Supercritical Page 20

  “Not great, boss. Daniel’s the only one of us with more than a couple of bullets to rub together. Martin’s got some various things that blow up, but we’ve got nothing to shoot if we get into a corner. Finding a place to resupply or get new weapons should be a high priority,” Christopher answered.

  Nick had been afraid of that. They hadn’t brought much ammo with them. Space was limited, and this was supposed to be a sneaking mission, not a shooting mission. The unexpected fight with the insurgents had left them in bad shape. Nick knew there were millions of old Russian AK-47s floating around in this country, plus plenty of 5.56 ammo for the modified QBZ-97 assault rifles with computerized scopes the Chinese forces favored. The ammo was out there; finding and securing it was going to be the problem.

  “Got a spare set of headphones for that?” Nick asked Mary, nodding to her netbook.

  “Yeah,” she said. She plugged in a small set of earbuds and handed them to him, and he put them in his ears.

  “Cycle the frequencies on my channel every couple of seconds. I’m going to see if I can pick up any official Chinese military or police traffic.”

  She nodded, opening up another communications monitoring program and assigning the output to Nick’s earbuds. He heard static, then a public information channel a couple of seconds later.

  “When I find something, I’ll need you to get me a location,” he told her.

  “I’ll do what I can. There’s a lot of cross-traffic the more we get out of the mountains.”

  Nick listened for a few minutes before he came across a series of numbers being repeated slowly by a male voice. He tapped Mary on the forearm and held up one hand: Stop here.

  Nick listened for about thirty seconds. The signal was getting stronger, but the numbers themselves didn’t mean anything to him in particular.

  “Twenty-two. Four. Eight twelve. Nine. Nine. Seventy-three. Eleven. Four. Six. Six,” the voice said, slowly and patiently in accentless Mandarin Chinese.

  “This one,” Nick said. “Find out where it’s coming from.”

  Mary shot him a thumbs-up and got to work. The voice continued reading numbers, deliberate and unhurried. She worked fast and a few seconds later, a map with a glowing red dot appeared on her screen.

  “Bryce? See that?” Nick asked.

  “Yeah. Five, six miles to our west. Base of the mountain, looks like.”

  “Creep up on it. Stop us about a half-mile away,” Nick told him.

  “On it.”

  “What are they saying, Nick?” Mary asked as Bryce turned the wheel.

  “A number sequence. Lots of numbers, nonrepeating. Code, I think. I have a feeling we’ll find something interesting there.”

  * * *

  “Jesus. What the fuck is that?” Daniel asked as he, Nick and Christopher stood outside the truck, looking through the night at a large series of blinking lights a little more than a half-mile down the road.

  Nick peered through his binoculars and sucked in his breath.

  “Um…Christopher, does that look like what I think it looks like?” Nick asked his SIC.

  “I’m not sure. It looks like a helicopter, but…damn, that thing is huge.”

  Nick handed his binoculars to Daniel.

  “Fuck,” the young man breathed. “That’s gotta be the size of a C-5. And it’s got guns poking out of every angle.”

  He was right. Nick had spotted plenty of miniguns, rockets and huge cannons on the gargantuan vehicle.

  “Can something that big even fly?” Christopher asked.

  As if on cue, the two huge wing rotors began to spin up. They were slow at first, and Nick couldn’t hear them moving. Even when they got moving at full speed, he barely detected any rotor noise. A few seconds later, the chopper slowly floated off the ground and climbed lazily into the air, flying away from them. Nick and Christopher watched it disappear from view through their binoculars. Once it got airborne, the helicopter seemed to move pretty quickly.

  “Man. That thing’s fucking terrifying,” Bryce said through the truck’s open window.

  “Yeah. It must be experimental. I haven’t heard any reports of those on the front,” Nick said.

  “Good thing, too. They look like they have enough weapons on them to take down, well, anything,” Christopher guessed.

  Now that the helicopter was gone, Nick could see several large buildings the massive vehicle had hidden from view. Behind them, he caught the outline of another of the massive choppers, thanks to his binoculars’ night vision.

