Girl Rides the Wind (24 page)

“Plan B could be to drop you and Gunderson here off on Palawan,” Connie said.

“No,” Kathy said, with perhaps more passion than she’d intended. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you’re not dropping me off anywhere.”

“Let’s take stock, then. We have two trigger-pullers at full strength, another wounded, and fourth who’s never seen live fire – let’s round up and say we have three trigger-pullers…”

“… and a crazy-ass ninja chick with mayhem on her mind. I have that right, don’t I, LT… you do have mayhem on your mind?”

“Yeah, Sarge, I guess I do.”

“Fine,” Connie continued, “… and a crazy-ass ninja chick. We’ve got three M4’s and five thousand rounds, and one long-barrel…”

“We have the M4 we brought with us,” Emily added, “… and it has a grenade launcher. But we have no HE rounds.”

“I can contribute fifty HE rounds,” Danko said. “Plus, I’ll raise you two AK47’s with another thousand rounds, and another long-barrel.” He stood in the doorway, ordinance hanging from his shoulders and an exceedingly pleased expression on his face. “It’s about time I reacquainted myself with a bit of mayhem.”

“… and we’ll be arriving in a forty year old sea plane with no sound-mitigation whatsoever or any kind of stealth capability. Even with all the good will in the world, I’d say we’re looking at some pretty long odds.”

“Connie, are you saying we shouldn’t go?” Perry asked.

“Of course not.” She stared at him as though he’d just said something unimaginably foolish. “We’re definitely going, and by ‘we’ I mean you, me, Em and maybe Danko. But I just want to make sure Durant and Gunderson realize they don’t have to do this. I mean, hell, we don’t have any body armor, and we’re going up against at least two platoons of Chinese special forces, and we won’t even have the element of surprise.”

“Oh, I think they’ll be surprised.” Emily’s eyes flashed as she spoke.

“One advantage we have is that we know what assets Diao has with him, and one thing he lacks is snipers.”

“So, getting our snipers in position is gonna be key,” Emily said. “Once we verify that Diao’s people have Princess Toshi, the Admiral will send the
Jietai
in hard and fast. We don’t have to take on an entire company all by ourselves. We’re more of a recon team on a keyhole op.”

“A recon team with some teeth,” Danko said, patting the sniper rifle slung over his shoulder. “We’ll put some hurt on ’em before the reinforcements even get there.”

Emily pulled Kathy over to one side of the room. “You don’t have to do this, you know. It’s enough that you helped these guys find me.”

“No, Em. You don’t understand. I do have to. I owe you too much. Don’t leave me behind.”

“Kath, you don’t owe me anything, and if you get hurt, or worse…” She didn’t want to finish that thought, and it also occurred to her that by not allowing her friend to pay a debt, she was denying her a chance at redemption… even if no one else thought she needed redeeming. “Okay, fine. But stay with the Sarge, let him guide you, and you can keep each other safe…”

“… and do some mayhem, too, right?”

“Yeah, and do some mayhem.” Emily put a hand on her friend’s shoulder and kissed her forehead. “Same goes for you, too, Sarge. You two keep each other safe.”

Stowing gear in the back of the plane and plotting the route took no more than an hour, allowing them to depart before fifteen-hundred hours.

“We should make the airstrip at Surigao City before dark,” Kathy said, “…which should get us at least as far as Itbayat with plenty of fuel. The islands around Y’Ami are only another thirty minutes north.”

“We don’t want to arrive too early,” Connie said. “Darkness is our friend. Maybe we kill an hour or two in Surigao.”

Tammy motioned to Emily for a private word. “I owed your father a debt, and I am glad to have begun to repay it. Good luck.”

Hsu Qi came up behind her brother and took Emily’s hand. “Please, bring
sifu
Danko back safely.”

A
lthough any of
the passengers could have piloted the seaplane – except perhaps Durant – Connie thought it best to put Gunderson in that seat, and she was in command by default. Rank meant as little as age at this moment, and each of them would defer to Emily if she cared to say anything. But she preferred to stay quiet, and Kathy had a steady hand.

