Tiger by the Tail (38 page)

“Too bad. She is going with us now.” He turned and said something in Burmese that made the rest of the solders laugh.

“What did he say?” Mike asked.

“Something about how Cong wasn’t the only one who found a prize,” Jace answered.

“That’s right, just keep thinking that, buddy,” Mike said with a grim smile.

“You do know they’re planning on raping the shit out of her, then probably killing her if she’s lucky, right?” Jace asked when he saw a similar smile appear on Adams’ face as well.

“Yeah, but they don’t know that they just found the one woman in the world they do
not
want to do anything like that to,” Mike said, watching as she was hauled off to one of the armored cars. “Oh, please, just try and touch her in one of those. If they do, we’ll be out of here in a half-hour.”

Unfortunately, that Cascavel started up and headed into town, while Mike and the others were loaded back onto the back of their Chinese-manufactured Aeolus 4x2 six-ton utility trucks, along with a half dozen armed guards as escorts, which also started up and headed in the opposite direction.

* * *

“Keep that translation feed coming—isolate any information on where they’re being taken. I want five-minute updates on the tracking bugs in the trucks. Irina, where’s my personnel report on who we’ve got left?”

From the moment the trap had been sprung, Vanner had been pulling together a back-up plan, but it was looking very weak at the moment. With the majority of the Keldara having just been captured, and with no local air support or any quick way to get a rescue team mobilized for at least forty-eight to seventy-two hours, Vanner was stuck on the boat with nothing to do but watch.

Well, that wasn’t quite true. One of the first things he had done was contact Neilson, who was scrambling a team out of Georgia. That, however, was going to take some time. “And you know Mike’s not going to take this lying down.” Neilson had said when Vanner had told him what had gone down.

“You know that and I know that, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit on my thumbs and wait for him to bust out of there,” Vanner had replied.

“I hear you,” Nielson said. “The reinforcements should be wheels up in ten hours, and we’ll do everything we can to get them over there sooner. I’ll notify you when we’re en route.”

“You’re coming, too?”

“With our command officers behind enemy lines in the field, that leaves you and me. As you’ll be heading up the rescue op, I’ll remain at command HQ to coordinate from there.”

“Works,” Vanner had replied.

The one good thing that had come out of this—if indeed it could be called that—was that the stupid son-of-a-bitch Chinese general had been both arrogant and dumb enough to take Oleg’s
leg
from him. When they had seen that through Katya’s eyes, the girls had all stopped what they were doing and stared, with Grezyna slowly placing both hands over her mouth.

“I’m assuming that’s a bad thing, right?” Vanner had asked.

“There is almost no worse insult than to take a personal item from a Keldara and leave him alive,” Greznya said.

“The only thing worse than that would be to defeat one of our warriors in battle and not kill him,” Martya said.

“That man has just guaranteed his own death,” Greznya said.

“I guess that will save the Chinese military the expense of a trial.” Vanner sighed. “Speaking of higher ups, I’d better contact Pierson. He will definitely want to hear about this.” He conferenced in Neilson again before picking up the secure satphone. “Hello, Bob, go scramble . . .”

* * *

“How can we help? What does Mike or any of the Keldara need?” were the first words out of the President’s mouth an hour later.

“While we thank you for your generous offer, Mr. President, there is every indication that Mike will most likely have the situation under control shortly,” Nielson replied. “Also, he had mentioned to us that it could be politically dangerous to put U.S. assets in the area. Therefore, we are currently getting our own locate and extraction mission up and running. That said, if there is any way to commandeer a C-130 Hercules anywhere near Tbilisi and get it to that airport, that would be a godsend.”

“We can scramble one from Incirlik Air Base in Turkey. Where do your men need to be dropped off?”

Vanner had just brought up the map of the country with major airports listed. “Holy shit—sorry, sir. If you can get them to Mandalay International Airport, they’d be less than a hundred fifty klicks away from Mike’s last known location.”

“Consider it done.” The President pointed at an aide. “Get me the Air Force Chief of Staff on the phone
now
.”