  “So what’s your plan, boss?” Daniel asked.

  Nick stripped off his HAZMAT suit and looked at his clothes underneath. They were torn, stained with blood and covered in dirt and plant matter from his scramble up the hill.

  “Well, no one’s going to buy the whole ‘MSS Agent’ story with me looking like this,” he said, sighing.

  “Yeah, you look kinda homeless,” Briggs said, hopping out of the back of the truck and stretching his legs. “We all do. And we’re starting to smell, which is lovely.”

  “Right. If I’m going to talk my way into some ammo or new guns, I’ll need a change of clothes at least. A less conspicuous vehicle would probably help, too.”

  “That building all the way up against the mountain. That look like a barracks to anyone else?” Bryce asked, looking through Christopher’s binoculars.

  “Might be,” Daniel said, sighting his scope on the building. “I’ve got about fifty bodies in there on thermal. Horizontal. Sleeping is my guess.”

  “Barracks means uniforms,” Nick said. “I might just be able to sneak in there and grab a change of clothes.”

  “Alone?” Christopher asked.

  “Gotta be that way. I’ll arouse the least suspicion.”

  Nick put on overcoat. It was only slightly cleaner than his own clothes, but covered up the worst of the mess he was wearing.

  He handed off his rifle to Christopher and started walking toward the chopper base, but quickly became aware he wasn’t alone. He looked over his shoulder and saw Daniel walking a few steps behind him.

  “I said I’m going alone,” Nick said, stopping and turning to look at the younger man.

  “Yeah, and I’ve got a problem with authority. I’m on your back, Nick. I’ll keep out of sight, but you’re not getting rid of me.”

  “I’m too exhausted to argue,” Nick said wearily. “Just don’t get shot again, all right? I’m running a bit low on spare blood.”

  “You’re not going to let me live that down, are you?”

  “Probably not.”

  Daniel fell into step next to Nick as he started walking again, the younger man’s face breaking into a wide grin.

  “Yeah, I probably wouldn’t, either.”

  * * *

  Nick took off his TotalVis goggles as he got close to the barracks and slipped them into McPherson’s coat pocket. The coat was big, making his already suspicious appearance almost comical. Still, Daniel’s thermals said the people inside the barracks weren’t moving, so he hoped no one would see him.

  “Guard patrols heading away from the barracks. Two Chinese soldiers, assault rifles, on foot. You’re clear,” Daniel’s voice whispered in his ear.

  Nick had the volume in his earpiece turned to its lowest setting, but he could hear Daniel just fine.

  “Copy that. Going in now.”

  The barracks’ entrance, or at least the one Nick saw, was in a small protrusion off the main building. There was one dim light on inside the small room. Before opening the door, Nick listened for a full minute, but he didn’t hear anyone moving around inside. Quietly, he pushed open the door and slowly moved inside.

  He couldn’t believe his luck when he saw where he was. There were three huge washing machines on one side of the small room and three large commercial dryers on the other. Two of the dryers were running, full of People’s Liberation Army uniforms.

  Nick crouched next to one of the dryers and looked around the room. Directly acros
s from the door he’d used to get in, there was another door that he guessed led into the main barracks. It was open, but it was too dark inside for him to see much. Nick slowly crept over to the inside door and closed it as quietly as he could, then went back to the nearest dryer and opened it. The dryer stopped tumbling, and Nick reached inside.

  The clothes were still a bit damp, but Nick pulled out a pair of BDU pants, a camouflage T-shirt and a BDU jacket. As he quickly ditched his dirty, stained clothes and put on the fatigues, he noticed the rank insignia sewn onto the lapels—Shao Xiao. It was roughly equivalent to a Major.

  He buttoned up the uniform coat and started transferring his gear from his old clothes. He’d thankfully left most of his stuff back in the truck with his people. He shoved the TotalVis goggles and his MSS credentials into his cargo pockets then stashed his Glock under the uniform jacket. There was supposed to be a belt and hat that went with the uniform, but he didn’t see either just sitting around the laundry room. He’d have to make do with what he had.

