“Where’s that?” Adler asked, looking underneath the canvas.
“Asked Kwan to take us as close to the Consulate as possible, to a place where we’d have good surveillance. That may mean ‘camping’ on a roof.”
“Gotta be more comfortable than a shitload of places we’ve been, sir,” Stalley smiled.
The right side of Grant’s mouth curved up. “Roger that, Doc. Look, make sure you’ve all got enough water. There should be more in the barrel.”
“Uh, Skipper?”
“Yeah, Joe.”
“Don’t you think we should contact Mullins? Maybe the White House should cancel the trip.”
Grant shook his head. “I don’t think we can chance transmitting. The ChiComs have gotta be listening, especially now. But if we can’t succeed in finding our guys and the plutonium by tomorrow, then we’ll try a to find a way to transmit.
“In the meantime, let’s hope somebody in D.C. intercepts a transmission from the ChiComs. Or maybe the satellites will pick up something. I just don’t want to give up.”
“None of us do, Skipper.”
James leaned forward. “What if we try to get into the Consulate? They’ve gotta have communications set up by now.”
“I don’t know if you remember when the Russians built the new U.S. Embassy in Moscow, DJ. They ‘accidentally’ hid little bugs everywhere.”
“I see your point.”
The truck was slowing to a crawl, then it stopped. Kwan put it into reverse then backed up. The tires rolled over uneven ground, shaking the bed of the truck. Kwan parked at the end of a very narrow alley but kept the engine running.
He rushed to the back, and lifted a corner of the canvas. “You stay here in the alley while I move the truck.”
Grant jumped out first, slinging his rucksack over his shoulder, with the other men following. It started raining, but at least it wasn’t a downpour. They backed up close to the second house, trying to stay dry.
On either side of an alley that was barely seven feet wide, were long rows of very dilapidated homes, all attached, one or two stories high. Some had windows with shutters hanging lopsided from their hinges, some were boarded up. Glass had been shattered in others.
The exteriors were discolored gray brick, cracked and chipped. Electrical wires were strung horizontally from house to house, and back and forth to homes on the opposite side. From ground level it was impossible for the men to recognize how old this part of Shanghai was. It was like a city forgotten, with alley after alley, row upon row of abandoned homes.
Within ten minutes Kwan came rushing back. “Hurry,” he said looking around.
The Team followed him to the opposite end of the alleyway when he finally stopped by a weathered brown door on the end house. It was two stories with one window on both the first and second floor. The house in front of it, across the alley, was one story. They only hoped it would give them a good view.
Kwan immediately opened the door, waving the Team inside, then he quietly shut the door, just as the rain stopped.
The lower level was one room, barely twelve by twenty, no furnishings of any kind. The window was closed off by shutters, but most of the slats were broken.
“Come upstairs,” Kwan whispered, leading the men to the second floor. “Be careful where you step,” he warned. “Some of the steps and floorboards in the center of the room might be weak.”
The men took out penlights from their chest vests, trying to shed some light on the stairs, trying to determine where not to step. Recent rains left dark stains in several spots on ceiling and floor. Mildew crept up all four walls, patterned in the shape of irregular graphs. A musty odor permeated the air.
After stashing their gear against a wall, the men gathered near Grant, as he asked Kwan, “Anybody living in these places? They look pretty rundown.”
Kwan shook his head. “Before construction was started on the Consulate, a three-block radius was designated ‘uninhabitable’ by the government. It was expected that these would have been demolished by now.”
“You sure have a lot of knowledge about Shanghai,” Grant commented, suspiciously.
“Research. I had to, for my assignment.”
“I see,” Grant answered, nodding slowly. He swiveled his head, as he examined the room. “I don’t see any equipment, so I take it you don’t live here.”
“No. My house is across town. I’ve only used this place for surveillance. I never had any special equipment. All I used were binoculars.”
“Surveillance?” Grant asked.
