Reformation (15 page)

With the ambulance
parked just a quarter mile from the charter flight gates of Cairo International Airport, Frank rummaged through the storage cabinets looking for useful supplies.  Pillows, a defibrillator, IV bags and syringes were all tossed aside haphazardly until he finally located a portable oxygen tank.  He quickly stuffed the two feet long, six inch diameter cylinder along with a breathing mask attached into a carrying bag.  To that he added a heavy duty insulated blanket along with an ear piece and fingernail sized listening device he procured from the driver.  He then looked back at his data screen once more.

Nobody had left the Chinese embassy just yet, but
the presence of four escort cars outside let him know their departure was imminent.  Assuming they left the instant Frank stepped out of the ambulance, he figured he had at least fifteen minutes before they reached the airport to board the chartered plane.

The field agent who drove the ambulance had already used a set of high
-powered binoculars to locate the correct hangar.  The plane with a registered flight plan going to China sat with a flight crew undergoing final checks for departure.

“Do you want me to stick around or cause a distraction for you,” the driver a
sked as Frank made ready to open the passenger door.

“No, I don’t want to raise any suspicions that we are onto
them yet.  Just make sure our asset in the air traffic control tower knows what to do,” Frank answered and then slipped quietly out of the ambulance.  Before shutting the door the driver added a word of caution.

“Be ca
reful with that oxygen tank.  If it were to explode while that plane was in flight it would likely do enough damage to take even an aircraft that large out of the sky.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Frank said to himself as he silently close
d the door and pressed on it with both hands and his body weight until he heard a soft latch.  Then he slung the carrying bag over his shoulder, crossed the street and headed between two concrete buildings with a section of twelve foot tall fencing topped with razor wire tilting outward to prevent unwanted entry.

Frank climbed the fence until he stood just below the razor wire.  With two feet and a hand
firmly anchored into the chain-link fencing, he pulled the blanket out of his bag and flopped it over the top of the razor wire.  He then reached up and felt around until his probing hand located a section of covered wire between the jagged barbs.  He reached up with his other hand and located a similar hold.

Even with the thick blanket as protection, Frank could tell this was going to hurt
– a lot.  With a simultaneous pull from his arms and jump from his legs, Frank hoisted his torso up onto the covered wiring.  He leaned his weight onto his chest and then lifted his legs up and over the barrier.  As the momentum of his legs caused his chest to pivot on the wire one hundred eighty degrees, Frank felt the agonizing bite of a dozen razor blades penetrate the blanket and his clothing to carve up his chest.  It was all he could do not to release his grip, go fetal, and have a good cry in the corner while nursing his wounds.

With his legs now dangling on the airport side of the fence
, Frank relocated his hands down to the fence and gratefully pulled his chest off of the covered wiring.  He untangled the blanket and draped it over his shoulder as he frantically scurried back down to the ground and crouched low between two metal sided hangars while he packed the blanket back into his bag. 

He resisted the urge to look down at his chest to inspect the damage.  The nearly unbearable pain let him know it was bad, and looking at it would only make it hurt that much worse.  He smeared a h
and over his chest and looked at the result.  To his surprise only a few light dabs of blood were present, so at least he would not leave a trail of DNA for somebody to find later.

It would have been considerably easier and less painful to use wire cutters on the fence, but he needed his entry to be undetected.  Nothing said a bad guy got in like a section of fence between buildings all cut up.  The damage would likely go unnoticed for a while, but the Chinese were nothing if not thorough with their security details.  It would be spotted eventually and then
the already stringent security would tighten up to be nearly impenetrable.

Frank made his way between the
hangars until pausing a few steps from the opening.  He was positioned right at the elbow of a ninety degree turn of the jet taxiway that led down a path with hangars flanking it on either side.  The target hangar was inconveniently located across the jet taxiway two hangars down on the left.  Frank had a perfect view into the large open air hangar featuring a wide body plane parked in the center with four wing mounted engines idling with a fuel truck feeding it.

A cursory review of the
hangar’s security confirmed what the other agent already told Frank.  At least six cameras canvassed the building inside and out along with eight men wearing dark suits patrolling the vicinity.  Breaching security that tight would be nearly impossible, but the good Lord blessed Frank with a heavy brain pan and a set of stones to use it.

Frank patiently waited among the shadows between the two
hangars until the Chinese caravan finally arrived from the embassy.  They hastily loaded Professor Russell and Alex on board without any signs of a fuss.  Immediately after everyone boarded the plane the rickety steps were rolled away, the outer door was locked shut and the engines powered up to send the plane taxiing directly toward Frank’s position.  They certainly were itching to get on the move.

