by Dave Edlund
Jim and his team stood transfixed by the story they were hearing. Jim was trying to fathom the implications of this genetic weapon, as Wu called it.
“There is no antidote?” Jim asked, already knowing the answer.
Wu shook his head. “No. It is perhaps the ultimate weapon of terror.”
“Ming said that he is developing a new serum based on the Ebola virus.”
Wu thought for a moment before answering. “The Ebola virus is readily spread by contact with infected body fluids. Maybe it could also be engineered to spread by contact with infected water. Regardless, the mortality is very high. Those who unfortunately survived the hemorrhagic fever would be transformed into Homothals. Colonel Ming cannot be allowed to succeed.”
“Why strike against Ming now? There must have been plenty of opportunities to stop him once it became clear that he wasn’t going to cooperate with your government.”
“Ming claimed to have large doses of the virus hidden near all major water sources of eastern China as well as locations in our major metropolitan cities. There are more than 140 cities in China each with a population exceeding one million people!
“He claimed the virus could be spread by air—infecting people who breathe in the virus—or through water by contact and consumption. Our scientists were skeptical, but no one could take the risk.
“Imagine the popular reaction if masses of citizens suddenly began transforming into those Homothal creatures? For sure, many—perhaps most—would die in the process. The women and children, the elderly—most would not survive the transmutation. But those who did survive would be animals, not humans. They would not be able to communicate or function in an orderly society. The result would be complete anarchy.”
Wu was shaking his head. “No government could survive that type of attack.”
“So, the Generals continued to support Ming’s work even though Ming had put a genetic gun to their heads?”
“No. They continued to support Ming because he had a gun to their heads.”
“Why not just call in an airstrike on this compound and wipe it off the face of the Earth?”
“Ming warned that he had many followers who would carry forth his orders as a final act of revenge.”
“If that’s true, then why act now?” Jim asked. “Clearly the threat is still there.”
“Perhaps. I am just a soldier following orders. But I have heard that despite much effort over the past five years not a single canister has been found.”
“So Ming was bluffing?”
Captain Wu shrugged. “No one can be certain. But the PLA has not been sitting still. In the years since Ming first made the threats my government has built massive water sterilization units at all major water treatment plants. They have also installed air sanitizers—tens of thousands of them—in the major cities. Our scientists are confident that a combination of ozone and ultraviolet light combined with nanosilver filtration will be completely effective at killing the virus. The machines were turned on two weeks ago.”
Jim understood, but he sensed there was more that Captain Wu was not revealing. If the story was just as Wu claimed, then the PLA’s presence was not required at the compound. A half dozen cruise missiles would very effectively destroy the research facility and everything within it. Jim suspected that Wu was sent here to retrieve the knowledge that Ming had acquired over the years and then destroy the complex.
Jim reasoned that since the Chinese government had spent years building internal defenses to destroy the virus and protect at least a major portion of their population, they may not be so fearful of an inevitable release of the virus. On the contrary, if the virus could be carried great distances through human travel, then the government in Beijing may sense an opportunity.
If Jim’s suspicions were even partly correct, there was no way SGIT could allow anyone to possess the knowledge secured within Ming’s secret compound.
Chapter 48
Darfur
June 14 0927 hours
The deep rumbling was felt as much as heard. It seemed to be funneled toward them from the corridor where Ming had hastily departed minutes earlier. Jim didn’t wait to confer with Captain Wu; he quickly started running toward the source of the rumbling sound with Ghost, Magnum, and Bull following close behind. Captain Wu and his strike team brought up the rear.
Jim reached an intersecting corridor extending to the right and left. He paused only for a second, quickly concluding that the sound was emanating from somewhere to the front, in the direction he was heading.
The SGIT and Chinese soldiers pushed forward, stopping momentarily at the next intersection. Jim was turning his head from side to side, trying to locate the direction from which the rumbling originated. It was getting louder, but the echo off the hard concrete surfaces was making it tough to clearly determine the source’s direction. Jim decided it was louder to the right, and he took off running just as the rest of the team arrived at the junction.
