Dancing with the Dragon (2002) (41 page)

It was evident that the Chinese pilots didn't have the skill and/or training to hold their own in the myriad aerial engagements over the strait and mainland China. In another aerial clash near Quemoy Island, the PLA Air Force lost a tanker plane and a four-engine Shaanxi Y-8 surveillance aircraft.

The United States lost five F/A-18 Hornets and three F-14 Tomcats. All but two of the aviators and RIOs were rescued. Seven other planes, including three from Roosevelt, limped back to Kitty Hawk with varying degrees of damage. One Tomcat crash-landed on the carrier and was quickly shoved over the side after the crew exited the wreckage. The deckhands had to quickly make room for other damaged planes to land.

The U. S. Air Force lost two F-15s, one F-16, and one F-117. The Taiwanese saw their aerial losses climb to a total of eleven F-5s, six Mirage 2000s, and three F-16s. Captain Chang Dhao-ming, a gifted Mirage pilot from the 42d Squadron, 499th Wing, at Hsinchu Air Base, shot down three Chinese aircraft.

By late afternoon, there were still sporadic clashes from one end of the debris-strewn strait to the other. However, it was painfully obvious to the Chinese leaders that the attempt to take Taiwan by force had been ill conceived and foolhardy.

As the sun settled over the strait, the U. S. Navy was allowing the damaged Chinese warships to limp back to their ports without sinking them. Many ships had sunk, others were either dead in the water, still burning out of control, or listing badly as they made their way through the oil slicks and floating debris.

The carrier Stennis was providing air support so the crews of Roosevelt and Kitty Hawk could regroup and rest. Many of the aviators from Roosevelt flew by helicopter to Kitty Hawk to join the rotation of round-the-clock BARCAP pilots. After transferring many assets, including two helicopters to the Hawk, the badly damaged Teddy R began the long voyage home.

The Taiwanese people and their democratic island nation had been badly bruised and bloodied during the short but ferocious battle, but their spirits were high. With the help of a trusted friend and ally, Taipei had rebuffed a major assault on their freedom and sovereignty. What China might do next was anyone's guess, but the Taiwanese citizens, with the help of the United States, had sent a strong message to Beijing--"Stay out of Taiwan!"

Chapter
28.

Shuangliu Airport, Chengdu, China

The rain was light but steady as Scott and Jackie trudged back toward the airport after dark. Although they were still registered at the nondescript hotel, they had all of their belongings with them. In shock after finding out about the savage and deadly battle in the Taiwan Strait, they were on edge.

Hartwell Prost had given them the go-ahead by 6:00 P. M. Chengdu time, but he had made it clear that it was up to them to proceed or cancel. The Chinese were not in a good mood, and that meant an even higher risk if something went wrong.

"Scott?"

"Yes."

"What do you think?"

"I'm not sure at the moment."

"Should we ditch this operation--before we get in over our heads?"

He talked quietly as they approached the airport. "We're here, so we might as well try to accomplish our objective."

"What if we are successful and we make it back here with Dr. Cheung--and find the airport closed and our Lear impounded?" "I don't believe that's going to happen."

"You can't be sure."

Scott thought about the possibility. "The Lear isn't a warplane and we aren't soldiers--we're civilians."

"But we're going to be dressed like commandos."

"Let's just stick to our plan and see how things go."

"Okay," she said reluctantly. "But I don't have a good feeling about this deal--especially now that we're in an undeclared war with China."

"I know what you're saying, but the risk factor is the same, at least the way I see it. Besides, now that we're in an all-out shooting war with China, there's even more reason why we need to know what Cheung knows."

"Yeah, no kidding." She watched a commuter airliner take off and disappear in the rain and low clouds.

"Have you already filed?"

"Yeah, it's in the can."

She had used a handling agent specializing in international flight operations in order to obtain a weather report and file an instrument flight plan to Chongqing, China, the Double-Blessed river port at the confluence of the Yangtze River (long river) and the Chialing River. The intended destination was in the opposite direction from Mianyang.

Washington, D. C.

Hartwell Prost was at the White House having a working breakfast with the president, Secretary of State Brett Shannon, Defense Secretary Pete Adair, and air force general Les Chalmers. They were closely monitoring the provocative situation in China and waiting to see what Beijing would do next, if anything.

The president's press secretary was keeping the media informed of the events taking place in the Taiwan Strait. Macklin had instructed her to be completely open and honest about the explosive crisis, whether the news was good or bad.

While keeping an eye on the Chinese campaign the president and his team of advisers were anxiously awaiting news from the operatives who were about to embark on the precarious mission to Mianyang. If the operation was a success, Dr. Richard Cheung could provide extremely vital information about China's laser weapons, and he could furnish further proof about Beijing's deadly secret.

Chengdu, China

The parking ramp was dimly lighted and quiet when Jackie and Scott reached their helicopter. They quickly unlocked the Agusta and climbed inside to get out of the rain. Working in the dark, they unloaded the two canvas bags and donned their apparel.

Dressed in a black jumpsuit, body armor, helmet, and jungle boots, Jackie stepped outside and performed a thorough walk-around on the Agusta while Scott checked all of his gear and weapons. She also removed the engine covers from the Lear in order to save time when they returned to the airport.

Satisfied that everything was in order, he tested the pair of small, lightweight wireless headsets that would provide hands-free two-way communication between them.

While Jackie brought the helicopter to life, received her IFR clearance to Chongqing, and then strapped on her 9mm Glock, the Smith & Wesson .357, and the H & K 9mm, Scott liberally applied camouflage to his face, neck, and hands.

Dressed in specially made black-and-green fatigues, full body armor, helmet, and jungle boots, he carefully checked his 9mm Sig Sauer, the S & W .357, the H & K 9mm, and his extra clips of ammo.