When the Chinese plane began rolling
, Frank also spotted a small sized private plane heading toward him from the right.  The two planes looked destined to collide right at the bend where Frank had so strategically positioned himself.  As the colossal Chinese aircraft completed the turn it came face to face with the relatively tiny incoming plane and skidded to a halt.  The two planes stared each other down in a contest that could only be described as David against Goliath.  A moment passed and little David began turning around to make way for Goliath.

While that little drama played out right in front of Frank, he dashed out from his cover and jumped onto the stationary set of tires
on the plane’s back right side.  He quickly climbed his way up into the wheel well and pushed open the heavy metal hatch that allowed him entry into the craft’s underbelly.

Frank tossed his bag into the
plane and then he followed it and shut the wheel well lid behind him.  If the Chinese security detail was paying close enough attention they would have had about five seconds to notice Frank’s movements among the tires and struts of the landing gear.  If he was spotted he would know it in just a few seconds as an onboard security detail would come storming into the plane’s cargo hold underneath the seating deck.

The passing of several anxious minutes saw the plane finally rolling again and no guards pointing lethal weapons at Frank’s head.  Now confident
his entry was unnoticed, Frank made his way through the cargo hold searching for an adequate hiding place.

Unfortunately for
him, the passengers upstairs appeared to be traveling rather light.  Behind walls of cargo netting all he could see were standard sized suit cases and garment bags.  He did notice six coffin sized wooden crates, but dismissed them as food containers that would remain onboard the plane when it finally landed in China.  A second glance at the crates allowed his eye to catch a black ink stamp on one of them.  It stated in bold letters ‘Property of Columbia University.’

An angry snarl consumed Frank’s face as he shook his head, “Those thieving little bastards.”

Frank pried open the lid to one of them and confirmed his suspicion. The Chinese had indeed confiscated the professor’s research equipment and were transporting it back to China along with the people who knew how to use it.

At that moment Frank felt the plane rapidly picking up speed.  He sat down on the floor and braced
his back against the stack of wooden crates as the aircraft took to the sky.  Once the jostling of initial takeoff maneuvers were complete, Frank went back to work.

He quickly emptied one of the crates with a ground emitter and Alex’s laptop stored inside.  He took a moment to pop the casing away from the laptop and at
tached his listening bug to the inside and hooked the device into the computer’s central power supply.  He closed it back up and proceeded to cram the computer and extra emitter inside another crate and managed to shut the lid tight again. This left Frank with a completely empty wooden box the size of a grown man to play with.

Frank fought his
way through the cold and lightheaded feeling that began overtaking him as the plane rose higher into the atmosphere.  Soon the unpressurized cabin would not support life anymore.  He hastily lined the wooden crate with his heavy blanket and lay the oxygen tank and mask at one end.  He then climbed in and pulled the lid down tightly to leave him in complete darkness.

He secured the oxygen mask over his
face and turned the knob on top of the tank to start the flow of air.  Instantly, Frank felt his cloudy mind clear.  Next, he wrapped the blanket tightly around himself and braced for the long, lonely, and extremely cold flight.

**********

Back on the Giza Plateau Mark greeted the arrival of his boss, Terrance.  The man did not travel lonely as a cluster of six midnight black town cars came to a stop among the sandy vista.

Mark was not the least bit surprised to see the NSA executive committee member step out of his car still wearing a pressed suit and tie rather than grungy clothes for field work.

“Lucky for you I was attending a conference in Rome when you called,” were the first words spoken by Terrance.

“Welcome back to the field
,” Mark exclaimed and followed it up with a nauseatingly bright smile and an extended hand.

Terrance ignored the offer
ed handshake and simply looked back at the row of black cars and tossed his head forward as if to say ‘come on already’.  Dutifully, doors popped open and a cadre of hard men began stepping out.

“What do we have?
” Terrance demanded of Mark.

“Six SEALs have the
tunnel entrance secured while two others and I have been holding down the command area.  Unfortunately, the Egyptian military showed up with a few hundred more men here and at the tunnel entrance.  That should make things a little more interesting for you, but it is their country after all,” Mark responded and then leaned to the side at the waist to look behind Terrance.  “Now, what do you have?”

Terrance casually turned his h
ead from side to side evaluating his surroundings.  Without addressing Mark directly he answered, “Muscle, and if the President’s scientific advisor is worth his salt, I should soon have presidential authority to take whatever action I deem necessary.”

