The drone had been launched just before sunrise, in the hope that if an Allied sniper was present, the counter snipers could nail him before he fired. That effort failed.
But once the Allied trigger was pulled, the sudden flare of heat was enough to reveal the marksman’s position to detectors positioned on the other side of the valley. And after the rotary wing drone captured video of the dead body Tong would have something to show Major Wang.
Would the attacks continue? Maybe. But Tong felt confident there would be less of them. The laborers had been herded back into formation by then. The march continued--eyes on the ground. Left, right, left right. And there, sprawled on the highway, were half a dozen bodies.
Soldiers were in the process of dragging the civilian corpses over to the precipice. A young woman went first. Tong winced as she disappeared. Chairman Lau was right. The Allied soldiers were monsters.
Tunnel Five, of the Nepal Railway Corporation’s K-Line, Nepal
After replacing Beagle-Five’s battery pack, Lee and Private Kilbur Rai returned to the tunnel, where they learned of Mahto’s death.
When the Gurkha failed to call in Staff Sergeant Thapa went out to find him, and while checking the sniper’s hide through night glasses, spotted two Chinese soldiers hidden nearby. A trap had been set.
The Gurkha waited for one the men to bed down, made his way to the enemy position, and slaughtered the lookout with his kukri. The second soldier died in his sleep.
With that accomplished Thapa made his way to Mahto’s hide only to discover that the body had been removed and an IED had been left in its place.
Thapa withdrew at that point and returned to the tunnel. That’s why there was nothing but long faces when Lee and Rai returned. A memorial service was scheduled for two days hence. A time when the maximum number of people would be present in the tunnel.
After giving his condolences to the Gurkhas who happened to be present, Lee went looking for Kwan, but couldn’t find her. Evers delivered the news. “The colonel got a message from Major Raj in Trishul. According to an Indian agent a group of Uyghurs are hiding near the village of Poha. And some of them require medical attention.
“So, the colonel sent the doc plus two Gurkhas to help. Maybe, if we play it right, we can enlist some locals in the resistance effort.”
Lee could hardly complain since that was the sort of mission green berets were known for. Their motto was “De Oppresso Liber.” (To Free the Oppressed.) And green beret doctors were trained to deal with situations like the one in Poha. But emergency room physicians from Chicago weren’t. And Lee couldn’t help but worry about Kwan.
Despite Lee’s concerns, Kwan and her bodyguards returned the next night. And a memorial service was held shortly thereafter. The Gurkhas, Jangchup, and Binsa circled the area carrying sticks to symbolize the grief that left them in need of support.
That was followed by prayers called Sutras, such scant offerings as were available, and the ringing of a bell that had been hanging in one of the train cars. Lama Jangchup recited the service from memory. “The Buddha said:
‘Life is a journey.
Death is a return to earth.
The universe is like an inn.
The passing years are like dust.
Regard this phantom world
As a star at dawn, a bubble in a stream,
A flash of lightning in a summer cloud,
A flickering lamp – a phantom – and a dream.’”
Though not a Buddhist himself, Lee thought the words were beautiful, and was glad that they were taking time to remember Mahto.
Colonel Smith-Peet spoke after that, and movingly too, about Gurkhas and their tradition of service. “We are,” he concluded, “both privileged and honored to have served with Lance Corporal, now Corporal Ganju Mahto. It will be my privilege to submit his name to The Royal Gurkha Rifles, along with a request that he be awarded the Military Cross.”
Light applause was followed by all manner of Corporal Mahto stories as Smith-Peet passed a bottle of whiskey around. Some of the anecdotes were funny. So people laughed, and the healing began.
PLA Special Forces Compound 12, Nepal
Tong was halfway through his morning exercise regime when the summons arrived. The private popped to attention. He was right out of advanced training and stood ramrod straight. “Sir! Major Wang requests your presence, sir!”
A bar bell had been fashioned from an axle welded to a couple of truck wheels. There was a clang as it hit the floor. Tong sighed. What now? he wondered. Didn’t Wang have any other officers he could jerk around?
Tong eyed the private. “Thanks. Let him know I’ll be there after I take a shower.”