  Nick balled up his old clothes and bundled them into McPherson’s coat, then tucked the bundle under his arm and reached for the door that led outside. His people needed new clothes, too, but carrying them all would be problematic at best. As he stepped back out into the night and closed the door behind him, he heard Daniel’s voice in his ear.

  “Inbound. Guard unit. They’ll be on you in five seconds, boss.”

  “Copy,” Nick whispered, tossing his bundle of stained clothes behind the laundry room. As he turned around, he saw two young Chinese soldiers headed his way.

  “Hey! You’re not supposed to be out here!” one of them said.

  “And you’re out of uniform!” the other added.

  A flashlight shined in his eyes, and Nick forced himself not to blink.

  “You’ll want to stop shining that light in my eyes, soldier,” Nick said calmly.

  “Sorry, uh, Major?” one of them said, and the light moved down to Nick’s feet.

  “I don’t recognize you, sir. I’m afraid I’ll need some sort of identification,” the other soldier said, his weapon ready but not pointed at Nick. It was aimed just in front of his feet.

  “Of course,” Nick said, reaching into his cargo pocket and pulling out the MSS ID. He held it out at arm’s length, and the soldier with the flashlight stepped forward to take it. He looked it over, then showed it to the other soldier.

  “A precaution, sir. You understand,” the soldier with the flashlight said.

  “May I ask what brings you here in the middle of the night, sir? We weren’t informed of any MSS inspections at the security briefing today,” the other said, still keeping his weapon aimed just in front of Nick’s boots.

  “We don’t often inform enlisted troops of our movements,” Nick told him. The jacket he’d stolen was damp, but Nick could still feel sweat forming on the small of his back.

  “Boss, give me something here,” Daniel’s voice whispered. “I can’t tell what the fuck you guys are saying. I’m ready to take them out. Right hand into a fist if you need these guys dropped.”

  Nick moved his right hand down to his side and splayed his fingers as wide as they would go.

  “Roger, holding.”

  “Is someone expecting you, sir?” the guard with the flashlight asked.

  “No, Xia Shi,” Nick said. “I’m on a classified assignment. I’ll need you to get your facility intelligence officer and bring him to me.”

  The soldier with the flashlight—the Xia Shi, or Corporal—looked to the other soldier. Nick noticed that the one with the rifle pointed in his direction held the Zhong Shi rank, which was roughly a Sergeant.

  “Go ahead. Get Shang Wei Long,” the Sergeant said. “I’ll keep our guest company.”

  Shit. They’re not buying it, Nick’s brain screamed. He forced the thoughts to calm as he dropped both arms to his sides and attempted to appear as nonthreatening as possible. He wanted to signal Daniel to shoot, but he’d have a hard time taking out both guards before one of them could take Nick down. The younger soldier took off at a jog, and Nick and the other soldier stood there looking at each other for a long, uncomfortable moment.

  “Those are nice boots, sir,” the Sergeant commented, grinning.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Give Me Fire

  “Christopher, stop looking at me like you want to kiss me,” Nick said.

  “I’m just so damn proud, is all. That was a hell of a scam you pulled off,” Christopher replied, not bothering to hold in his laughter.

  “It was pretty impressive, boss. I mean, you got them to give us guns, extra ammo, uniforms, even fill up our tank with gas. I’m surprised you didn’t have them wash the windows,” Martin said.

  “Well, I didn’t want to impose.” Nick was in the back of the truck as it headed away from the helicopter base. His men had all changed into their new Chinese Army BDUs. Christopher’s and Briggs’ were a little small for them, but they were better than the near-rags the team had been wearing.

  “How’d you do it, anyway?” Mary asked.

  “Told them the truth, kind of. I mean, I lied about who we were, obviously. But I told them about getting jumped by the insurgents and burning through our ammo. Their Intel officer was scared as hell of the MSS, so he was only too happy to give me whatever I asked for. Probably just wanted to get me out of there,” Nick said. “Guy had a huge scar on his face, and my guess is someone in the MSS gave it to him.”