“There is no need for
that just yet,” Mark cautioned.  “We have them contained for the time being so give me time with this leader of theirs.”

“Speaking of t
ime, you should be going.  My plane is set to take you directly there,” Terrance said as he walked past Mark like he didn’t even exist.

Glancing around at the unloading cars
, Mark knew the doubts he harbored about leaving Terrance alone in Egypt were well-founded.  He knew the man could be heavy-handed, but soon the President would hand him unlimited authority; which likely included nuclear assets relocating to the region.  The situation was definitely trouble.

When Kublai Khan
arrived at the besieged fortress of Xiangyang he instantly understood how the city was able to withstand the siege for so long.  The imposing fortress walls stood thirty feet high and utilized the river as a natural moat that was over a hundred yards wide.

All along the shoreline his soldiers manned no fewer than a thousand traction trebuchets.  These simple siege engines consisted of a tripod frame with a long arm attached at the top
with only a few feet overhanging the front, while the majority of the beam’s length extended away from the target.  When ready, six men yanked on ropes hanging down from the short end to propel the long arm upward with enough velocity to fling a fifty pound stone high into the air.

Kublai
Khan observed the crews launching their projectiles over and over with nearly every shot splashing along the opposite shoreline rather than striking the city walls. 

“Come on, put your backs into it,” General
Kang bellowed.  “Do I need the whore from my bed last night to show you how to pull on something to get results?”

That crass little barb did the trick.  The six pullers proved their manhood with a mighty yank that sent the missile noticeably higher than before.  A few seconds later the stone slammed into the fortress wall about six feet up from ground level and blasted out a chunk the size of a man’s head.   Between the time it took the trebuchet crew to reset and reload
, a repair crew from the fortress was already cementing over the damaged area.

Encouraged by their successful strike, the crew launched the next projectile just as far, but scored a hit at least ten feet to the right of the
first impact.  A third shot fell short again as the launch crew was now tired.

“We just can’t throw them far enough,
often enough, and with enough accuracy to do any real damage,” General Kang reported in frustration.

Kublai
Khan regarded the man with great annoyance.  “I have eyes, General.  That inability to do damage is why I am here now.”

Kang looked away from the city walls toward the new machine being assembled.  “This
contraption of yours will certainly throw a heavier stone, but I am not sure it will reach the target.  You are building it too far back.”

Kublai
Khan regarded the massive weapon with glowing pride.  It stood twenty feet high and was built much like the traction trebuchets, only to a much larger scale.  Other than sheer size, the key difference was a gigantic wooden bucket attached to the short end of the throwing arm rather than ropes.  It was in the process of being filled to the top with rubble to serve as a counterweight for the contraption.  Rather than using manpower, the device would rely on gravity to pull down the bucket and fling the projectile much farther than a group of men possibly could.

“Any closer and the fortress mig
ht be able to hit it with flaming arrows or caldrons to try and destroy it,” Kublai countered.  “Come, it looks like they are about ready to fire a test shot.  If this is successful, we brought enough lumber in our wagon train to build at least four more.”

The two men paced back from the shore line and climbed to the top of a thirty foot tall observation tower erected a short distance from the new counterweight trebuchet.  From the top they were able to view over the walls and into the city to see people going ab
out their daily lives as though the besieging army was not even there.  That was about to change.

Kublai
Khan waited for a team of ten men to load a five hundred pound boulder into the launch channel resting between the frame legs.  When the crew stepped away he ordered, “Fire when ready.”

Moments later a chorus of
creaks and groans from the weapon’s wood frame cried out as five thousand pounds of weight was set into motion.  There was a thunderous crash when the counterweight bucket rotated to the low point of its drop.  Frantic flapping of fabric in the wind soon followed as the sling flung the boulder high into the air.

The projectile cleared the city wall and crashed down onto a wooden bridge built across a sewer canal in the center of town.  The boulder re
duced the bridge to splinters and imbedded the projectile several feet deep into the ground. 

Like a stone lobbed into a lake, terror rippled from the point of impact all the way out to the
city walls.  Women grabbed their children and dashed indoors, as if the thatched roof would provide any protection when the bombardment began in earnest.

Kublai
Khan’s self-satisfied glow was immediately extinguished the moment he looked back at his proud new weapon of destruction.  The trebuchet still stood, but numerous cracks and hairline fractures riddled the weapon’s frame.  He and General Kang rushed down from the watch tower to assess the damage.