* * *

Any effort at talking among the prisoners was met with a stern reprimand, and, when Jace persisted in trying to whisper one more thing, he had taken a rifle butt to the chest. They all remained quiet for the remainder of the trip, the trucks stopping only once to refuel. After three days of mostly air-conditioning, it was swelteringly hot in the back of the trucks, although the Keldara bore the discomfort with their usual stoic expressions.

After what Jace estimated was about three hours of travel over rough, dirt roads, the trucks stopped at a large, abandoned city. Getting out, he saw buildings that could have easily housed hundreds of thousands of people filling both sides of a large valley. Scattered lights shone on the far side, and a cluster of lights in the windows of buildings they were in front of showed where the inhabitants were clustered.

A row of armed guards stood ready to greet them as they filed out of the back of the trucks. A watchtower rose thirty feet into the air, and was manned by a pair of guards behind a light machine gun. If there was any surprise or puzzlement about their new prisoners, it didn’t show on their captors’ faces.

Jace found himself next to Mike, who was also looking around, sizing up their opposition. “Probably split us up to isolate the groups,” the Kildar said. “Have to assess our situation and make contact with others, then find access to a radio.”

Jace nodded. “Should I offer to translate or hang back?”

“Help the rest as much as possible. Adams and I will have to tell the others in Keldaran anyway.”

As the guards herded the Keldara into two lines, a thin Burmese man with a lean face and a shock of gray hair strode forward to stand in front of the line. He was dressed in a gray uniform with his hand resting on the butt of the holstered pistol on his hip. “Does anyone here speak Burmese?”

Jace stepped forward. “I do.”

“Good, translate what I am saying to the rest.”

“Ah, sir?”

“What is it?”

“The majority of these people come from Georgia—the nation, not the American state. I can translate into English, but these two”—Jace pointed at Mike and Adams—“will have to translate your speech into their native tongue, as I do not speak it.”

The man stared hard at the Kildar and his second-in-command for a few seconds. “Proceed.”

Jace waved both men forward. “He told me to have you guys translate into Keldaran as I translate his words into English.”

“Oh, hell,” Adams replied. “My Keldaran is not the best, by the way.”

“You certainly swear like one. Just do your best. You know what to tell them anyway,” Mike said.

“You may begin when ready,” Jace said to the camp commander.

“My name is Warden Sein. That is the only title you will address me by. You are in the mining city of Mogok. All of you will be working in the gem mines here for the foreseeable future. Work hard, and you will do well. Do not work hard, and you will be punished with time in the box.” He pointed at a small metal box, about three feet by three feet by four feet high. With a frown, the warden waved one of his subordinates to him. With a whisper, the other man ran to the box and opened it.

A sweat-soaked, barely-conscious man tumbled out, his leg muscles twitching uncontrollably from being forced to squat for hours. His cheek was red and blistered, burned, Jace thought, by coming in contact with the hot metal. Two guards dragged the limp, unresisting man toward one of the barracks.

The warden continued. “We supply you with clothes, meals, and a place to sleep. Destruction of any of these items will result in time in the box. Fighting with the other men will result in time in the box. Smuggling of items into the labor camp from outside will result in time in the box. Does everyone understand these rules?”

Mike and Adams repeated the statements from the warden, adding that the Keldara should stick together whenever possible, protect themselves if attacked, and wait for word from the Kildar, who would be contacting each group shortly.

As he spoke, the warden was walking up and down the line, inspecting the new men. When he reached Oleg, he looked down at the man’s single foot. “Why have I been brought a man with only one leg?”

“Jace, tell him his prosthetic was only recently taken from him, but as you can see, he’s very strong. He will work hard,” Mike replied.

Sein drew his pistol. “How, if he cannot walk?” He took a step back and started to raise the gun. “All he will be is a drain on our already limited resources.”

“STOP!”

The vehemence in Mike’s command actually made Sein look over at him, while the guards all around the group raised their rifles. Catching Oleg’s unasked but obvious question of whether or not to go for the warden, Mike shook his head once while talking. “Just give me until the start of the next work day. I will present a solution then that will satisfy everybody.”

