by Fritz Galt
Hey, old Xen-hat. How the heck are ya? Dare I still hope you might be part of some bad dream?
A dream within a dream within a dream.
Hey, nothing matters now, ’cause I got my gal. Who could ask for anything more?
Happiness you feel, and that is good. But remember there is a time to stand firm and a time to fly.
Yeah, I’m flyin’ now, friend. Even with multiple personality disorder. Just don’t ask me to kill people in order to impress Jodie Foster, okay?
“Hey, what’s with the stupid grin, comrade?” Earl whispered to him. “Care to share the joke with the rest of the class?”
“Oh, I was just thinking how things are working out. General Chen told us that the Central Committee survived, May got her father, Dr. Yu has his discovery, and—”
“—and you’re thinking about getting laid,” Earl said under his breath, completing Brad’s thoughts for him.
“Will you shut up?” he shouted, and flapped the back of his hand into Earl’s face.
“Boys,” May scolded. “Please do make quiet, or I shall have to come back there and punish the naughty doers.”
Something felt familiar about the situation, but Brad couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Hey, our May made a joke! Alright!” Earl cheered.
But Brad had begun to experience that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach again. What was bugging him?
“But serious,” May shouted above the jeep’s noisy engine. “We must get away quickly. For until the committee resumes supreme authority, Liang still has much power in the military.”
She swerved onto a crossroad that led to the hangar where Brad had run into Jade.
The sight of the two fighter jets made Brad antsy. “May, do we have to get into one of those things?”
“We will be safe out of the country,” she said. “Liang will be too busy just to survive to trouble us.”
He hoped she was right.
They pulled into the hangar, and May returned a salute from a guard who stood staring at the destruction to the dam. The two delta-wing fighter jets were still waiting to be used.
Brad sucked in his breath and watched May in action. First, she ordered the guard to summon a pilot from the ready room. Then she inspected the two birds while Earl filled him in on the details. They were called Chengdu J-10s, styled after American F-16s, but with a Russian turbojet engine. Next, she distributed helmets to all members of the group.
Finally, she directed Brad and Dr. Yu into the first jet. They were to fly with her. The other pilot would take Earl and Sullivan.
Brad watched her climb up the ladder and hike her dress up over her thighs in order to climb into the cockpit. He followed without further protest.
“What the…?” he said when he reached the top. “There are only two seats up here.”
“I know,” she said from the front seat. “You shall have to share.”
Chapter 35
Liang had been waiting impatiently for fifteen minutes in the interrogation room. Finally a key began to open the locked door. But whose key? Pure adrenaline coursed through his veins.
Then the door sprang open. “Commander Liang?”
It was his most trusted adjutant.
Liang dropped the shard of glass he had been holding at the ready. “I’m here.” He let the tension drain from his muscles. “Has anybody seen the American spies?”
“What spies?”
He pulled the young officer with him out of the room. “Which way did Commander Yu May Hua go?”
“There. Toward that hangar.”
As Liang had suspected, May was instinctively turning to the air to make her escape. He headed for the troop carrier he had ordered. “Let’s follow the American spies.”
He manned the wheel, and the young soldier jumped in beside him.
He put the truck in gear, and they lurched across the field and runways toward the hangar. He could hear conversation and the clicking of rifles coming from a half-dozen special forces troops who sat behind him in the canvas-covered bed of the truck.
Back there would also be a most valuable package they had captured.
The transport would have plenty of room for all the prisoners he planned to collect and deliver to the military justice system. Regrettably, some would be shot trying to resist. He already knew very well who would be riding back in body bags.
Despite all the destruction to his dam, he was feeling hopeful. The major part of his plan was still intact. The president was gone and the Central Committee was entombed in a watery grave. His heroic capture of American spies was a dividend he could use to great advantage. The military, and indeed the country, would turn to him in need and gratitude.
The only one who could still undermine him was, ironically, the woman he loved. May would try to leave the country to protect her pathetic American boy toy and to try to discredit Liang for his role in China’s—what did the Americans call it—regime change.
All he had to do was to catch her in the act of fleeing with that spy from the interrogation room. In the end, the story would be one of his foiling the plans of a scheming lover. The whole incident smacked of intervention by an America that was jealous of China’s growing economic clout. Liang’s fiancée had enabled the breach in security at the dam. Fortunately, he was fast enough on his feet to uncover her treachery in time. And to his everlasting credit, he was willing to turn her in, no matter how much it broke his heart.
There was enough truth to the story to incense a military tribunal, outrage the public, and cause Chinese operas to be written about him.
“May, this is crazy,” Brad pointed out. “There simply isn’t enough room in the cockpit.”
Dr. Yu called up from below, “I don’t mind sharing, as long as I can sit on somebody’s lap.”
That did it. “We are not getting into these planes.”
“Brad, I have special friends in the Thai Air Force. We can easily sneak across the border.”
“It’s not the border I’m concerned about. It’s getting in a plane with that psycho chasing us again. For once I’d like to settle this man-to-man.”
“Brad, you are very brave, but he is a highly skilled fighter and would with most probability kill you.”