“Sir! Yes, sir!” Then the private performed a textbook about face and marched away. There were other men in the makeshift weight room. They laughed.
It took twenty minutes to shower and don a clean uniform. A short walk brought Tong to the main building where a corporal checked his ID and a sergeant waved him through.
Wang, as it turned out, was in a pissy mood. “Good morning, Captain. I’m glad you could fit me into your demanding schedule.”
Tong was used to Wang’s ways by then and remained impassive. “Good morning. What can I do for you?”
“You can roust your men out of their bunks, climb some mountains, and find the rest of these,” Wang said as he pointed to the tripod mounted screen that stood next to his desk.
“And what, if I may ask, is it?” Tong inquired.
“It’s an Allied Portable Ground Surveillance Radar, that’s been spying on us for days, if not weeks. A patrol came across this one and brought it back. And, if there’s one, you can assume there are more. They are sending real-time data regarding our convoys and troop movements to the Allies around the clock. Colonel Xu is angry. Very angry. And wants to know how we could miss such units. Never mind the fact that he’s sitting on his ass in one of Kathmandu’s best hotels while we live in this shithole.”
That was the first time Tong had heard Wang openly criticize a superior officer and took it as a sign of how angry he was. “Yes, sir. How will my men and I know which mountains to climb?”
“Now that we know what to look for an all-out effort to find the radars is underway. We’re using detectors, drones and helicopters to find them. And when we do, it will be your job to bring them in. So, get ready.” Tong tossed a salute, received one in return, and went looking for Sergeant Shi.
Tunnel Five, of the Nepal Railway Corporation’s K-Line, Nepal
“Beagle-Nine” is MIA,” Cato said. “And assumed to be in enemy hands.”
Lee was seated on the edge of his bunk in passenger car 4. He’d been asleep. “Shit.”
“I thought you’d want to know.”
“It was inevitable I suppose,” Lee replied. “Does the colonel know?”
“Yeah, he knows,” Cato responded. “All the Gurkhas were recalled.”
“Good. The Chinese will be hunting for the PGSRs day and night. It was good while it lasted. Is that it?”
“No,” Cato replied. “I can’t raise the medical team. That’s the real reason I woke you up.”
Lee felt something cold trickle into his veins. Kwan and two Gurkhas had gone out to hold a popup sick call in a nearby village. “Nearby” meaning about 10 miles away. Lee was dressed. He bent to recover his boots. “I’ll go.”
Cato nodded. “I figured you would.”
Was the other green beret aware of Lee’s feelings for Kwan? Probably. And Lee didn’t give a shit. “I’ll take two men.”
“Pun and Shrestha are getting ready,” Cato replied. Shrestha had recovered from his chest wound by that time and been cleared for a return to duty.
Lee’s patrol pack was always ready. So, all he had to do was gun-up and meet the Gurkhas by the door. Colonel Smith-Peet was there to see them off. He forced a smile. “You know how radios are… Great one minute and worthless the next. Odds are that you’ll run into them on the trail.”
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“Yes, sir,” Lee replied. “We’ll stay in touch.”
Smith-Peet nodded. “See that you do.”
The metal door made a squealing noise as it opened. Snowflakes angled in from above and Lee could see his breath. The night was waiting.
The village of Ty Jata, Nepal
Chinese soldiers held Kwan’s arms while a noncom slapped her face. Her head turned to the right, then to the left, as the man struck her again. “Who are you?” he demanded.
The words were in accented English which indicated that the soldier was aware of Kwan’s nationality and that made sense. One of the residents of Ty Jata was a Chinese informer. That’s why a platoon of soldiers was waiting when the team arrived. Kunar and Pun fought bravely. But the Gurkhas were badly outnumbered and soon overwhelmed.
Kwan was left untouched. Why? Because the enemy knew she was a doctor, an officer, and a potential source of information. That’s why.
Like the rest of the team Kwan was not only out of uniform, but carrying a fake ID. That left her with no protection under international law. Not that the Chinese were likely to observe such niceties. So, all she could do was keep her mouth shut.
