Girl Rides the Wind (7 page)

As fierce as Yan seemed, she knew that a greater ferocity had entered the ring when Diao himself stepped forward. Calm and placid as his face appeared, she felt nothing behind his eyes, even when he turned to look directly at her. Blank, impassive, almost indifferent to her presence… almost, but not quite. Did she detect a smoldering resentment there, the sort that can hide behind a smile, and a rage that dares not give itself away? Or was this merely her own recriminations, magnified perhaps in the vast echo chamber of a floating metal sarcophagus?

“Holy crap,” Durant blurted out, when Diao blocked a furious combination with the point of his elbow and a sharp blow to Yan’s ankle. “Does he really want to do that to his own men?” Before he even had a chance to stumble out of range, Diao had hit him with three paired strikes, the first two more like slaps than punches, snaked artfully over and under ineffective blocks, not forceful enough to disable, but sufficient to set up the haymakers that followed.

When Diao turned to find her eyes, Emily knew she should no longer provide an audience for this display of martial prowess, and began to work her way over to the forward elevator. A breeze ruffled her hair as it came in through the huge door, beyond which the lift platform opened on to the ocean, providing much of the light on the scene. She wanted to let herself drift across the panorama of the South China Sea, to skip across the white tops of waves, or plunge beneath them and let her lungs feel the weight of the water as the five sets of screws of the Amphibious Squadron twisted and churned the sea above her. If only the reverie would actually carry her away from this moment.

Leaning against a bulkhead by the elevator, she breathed in the fresh air and let it carry her down, sinking past the sylvan landscapes that usually occupied her meditations. Could she find her way to the bottom, and walk along valleys and mountains shrouded by the sea? Emily yearned for an escape, to feel the weight of so much water squeezing her, holding her together, protecting her from a premature dissolution. But the scene shifted before she quite found what she sought in the depths.

Back on the battlefield again, placing each foot with care, heel to toe, she watched dispassionately as soldiers charged careened towards an enemy dug in on the hillside. Emily paid no heed to the volley of arrows whistling through the air, though they found flesh in the men all around her. Many soldiers fell, but plenty more made it through, and crashed through the line of spears poised to pierce them as they ran.

Calm amid the mayhem, Emily breathed slowly and felt the grass crinkle between her toes. A red mist hovered in the already humid air, dissipated a moment later by a rising breeze. Dark clouds rolled over the mountain and swirled around her. She cast her head back and gazed overhead, the rain pelting her face… and she spied the little girl contemplating her from on high, serene as the moon itself. The girl reached down a tiny hand to still the wind, and with outstretched arm, Emily rose up on her toes to touch it. A spark lit up her fingers, and a crash like lightning echoed in her ears, almost like a cheer and a gasp.

She turned to look with newly focused eyes as Diao finished with Yan, and saw the awe and admiration in the faces watching from the edge of the mats. After Yan limped off, pairs of men now faced him, 2x4s in hand, and Emily found herself standing near a knot of the
Jietai
, including Dice, Moon and Kano.

“Do you think they have permission to win?” Dice asked.

“Even if they do, I doubt they’d really hit him with one of those things,” Kano said. “Would you?”

Emily watched as Diao waved in the last pair, and tried to ignore Dice’s carping.
What were they watching?
His form might not have been flawless, but his speed and intensity were extreme.
Can’t they see it?
She scanned the crowd and saw the same expression everywhere, on the
Jietai
, on the Marines – they seemed entranced by Diao’s skill, even cheered when he disarmed one man and threw the other out of the makeshift ring. He landed on the bare floor and struggled to pick himself up. All the while, Diao’s face remained impassive, even indifferent to his men, to the crowd, to everything but her, or so it seemed. She tried to avoid making eye contact with him.

“Can’t they see how horrible this is, how ugly he is? He’s a feral beast.” The thought echoed inside her, and triggered a second, more painful reflection: “Is that how I look to people? Am I that ugly?”

She shivered and turned to see Moon pushing Dice out of his way. Diao had finished with his own men, and now glowered a challenge at the crowd, and the movement must have caught her eye.

“
Yame, Tsukino-san
,” she cried out almost before she realized that sounds were coming out of her mouth, and Kano snarled at her. Moon merely scowled and stepped into the ring.

“This is none of your affair.” – Emily stepped back when Kano warded her off with a gesture – “You have no authority over my men. why do you even care?”