Connie, Danko and Perry huddled over a tablet in the cabin, examining satellite images of the island chain north of Luzon, too small to show the kind of detail they would have liked, but better than flying blind. Emily rested her forehead against a portside window and gazed into the semi-translucent black glass.

The lights of Borongan City slipped past, gliding across the pale-dark bodies of her friends, and the smaller towns of Oras and then Laoang gradually flickered into view – after that, darkness. Kathy took a wide turn east of the San Bernardino Strait and dropped to a few hundred feet. Once she’d killed the navigation lights and dimmed the interior, the only illumination in the cabin came from the instrument gauges and the tablet. Otherwise, they were nearly invisible to any other craft, at least until the moon rose.

“We’ve got three possibilities,” Danko said. “They’re the only ones with a possible coastal landing area. The others islands have rocky cliffs on all sides.”

“If they were choosing, I think Diao would opt for the largest one, as having the most defensible positions,” Perry said.

“I agree,” Connie said. “These two ridgelines descending from the southern peak and terminating on either side of this sandy stretch, lots of places to get dug in all through this area.” She ran her fingers along one edge of the image on the tablet.

“Do we have any sense of what sorts of weaponry he may have?” Danko asked.

“No. If he took shelter there with what he had on the
BHR
, then it’s likely just small arms. But if he planned for this, then he could have something heavier… RPG’s, maybe even MANPAD’s.

“If he has a guided missile system, there’s no way we can approach in this crate,” Perry said. “It’ll be like target practice for them.”

“I know,” Connie said. Emily shifted her eyes to bring Connie’s reflection into focus, and shook her head. “We’ll just have to chance it,” Connie continued. “We have no other options.”

Emily refocused again, now seeing neither the world outside the window, nor the reflected scene inside the cabin. The face of the man she’d killed in the jungle just a few days before skimmed the dark waves. The
wakizashi
had slipped so neatly between his ribs, almost compassionate compared to the ferocity with which it had just hacked of his hand. She’d done it to him – no point hiding from the truth now – the first stroke was necessary to protect Durant, and the second was meant as a kindness to him. But no memory of pretended solicitude could send him away, or so she feared.

A long, slow exhalation brought her mind to a new focus, as she tried to usher him out of her thoughts. She drew in another breath and followed it down, all the way down into her heart –
what would she find there now?

The forest awaited her as always, though now perhaps more specific, more concrete than it had ever been, and the voices called out to her, inviting her to stay, to bury herself under the trees and their roots. High above her head, branches that hadn’t seen the sun in years dangled from an even higher canopy as she moved through a glade of more widely spaced trunks. Running barefoot, toes digging into the forest floor, she ducked into a denser part of the forest, among shorter trees and overgrown shrubs on all sides. Ferns slapped at her calves until finally she burst through the last bit of foliage into the familiar meadow.

A different voice, newly familiar, spoke in her heart, and the cool light of the moon washed over her face, and she sunk to her knees in the tall grass. “Protect.” Tears warmed her cheeks and the sound of running water, a stream, came to her from a distance. “Protect your priest.” When she’d first heard it, the voice spoke in the cold, metallic tones of an elemental spirit. But this time, it sounded warmer, human, less a command than an act of forgiveness.

“You are a moon-child, Miss Tenno. Anyone can see that.” Hsu Qi had pressed a hand against Emily’s cheek that first morning in the barracks room on the island. “You have killed many, and you are not done.”

“I am aware.” Emily felt the weight of an ocean of air pressing down upon her. To breathe would mean lifting the surface of that ocean a few imponderable inches.

“You are nothing like your uncle. He had no guidance, no spirit… he was alone in the world…, which is why the people he killed could never leave him. He carried them wherever he went.”

“I still see them, too.”

“But you have nothing to fear from them, and they will pass on… eventually. The sky speaks to you, doesn’t it? I saw the expression on your face when you surrendered, as if you were more relieved than alarmed.”

