinion.

This occasion was no different. Even though China's immediate future was in jeopardy, the hostility between Beijing and Washington had become intractable. The bitterness was aggravated by China's intense lust for reunification with Taiwan and Washington's vow to intervene on behalf of Taipei.

After two hours of strenuous discussions and arguments, the decision was made, and it immediately disappeared behind the mysterious veil of official Beijing secrecy. Disregarding their personal concerns and grave reservations, the individual members of the Politburo reluctantly gave the flawed decision their seal of approval.

Liu Fan-ding had persuaded party leaders that it was time to call President Macklin's bluff — before the United States had time to complete the rebuilding of its downsized military and strengthen Taiwan's forces.

The People's Liberation Army was immediately granted permission to seize the renegade province of Taiwan before Taipei or Washington could implement a missile defense perimeter. The months of planning, stockpiling equipment and missiles, and staging warships, landing craft, airplanes, and soldiers was about to climax in the invasion of Taiwan.

Although China could seriously damage Taiwan, conventional wisdom concluded that Beijing didn't have the capability to make an opposed landing with amphibious forces. It would be even more difficult with American forces aiding Taipei.

Those logical conclusions were overlooked in Liu Fan-ding's fervor to rule Taiwan.

Scott was admiring the magnificent view of Victoria Harbor just before sunset when Jackie gently knocked. He rose from his chair, then walked to the door and opened it.

"They wouldn't give me a—"

"Here, I have a key for each of us."

"Thanks."

"How'd it go?"

"It went very well," she said with a great deal of exuberance. "It's an easy ship to fly. I can't believe how much power it has — it's like a rocket ship with rotor blades."

"Sounds like fun," Scott said, and motioned toward the sunset. "Not a bad view, huh?

"It's beautiful, absolutely incredible."

"You want to change and go out for dinner?"

"Actually, I'd prefer to have a quiet dinner in the hotel and then take a long, hot bath — just relax."

"That sounds like a plan."

"Did you get in touch with Hartwell?"

"Not yet."

"Well, I'll change into something more comfortable," she said, turning toward the bedroom. "We'll try Hartwell later."

"Hurry — maybe we can catch the sunset."

"Ninety seconds."

The airplane was over Arizona when President Macklin walked into the conference/briefing room. Hartwell Prost and Brett Shannon could see the anger in Macklin's eyes.

The latest intelligence reports painted a vivid picture of a dangerous flashpoint developing in the Taiwan Strait. From all indications, China was about to launch an invasion to capture Taiwan. U.S. forces and Taiwanese forces in the area were on high alert. Many of the Southeast Asian allies were diverting their warships to aid Taiwan.

SecDef Pete Adair and air force general Les Chalmers were on secure phones in the White House Situation Room.

Macklin sat down and punched the button for the remote speaker. "Pete, Les, can you hear me?"

"Yessir, Mr. President," they said at the same time.

"I've been over your plans and I completely agree with you. As soon as Beijing fires the first volley, I want to put a lid on this so fast they won't know what hit them — otherwise this could escalate completely out of control in a matter of hours."

"We have most of what we need in place," Pete Adair said, looking at the current status board. "And we have more assets en route."

"Excellent. Les?"

"Yes, sir."

"I don't want to leave us exposed anywhere else in the world, but I'd sure like to have as many bombers as you can spare."

"They're on the way, sir."

"Okay," Macklin said, glancing at the latest situation report from the Pentagon. "I'll see you in a couple of hours."

After a sumptuous dinner of Peking duck, Jackie soaked in a hot bubble bath for twenty minutes and then joined Scott in the living room.

"Feel better?"

"Like a new woman." She sat on the couch next to him. "Incidentally, the helo is on its way to Chengdu. If the weather holds, it will be there early in the morning."

"Good — at least something is going right."

"For a change."

"While you were soaking, I finally made contact with Hartwell they were over New Mexico."

"What's the latest?"

"Well, he seemed a little detached, but he said everything was set for tomorrow night."

"He probably has jet lag."

"Or major problems with China."

"Let's discuss the Mianyang op," she said. "What do you really think our chances will be — the probability factor?"

"It's going to be a long shot — at best."

"What's your main concern?"

"All the unknowns," he said with a frown. "In this type of situation, we're going to have to evaluate each step as we take it. If it doesn't look right, we call it off — that's it."

"No argument here," she said. "If either one of us feels uncomfortable — at any time — we get out of Dodge. Agreed?"

"That's the way I see it. No heroics this time, just common sense." She laughed. "That'll be the day."

General Les Chalmers and Pete Adair were waiting when the president entered the room, followed by Hartwell Prost and Brett Shannon. As usual, Macklin's Secret Service agents quietly left the room when he sat down at the large conference table.

"What do we know?" the president asked, looking at Adair. "It's imminent — they've telegraphed everything but the launch time."

"Brett, is there anything else diplomatically we can do — any way to shock Beijing into reality?"

"Sir, I've tried everything I can think of. Our folks have pleaded with everyone from Washington to Beijing."

Shannon took a deep breath and plunged on. "Mr. President, if you would personally contact Liu Fan-ding, we might have a chance of stopping this madness."

"I'll give it a try." Without hesitation, Macklin initiated the call and talked with three screeners before he was told the Chinese president was not available. Keeping his anger and disappointment to himself, the president placed the phone down.

"Well, gentlemen, they're determined to risk it all, and I'm determined to stop them in their tracks. We will not use any ambiguous language, and we'll stand by the Taiwan Relations Act of 1979. Any questions?"

The room remained silent.