The question froze her. She did care – not just about another human being’s suffering, but Moon in particular. A glance around the hangar showed her the other faces she ought to care about more, Perry standing a few feet away surrounded by Marines whose attention was glued to Diao’s every move… even Tarot and Racket. She spied them, lingering in the back, even Tarot and Racket had found their way to the hangar deck. She spotted the gleam in their eyes, the puppyish admiration for a shiny, new sensation, and knew how easily it could place them in harm’s way. At first, they’d overestimate Diao’s abilities, but soon enough their own boyish exuberance would egg them on, until they’d want to try their luck against him… and that’s exactly what it would be, luck, bad luck.

“He has no chance. He’ll get hurt,” she said.

“Do not cheat him of the chance to regain his honor.”

Moon had already exchanged a few strikes and blocks with Diao, and with Dice cheering him on, his spirits were running high. His technique looked crisp by comparison when Diao slapped at his ankle with a low kick and swung a slow hook wide at his head. An easy arm-block allowed Moon to step through the kick and strike hard and fast at his chest and face. It looked like a decisive move…

But Emily saw something else. In a flash, all that had been impenetrable in Diao became transparent. She saw, as if she were looking through his eyes, Moon lunging forward, confident in his strength and skill. And she recognized that he was prey more than an opponent. The feral view through Diao’s eyes bathed everything and everyone in the hangar bay in a lurid yellow light, and she knew what that meant, what must be coming. Diao’s elbow block – fiercer than anything he’d done so far – would buckle Moon’s wrist. At that moment, she savored the pain that would scorch his face, anticipated the instant of his recoil, Diao’s hands – her hands – would seize the wrist, twisting and punching through the back of his elbow and kicking through the opposite knee. Moon would crumple, screaming, to the floor, broken, mangled and then she’d silence him for good with a sharp kick to the throat.

“
Ii-ye
,” Emily shrieked. “
Yamete… kudasai
.” But it was too late to stop him, and he stepped into the trap. A hard elbow block caught him on the knuckles – even through the glove, the pain buckled his wrist – and, before he could react, Diao had already struck him several times, in the face, the arms, chest and groin. He stumbled back and fell to his knees, and Diao loomed over him, ready to deliver a finishing blow.

“Enough,” Perry shouted, and inserted himself between the two men. Dice and Kano helped Moon up and pulled him away as Emily looked on. Diao tilted his head in her direction and smiled.

“You knew,” Kano said, a few moments later, while Dice and Perry tended to Moon. “Even before it happened.” Emily shook her head. “How did you know?”

She stared at him, without anger or resentment. “I only knew what I would have done.” It hurt more than she expected to make such an admission, especially when she glanced over at Tarot and Racket.

T
he grind
of life on a warship tends to bring its own inertial motivation, a daily round of meetings, exercises and tasks, occasionally interrupted by a “live” mission. Three times, Emily’s bird had flown the teams out to islands at the southern end of the Philippine archipelago, and each time they’d come up empty, finding only the detritus of abandoned camps. All the while, the Amphibious Squadron steamed eastward, heading for the Marianas where another set of exercises had been scheduled. The Devil Dogs understood what it meant – “Operation Seabreeze” was as much about fostering cooperation as about catching actual terrorists.

Meanwhile, Emily frequented the “dirty shirt” wardroom, which catered to the aircrews. CJ and Zaki preferred to take their meals in the XO’s wardroom, but Emily didn’t care for the formality, and cafeteria-style service suited her mood better these days.

“Are you hiding down here?” Perry asked, as he swung a leg over the chair opposite and nudged his tray against hers to make room.

“Do I have to answer?”

“Aren’t you afraid the senior staff is gonna notice your absence?”

“Yeah, and I hear the ship’s company gets better food,” Emily replied without looking up.

“The CO has been hinting that he wants another translator at meals.” He looked for any sort of reaction, even annoyance at his suggestion, and when none was forthcoming, he added: “With you down here, Diao has everything his way with the conversation.”

“Hasn’t it occurred to you that he’s the reason I’m down here?”

“You’re not afraid of him, are you? That would be a first.” When she raised her eyes, he got a pretty good indication that he’d pushed her too far.

“Not
of him
,” she snarled, “…
for everyone else
.” Of course, she knew there was another opportunity here. She could go to the XO’s wardroom and push back against Diao, test his self-possession, find the limits of his ‘cool.’ But she didn’t care to work out a calculation of costs and benefits. Was it better to draw him out, perhaps expose him to the others, even if it meant allowing him to see into her heart?

