Empire of the Dragon Page 33

  Tram moved his head as he turned to see who it was, when his world became a confused jumble of stars and explosions in his head. His face fell into the sand just as other Russian made personnel carriers passed the stalled one and advanced even faster than before.

  Birnbaum had the canvas satchel full of heavy magazines for the Barrett still swinging in his hands after striking Tram in the side of his head. He stared down at the unconscious body of the small Vietnamese sergeant. He slowly brought out a nine-millimeter pistol and aimed at his head. He stopped, fearing the sound of the shot would be heard inside the ‘Slick Willy’. He had business to conduct before any announcement of his true identity was learned by the unsuspecting fools.

  * * *

  Ryan, Lee, and Pierce had the upper half of the bomb freed of sand. Pierce expertly cut the heavy-gauge wires that allowed the ‘Thin Man’ to be suspended above the bomb-bay doors. They all jumped when the heavy bomb dropped three inches to rest on its belly.

  “It’s always a good sign when the atomic bomb you’re playing around with doesn’t explode,” Ryan joked, as he wiped sweat from his face, allowing his knees to sink further into the sand. “Pretty good, Major, for a man that lost the instruction booklet almost eighty years ago.”

  “Yes, he is an amazing man.”

  The sudden report of the gunshot made Lee and Ryan jump as Major Pierce fell to the ground with a bullet in the back of his right shoulder. They both looked up into the semi-darkness as a large figure advanced on them with a smoking nine-millimeter still in his right hand. Lee went to his knees and checked on the moaning Major Pierce. He turned to face Professor Birnbaum.

  “You are an honor-less pig!”

  “Yes, I have no doubt you believe just that. But it is your honor that leaves much to be desired, Professor, keeping the Dragon Mineral all to yourselves for four thousand years. Perhaps you can discuss honor with your ancestors when you arrive.”

  “What did you do with Sergeant Tram?” Ryan asked, looking for even the slightest opportunity to spring on the traitorous man before him.

  “He will meet the same fate as yourselves.” He moved the pistol over to who he assumed was the greatest threat, and it wasn’t Ryan, it was Lee. “Please do not raise your hands. Professor, I’ve seen what it is you can do when you put your mind to it.”

  “You can knock off the phony accent now, Comrade,” Ryan said, growing as angry as he had ever been. He looked from Birnbaum to a barely moving Major Pierce. His anger grew.

  “Yes, it was a disgusting way to perform.” He aimed again and then started to put pressure on the trigger.

  Ryan charged. He knew if they lost Lee they had no other way to get the bomb inside the mountain before the Russians or the Chinese arrived with enough force to take Shangri-La.

  The aim of the pistol shifted faster than Jason thought it could. The man they thought as Birnbaum, fired. An explosion unlike any pistol Ryan had ever heard slammed into his eardrums like a Mac truck.

  Jason hit the sandy deck as the bullet miraculously missed his head by mere inches, as he even felt the air pressure of the passing bullet. When he looked up, he saw that Birnbaum had no forehead. The trough that ran through the middle of his head was still smoking as a flap of skin covered the man’s stunned expression. He followed his line of sight and saw a hole the size of a jar lid in the main bulkhead of the ‘Slick Willy’. The hole was also still smoking. He turned back just as the large torso of Birnbaum fell forward, dead. His eyes widened when he saw their salvation. Ryan lowered his head and tried to still the heart that was threatening to burst from his chest.

  In the growing darkness, he saw Henri Farbeaux step closer as he lowered the large Barrett. Behind him was Master Chief Jenks, who was holding up a still groggy Sergeant Tram.

  “For once I am glad to see you both,” was all Ryan could say, as he went to his ass and tried to still his nerves. “I would have appreciated maybe a little better timing.”

  Henri Farbeaux smiled.

  “You know I like dramatic entrances, Mister Ryan.”

