the handset from the commo operator.
“Green Throne, Green Throne,” he said. “This is Alligator. Do you
read, over?”
“Alligator, Green Throne. We read you. Go ahead.”
“No joy on primary,” he said. The words hurt as he said them. But
there was no way now to find any American prisoners in that camp.
“Repeat, no joy.
Crocodile is engaging.” Crocodile referred to the That contingent, and
he wanted Green Throne to know that it was the locals who’d screwed the
pooch.
“Understood, Alligator,” the voice on the handset said. “Green Throne”
was Colonel John Caruso, monitoring the action from his CIC back on
board the Chosin. Communications were being relayed through a circling
Navy Hawkeye somewhere over central Thailand. “Revert to original op
plan. We will direct Chickenhawk and Thunderbird to move in.”
“Roger that, Green Throne. Wilco. Alligator, out.” He handed the
radio handset back to the commo operator. “Okay, Sciaparelli. Hohum.
Break out the GLDs. Move it! Move it! We don’t have all day.” In
fact, he knew, they had very little time now at all.
It was too damned bad about those Western prisoners the Karens had
reported seeing. But there was nothing more that could be done for them
now.
0748 hours, 21 January
U Feng
Hsiao was gathering his maps and papers when an aide entered his office.
Hua! Get my pilot. Have him ready my helicopter. And send some men
to get the Americans and bring them here.”
“You are leaving, General?”
Hsiao nodded. “It is perhaps best if I take the Americans to Mong-koi.”
“It could be dangerous. The air battle-”
“I shall be traveling at treetop level, and the border is only a few
minutes away. The Americans will not pursue me into Burma.”
“Yes, sir.”
“A precautionary measure only, Hua. I think it best that I and my
prisoners stay out of the line of fire until after the Q-5s destroy the
That forces.”
“As you command, General.”
The aide hurried out, and Hsiao began gathering his maps and papers.
This was more than precaution, he admitted to himself. The arrival of
the American carrier planes had been a complete surprise. Wu might be
holding them at bay, but at last word he’d lost five aircraft doing it,
with no American kills reported yet. The Yankees’ technology and their
skill might yet turn the battle against his forces. If Wu was defeated,
Dao’s Q-5s, now on the way across the border from Burma, would be easy
prey. And if the Q-5 attack was stopped, the That assault would come,
possibly within minutes.
He did not wish to be in the area if that happened.
From Burma, Hsiao could retain control of his forces whatever happened,
and the American prisoners would give him considerable bargaining power,
both with the Thais and the Burmese. He might even be able to make a
deal with the Americans, if they thought highly enough of their female
news reporter.
He collected the last of his papers and strode unhurriedly from the
room.
CHAPTER 27
0748 hours, 21 January
U Feng
“Made It!” Pamela said. “What’s that? Shooting?”
She’d heard the sound before in the streets of Bangkok, a distant
rattling sound. It was hard to associate that fireworks snapping with
gunfire and death.
“Sure as hell is,” Bayerly said, listening. “We’d better get ready to
didi.”
“Pardon?”
“Di di mau. Move out!”
“Move?” she asked, confused. “Where?”
Bayerly jerked his head toward the door. “Gunfire means someone’s
closing in. Probably a pretty big op if it’s supported by Tomcats off
the Jeff. These bozos here can’t afford to let us go or get rescued.
They’ll either move us, maybe try to use us for bargaining later … or
they’ll shoot us.”
“Oh, God …”
He gave her a tight-lipped smile. He seemed calmer now than he had
earlier, calmer and more self-possessed. “Something tells me our friend
Hsiao isn’t going to want witnesses around talking about his part in
things. Like kidnapping, torture, and murder for a start. Or
revolution.” He stood next to the shed’s door, stooped slightly as
though listening. “Okay. Stand back.”
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He didn’t answer but took several steps back to the far end of the shed,