“Well, as far as everyone else can tell, he’s witty and charming, even
urbane
.”

“I can see your vocabulary is growing merely by eating with him.”

“It’s not just me. Kano and your friend, Lt Otani, seem to have taken a liking to him. And that should tell you something, after what happened to Tsukino.”

Emily looked up, her eyes wide and brow furrowed.
Was she leaving Kiku exposed… and why didn’t Kano see through Diao?
Then she composed her face and said, “I hope Tsukino’s learned his lesson, at least.”

“What do you mean?”

“Moon got off easy this time around. If he tries that again with Diao…”

“Look, I get it. You saw something. But all anyone else in the hangar bay saw is that Diao got a little carried away. It didn’t look sinister… just high spirits.”

“I didn’t just
see
something.
He let me see
. He showed me what he would do, you know… when the moment comes.”

“Why would he do that? I mean, if he’s got some secret plan, why would he clue you in?”

“I don’t know, but what you think you saw wasn’t just high spirits. He was under control the whole time, toying with Tsukino like a cat with a mouse, and deciding whether to end him or not. He simply chose not to. You and Kano had nothing to do with it.”

“Even if you’re right, you still need to be in the black-shoe mess. It’s a hint from the CO right now, but pretty soon it’ll be a suggestion from the Admiral.”

“Is this a private party, Lieutenant Commander, or can anybody join?” Captain Tim Martinovich asked as he slid his tray along the table, not waiting for an answer. The entire airwing knew him as Tunafish, even if Emily resisted this informality. He’d been her flight instructor at Camp Pendleton, even been at her “winging” ceremony, but none of that mattered, especially when Perry had gotten her into such a foul mood.

Perry turned to look, half-surprised at the interruption, until he remembered where they were. “No, sir, please join us,” Emily said, relieved to be able to change the subject.

“Because I can’t have you rattling my nugget’s cage, Mr. Hankinson,” he said. “We’ve got a full slate of fast-rope exercises this afternoon with the Chinese this afternoon, and I need her at the top of her game.”

“He still calls you his nugget after how many hundreds of hours on the stick?” Perry asked.

“If you keep ‘sirring’ me at all the wrong moments, I’m gonna have to ask the devil-dogs what the latest call sign for you is,” Martinovich said. “I’m sure the high-and-tights down in the training room can tell me.”

“It’s Ninja,” she muttered.

“That’s not very imaginative,” Perry said. “It’s like they’re not even trying. Though I guess it’s an improvement over Canine.”

“Canine?” Martinovich asked.

“You don’t want to know,” Emily said.

“At least it’s not Bosnia.”

“Bosnia?” Perry asked, as Emily made a show of leaning over to examine Martinovich’s rear end.

“You’ve been ashore too long, Mr. Hankinson. It mean’s Fat Ass, more or less,” he said. “And yes, Miss Tenno, I realize this flight suit doesn’t flatter my hind quarters, but at least they’re ‘Standard Navy Issue’.”

“As is your butt… sir,” Emily said.

“I don’t think anyone can say the same about yours.”

“Can we change the subject?” Perry said.

“Sure,” Martinovich said. “How about we discuss Ninja’s troubles finding a place to stow that shotgun onboard my Phrog?”

“Won’t it fit behind her seat?”

“It fell out during a hard bank the other day.”

“Don’t worry, sir. It’s not gonna go off by accident. All the safeties were set. It just needs a bit of sticky.”

“Why does she even need all that ordinance on her person anyway? A standard sidearm is plenty, especially if it’s that cannon she’s got strapped on her hip.”

“What can I say? I believe in being prepared.”

“Have you tried writing her up for it?” Perry asked with a wink in her direction.

“Yeah, right. Like your compadre wouldn’t make me eat the paper, and if he didn’t, I’d probably hear about it from the Admiral. It really is like having a spec-ops co-pilot… and don’t get me started about the sword she insists on bringing along. I mean, that damn thing has gotta be at least two feet long. Is a Ka-Bar too small for her?”

“I’m just testing out the shoulder-rig I have for it. But if it makes you feel any better, I won’t bring it on any more training missions.”

“You crack me up, Tenno. Don’t you know it makes me feel just that little bit safer knowing you’re armed to the teeth in the seat next to me?”