There were few markings on the drab gray walls, but at each intersection Jim observed red signs with a brief notation in Mandarin, most likely directional signs.
The hallway stretched out before Jim for another fifty or so yards then turned sharply to the left. He almost slid into the hard wall as he negotiated the turn without slowing down. As he turned, he saw a pair of large steel doors at the end of the short corridor. The ceiling was also sloping upward, so that at the double doors it was perhaps twenty feet high. Jim stopped to allow the others to catch up.
Captain Wu leaned close to Jim and said in a low voice, “This is a flight hangar. I imagine the sound we are hearing is the retractable ceiling being opened.”
“You’re familiar with the plans for this compound?” Jim asked.
“Yes. I’ve been briefed on the blueprints. A section of the roof can be closed to obscure the true nature of this structure. It is covered in reinforced concrete one meter thick and disguised on the surface to blend in with the surrounding desert terrain—so your satellites would not see an abnormal heat signature.
“What type of aircraft and weaponry are in the hangar?”
“The roof section is only large enough to allow one helicopter access at a time. The aircraft are lifted to the surface on an elevator platform. As far as weapons are concerned, Colonel Ming has access to attack helicopters, so we can assume that is what he is planning to depart in. The building plans called for a full armory adjoining the hangar.”
“Great,” Jim said.
Looking to his SGIT team, and then quickly scanning the Chinese commandos, he added, “We don’t have any heavy weapons, and the only grenades I see are on your men. If they have access to a full armory, we could be in trouble.”
“My soldiers are elite PLA warriors. We will accomplish our objective,” Captain Wu asserted confidently. Jim did not share in that confidence.
Jim reached out and tested the door. Not surprising, it was locked.
“I think our first challenge is getting through those doors,” Jim declared.
Wu frowned. “We will blow the door open with our grenades,” Zhao suggested.
While Captain Wu was considering, Jim addressed Magnum. “Don’t suppose you’d have any det cord in your bag of goodies?”
Magnum smiled. “As a former Boy Scout, I’m always prepared.” He dropped the pack from his shoulders and reached inside, his hand rummaging around until he found what he was searching for.
Proudly holding a cardboard spool wrapped with layers of yellow cord about a quarter inch in diameter, Magnum offered it up. “Uncle Sam’s finest. There’s a hundred feet on this spool.”
“More than enough to blast through those doors,” Jim agreed. Then, addressing Wu, he said, “Save those grenades, we may need them after we blow through the door.”
Jim’s men quickly began to apply the det cord around the perimeter of both doors, running the cord in a continuous loop down the sides where the hinges were located and across the top and bottom, to cover an
y slide bolts anchoring the doors when locked. Jim noticed that Wu had stepped to the side with Corporal Zhao and seemed to be engaged in a somewhat heated discussion.
It took a little more than a minute to set the charge. “This is a five second fuse. Everyone, down the corridor!”
Jim popped the fuse and was the last man to move away from the impending blast. CRACK! BOOM! All the men did what they could to prevent permanent hearing damage by covering their ears while holding their mouths open. As the echoes died, they could hear the sound of steel rattling on concrete. The doors were blown cleanly off their hinges and lay alongside pieces of doorframe inside the flight hangar.
The hangar space was cavernous—easily 50 yards on each side and roughly square. In the center of the hangar, on a large platform, rested a Chinese attack helicopter.
The pilot was at the controls going through the preflight check list. In response to the explosion, the pilot switched on the engines. It would take a minute, possibly two, for the powerful turbine engines to warm up. Ming and his bodyguards stood close to the helicopter and were staring at the blown door.
Jim and Captain Wu realized they didn’t have much time if they wanted to block Ming’s escape.