But could she? Kwan knew that the slaps were just the beginning. And she was reminded of the abused women she’d treated in the ER, their faces swollen, and their lips bleeding. Now Kwan was experiencing their pain first hand.
“Secure her hands and find a rope,” the noncom said. “We’ll lead the bitch to Major Wang like a dog on a leash.”
A private returned with a length of rope which he tied around Kwan’s neck. “Take her outside,” the noncom ordered. “And bring the headman.”
It was dark outside except for the glare produced by a pair of headlights. Kwan was standing in the village square. Snowflakes whirled around her head as soldiers dragged the village headman out to join her. He was old and wrinkled. “You brought the western bitch into your village,” the noncom said, as he pulled his pistol. “And you will pay.”
“Don’t do it!” Kwan shouted, but it was a waste of breath. The sound of the pistol shot reverberated off village walls and the headman fell.
Kwan wanted to cry but, by an act of will, managed to hold her tears back. Reveal nothing, Kwan told herself. You aren’t a green beret, but you’re an officer, and you can die like one.
“Put the bitch in the truck,” the noncom instructed. “And hold onto the rope. If she escapes you will be sent to a labor battalion.”
The private didn’t want to serve with a labor battalion and hurried to do as he was told.
Kwan was forced to climb into the back of a large truck and sit on a wooden bench. More soldiers piled in. They were talking and laughing as the troop transport jerked into motion.
Unlike Lee, who spoke fluent Mandarin, Kwan had nothing but English and two years of Spanish to rely on. That meant she couldn’t listen in.
But it didn’t take a genius to know that the soldiers were talking about her. Not that it mattered. It was nothing compared to what faced her.
Kwan felt a sudden surge of self-pity. Why her? But, on the other hand why not me? Kwan asked herself. Allied soldiers are dying everywhere. And in spite of what mom and dad said, you’re aren’t that special.
What about Jon? she wondered. How will he react? He’ll come for you, Kwan thought. Or try to. It was a reed. A slender reed. But something to cling to. Kwan felt a sense of warmth.
The village of Ty Jata, Nepal
Unfortunately, Colonel Smith-Peet was proven wrong. Lee, Shrestha and Pun didn’t encounter Kwan and her party on the trail. That made it necessary to approach Ty Jata with great care. Something was up, that much was obvious, since a lot of kerosene lamps were on. Everything looked green.
Lee paused at the edge of the village. The lights were on, but beyond the sound of a barking dog, Ty Jata was silent. Should he proceed along the path? Or look for a less obvious approach? The second option seemed best. His voice was little more than a whisper. “Follow me.”
Lee vaulted over a low fence, passed a chicken coop, and approached the back of a house. Unlike many of the others it was dark. A narrow path led along the south side of the dwelling to the front yard and three junked cars.
A second stone wall separated the first residence from the one beyond. And it was occupied judging from the light within. Lee climbed over the wall, knowing the others would do likewise. Then he raised a hand. “Pun… Go forward and talk to the people in that house. Identify yourself as a Gurkha, and ask for information. If you run into trouble call. We’ll be ready.”
Pun nodded and moved away. The Gurkha moved shadow-to-shadow, arrived at the house, and was careful to put his rifle aside before knocking on the door. Did he have a pistol in hand? Probably.
There was a sudden spill of light as the door opened and Lee saw the silhouette of what he assumed was a man. Thirty seconds passed. Then, after grabbing his rifle, Pun went inside. Lee allowed the air to escape from his lungs and was surprised to learn that he’d been holding it.
“So far, so good,” Shrestha whispered. “Pun’s a good talker.”
Lee hoped so as five minutes became ten. Finally Pun’s voice sounded in his ear. “This is Viper-One-Three. Please join me. Over.”
Lee pressed the transmit button twice and made his way forward. The door opened and Pun waved the men in. The kitchen was equipped with a waist-high work table, a two-burner stove, and open shelving. An elderly couple were waiting beyond. They were clearly frightened.
“This is Mr. and Mrs. Mathi,” Pun said. “I told them who we are, and why we’re here. They say that a local informant told the Chinese that our people were coming. They waited for Doctor Kwan to open her clinic and attacked.