“Sure. While the building was under construction, I had orders to watch who was coming and going, then report anything suspicious. It was safer from here than trying to observe from anywhere outside.”
“I see,” Grant said, as he walked to a small front window. “I assume that’s the Consulate over there.”
Kwan leaned toward the window. “Yes. The main entry is through double doors in the front.”
The white concrete building was situated across the road at eleven o’clock. There weren’t any windows at the back for security reasons. The grounds surrounding it still didn’t have grass, but patches of green were starting to appear.
Grant noticed the house across the alley was low, and had a flat, wooden roof. Much of it had caved in due to heavy rain and decay. It was low enough to not inhibit any view of the Consulate. But any view of the street was impossible.
“What about outside access to the roof? Any?” Grant asked turning his attention to the Consulate.
“I’ve seen workers on the roof. They must be using a fire escape on the west side.”
“What about this place?” Adler asked, as he circled a finger overhead. “This one window won’t help much for surveillance.”
Kwan shook his head. “They weren’t concerned much about safety when these places were built.”
Grant turned to Novak, and motioned to the window. “Mike, post yourself here.”
“I’ll get my gear, Boss.”
Grant looked at James. “I don’t know if we’ll have any luck, DJ, but get the ‘shotgun’ mike. We’ve gotta try everything.”
James nodded, “Aye, aye, sir. Oops! That just sorta slipped out,” he winked.
A “shotgun” mike resembled a long tube. It was about eighteen inches in length, had a wire running from the handle to an earpiece, and the opposite end had a “sight.” A collapsible dish opened around the mike in order to capture more sound.
The only sounds in the room came from Novak as he attached the tripod to his rifle, and James preparing the “shotgun” mike.
Grant hooked his thumbs in his waistband and started walking the room. Adler caught up to him. “Wanna talk about anything, Skipper?”
“We’re wasting time, Joe.”
Adler lowered his head momentarily. “Yeah, but maybe we’ll catch a break. Look, if what you suspect is true, maybe our guys are close.” Trying to be encouraging, he pointed and said, “Shit! They could be in that building for Christ’s sake! And if that’s the case, that damn ‘shotgun’ mike should hear something.”
“Like maybe a gnat’s fart?” Grant smiled, as he unhooked his canteen from his belt.
“Damn straight!”
“We’ve got movement, Boss,” Novak reported.
“Where? How many?” Grant asked on his way to the window.
“Consulate grounds. Deuce,” Novak answered, focusing the scope.
Adler lowered his NVGs, then handed Kwan a Starlighter. “Do you recognize them?”
After readjusting the focus, Kwan kept the scope trained on the two men. “No, but I was never here long enough. It’s not likely any workers would be here this time of night.”
“I don’t even see a generator, unless there’s one on the other side,” Adler commented. “And what about guards?”
“I’ve never seen any outside. I can’t say about inside. I don’t know if the power’s even been turned on.”
“Doesn’t make sense,�
�� Adler mumbled. “That’s U.S. territory on foreign soil.”
“You must remember,” Kwan said, “this is China. There usually aren’t problems with break-ins. And for now, the only thing to protect is the building itself.”
“I say again--this is U.S. territory. Skipper! Maybe we need to check inside, or at least take a look. I think we should take the chance.”
Grant put a hand out. “Let me have that,” he said to Kwan, then he looked through the Starlighter. “Right now, Joe, I’m more interested in those two trespassers.”
Adler wasn’t about to let it go. “One quick look, Skipper. That’s all it’ll take.”
Grant lowered the scope, hesitating before he said, “Okay, but you stay here. Ken, Frank, make a quick recon. Check if there’re any guards inside. You’ve got ten minutes.”
Grant turned his focus again to the two men. “They’re wearing Mao-type jacket and pants. Those are pretty typical for civilians, right?”
“Yes. Black or blue is the most common,” Kwan responded.
Grant continued watching the two men as they walked toward the rear of the Consulate. They stayed close to the building itself, obviously trying to remain hidden. “Can anybody see if they’re packin’?”