  * * *

  The extreme eastern entrance to the mountain was a jumble of men, women, and young teens. They awaited the word from their new commander to take to the field. Jack and Carl were talking in soft voices with one of the elders of the group. They needed cover. From their location, the battle raged more than five miles away, but even so, a line of people would be noticed from the air almost immediately and attacked. They needed to get the populace to the preselected locations Jack and Carl had memorized from the terrain map created by Master Li Zheng. The old man they were speaking to spoke to them of an old plan once used against a man and his army that Kublai Khan had chased out of China centuries before. This group of desperate soldiers had come close to discovering by accident the hide-away of the people. Master Li Zheng had used a heavy line of thunderheads that dissuaded the army from going further in their retreat into eastern Mongolia.

  “Sounds like the only thing we can do to get the people to their positions.”

  Jack agreed with Carl. He looked up at the now dark skies and saw no clouds there. “Can you generate enough moisture in the air to create the conditions you seek?”

  The old man smiled. “Colonel Collins, the air is always full of water, you just have to know how to harvest it.”

  Collins looked outside and, from their position, they could discern that the Russian offensive was taking a toll on the Chinese air force. Although there were as many as a hundred tanks burning in the desert night, the Russians had expertly reinforced the attacking division with fresh men and equipment. As of that moment, it looked as if the Russians would arrive first to the mountain.

  “It looks like we’re it,” Jack said. “Are your people ready?”

  “Colonel, we have been preparing our minds for this fight since the day two thousand years ago when Master Li and General Chang brought us here. Yes, we are most assuredly ready. Our Master told me to express his gratitude for your assistance, gentlemen. However, he requests that once we have achieved our strategic goal of location, you are free to leave the battle.”

  Carl and Jack exchanged looks and then smiled.

  “Sir, those are Russians out there. If we ran out on you and your people, how could we ever face ourselves in a mirror again?” Carl asked with all seriousness. “No offense to Master Li, but we’ll stick it out if you don’t mind.”

  Jack hefted two M-4s and tossed one to Carl before winking at the six air force commandos in his group. They understood perfectly what Everett had just said and were with them for the duration. The young boys didn’t appreciate the welcome they received from the Russian fighters who shot them down. They slammed magazines into receivers and awaited Jack’s command.

  “Okay, start the show, sir.”

  The elder smiled and then half-bowed to Jack and Carl, before walking out into the moonless night to prepare the battlefield for their occupation.

  * * *

  The small elder vanished behind some rolling dunes as Jack tried his best to follow with his eyes, but could not see anything other than the evening stars that made their first appearance.

  “Now that’s something you don’t see every day,” Carl said, stepping out of the lee of the mountain.

  Jack joined him, as did a young teen who was dressed in the blue and gold armor and blue helmet with yellow plume of the clan of Shangri-La. The boy looked up at the larger Americans and nodded.

  “Grandfather used to surprise us in the mornings when we overslept by creating a rain squall over our beds. We were soaked more times than not on many days.”

  “He is your grandfather?” Jack asked.

  “Yes, he was one of the original followers of the Master who fled across the Great Wall before its completion.”

  The amazing thing was that Jack and Carl had seen so many incredible things in their careers with the Event Group, that the amazing statement didn’t give them a moment’s hesitation of doubt.

 
; They watched as bright specks of light illuminated the skies around for miles. They would swirl one way and then the other. Some would circle, and some would shoot straight into the sky. Suddenly, they coalesced into a million swirling balls of brilliant light, and then as one body shot into the night sky as if God himself had fired a mighty flare high into the heavens. The trail was long and phosphorous looking. It was if a meteor had reversed course and, instead of hitting the earth, it had rebounded. Then like a firework sent from hell, it exploded, creating giant shadows at the base of the mountain.

  “Well, that certainly won’t attract any attention,” Carl said, as he charged the handle of his M-4.

  Before Jack could say anything about Everett’s comment, the skies darkened, blotting out the early evening stars. Then the rain came.

  In the distance, two platoons of tanks, eight in all, turned toward the position they were now occupying. Jack cursed their luck and was about to rethink their strategy when the teen at his side bade him patience.

