Chapter 42
Gushan tapped his finger lightly against the side of the carbine he carried across his chest. He and eight similarly armed men were waiting in the hangar along with Admiral Li, who insisted on being there to send them off.
Time ticked by. Reports came in. The orange NUMA transport was still driving along the coast road. The helicopter had turned to the north and was continuing along the length of the fjord. “They’re looking for something,” the admiral insisted.
Gushan nodded, though he was thinking more than listening. The Americans were traveling at an altitude of fifty feet. They seemed to be following the jagged coastline, but had yet to accelerate past eighty knots.
Why so slow? Gushan wondered. Safety was not really an issue over the flat waters. It was an odd velocity to use. Too fast to drag a sonar sled, too slow to cover much ground.
“American helicopter turning,” a new report came in.
Perhaps they’d found something after all.
“It’s heading back this way,” the drone operator said. “New course is the reciprocal of the old course.”
“They must have seen the drone,” the admiral suggested.
“Impossible,” Gushan said, shaking him off.
“The helicopter’s navigation lights are coming on,” the drone pilot replied. “It’s climbing and accelerating. It’s transponder beacon just went active.”
Gushan’s mind spun. The admiral barked questions. A minor state of confusion set in.
“What course is it on?” Gushan demanded.
“Back toward the harbor,” the drone pilot told them. “Back toward their ship.”
At that moment, Gushan knew they’d lost.
The helicopter was another distraction, much like the bright orange SUV. Its clandestine takeoff had convinced him it carried Austin and Zavala, and he had ordered the drone to follow it, abandoning his best mode of surveilling the NUMA ship.
He had no doubt that Austin and Zavala had slipped out once the drone had left its station. That was nearly an hour ago.
“Bring the drone back to the ship,” Gushan ordered. “Tell the pilots to secure the helicopter.”
Admiral Li stepped toward him. “What are you doing?”
“I’m standing down,” Gushan said, leaning his weapon against the bulkhead and releasing the Velcro strap on his tactical vest before sliding it off.
“Why?”
“Because it’s over,” Gushan said, admitting defeat. “Austin and Zavala are not on that helicopter. They’re elsewhere. They’ve no doubt found the plane. They’ve won.”
With that, Gushan walked away, trudging slowly and dejectedly across the hangar deck.
The admiral wasn’t satisfied. “Explain this to me,” he demanded. “How did this happen? How did they trick us?”
Gushan kept walking.
“Major! I want answers.”
Gushan left the hangar without responding. There would be plenty of time for explanations once they reached China and the search for a scapegoat began.