“You’re going to have to trust me on this. If we get in this plane, he will kill us all.”
“Relax, Brad,” Sullivan called up from below. “May is a seasoned pilot. She can get us all out of harm’s way until the situation stabilizes.”
“Yeah, ya knucklehead,” came Earl from the other cockpit. “I know you’ve had some bad crack-ups, but May knows her stuff. Besides, I’ve always wanted to ride in one of these babies.”
“No. You guys are making a big mistake,” Brad insisted, and started to back down the ladder. “I refuse to fly.”
“Look, is this another one of your voodoo magic moments?” Earl asked. “Just sit on it until we get out of here. Save it for when we don’t have a Chinese death squad after us.”
“Too late. Chinese death squad already here.” Dr. Yu pointed out the hangar.
Brad looked up. Sure enough, a troop carrier had just pulled into view. The olive drab truck slowed down and approached the two planes with caution. Its hulking presence created an ominous silence.
“Listen,” Sullivan said. “It’s not too late for at least one plane to get off the ground. May, take Brad and your father. I’ll stay here and distract the soldiers while Earl can sneak off and blend in with the other foreigners.”
Brad hesitated. Was he being unreasonable? It would be a heck of a lot easier just to fly out of the mess. But what about that dream of his? The way things had been going, he couldn’t really afford to ignore such a blatant message. Or could he? Was he going nuts or what?
Then suddenly an idea hit him straight between the eyes. It was his first tactical, militaristic idea, so he was very excited.
“May, stay in the cockpit and wait for my signal.”
“I wi
ll not leave you behind.”
“Just trust me.” He was surprised by the calm in his voice.
“Oh no. This doesn’t sound good,” Earl said, and climbed down from his plane. “Why can’t you learn to take charge when there’s a cat up a tree, or an old lady to shuffle across a street?”
“For the first time, good buddy, I know exactly what I’m doing. Here, hold this.” He handed Earl the bag of bones. “And take the good anthropologist and kindly secret agent into the offices at the back of the hangar. This could get ugly.”
“Come on, Skitowsky. Let’s go,” Sullivan said. “I think I see where he’s going with this.”
The extra pilot looked to May for instructions. She tilted her head for him and the sentry to follow the others and added a curt order to them in Chinese.
“Just make sure you turn on those cannons,” Brad whispered to her.
She nodded and reluctantly settled into her seat.
Then he turned his attention to the truck. It was heading directly for him.
He strolled out of the hangar, found a comfortable spot on the tarmac and sat down. The guns on May’s jets were pointed just over his head and straight at the vehicle.
“Is he crazy, or what?” Earl whispered to Sullivan and the scientist.
“He seems most courageous to me,” Dr. Yu said. “I only hope he is more like the willow than the oak.”
“What? Oh, yeah. I get it,” Earl said with a nod. “Supple enough to bend with the wind and survive the mighty storm.”
“No, the willow has more foliage for cover.”
“I pity the poor fools in that truck,” Sullivan said. “If Brad can’t keep them distracted long enough, May will mow them down with the push of a button.”
Earl was confused. “Keep them distracted for what?”
“For that,” Sullivan said, and pointed at the second pilot, who was adjusting a headset and talking urgently into a radio transmitter.
Chapter 36
Brad sat cross-legged on the hard tarmac, his lower lip thrust forward. Little did his Chinese counterpart know that he had an ace up his sleeve.
The large truck with its enclosed cargo bed pulled up just short of him. Sure enough, it was Liang who stepped out of the cab. The guy shifted his muscles around under his business suit and looked half-curious and half-satisfied to see the American sitting before him.
“Welcome, comrade,” Brad said. “I would advise you to stay right where you are and not invite any others out of the vehicle.”
“You’re in no position to give me orders.”
Brad raised a hand as a signal. Several bursts of cannon fire screamed past both sides of the truck.
Damn, that was loud. Brad casually rubbed a finger in each ear.
“Sorry, but my friend has an itchy trigger finger. So you might want to put a sock in it and do what I say, shit-for-brains!”
That was rather harsh.
Oh, who cares? The guy’s a total jagoff. He didn’t think he could hate anyone more than his stepfather, but this guy proved him wrong.
Hatred will not help you survive this final test.
There was a test? Hey, he didn’t see that on the syllabus.
A group of special forces commandos jumped out of the rear of the truck. But when they reached the front, Liang motioned them back inside.
“I think I have something that will help resolve this little conflict,” Liang said.
“Gee, the only thing I could think of would be you in shackles wearing an orange jumpsuit and picking up trash along the Jersey Turnpike.” Liang’s confidence was beginning to unnerve him. “But somehow, I don’t think that’s what you had in mind.”
“American humor. Just a front for your insecurity,” Liang said. Then he barked some commands in Chinese.
Brad heard feet scuffling behind the truck, then two commandos wrestled a woman forward in a red jumpsuit. They held her by her arms and shoulders while she struggled. Her wrists were held by plastic tie binders. She was tightly gagged with an oil rag.
One of the commandos grabbed her by the hair and pulled her face up for Brad to see. He knew her at once. It was his guardian angel.