Wu charged forward followed closely by his men. They all threw grenades towards the helicopter sitting on the lift elevator. The overhead door was open halfway and daylight was streaming into the hangar.
“They don’t waste any time, do they?” Jim quipped. There was no cover beyond the door opening, and Jim felt the charge was suicidal. He ordered Magnum, Ghost, and Bull to hug the walls of the corridor as they cautiously approached the door opening, weapons ready.
Each of Wu’s soldiers had thrown two grenades at the helicopter. It was an armored gun ship, and grenades would do little more than superficial damage unless one actually detonated within the aircraft—they had no such luck.
Without cover, Wu’s men didn’t get far. They were pinned down no more than five feet within the entry that had been blasted open. Sprawled flat on the floor, the Chinese commandos tried to will themselves as flat as a pancake. Enemy bullets were ricocheting off the walls and floor. The intensity of fire was fierce, but Wu’s men never hesitated and were equally determined in returning fire.
As the fighting erupted Ming’s soldiers dispersed throughout the hangar, leaving only two bodyguards and the pilot with Ming. They took up defensive positions behind tool chests, drums of hydraulic oil, and spare parts lockers. This required Wu’s commandos to aim at multiple, dispersed targets.
Jim cautiously held his small force outside the open doorway to the hangar. He ordered his men to return fire from the marginal cover of the blasted doorframe. At best, it would only be minutes before the concentrated fire directed at Wu’s men resulted in their annihilation. Jim spotted the armory off to the right, adjoining the far wall of the hangar; the over-sized double door connecting the armory to the hangar was open.
“Magnum, how much C4 do you have left in your pack?”
“We placed most of it already as demolition charges. But I still have two blocks.”
Each stick weighed one pound, more than sufficient to do tremendous damage… especially in the confined space of the hangar.
“Pull ‘em out. Put a ten second fuse in each block.”
While Magnum was carrying out the order, Jim turned to Ghost. “Dig into your pack and give me a pair of socks.” Given the high value-to-weight ratio of something like dry, clean socks, Jim was pretty sure all team members carried at least one extra pair stuffed somewhere in their packs.
“Say again, sir.” Ghost couldn’t put the pieces together, so the order sounded like nonsense.
“Your socks! It’s called improvising, soldier. Watch and learn.”
Ghost did as he was ordered and produced a pair of tan GI socks.
Magnum completed prepping the first block. It had the detonator firmly jammed into the end of the brick of plastic explosive. He handed it to Boss Man and immediately began work to prep the second block of C4.
Ghost’s socks were balled together, and Jim separated them while Magnum prepared the second block of explosive with the detonator. Jim inserted one block of C4 into each sock, just far enough that he could activate the detonator and then drop the C4 all the way down into the sock. But he didn’t activate the detonators just yet.
“I’m going to move up to the door; you three cover me. I have to get inside the doorway. Then I need about three seconds to activate the detonators and heave these blocks at the armory. If I can get at least one inside, maybe we can cause a little mayhem to even the odds.”
Ghost didn’t like the plan. “You’ll be totally exposed in there,” he reminded Jim.
“Do you have a better idea?”
Jim’s question was met with silence. “Okay,” Jim answered somberly. “I don’t either… and those guys won’t last long,” he said in reference to Wu’s commandos. Already two of his men had taken hits; a bullet entering one man’s calf and the second man had his left hand shattered by a well-aimed shot.
Jim’s team was already positioned at both sides of the former doorway, with Ghost and Magnum on one side and Bull and Jim on the other.
“Hug the walls, but stay low. On my mark you let go with everything you have, draw their fire but keep your heads down. Got it?”
All three men nodded.
“As soon you start shooting, I’ll pop up inside the hangar and throw these charges at the armory. The socks will act like a slingshot, and with the high ceiling it should be easy to land them inside the armory. The rest is up to Lady Luck.”
Jim sucked in a deep breath. “Ready?”
Nods again.
“Ready… now!” Jim ordered.