“It tells me to protect… to protect my priest. But…”

“Trust your heart, my girl”

Kathy banked left as they rounded the tip of Panay Island and charted a course north by northwest that would soon bring them on a direct line to Itbayat. Emily opened her eyes and glanced about the cabin.

“It’s time,’ Danko said, and handed Connie the satphone. “It doesn’t matter if anyone tracks our transmissions now.”

Connie punched in a code and waited for a response. When the Admiral came on the line, she laid out the situation.

“Yes, sir. We’ll be on scene by zero-four-thirty, but we’ll be seriously outgunned… I understand, sir.” She covered the microphone and turned to Emily. “There have been developments on the
BHR
, and the Admiral wants to speak to you.”

“Developments?”

“It seems that one of Kano’s people has a connection to the people behind the new regime in Tokyo. The translator, Lieutenant Otani, was found dead in her quarters… apparently she opened a vein in her neck… and Kano has placed one of his sergeants in lockdown.

“Tsukino?”

“Yes. How’d you know?” Emily made a face at her. “Well, he wants to speak to you.”

“Yes, Admiral,” she said, when Connie placed the phone in her hand. “Lieutenant Tenno, sir.”

“It’s good to hear your voice, Lieutenant. We really need you. Are you fit for service?”

“Thank you, sir. I’m ready.”

She didn’t exactly feel ready, though she knew perfectly well what she needed to be ready for. Many would perish tonight at her hands, more than ever before, and the thought of it made her stomach churn. But what choice did she have? Her friends were depending on her, as well as her men, not to mention the corps and the Navy… and Princess Toshi.

Beyond this schedule of loyalties, one other made a claim on her, the most paradoxical of all – Tsukino, the childhood sweetheart, the lost and utterly thwarted love of Gyoshin Heiji. She could not possibly be expected to act in the interest of the author of so much misery in the land of her ancestors… and yet she felt the tug of an obligation to her, or at least to him.

Kano came on the line, anxious to hear a confirmation of what the Admiral had told him, but this time from her. “It is as the Admiral says, Kano-san. We are headed to the island now, but you know I cannot be the one to bring her home.” She had shifted to Japanese to speak to him, since she knew everyone listening in would find the conversation not such as to inspire confidence, especially given the circumstances and Kiku’s suicide. She had no time to consider the significance of that act. Perhaps it would make sense later.

“How do you know the princess is still alive?”

“I don’t. But we cannot leave her there either way.”

“What assurance can you give me that this is not merely an effort to help the US Navy save face? I can’t risk my men’s lives on such a mission.”

“The Admiral would not risk my life on such a mission either. But even if you cannot trust him, or me… I’m going to get her whether you come or not.”

“
Hai, Tenno-san. Wakarimasu
.”

Like a silent nod of the head, Emily recognized Kano’s laconic statement of understanding as a binding commitment. But she knew her next request could undermine it all.

“Bring Tsukino.”

Kano resisted – “He is not to be trusted.” – but Emily insisted. They had been friends, she knew, to the extent that a commissioned officer could be a friend to a non-com. Perhaps the culture of the
Jietai
differed in this respect from her Marines. But the turmoil at home had undermined whatever trust Kano had been able to repose in Tsukino.

“We need him… this is important.”

“He is in league with the coup plotters. The daughter of the Heiji clan…”

“Gyoshin-san would never involve him in anything so dangerous… or dishonorable. She will have kept him entirely in the dark.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I met her in Sasebo. Don’t you remember the party? I saw it in her eyes. Tsukino knows nothing, nor will he act for her now in ignorance. That’s not who he is.” She said this with more confidence than she actually felt.
After all, what did she really know about men?

Kano was unpersuaded by her reasoning –
Why should he be? What did he know about women?
– but he also didn’t doubt that Emily would risk everything for the little princess. He wouldn’t leave her to face the danger alone.