Jade Wang struggled briefly until being backhanded across the face by one of the soldiers.
“Here’s the woman who tried to destroy the dam and killed Professor Richter instead,” Liang said. “Maybe you don’t mind shooting the one who murdered your father.”
Brad stood up. Richter was dead? What had gotten him in the end? A bullet? The fall? He wished he could have been there when Richter faced his final fate. Had his bravado failed him in the end?
He had a whole new respect for Jade. If Liang so much as touched a hair on her head… He was about to shout some obscenity, then caught himself.
Very good.
So Liang had an ace up his own sleeve. Brad just stared at the man he hated. The guy anticipated things just like him. He forced himself to calm down completely. He had composure on his side, but did Liang?
He let out a casual, “You know, a real man wouldn’t need a woman to hide behind.”
“That’s very easy talk for someone who has a pair of 23-millimeter twin-barrel cannons covering him.”
Good point. So they were even.
“I’ll drop the cannons if you let Jade go,” Brad said.
“Tell you what. You and your fellow spies surrender, and I’ll take mercy on you and let you live to stand trial. Otherwise, Jade will die most painfully.”
Brad puffed out his chest. “Well, if that be the case, line up all your toy soldiers. I’ll give the order to blast you all to pieces and at least Jade will die quickly.”
“Ha! More tough talk from the American. You haven’t got the stomach to kill. You’re weak like all your fat, lazy and spoiled countrymen.”
Okay, it was one thing for Brad to criticize his fellow Americans, but he wasn’t about to take it from Liang.
“Then what are you afraid of?” Brad shot back. “Let’s end this Mexican standoff and decide the matter by hand. Unless, of course, you don’t want to get whupped.”
Man, this wasn’t going well. Where was Xen-het?
May glared at Liang through the jet’s windscreen. She couldn’t hear a word he or Brad said, but the body language didn’t look promising.
Then a young officer began pulling Jade by the hair back into the truck. She recognized him. It was the same adjutant who had handed her the cell phone with the call from Liang.
She should have ordered the young man arrested back by the dam when she had the chance. Now he was disappearing behind the truck with poor Jade.
This was not heading in a good direction. No matter what arguments Brad could muster, it was a no-win situation unless help arrived soon.
But she dared not leave the plane in case the soldiers launched themselves out of the truck again.
She glanced back to where the second pilot had disappeared with the others. She needed Brad to stall Liang just a little while longer.
The only thing he really cared about, Liang admitted freely to himself, was saving his own skin. He could pull strings or use the right amount of implied threat to negotiate with any man. But the biggest variable in the equation was Bradley’s unbalanced mind. A lunatic who didn’t mind sacrificing himself could not see reason.
Perhaps the only choice boiled down to Bradley’s suggestion for a fight.
He removed his suit coat and threw it into the cab of the truck. Then he sauntered half the distance to Bradley and rolled up his sleeves. The prospect of killing the young man with his bare hands was particularly irresistible at the moment.
Over his shoulder, he called out an order in Chinese. “If something happens to me, kill the girl and attack whomever is in that plane.”
He noticed that Bradley was giving him a curious look, so he offered a translation with a slight variation in emphasis. “I just told them to shoot Miss Wang in the head if you try any tricks.”
The young American du
sted off the seat of his pants and wiped his hands. Then he ambled over so close, Liang could smell his damp armpits.
“I never could understand bullies,” Bradley told him, “until I realized that they’re just scared little babies on the inside. I mean, it takes a real coward to beat on a helpless woman and a tiny little twerp with no manhood to order someone to do it for him. So, what’s your story? Mother rejected you at birth, right?”
Memories of his life in boarding school with infrequent visits by his father flashed through Liang’s mind. He had spent his entire childhood and young adulthood pouring over books and befriending the illegitimate offspring of other party elite, trying every way possible to avoid facing his father’s cold demeanor. Who knew how many other children his dad had fathered?
And Bradley was right about his mother. Liang was an extra child in a country that allowed only one child per family. His mother had vanished the day he was born, perhaps to service the needs of other high party officials. Her behavior was as unlawful as his existence.
Hatred boiled up from the internal furnace of his soul. He would not tolerate such talk about himself. So he launched into a ferocious attack on the insolent American.
Fall now! Brad’s spirit guide screamed in his head.
Brad didn’t wait to ask why. He dropped at once to the concrete tarmac. And he was glad he did.
Liang spun toward him with a full roundhouse followed by his foot. Brad felt the whoosh of the clenched fist and flying foot cut through the air just above his head.
Liang came to rest with a bewildered look on his face.
That was lucky. Brad made a mental note to thank Xen.
Then a smirk appeared on Liang’s face. “Was that skill or was it dumb luck?”
“Pure skill,” Brad answered from his crouched position.
“Good,” Liang said, as if pleased to find a worthy opponent. “That will bring even more pleasure to my kill.”
Brad saw that Liang stood flatfooted. It was his chance. From his crouched position, he kicked for Liang’s closest foot, but it just seemed to float away from his strike.