“What happened?”
Kublai Khan asked.

“
With that much weight set into motion and suddenly stopping, the damn thing nearly shook itself apart,” the lead engineer reported while practically pulling the hair out of his head in frustration as he looked upon the frail machine.  “One or two more shots like that and this weapon will be nothing but firewood.”

The man paused to look at
Kublai and bowed his head slightly in obedience.  He did not want his words to in any way be considered a leadership challenge.  “Mighty Khan, this magnificent device is your design, how should we proceed?”

Kublai
Khan vented a frustrated huff through his nose and headed for his command tent.  “I must meditate on it.”

He did not say another word, he simply threw open the entrance flap
to his tent and let it flop closed on its own behind him.  Without stopping he moved into his bed chamber to consult with the divine spirit of his god.  Flanking the robust flame on either side of the trunk stood two of his magnificent hound warriors.

Kublai
Khan sunk to his knees and addressed his deity with the utmost respect.  “Mighty god, the machine is indeed powerful as you promised, but I fear it is too powerful.  It nearly tore itself apart on the test fire.  My engineers tell me it will not survive launching another volley.  I may need the services of your warriors to complete this conquest as I did in the Dali valley.”

A shudder rippled through the divine flame upon hearing the request. 
“My warriors are not at your beck and call.  The less they are seen the better.  As for the machine, did you mount the trebuchet on four wheels as I instructed.”

Kublai
Khan sheepishly looked for a hole to crawl into before answering.  “Actually no, my engineers assured me the machine would be too large to roll about the battlefield on wheels.  A device as powerful as this needed to be anchored to the ground for stability.”

“So you chose to defy your god in favor of those uneducated buffoons taking their best guess?”  The flame instantly tripled in intensity as it spoke
further.  “I do not tolerate insubordination in my followers.  You either have complete faith in me or you do not.”

To emphasize the severity of the situation, the seven foot hound standing to
the flame’s right drew his blade and stood ready to enforce the divine will.

“I am your humble servant,”
Kublai begged.

“Then do as I instructed.  Mount the trebuchet on four wheels and behold the wonders of my knowledge.”

Kublai Khan slowly rose to his feet and bowed at the waist until his chest lay parallel to the ground.  “Thy will be done.”  With that he backed out of the bedchamber and straightened to his full height only after the curtains had closed.  Then he paced toward the machine with purpose in every stride.

Two days later the
august presence of the counterweight trebuchet rested upon four wooden wheels as tall as a man and just as thick.  Knowing that the device being anchored firmly to the ground caused it to nearly shake itself to pieces made Kublai Khan cringe at the thought of what it might do on wheels.  However, he trusted his god, or rather feared his wrath, far too much to disobey him.

“Ready when you are,” General Kang said standing next to him atop the observation tower once more.

“Then by all means,” he said with a hesitant pause.  “Fire.”

The engineer tugged the release lever and then ran for his life.
  With the first firing, the counterweight bucket followed a circular arch around the fulcrum point on its way toward the ground.  This time the bucket dropped straight down which rolled the entire machine backwards several feet, but then the massive frame suddenly lurched forward, adding speed and momentum to the throw as the weight effortlessly swung under the fulcrum point. 

Rather than tearing itself apart with an awkward and jarring motion, the rolling wheels gave the machine a beautifully smooth and efficient transfer of energy into the trebuchet’s arm and missile.  Not only did the device survive the throw, the added momentum caused it to launch the boulder clear to the backside of the city and obliterated three houses before the stone
finally came to rest.

General Kang’s face lit up with surprise and immediately transitioned to admiration
of the potential.  “Brilliant.”

“
I’d say that is sufficient proof of concept,” Kublai Khan calmly stated, while resisting the urge to perform an excited backflip.  “Commence construction of the rest.”

A week later five massive counterweight trebuchets reduced the city walls to rubble in a matter of hours and the Mongol army consumed the city like a swarm of locusts.  For three days the horrifying wails of rape and murder filled the air and carried the three mile distance to the twin fortress around the city of
Fancheng.

As Kublai
Khan’s army approached the new target with their massive bombardment tools, they did not even have to bother setting up.  The city gates willingly opened and welcomed them with open arms.

Kublai
Khan entered the city surrounded by his honor guard and was greeted by the city administrator holding the last three members of the Song royal family in irons. 

“Yes, these gifts will do nicely, and I welcome you in
to the fold of the Yuan Dynasty,” Kublai Khan declared.