The Special Forces commandos were fighting a courageous battle—but one they could not win. Peering around the chipped and fractured concrete wall, Ghost went low with his shotgun while Magnum and Bull went high. They were all firing rapidly, trying to put as much lead down range as possible.
It worked.
The return fire from Ming’s forces ebbed momentarily as men sought cover. This was the break that Jim needed. He popped out from behind Bull and, swinging his two tan socks in a large circle, he let them fly.
In the middle of a fierce gunfight, it was perhaps the strangest sight one could image—two GI socks arcing through the air, the tan stretch uppers flapping wildly in flight.
Chapter 49
Darfur
June 14 0941 hours
Jim let go of the socks at the precise point in his underhand swing to impart a high, looping trajectory. The sock-bombs separated a bit from each other during the three second flight, but both landed just inside the door to the armory.
Loaded with one pound of C4 in each sock, they hit the smooth concrete floor with an inaudible thud and continued to slide across the polished floor until each came to rest against a stack of drab-green metal lockers… the kind used to transport air-to-surface unguided rockets.
Time seemed to advance in extremely slow motion as Jim watched the socks sail across the open hangar. He was aware of intense enemy gunfire, some aimed in his direction. In his peripheral vision he saw bright flashes from the muzzles of rifles being fired, and he saw Magnum’s body convulse as a bullet plowed through his left shoulder.
Then, as the two U.S.-Government-issue socks came to rest, there was the expected explosion followed immediately by a second, much larger blast. A heavy wall of hot air slammed into Jim, knocking him to the floor.
Looking up, he saw that more than half of the enemy troops were down and not moving. It was a massive explosion, much larger than could be accounted for by just the two pounds of plastic explosive.
The C4 had set off a sympathetic explosion of other ordinance in the armory… just as he had hoped. Better lucky than good, Jim thought.
Dropping the rifle from his shoulder, Jim rolled into a prone position and joined the firefight. The Chinese commandos, along with the SGIT sold
iers, had never let up. Now that the odds were more even, the battle slowly began to turn in the direction of Captain Wu’s force aided by the small SGIT team.
Each man was well trained and disciplined, and they remained focused on aiming and shooting rather than reacting to the near misses peppering around them.
One by one, the bad guys were falling—mostly wounded, but many dead. Still, the half dozen survivors fought on tenaciously and showed no sign of giving up.
The armored helicopter easily survived the armory explosion and protected Colonel Ming, who was sitting in the co-pilot’s seat. The pilot pushed the engines almost to the point of failure as they were warming up to their required operating temperature.
Realizing that Ming would escape—perhaps for good—if the helicopter got airborne, Captain Wu seized his last opportunity. Eying a control panel on the far wall of the hangar, beyond the nose of the gunship, Wu reasoned it housed the electrical controls that manipulated the overhead retractable roof section.
The section was nearing fully open. The pilot did not wait for the elevator to lift the aircraft to ground level and began to pull up on the collective lever while maintaining maximum power. The helicopter slowly lifted from the concrete floor, a near-gale of wind blasting out from underneath the rotors while it began to ascend toward the opening. In another two or three seconds, Wu estimated, the opening would be sufficiently wide to allow the gunship, with Colonel Ming aboard, to escape.
Aiming with great concentration, Wu fired single shots at the control panel. He did not have ammunition to waste. The first bullet struck the metal box, but nothing happened; the overhead door was still opening. Wu fired again… nothing… again he fired, and this time there was a small cluster of sparks as the bullet pierced the metal electrical box.
The overhead door ground to a halt, just short of being fully opened. But the pilot kept ascending toward the shaft of daylight. For a moment, the men thought they had lost, that Ming would escape. But just as it looked like the helicopter would slip out the opening into clear skies, a rotor blade nicked the retractable door, and in an instant the entire rotor assembly exploded into chunks of metal, hurled throughout the hangar at phenomenal velocity.