Rai and Kunar fought back but were killed after a short gun battle. The Chinese dragged their bodies out into the main square. Doctor Kwan was taken prisoner.”
Lee felt despair followed by a glimmer of hope. “Where is she now?”
“The Chinese took her away,” Pun replied.
“Where to?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Mathi don’t know,” Pun answered. “But the Chinese left five men behind. They’re hidden in the local store waiting for us to appear.”
“Good,” Lee replied. “That’s where we’ll go. And remember, we need at least one prisoner, and two would be better. Tell Mr. and Mrs. Mathi that we appreciate their help, and will never speak their names.”
Pun spoke to the couple in Nepalese. They bowed their heads by way of an acknowledgement.
Pun led them out through the back door and past three houses before turning onto a well-trod trail. “The store is a one-story building with a flat roof,” Pun whispered. “Mr. Mathi thinks the Chinese might have a lookout up there.”
Lee turned to Shrestha who was armed with a sniper rifle. “Kill the lookout if there is one. Then we’ll go in.”
Shrestha nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Lee followed as Pun traveled beside a head-high stone wall past two houses to the point where the view opened up. The Gurkha pointed to the building ahead, and sure enough, a man armed with a rifle was standing on the roof. An easy target for Shrestha. The sniper rifle coughed and the figure collapsed.
Lee waited to see if the sound of the body hitting the roof would provoke a reaction. There was none. “I’ll get them to open the front door,” Lee said. “Once the shooting starts enter through the rear.” The Gurkhas nodded.
Lee led the way to the square, left his M4 leaning against a wall, and approached the store. Then he pounded the front door with a fist and shouted, “This is Lieutenant Yang! What the hell are you doing? Open the door.”
The words were in Mandarin, and the locals spoke Nepalese, ergo the speaker was Chinese. And an officer too. But, just to make sure, the sergeant in charge barely opened the door. The man waiting outside was clearly Chinese, but he was dressed like a Nepali, and that didn’t… The noncom never got the opportunity to complete his thought. Lee shot him in the face and stood
aside. A fusillade of shots came from within.
That was the Gurkhas’ cue to kick the back door open and enter. Lee heard a burp of automatic fire followed by a single shot. “Two prisoners,” Pun said over the radio. “The location is secure. Over.”
“Entering,” Lee responded, as he tried to push the door open but a body blocked the way. Lee gave it a shove. Once inside Lee saw another soldier lying dead on the floor.
Two prisoners stood with hands behind their heads. One was a corporal, and the other was a private. “Remove your uniforms,” Lee ordered in Mandarin. “And do so quickly.”
The soldiers were clearly surprised, but did as they were told, and stood shivering in their underwear. “Good,” Lee said. “The doctor... Where did they take her?”
Neither man replied. Both looked uncertain. “I’ll take care of this,” Shrestha said, as he drew his kukri.
The soldiers didn’t know Nepali. But the kukri spoke for itself. The private broke his silence. “They took the doctor to the Special Forces Compound in Sim Bhanjyang pass.”
The corporal looked angry but kept his mouth shut. Was the private telling the truth? “How do you know that?” Lee demanded.
“We’re stationed there,” the private replied. “And our sergeant took her away.”
That was believable, especially since there was no other base nearby. There was no way to be sure however. So, Lee would have to take a chance. “Alright. I see a rack over there. Get these man some clothes. Take them a few miles away and camp out. You can turn them loose 24 hours from now.”
The Gurkhas objected. They could guess what Lee planned to do and wanted to go along. Lee shook his head. “Sorry, guys… But this is a one-man job. Besides, I’m Chinese, and you aren’t.”
While the Gurkhas got clothes for the soldiers Lee stripped, put the corporal’s uniform on, and took a look in the mirror. It fit well. Unfortunately, the noncom’s boots were too small. That meant he’d have to stick with his which, if spotted by some sharp-eyed sergeant, could be a source of trouble. All Lee could do was hope for the best.
Red Dragon (Winds of War Book 3) Page 21