“Those jackets are too loose to tell if they’re hiding anything underneath,” Adler commented.
Grant continued to stay focused on the two men, as he asked James, “DJ, any luck with the mike?”
James pressed a finger against the earpiece, while he aimed the mike toward the Consulate. “Negative.”
Ten minutes later, Grant heard Slade in his earpiece, “Four-One comin’ in.”
Grant went near the top of the stairs. “Well?”
“Couldn’t get a good look, Boss, but there was someone walking around; seemed to be checking rooms. Didn’t look like there was full power, though. Lighting was limited.”
Grant nodded. “That’ll have to be good enough.” He turned again toward James. “Anything yet, DJ?”
“Negative.”
“Gotta chance it,” Grant mumbled.
“Are you planning on going down?” Adler asked with surprise.
“If those two leave, I wanna know where they’re headed.”
“But you said. . .”
“I know what I said, Joe. As long as it’s dark, we should be able to follow them.”
Grant handed the scope back to Kwan. “Keep watching those two.” As he was adjusting the throat mike, he said, “DJ, you stay here with Mike. Ken, Frank, Doc, come with us.” He drew his .45 from the holster.
As everyone started heading to the stairs, Novak called in a loud whisper, “Boss! We’ve got separation of parties.”
Grant rushed back to the window, taking the Starlighter from Kwan. Standing behind Novak, Grant finally focused on one of the men, who was at the far corner of the building. “Don’t see the other guy, Mike,” Grant said as he moved the scope.
“He ducked around the side of the building. Wait one! Hello! He must’ve used the fire escape. I can just see his head ‘breaching’ the top of the building now.”
“I see him,” Grant said. “Joe, watch the guy below.”
The man on the fire escape scanned the area, then he finally crawled onto the roof. Maintaining a low profile, he stayed along the outer edge as he made his way to the front.
Adler kept himself focused on the second man, when something caught his eye. “Skipper, the guy’s gotta be packin’. Looks like he’s adjusting a side holster.”
Grant and Novak continued watching the man on the roof, who was now standing up, walking cautiously down the length of the Consulate.
“He’s pacing it off,” Grant said quietly. It was time for a change in plans. “DJ, take Joe’s place over here. You and Mike keep an eye on those two.” He tapped Kwan on the shoulder. “Over here,” he said as he walked away from the window. Grant was already feeling guilty and responsible for getting Kwan involved. If the agent’s cover was blown, the CIA would blame him. Even though Kwan didn’t realize it, Grant was trying to protect him.
Once they were all together, Grant looked at Kwan. “We’re gonna follow those men. I want you to stay here.”
“I told you before. . .”
Trying to keep his voice barely above a hoarse whisper, Grant said, “Fuck your deliveries! With the shit that’s already happened, and about to happen, your ass will be a helluva lot safer here.” He poked Kwan in the chest. “Think about it.”
Slade walked up behind Kwan and leaned close. “Or, we can put you in the lead, you know, you can play ‘pointman.’ I sure as hell won’t mind.” He intentionally bumped Kwan’s shoulder as he walked past him.
Grant took a deep breath, then decided reasoning might work. “Look. We may need you to translate. Understand?”
“Yeah. I understand,” Kwan answered.
“Wait a minute! Didn’t you tell your contact you’d be with us?”
“I’m still supposed to check in. The Agency wants to be kept informed.”
Grant was running out of patience. “The ChiComs are just waiting for you to transmit. Maybe you’d better think about what they’ll do if they find you.” Tired of the bullshit, Grant turned away. Adjusting his earpiece, he asked Novak, “Are they still in sight, Mike?”
“Yeah. But the guy on the roof is heading back toward the fire escape.”
Grant nodded. “Just keep watching.” He pointed to Slade and Diaz. “Ken, you and Frank will follow the UFs. The rest of us will try and stay parallel to you the next alley over just in case.”
“Roger that,” Slade responded.