Next, he placed the Sig Sauer in a holster on his right hip, the .357 on his left hip, and the H & K in a slot near his lower back. Finally, he filled two compartments in his fatigues with extra ammo and a waterproof flashlight, and then hung two grenades in straps on each side of the H & K He capped off his outfit by strapping on his K-Bar knife, a sturdy and deadly weapon for those intimate moments in hand-to-hand combat.

"Are you ready?" Jackie asked.

"All set." Scott secured the rest of the grenades and the two H & K MP5 compact submachine guns.

After calling the tower and receiving permission to take off, Jackie eased the Agusta into the rainy sky, raised the landing gear, and set a course toward the southeast. She contacted the departure controller and climbed slowly as they rapidly distanced themselves from the airport.

Finally, after flying into conditions that were solid IFR, Jackie called the controller and said she was in visual flight conditions and canceled her instrument flight plan. The controller acknowledged the cancellation and gave her a different code to squawk in her transponder, the avionics device that emits a discrete signal from an airplane or helicopter and allows the controller to identify a particular aircraft. She turned the volume down on the radio, turned the transponder off, and then concentrated solely on flying.

The controller would lose their transponder return before the helicopter changed course and disappeared in ground clutter on the controller's radar screen. Without a primary return on the radar--and no information from the transponder--the Agusta became a stealth helicopter.

"We'll have to fly lower and slower because of the rain." Jackie began a shallow descent and turned off the exterior lights. Seconds later, she leveled the Agusta.

Even though Scott continued to have doubts about the mission, he remained quiet and concentrated on the instruments.

She turned the helicopter to fly parallel to the ridge on the west side of the long elevation of land and then squinted to see lights on the ground. She needed to fly lower and began a gradual descent. Off to her left, she could see the soft glow of the lights from Chengdu. As the altimeter slowly wound down, her pulse began to increase.

After trying to suppress her nagging doubts, Jackie breathed a sigh of relief when she began to see lights on the ground. "Ah, yes--we'll fly this heading until we cross the railroad tracks extending east from Chengdu. When we get there, I'll make a fortyfive-degree cut to the left until we pick up the tracks leading to Mianyang."

Scott looked up from the enhanced satellite photographs of the Mianyang complex and studied the view through the windshield. "The forward visibility is zero point zilch, and it's raining harder."

"I know, but I can see the ground."

"What do you think?"

"Press on." She dimmed the interior lights to see the terrain better. "We'll just take it easy."

"Flying low at night in rainy conditions in unfamiliar territory ain't the smartest thing to do--not to mention that we're well below the tops of the ridge on our right."

"We're paralleling the ridge."

"We think we are."

"We'll be okay as long as we slow down," she said calmly. "Back me up on the gauges and I'll try to stay visual."

"You got it. Too bad we can't get a clearance, climb to a safe altitude, and go direct via the GPS."

"Yeah, then we drop off the radar at the restricted Mianyang complex," she said. "We might as well call them and let 'em know we're coming."

The rain intensified, causing Jackie to slow the Agusta even more. She concentrated on keeping the helicopter level.

Scott stared into the dark void and again had second thoughts. This really isn't looking good, especially if there's a tower out here that isn't on the chart.

She took a peek at the GPS and visualized where they were in relation to Mianyang. "The railroad should be coming up anytime."

A minute passed, then another, as they began to feel ill at ease.

Scott decided not to wait any longer. "You know, we may have flown past it and never saw the--"

"There it is," she interrupted. "I see the track."

Still concerned about their close proximity to the ridge, Dalton could barely make out the single-track railroad. "Yeah, that's it--let's come port forty-five degrees and get away from the ridge."

"Coming left to a heading of three forty-five." She began a smooth turn and a controlled descent.

"Not too low," Scott cautioned, feeling uneasy about trying to remain in visual flight conditions. Were off to a bad start and making it worse. "If the rain gets any heavier, we need to abort and try later tonight."

"If the rain gets worse, it'll mask the sound of our rotor blades better."

"How much rain does it take to mask the sound of a crash?" Scott asked.

They flew in silence, each contemplating the unknowns awaiting them. Without warning, two blinking strobe lights appeared in the dark. A second later, powerful landing lights flicked on. Moving very rapidly, the bright lights startled Jackie and Scott into action.

"Descend!" Scott said, fumbling for the exterior lights. "Hit the searchlight--they're almost on us!"

The unlighted Agusta appeared almost dead ahead to the pilots of the Air China International Boeing 737-300. At the same instant the powerful searchlight turned night into day, the Air China captain abruptly pulled the airliner's nose up and banked sharply to the right, abandoning his approach to the Shuangliu Airport.

Caught completely off guard, Jackie held the controls firmly as the Agusta was violently rocked in the turbulence generated by the Boeing's wingtip vortices.

"Sweet Jesus," Jackie said, extinguishing the searchlight and exterior lights. "That was close."

"Ah, Mother of mercy," Scott said, and took a deep breath. "We don't want to ever know how close."

"I'd better monitor the radio."

"That might be a damn good idea. We're going through an approach corridor and no one knows we're here."

They remained quiet while Jackie listened to an air traffic control supervisor at the Shuangliu Airport reassure the Air China International pilot that the controller didn't have any radar returns in that sector--except the 737 airliner.

Scott unrolled the high-resolution photographs of the Mianyang complex. He studied the landing spot behind a tall hill in the valley close to Mianyang's on-site living quarters. Next, he took a long look at the recent photograph of Dr. Richard Cheung. I sure as hell hope he's there.

A few minutes later, Jackie spotted the primary road from Chengdu to Mianyang and then saw the rail line on the west side of the road. Cloaked in darkness, she banked the Agusta to the right to follow the tracks northeast to Guanghan and then to Deyang.