Emily had a few remarks for Theo and the Admiral, who’d been standing next to Kano in the Secure-Comms room of the
Blue Ridge
, listening on speaker, though now she spoke in English.

“It will be a bloodbath, Admiral. I’ll do whatever it takes to retrieve her, and you need to work out how we can get her home. It may not be as simple as steaming into Sasebo and letting her walk down the gangway.”

“Captain Kim of the
Nimitz
airwing is developing a plan. He’ll have something to show me later today. Godspeed, Lieutenant.”

Theo relayed whatever tactical information could be entrusted to this connection. Emily knew Connie and Danko would already have worked out the rest. A moment later she ended the transmission, and looked at the phone in her hand. In what might prove to be her last hours on this earth, whose voice did she wish to hear? It would be early evening in Virginia, and they’d all be getting ready for dinner, except maybe Michael, who was probably still in DC sweating the latest intell, pulling another all-nighter.

Emily pressed the keys and hesitated before completing the connection – she so wanted to speak to them, to her mom and Andie, and especially to Stone and Li Li, but she couldn’t bear the thought of lying to the children. Did she have the strength to tell them the truth, to say goodbye to them? Her fingers tingled and she dropped the satphone in her lap, and her chin began to tremble.

She felt the air expand her chest and let it out again, slowly, and reflected on the strangeness of her predicament. In an hour or so, life would dangle her once again above the abyss – she was prepared to let Diao take her life if it would preserve Toshi’s, and maybe bring an end to the ‘new world order’ he and Gyoshin Heiji were attempting to make a reality. Did she really not have the courage to speak to her own family? Or, more importantly, did she have the courage not to?

She pressed a button and waited for a voice on the other end of the connection.

“Hi, Andie. Is my mom there?”

T
here would be a reckoning
, Gyoshin knew it all too well. The roar of the engines cleared her mind until the small plane’s fuselage tilted up, pressing her back into the headrest. She fingered the little phone she’d just paid cash for in the terminal, after the vendor assured her it would have enough charge for a few calls right away. Thinking about security in this way was foreign to her, and it had nothing to do with any concern for her personal safety. There would be a reckoning, and she was prepared to settle up, but she wasn’t prepared to let Haru-chan suffer for her crimes.

“Okamoto-san, I will not be able to come home tomorrow.” She motioned for the bodyguards to give her more room, and they moved to the back of the plane. Despite all the servants who’d passed through her grandfather’s house in her lifetime, she was unused to issuing commands and receiving deference.

“Hana-san is deeply concerned for your safety, Heiji-sama.”

“Have you told Haru-chan anything?”

“No. Even Hana-san doesn’t really understand, but we are all very worried.”

“Please, don’t lose sleep over me, Okamoto-san. Just take care of Haru-chan. She is all that matters now. The guards will keep the estate secure, but you must remain alert.”

“She misses her friends. Will she be able to go back to school next month?”

“Yes. Things will be back to normal in a week or two. I promise.”

Gyoshin shivered as she said these last words, since they meant something so different to her than to the old man. With the failure to secure the body of the American lieutenant, she felt the conspiracy beginning to slip away and didn’t expect to be alive within two weeks. Public opinion would be much more difficult to manipulate without the
hafu
, and though the sinking of the Chinese cruiser had gone as planned, mutinies on three other ships suggested that the
Jietai
would not accept their authority easily. If a prolonged internal struggle emerged, what public support they had ginned up so far would quickly evaporate.

The news from China was not good either. The PLA Navy had supported General Diao, or at least, they hadn’t intervened to stop him, but the Air Force had not taken his side, and he’d been counting on that. Even worse, his troops’ advance on Beijing had stalled just south of the city. Soga Jin thought it was a tactical move, that he was just waiting for air support against the loyalist armored units. But Gyoshin was sure it was all about Diao Ming, who had gone missing. She knew the General was expecting to have been joined by his son by now, and if he’d been captured or killed it would be a devastating blow. The Crown Prince’s bodyguard had killed several of Diao’s men, and she wondered if Diao was among them.