Sein’s gaze flicked to the massive Keldara, who hadn’t reacted in the slightest to what was happening around him. He looked at the heavy-set man’s brawny, corded muscles, then lowered his pistol. “Very well. You have until muster later this morning.”

The warden turned on his heel to face the entire group. “You will now be assigned to your various bunkhouses. You had best get whatever rest you can, because there is a full day’s work ahead, in just a few hours.” This last was said with a vicious smile at Mike. “Guards!” With that, the warden strolled off toward a larger house higher on the hill.

The head guard, a large man with his MA-1 slung over a shoulder, addressed Jace. “You speak Burmese?” At his nod, the man continued. “All right, divide this group into four groups of seven men apiece. You have thirty seconds.”

Jace relayed the orders to Mike, who called out to the assembled men. “Teams, casually fall into your squad assignments.”

In less than ten seconds the men were grouped in four clusters. Mike, Jace, and Adams were about to join two other groups when the guards stopped them. One pointed to another large hut that looked like it was somewhat better maintained. “No. You three stay there for the time being. The trustees will educate you on how things run here. It will be your job to teach these other men and make sure they do their job. If they do well, you do well. If they do not, you will be punished, as well as them.”

Nodding, Jace explained the situation to the other two, ending with, “This ought to be interesting.”

Mike and Adams gave the men their last-minute marching orders, and the four groups of Keldara headed off to several gray, dilapidated barracks farther down in the camp.

The guards escorted the three men to the trustees’ hut, unlocked it, and led them in, turning on the lights as they did. Bleary-eyed, sullen-faced men roused from sleep to stare daggers at the newcomers. Other than being sleep-deprived, they looked fairly healthy, which surprised Jace.

“New arrivals. Show them how things work,” the head guard said. Then he walked out, leaving Mike, Jace, and Adams facing a dozen unhappy Burmese and Thais.

One of them, a muscular man dressed in pajama bottoms, held a wooden club in his hand and thwacked the end into his palm as he spoke. “Who speaks Burmese or Thai?”

Jace raised a hand.

“All right, here’s how it goes—”

Mike held up a hand. “Tell him to shut the fuck up.”

Jace interrupted the trustee leader, making the leader’s eyes widen. “What did he say?”

Mike was already talking as he walked over to stand in front of the leader. “Tell him my name, and that we are in charge as of right now. Tell all of them that they will be taking orders from any of us at any time.”

Jace translated all of this. His announcement made all the men laugh, with the leader laughing hardest of all. “And who the fuck are you to come in here and tell us you are the leader now?”

Jace translated that for Mike, who casually shifted his weight. “Say, ‘I’m the Kildar,’ and be ready to move.”

Jace translated Mike’s words, saying “Kildar” in English, since there was no Burmese equivalent. While he spoke, he took in the measurements of the room, the height of the ceiling, and the position of the nearest three men to him.

The moment the leader frowned and cocked his head at the unfamiliar word, Mike lashed out with his foot, sinking it deep into the man’s crotch. As he jackknifed forward, his face slammed into Mike’s knee as Mike simultaneously relieved the dropping man of his club.

“About fuckin’ time!” Adams said as he whipped a front kick into the chest of the man closest to him. The powerhouse blow drove the man back into two other, tangling them up for a few seconds while the master chief took on the next guy nearest to him.

Jace had also moved in the same instant as Mike, using the exact same combination to drop a tall Thai to his knees, rendering him unable to do anything but bleed and vomit. His next two targets were marginally more on the ball. They charged him, one going high, one going low. Jace sidestepped the low one and caught the man’s foot with his own. Shoving him forward, he sent him sprawling to the ground. Blocking the high attacker’s punch, he jabbed the heel of his palm into the other man’s nose. The shot made the man’s eyes water and sent a sharp stab of pain through his head.

As the man clapped his hands to his face, Jace followed up with a kick to the knee, dropping the man to the floor. As he whirled to meet the next one, he had the oddest thought.

I wonder what Katya’s going through right now . . .

CHAPTER NINETEEN