  “You will know when, Colonel.”

  Suddenly the skies exploded with electrical activity. Lightning strikes against the earth exploded burning sand into the air. Strike after strike hit and shook the world around them. The elder reappeared and hugged his young grandson. He winked just as the people lining the interior of the eastern cave came charging out. Armor gleamed in the flashes of lightning, and swords caught the blaze of reflected fire as they ran to the positions that Jack had assigned them.

  Another five platoons of Russian heavy armor peeled away from the main assault. They were coming on fast and strong, just behind the first. Then the rest made a sharp turn to the east. They had indeed attracted the attention of the Russian commander.

  “This is about to get exciting real fast, Jack,” Carl said, as he smiled and then joined the flight into the plain of Shangri-La.

  “Crazy bastard!” Collins shouted and then joined fifteen teenagers as they came running by, screaming the name of their Master.

  Thanks to the immense electrical storm, the T-90 and T-80 tanks could not get accurate information from their fire control computers. This did not stop them. They started to fire indiscriminately into the mass of humanity charging the field.

  Strike after lightning strike made the drivers of the massive tanks swerve and lose valuable time in aiming their large bore weaponry on the people.

  After getting to their designated area of the field, Jack dove for cover. He was amazed when the teens didn’t. They hurriedly went forward and grabbed every piece of wood or dead brush that they could. As he looked around, others were doing the same. If viewed from the air, it would have looked like bands of ants scouring the floor of the valley for food. Soon, over two hundred small bonfires were burning brightly in the falling rain as the Russians started to get their bearings. The attack choppers started to brave the dying electrical storm as they began attack runs on the heat signatures they were picking up on the floor of the valley. Each signature was that of a Shangri-La soldier.

  Missile after missile from the Havoc attack ships were fired at figures moving three miles ahead. Anti-personnel shells, HE rounds, started to decimate some of the positions. Jack winced when he saw a position, held by thirteen young people, explode in a cloud of destruction only three hundred yards from his position.

  The teen who was huddling next to Jack stood and, before Collins could pull him back to the wet earth, he ran toward the bonfire to join fifteen others. As he looked around, he could see all across the defensive line that every isolated group was doing the same.

  “Is someone going to tell me the damn plan?” Jack shouted after them.

  As the teens and elders around other fires mimicked the same action, Jack was amazed to see them all dip their hands straight into the flames. Instead of pulling back in pain, they came up with hands full of brightly burning embers. They were closing their eyes. Then bright balls of fire shot out of their outstretched hands and flew with blinding speed into the sky.

  An explosion overhead made Jack flinch as a fireball struck the leading Mil Havoc. The ball of fire smashed into the tail boom and tore it free from the engine housing just forward, and it exploded in midair, sending the five-bladed rotor veering off into the night.

  Soon, many more were being struck and just as many fell from the clearing skies. But the tanks, however, were being struck with much less effectiveness. Behind the power of many inches of steel and reactive armor plate, the tanks were near impervious to fire. As the lightning storm dwindled to nothing, they started getting target data from their computers and began firing into the defenders with pinpoint accuracy.

  Jack was aghast at the deadly accuracy of the Russian gunnery. Bodies were being torn asunder, being blasted into mist by the HE rounds landing among them. Still, the people fought with all they had. Large and small sand tornadoes confronted the armor as they bored into the eastern end of the valley. Position after position was soon knocked out of the fight, with the dead and dying strewn across the battlefield. Soon, he was horrified to see tracers fired from the citizens as they arched toward the tanks. Then even more so when he saw a group of teens and other young ones actually charge the closest tanks, waving their ceremonial swords and thrusting lances of the ancient ones. They were sliced to pieces by fifty caliber machine gun fire from thirty armored personnel carriers, which had joined the Russian onslaught.

  “God, what have I done?” Jack asked himself as Carl came sliding into his position, out of breath and bleeding again from his recent wounds.

  “We’ve lost half our strength, Jack. They’re murdering those poor people!”