With their NVGs in place and weapons drawn, the five men were ready. Grant gave the go ahead. “Let’s move.”
Chapter 13
They had hardly stepped outside, when rain began pounding buildings and streets, falling so heavily it was almost as dense as fog. It cascaded off rooftops, flooding alleys, carrying away anything in its path. Sounds of already weakened roofs could be heard cracking, collapsing from the constant pressure.
For Grant and the Team they were defenseless against the elements. Drenched from head to toe, they slogged through running water in pursuit of the two suspicious men. If it weren’t for the NVGs, Slade and Diaz would’ve lost sight of the two when the downpour started. The glasses helped to filter out the rain, giving them clear vision ahead.
After wiping dripping water away from his mouth, Grant pressed the PTT. “Four-One, Zero-Niner.”
“Go ahead, Zero-Niner,” Slade responded.
“You still have eyes on UFs?”
“Affirm. No deviation in course.”
“Copy that. Out.”
Just as suddenly as the downpour started, it began to let up, then stopped within seconds.
After nearly fifteen minutes of walking, Slade called Grant. “Zero-Niner, Four-One.”
“Go ahead, Four-One.”
“UFs inside.”
“Copy that. Hold position. A.T. approaching at your six.”
“Roger. Four-One holding position.”
“Zero-Niner, out.”
Grant, Adler and Stalley hustled across one alley, then down the side alley. Leaning his head past the corner of the building, Grant saw Slade and Diaz. He motioned with his arm for Adler and Stalley to follow him. Running alongside the old houses, they caught up to the two men.
Slade walked back to Grant, whispering, “They’re in the group of houses directly across from us, second one from the right.”
The house was a two story, as were the houses on either side. They all appeared to be in the same rundown condition.
Grant went to the opposite side of the narrow alley, easing himself along the building, until he reached the corner, where he finally had a better view of the target. One door plus one window on first floor, one window on second floor. It was the same type house they used for surveillance of the Consulate.
Questions still remained: How many men were inside? Where were they located? And where
were the SEALs? Grant was betting they were on the second floor.
Leaning back, he closed his eyes, trying to get his thoughts in order. Then, he joined the other men.
He said quietly, “Doc, you go with Ken in case our guys need you. Both of you go around the back. See if there’s access into any of those buildings, even roof access. Make it quick.” The two men gave a nod.
Grant, Adler, and Diaz took up positions close to the end of the building, aiming their weapons. “Go!” Grant whispered.
Slade and Stalley turned and ran back down the alley. Even though the windows on the target were behind shutters, they couldn’t take the chance. Somebody could be watching. Their plan was to go two blocks over then make their approach.
Suddenly, they all heard James in their earpieces. “Zero-Niner, Six-Eight!”
“Go ahead, Six-Eight.”
“Guest has departed!” James called as he was racing down the stairs.
Grant pressed on his earpiece, not believing what he was hearing. “Say again, Six-Eight!”
“Guest has departed! Wait one!”
Opening the door slowly, James poked his head out, looking both ways down the alley. Too late. Kwan had disappeared. James ducked back into the house. “Lost him!”
Grant tilted his head back, banging it against the wall in total frustration and anger before he responded, “Copy that, Six-Eight. Hold position. Zero-Niner, out.”
Adler and Diaz moved closer. In the next alley, Slade and Stalley came to a standstill, both of them shaking their heads. Everyone waited for Grant to make a decision.
His decision was a no-brainer--find the SEALs. If Kwan wanted to contact the Agency, there wasn’t a damn thing the Team could do about it. The concern was whether that transmission would be intercepted by the ChiComs--with the real possibility they’d locate Kwan.
The men had to get their asses in gear, for two important reasons: If Kwan was captured, he could ‘spill’ his guts. And second, daylight was approaching.
Grant gave the order. “A.T. Proceed as planned. Go!”
Slade and Stalley nodded to each other. Taking one last look down both ends of the street, and seeing that no one was outside the house, they took off.
Shanghai Mission Page 9
