Red Tide, стр. 73
***
Aboard the Arcus, north of Samir Island, the South China Sea
Ryson could hear every word Vos said. And though moved by the XO’s bravery, he knew the Chinese were going to win. And there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. Or was there? “Put me through to Commander Vos,” Ryson ordered.
“The mike’s hot,” an ET replied.
The hovercraft was entering the lagoon by then. Vos and her people were firing at it. “Seadog-Six to Seadog-Five. Order the C-RAM and Tor System operators to shut their radars down. Do it now! Over.”
***
Samir Island, the South China Sea
Vos was taken aback. Ryson’s order came out of nowhere, and didn’t make any sense. Shut the radars off? What the hell … Chinese planes were circling. And the Tor system was keeping them at bay. Had Ryson lost his mind?
But then it came to her. Harpoon missiles were designed to home in on active radar terminals. And, if her radars were off, the only radar the missiles would go for was mounted on the hovercraft! She issued the necessary orders followed by an emphatic, “No questions! Do it. And take cover. Harpoon missiles are inbound. Over.”
The sailors barely had time to shut the radars down and take cover before the Harpoons arrived. One would have been enough. But Ryson sent two.
They struck the LCAC like bolts of lightning. The fiery blasts overlapped each other and were followed by secondary explosions—as crates of ammo went off—and chunks of debris were hurled high into the air. Fiery bits and pieces twirled as they fell, each trailing a wisp of smoke, before hissing into the lagoon.
Now two wrecks marked the center of the lagoon. That would make entering the bay more hazardous. But Vos didn’t care. She was alive as were most of her sailors. “Turn the radars on,” she ordered. “Treat the wounded. And keep an eye peeled for Chinese sailors. I expect some are ashore by now. Over.”
***
The Arcus arrived half an hour later. Followed by the Type 22 an hour after that.
Tendrils of smoke continued to rise from the wrecks and buildings damaged by cannon fire. Graves were being dug for Allied personnel. Including one for Maggie Farley, Moy’s XO. The Chinese bodies were laid side-by-side in a trench. All forty-six of them.
Enemy causalities were higher than that. But the bodies that had gone down with the corvette would never be recovered. Nor would those of troops literally blown to bits. Ryson went ashore in a RIB boat. Vos was waiting. “Welcome back, sir. It’s good to see you.”
“And you,” Ryson said. “That was a close call.” He looked at the sky. “Where are the Chinese fighters?”
“They went home,” Vos replied. “But it isn’t over.”
“No,” Ryson agreed grimly. “It isn’t over.”
***
Aboard the Parker family plane, south of Hainan, China
After a smooth takeoff from Da Nang, Wride had turned north toward the Chinese island of Hainan, which was home to a very important naval base. And missile batteries that could easily blow the seaplane out of the sky.
To prevent that from happening Wride turned the plane’s regular transponder off, and turned the Chinese transponder on, thereby making the plane visible to the Chinese air traffic control system.
Then she activated the Chinese army Identification Friend or Foe (IFF) system which should keep enemy fighters from shooting the Seastar down. The system had been effective in the past, and would hopefully work again.
Wride didn’t know why Kelsey Parker made trips to the Chinese city of Macau. And didn’t want to know. Because it didn’t take a genius to realize that something shady was taking place. Would a protestation of ignorance be enough to protect Wride, if Allied intelligence landed on the Parker family? No. But not knowing the details made Wride feel better inside. And that, insofar as the pilot could tell, was the way the rest of the team handled the situation as well.
As for why, the answer was simple. The Parker family was paying Wride two hundred thou a year, that’s why. With most of the money going to her retirement fund.
The interrogatory from the Chinese Air Traffic Control system came seconds later. Wride gave them a code along with the plane’s tail number. Five seconds passed, followed by a cheerful, “Roger that. Have a nice day.”
***
After a nearly sleepless night Kelsey had boarded the seaplane feeling tired and scared. That was the way she always felt when forced to enter China. Her “handler” was a Ministry of State Security agent named Wei Ching. And if he called, Kelsey had to come running.
Not because she was a turncoat, or a mercenary, but because the Chinese were holding her half-sister prisoner. And, if the Parkers failed to perform the so-called “chores” that Ching gave them, Rong would be executed.
“Rong” was an interesting name. It could be feminine or masculine. And, in keeping with Chinese tradition, “Rong” could connote glory and honor.
On the other hand, the name could also mean “martial.” Or warlike. And that was the way Kelsey thought of her sister. As hard, unyielding and combative. Especially where her father was concerned. And that had everything to do with why Rong was a prisoner.
Just prior to the beginning of the war, Rong had announced her intention to move to China, and live with a rock musician she’d met in Hong Kong.
George Parker opposed the plan. He wanted Rong to finish her degree. And, in his opinion, the musician was a slacker and beneath his daughter. His favorite daughter.
The reason for that was plain to see. Rong was the spitting image of Li jing, George Parker’s achingly beautiful first wife. The woman he still loved. And the reason