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Midway Island
14 Feb
2006 Local Time
Fang expected to see his men waiting for them when they arrived in the Humvee. As he stepped out of the Humvee, he drew his handgun from its holster. The hair on the back of his neck was standing up.
“What is wrong?” Aziz asked as he stepped out behind him. Fang held his handgun down by his side as he looked off in the distance.
“Where are they?” Fang asked as Ming turned off the diesel engine.
“I will radio them,” Ming said as he picked up his handheld radio and made the radio call.
“Where are my men and the prisoners?” Fang barked. “They should be here.”
“They are not responding, sir,” Ming replied.
“Find them!” Fang yelled as he started walking toward the building. Ming jogged out in front of them with his rifle up as he searched for signs of the American and their men.
“Sir! Over here!” Ming yelled as he took off running toward the far edge of the building.
Fang could feel that something had gone wrong. It did not make sense that they had found another American pilot. He wondered if the Americans were attempting a rescue. They needed to get off the island.
When Fang walked to Ming’s location, he found Ming squatting over a body and checking for vital signs. There were six bodies lying within a few meters. They all had gunshot wounds. There was blood all over the asphalt.
“This one is still alive,” Ming said as he moved to a man that was barely moving. Fang recognized the man immediately. It was Sergeant Deng, one of his most experienced and battle tested soldiers. Whoever did this had been very skilled.
“What happened?” Fang asked as he stood over the dying man.
“Two... two prisoners... American pilot,” Deng said as he coughed up blood. “They... escaped.”
“Where did they go?” Fang asked.
Deng did his best to point in the directions the prisoners had escaped. Fang realized it was the direction of the warehouse where they were keeping the President. It had obviously been a ploy to draw them away.
“Radio the men guarding our prisoner and tell them to be on high alert,” Fang said.
As Ming stepped away to radio the orders, Fang raised his weapon toward his old sergeant. “Goodbye, old friend,” he said as he pulled the trigger in an act of mercy.
“Sir! They’re not responding!” Ming said.
“The Americans are here,” Fang said angrily. “Call everyone back.”
Most of his men had been at the transport aircraft, unloading Aziz’s men and loading their equipment for their upcoming departure. Their plans were to only leave a small guarding force behind until Aziz’s men could take over. Fang’s forces had been weakened beyond projections by the attacking American F/A-18 in the early stages of the operation, making it difficult to guard the hostages while loading the waiting aircraft.
As Fang walked back toward the Humvee, Aziz asked to speak to him. “My men are more than capable,” Aziz said. “Let us find the American rescue force. Inshallah, we will send the cowardly Americans to hell tonight.”
Fang looked at his watch. The nuclear device was set to go off in under two and a half hours. The timer had been set as soon as they had taken Air Force One. The plan was for the Americans to send a rescue force four hours after Fang’s final video broadcast. The device would detonate and Fang and his men would be long gone, ensuring an adequate buffer between their departure and the arrival of any rescue forces.
But if the Americans were already on the island, their cover might be blown and a world war between China and the Americans with their allies might be sparked. He had to get his men off the island. They had lost the public execution of the President, but the nuclear device would take care of it. Aziz’s men would hold them off long enough to be sure that it detonated, although they were unaware of its existence. They were expecting to martyr themselves in battle with the Americans, not a nuclear blast after Fang and his men escaped.
“My men and I are here to fight,” Aziz said, noting Fang’s pensive look. “Allah will guide us.”
Fang considered it for a moment. He wanted to stay and ensure the mission succeeded. He knew Aziz’s men were capable fighters, but they were not professionals like Fang’s men. Their chance of confronting an American rescue force and winning was much lower, but the need to escape outweighed all other factors. His superiors had been very clear – they were not to risk being identified by the Americans, even if it meant partial mission failure.
“Send all of your men to retake the warehouse,” Fang said. “Hold it until there is no one left to fight.”
“Is that where the President is?” Aziz asked.
“Yes,” Fang said. “And if she is not, scour the island until you find her. And then kill her.”
Aziz smiled. “Thank you for saving her for me,” he said. “This is a welcome surprise.”
“Of course. I saved the glory for you,” Fang lied. The plan was falling apart. The nuclear device was their last hope of salvaging the operation. He had very little faith in Aziz’s ability to find and kill the President before the bomb detonated.
“We will not let you down,” Aziz said.
“I am sure you won’t,” Fang said as he started walking toward Ming at the Humvee. When he reached his lieutenant, Ming was busily relaying orders on the radio. Fang pulled him aside and out of earshot from Aziz.
“Get all of Aziz’s men to the warehouse and then prepare for our departure,” Fang said. “I want to be airborne in thirty minutes.”
“Yes, sir,” Ming replied. “Do you think the Americans have taken the President?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Fang said. “The device will take care of that.”