  “Well, you definitely earned your paycheck today, man,” Christopher said, smiling. “Why don’t you crash out for a bit? I can ride up front and listen to the radio traffic. Anything sounds really hinky, I’ll wake you.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Bryce, Mary, you guys have been up just as long as I have. You’re on sleep rotation, too.”

  “Right. Who’s okay with computers?” Mary asked.

  “I’m not too bad,” Martin said.

  “Good. Route for the next couple of hours is all planned out, so just direct whoever’s at the wheel where the little red line points us,” Mary told him, handing over her netbook.

  “Daniel? Wanna take the wheel?” Bryce asked.

  “Sure.”

  Bryce pulled the truck over, and Martin, Christopher and Daniel climbed into the cab.

  “Ben, you’re on downtime, too,” Nick said. “We’ve gotta get on a day shift and a night shift eventually.”

  “Don’t have to tell me twice,” Briggs said, climbing into the back of the truck. “I’m fucking beat.”

  * * *

  Nick didn’t know how long he’d been out. It seemed to him he’d just closed his eyes, but when he opened them again, there was daylight streaming into the back of the truck. Christopher was crouched next to him, gently shaking his shoulder.

  “Yeah, Chris? What’s up?” Nick said, yawning.

  “Sorry to wake you, boss. We’ve got traffic on the handheld,” Christopher told him, holding up the radio they’d taken from the dead insurgents.

  Nick sat up, reaching his hand out to his SIC. He heard a lot of static, but Christopher was right. There were faint voices transmitting on that channel.

  “They must be back the way we came. They’re trying to raise the guys we shot,” Nick said quietly.

  “Won’t be long before they realize they aren’t answering. What’s our move here, boss? Do we make contact?”

  Nick looked around the back of the truck as he considered. They’d stopped moving, and Bryce, Mary and Briggs were still passed out. He’d hate to backtrack now, lose another couple of days and put these people—his friends—back in danger, but the insurgents might be able to help them out. Of course, the insurgents might shoot them on sight, too.

  Shit. This is something they never covered in officer’s training school, Nick thought. Of course, they didn’t cover a hell of a lot, really.

  “What do you think?” he finally said, looking to Christopher.

  “All honesty, Nick, I wouldn’t mind the h
elp. But they’re, what, three days behind us now? At best? We’ve been lucky as shit to get this far. I doubt we could do it again.”

  Nick nodded.

  “Right, then. We keep moving. How long have we been asleep?”

  “Almost six hours.”

  “Long enough. Wake the others, then get some sleep.”

  Nick hopped out of the back of the truck and lit a cigarette. He was getting low on smokes—he should have seen if the Captain back at the helicopter base had any to spare, but that probably would have been pushing it.

  A few moments later, Bryce joined him outside.

  “Morning, boss.”

  “Bryce. Sleep well?”

  “Surprisingly. You?”

  “Like the dead.”

  Nick heard Mary and Martin talking softly behind him. Probably going over our location, the route.

  Briggs hopped out of the back of the truck, stretched, yawned and nodded at Nick’s cigarette.

  “Got any more of those?”

  “You can finish this one.”

  “Thanks.”

  The three men stood there silently for a long minute, staring off into the rising sun.

  “So, who’s up for Waffle House?” Bryce asked quietly.

  Nick laughed.

  * * *

  They’d been back on the road for two hours, following Mary’s route south toward a medium-sized town called Liangcheng. They were still a good 700 miles from their destination in Shanghai, and Nick felt like they were moving at a crawl. Bryce was at the wheel, but no one had said anything in more than half an hour when the insurgent handheld radio on the dashboard suddenly crackled to life.

  “We’re in trouble here! Where the hell are you guys?” a man shouted in panicked Chinese.

  Gunfire came through the handheld’s tiny speaker.

  “Mary, see if you can track that signal,” Nick said, picking up the handheld.

  “On it.”

  “They have us pinned down! We need help!” the voice screamed.

  “Two miles southeast. Right along our present route,” Mary told him.

  “Bryce, get as much speed out of this crate as you can.”

  “Roger that.”

  Nick pressed the talk button on the radio.