O
f course
, Emily’s absence from the XO’s wardroom left Kiku in an uncomfortable position. Her own English skills sufficed to translate what Kano said for the Americans, but she could not always translate what the Americans said for him. Cpl Iwatani helped out from time to time, when he wasn’t occupied with Capt Ongpin, since his knowledge of English was better, but she feared the inference Kano might make about her mission-relevance if she relied too much on his assistance.

“The Marianas exercises will come just in time,” the XO, Capt Robert “Tex” Torricelli said, after everyone had cleared the buffet line. “There were still some rough edges to be worked out in the last action.”

“Then it’s a good thing our intell was worthless,” Theo offered, as he shook out his napkin. “If we’d actually met any actual terrorists….”

Torricelli scowled and Capt Ongpin chattered out some sort of protest, while Cpl Iwatani translated: “We are dependent on Chinese satellite imagery for the westward reef-islands. I cannot be held responsible for the delays in getting that data.”

“Obviously, our satellite technology is years behind the Americans,” Capt Diao said in very polished English. “Perhaps if our hosts would be willing to reposition one of their many satellites a little further east, we could have all the accurate intell you require.”

“You claim that these terrorists are working with the Moro Liberation Front,” Theo said. “But so far, we’ve seen no evidence of this. How about you show us the intell that supports that conjecture?”

“Unfortunately, those files are classified above my security clearance,” Diao said.

“That’s convenient,” Theo muttered.

“It is possible that the terrorists have advance knowledge of the movements of this squadron.”

“Since we remain behind the curve, do you mean they have access to better satellite data than you do, Mr. Diao?” Torricelli asked.

“That would be strange, indeed,” Diao replied. “But could they not merely be responding to sightings of your AV-8B Harrier jets, or your ASW Helicopters, which typically precede the squadron’s arrival, and do not remain hidden behind the horizon?”

“Can they really pack up everything in two hours?” Kano said, after a tedious passage of translations managed by Lt Otani and Cpl Iwatani. “That hardly seems plausible.”

“Perhaps sightings from the earlier raids…” Diao said, until Theo interrupted.

“They didn’t remove everything. What about all those stubbed out Chunghwa’s we found at the first encampment?”

“Yes,” Kano said. “There must not have been sufficient warning.”

“I prefer Lucky Strikes,” Diao said. “Anyway, this tells us nothing. The Chunghwa brand is distributed widely.”

“But it is most popular among ethnic Chinese throughout the region,” Cpl Iwatani blurted out. He went quiet after Capt Ongpin cleared his throat.

“The ethnic Chinese have not been known to join terrorist groups,” Kiku added. “At least not…”

“Are you insinuating that outside agents are working with the terrorists?” Diao glowered at her as he spoke.

“There’s little evidence to support that conclusion,” Torricelli said. “What is clear, however, is that you have not achieved full operational readiness. I don’t want any friendly fire incidents.”

“Two weeks of exercises in the Marianas ought to help with that,”

Theo said.

“I think some of your Marines are expecting sandy beaches and surf,” Diao said.

“Oh, there will be some surf, but precious little sand. Mostly what we’ll see is the broken calderas of ancient volcanoes, with jagged, rocky shorelines and sheer cliffs.”

“Sounds like a tea party,” Kano said, after hearing Kiku’s translation.

“Then we return to CFA Sasebo to prepare for the second phase of Operation Seabreeze,” Torricelli said. As people filed out of the wardroom, he added for Theo’s benefit, “It wouldn’t hurt if we had more translators. Even around this table it’s hard for Otani and Iwatani to keep up.”

Theo glanced at Kiku and said, “Don’t worry, sir. Hankinson’s talking to her. But, operationally, she can’t help much, unless we send her on the missions.”

“I know SECNAV is curious about her, and the Admiral probably wouldn’t complain too loudly if she found herself at the front of an action, but it’s not gonna happen on my watch.”

Kiku didn’t understand everything they said, but that it concerned her friend was clear enough. Michiko pushed limits in ways that shocked her, but for some reason the Americans did not share her horror at this… as if they had no sense of the improprieties.

Diao had lingered at the door, no doubt to listen in, and she pushed past him, shaking her head. In the passageway, she heard him proposing an expansion of Lt Tenno’s role in the upcoming exercises.

“It’s a relatively safe way to see what she might be able to contribute,” she thought he said.