Kurtzman keyed up a series of images, showing the facility. It was set in rough terrain, with low mountains far to the north. The shots were mostly taken via long-range lens.
“The place is called Guang Lor,” Kurtzman offered. He brought up a map. “Northwest China, province of Xinjiang. It’s close to the border with Afghanistan. Well isolated, away from any populated areas so Beijing can keep it under wraps as much as possible. Intel says this is where they’re developing their new generation of long-and short-range ballistic missiles. There’s a small settlement grown up in the vicinity for workers at the facility.”
“Anna’s Pro-Democracy group has been working the area and picking up what they can,” Price went on. “They have to be careful because the area is pretty well controlled by the Chinese. Current intel says the missile testing has been increased lately. The group has a man inside the facility now, and he’s been feeding them what he can. Pretty thin, but at least it indicates just what the Chinese are up to.”
“Take a look at this,” Kurtzman’s said. “The Pro-Democracy group took these shots a couple of weeks back in Hong Kong.”
He brought up a series of shots that showed a group of men talking together.
“This was shot in Hong Kong. The Chinese is Sammo Chen Low. No surprise that he comes from the facility at Guang Lor. He’s a negotiator and a financial specialist. The Caucasian here is Joseph Riotta, and CIA intel has him linked to Townsend’s Shadow organization. Same with this guy. Ralph Chomski. Ex-Air Force. I managed to filch that information from military data banks. Make of it what you will, folks.”
McCarter leaned forward and poked a finger at the image of another man in the group, sitting a little back, but listening intently to what was being discussed.
“Well, well,” the Briton muttered. “Our old chum from Santa Lorca. Jack bloody Regan.”
James studied the face of the man in the crumpled suit and old Panama hat.
“You are not wrong, bubba,” he said, using the man’s favorite expression.
“Still in the business,” McCarter said. “Regan has good contacts for moving ordnance. Looks like he sub-contracted to Shadow.”
“That going to be a problem for T.J.?” Brognola asked.
“No. He never met Regan on that mission. T.J. was backup on a warehouse roof. They never even saw each other.”
They spent a few more minutes tossing facts back and forth until one of the phones rang. Price picked it up and took the message.
“Phoenix, your ride is ready to take you to Andrews.”
McCarter stuck the file under his arm and stood, the rest of his team following suit.
“We’re gone,” the Briton said. “Hey, hotshots, you look after my mate. He’s a pain in the arse, but he’s my pain. We’d like him back in good working order.”
Lyons nodded. “He’ll be fine. You know our rep.”
“That’s what worries me,” McCarter said, grinning.
“Take care, guys,” Price said.
“Easier said than done,” Manning replied.
“You sure you old boys can manage without me?” Hawkins asked.
“You really sure you want an answer to that?” James asked, a wide grin on his face.
CHAPTER TWO
The aircraft waiting to ferry them to Bagram was sitting on the end of a runway, engines already warmed up. The vast cargo space of the C-17 housed the Stony Man combat helicopter, Dragon Slayer. Jack Grimaldi was inside carrying out detailed preflight checks that would go through everything from the twin-turbine power plant, electronics and computer aids. He would also run thorough checks on the chopper’s impressive ordnance capabilities. Dragon Slayer carried an awesome catalog of weapons, multibarrel chain gun, missiles and pilot-activated aim and fire through a slaved helmet array. Within the electronic heart of the machine were sensors and range-locating instruments. The satellite-linked communication setup enabled Grimaldi to call Stony Man at the flick of a button and also connect in to air-traffic feeds so he could maintain instant locations. Where they were going on this particular mission his sources would be the U.S. Military Communications Net.
The men of Phoenix Force, carrying their gear, crossed in driving rain and climbed on board. Grimaldi raised a hand in welcome as he watched the team arrive, then returned to his checking procedures. As they stowed their gear, McCarter spotted a familiar figure sitting patiently on one of the benches the far end of the aircraft.
It was Mei Anna. She wore a camou-pattern combat suit and boots, the same as Phoenix Force, her jet-black hair pulled back from her face. A backpack lay on the floor at her feet, along with her P-90 assault rifle. She carried a 9 mm Beretta pistol in a shoulder rig. She offered McCarter a brief, silent acknowledgment when he met her gaze. He nodded in recognition, then turned and made his way to the flight deck and immersed himself in the technicalities of the pre-takeoff discussion with the flight crew.
While he did that, James, Manning and Rafael Encizo secured their equipment, then joined the Chinese operatives.
“Where’s T. J.?” she asked.
“Working undercover on another piece of the mission,” Manning said. “We thought it was time he had a grown-up job.”
“It’s good to see you,” Anna said, standing and greeting them all with a quick hug.
They responded warmly. There wasn’t one man among Phoenix Force who didn’t hold Mei Anna in great esteem. Since their first encounter during a previous mission to China, she had proved herself to be a formidable young woman. Her dedication to her Pro-Democracy group was intense, and her fight against the repressions of the Chinese government and the often brutal suppression of civil and personal rights was something she believed in with a passion. Her fight had taken her all over China, and she was a wanted woman by Beijing. She accepted it without making a point over the matter. Her courage was something Phoenix Force was fully aware of. Her being back in action didn’t surprise them. It had been something they had all accepted as inevitable now that she had recovered from the aftermath of a wound that had taken its toll and forced her into a long recovery period.
“We had no idea you were involved in this until a short while ago,” Manning said.
“Things happened fast” Anna told him. “We’ve been monitoring the activity at Guang Lor for some time. This particular incident has given us something definite we can focus on, and it seems to have happened just as you became involved.”
They felt the aircraft vibrate as power was applied to the powerful engines. After a few seconds they felt the plane start to move, the whine of the engines increasing.
“Is David okay?”
James grinned. “He’s being David,” was all he said.
Anna touched his arm. “You don’t have to say any more.”
They braced themselves as the aircraft gained speed, the sound of the engines filling the