  An HE round went off, deafening the rest of Everett’s report and knocking both men from their feet. Still the fireballs burst out from the dunes to the amazement of the Russian troops.

  “They’ve switched the focus of their main attack and swerved this way. The sacrifice of these people may have just given Ryan and Lee time to get that damn weapon into the mountain. Shall we see if we can help those kids and elders?” Jack said with determination.

  “I didn’t get all dolled up for nothing, let’s go!” Carl said, as they both burst from cover, firing their M-4s and charging the first of the personnel carriers.

  That was when the first Russian ground-attack jet fighters made their battlefield appearance.

  * * *

  Henri and Jenks had somehow gotten one of the field teams’ stolen Range Rovers. They hurriedly made a makeshift sled out of the ribs of the ‘Slick Willy’ and Lee had used his magic to lift the heavy Thin Man from its sleeping place. They were just strapping it down to the sled when the focus of the battle seemed to have shifted away from their immediate front.

  Ryan went to the back of the Range Rover and saw Major Pierce lying on a blanket. Tram was trying to stem the flow of blood coming from the Major’s shoulder wound. Tram looked up and, in the light of a flashlight, gently nodded his head, indicating he thought the Major would make it.

  “How you doin’, old boy?” Jason asked when Pierce looked up with a moan.

  “How am I doing?” He looked at Tram who was smiling down on him. “I’ve been shot, you stupid navy puke,” he growled, taking another sly, suspicious look at Tram. “And it sure looks like I’ve been captured. How in the hell do you think I’m doing?”

  Ryan smiled and then moved off just as he heard Pierce say loudly to Tram in the very unpolitic way of his; “Pierce, Major, U.S. Army Air Corps, and that’s all you’re getting outta’ me, Tojo!”

  He saw Henri looking to the east. “It seems Colonel Collins has found the fight he was seeking.”

  In the eastern skies, the bright flashes of light told Ryan the same. Jack and his people were taking a pounding. Jason looked at the final straps being placed around Thin Man by Jenks and Lee. They couldn’t hurry fast enough for him. He was torn about delivering the bomb into the interior of the city or running off to die with Jack and Carl. Henri saw his dilemma.

  “Don’t be in such a h
urry to die, Commander Ryan. Your chance will come soon enough when you light the fuse on that thing,” he said, nodding toward Thin Man lying in its cradle.

  “Its easy for you, isn’t it? They’re not your friends.”

  Henri spit out a mouth of dust but didn’t say anything.

  “That’s it. Let’s load up and get this thing off this field. All we need is a stray artillery round to hit that damn thing,” Jenks said, as he joined the two men. “It’s only seventy-five freakin’ years old.” He plopped a cigar into his mouth. He saw the silence between Ryan and Farbeaux.

  “After all, you can just wait it out, right? I mean, Sarah would be waiting if Jack cashes in. Just wait it out, is that your plan?” Ryan said with all the distaste he could muster.

  Farbeaux didn’t respond nor even react to the comment.

  “Hey, I don’t much care for the cheese eatin’ bastard either, but he did just save your ass, Mister,” Jenks said. “He could have run like a normal man, but instead he stayed.” Jenks spit out some tobacco from his chewed cigar and then saw Lee running their way.

  “Gentlemen, we have company,” Lee said running up to the trio of men. “I don’t think I have the mental strength to stop them after lifting that thing out of the fuselage.”

  About three hundred yards ahead, they saw the Russian paratroops. Hearts deflated when a hurried count was made. Ryan stopped at two hundred. They were in firing range even before they were seen.

  Henri moved to the bag he had near. He bent over and unzipped it. “In answer to your question, Mister Ryan, I have no desire to see your Colonel Collins dead. This would guarantee Sarah would forever mourn. I do not need to compete with a ghost. It would be a losing cause.” He straightened after pulling something from his bag. He broke an object open in the dark that the others couldn’t see, and then they heard a hollow ‘clunk’ sound as he inserted something. “I prefer for a woman to come to me of her own accord. Not because of need, but of want.”