Rising Tiger (21 page)

“Wow,” Alexandra said. “You were tough on him.”

“He’ll get over it. You ready to go?”

She nodded. “Should we check out?”

“Yeah. We’ll grab our bags and get the hell out of here. If we need to stay in Saigon, we can check in to another place.”

Within the hour the two of them had packed their small bags, checked out of the hotel, and were standing out front waiting for a taxi.

The street out front was busy with traffic, the majority of which seemed to Jake to consist of motor scooters. Jake guessed they were the preferred mode of transportation in Saigon. He even saw one Vespa drive by with a stack of new LCD TVs in their original boxes. Another carried a family of four.

When a car with dark windows slowed down out on the street, Jake immediately knew something wasn’t right. He simultaneously dropped his bag and pulled Alexandra to the ground behind a cement barrier just as the first bullets flew from the back window of the car.

Jake rolled to his right and drew his Glock. Then he shot three times at the back car, his bullets striking the trunk of the car as it sped off.

Others who had been standing out front, including a door man and two bell hops, had screamed and scrambled for cover.

“You all right?” Jake asked, checking over Alexandra for any wounds.

“Yeah. Let’s get those bastards.” Her gun was also pulled and ready to fire.

By now the light a half a block away had turned, stacking up cars and motor scooters out front. It was as if the drivers had no idea what had just happened, which was probably the case.

They both left their bags on the sidewalk and ran out to the street. Now the scooter drivers looked concerned when they saw the guns.

Jake holstered his gun and found the newest Vespa. Then he helped the driver off the scooter with his left hand while he hoisted himself into the driver’s seat. The man yelled at him in Vietnamese, but he shut his mouth when Alexandra pointed her gun in his general direction while getting on the scooter behind Jake.

Once she wrapped her left arm around Jake’s waist, he cranked the throttle and weaved through the mass of other scooters until he reached the opposite lane, which was filled with other vehicles zipping by them.

Without hesitation, he cranked the throttle and entered the mass of scooters. Just as he accomplished that maneuver, a second car screeched to a halt and gunfire erupted from the back window.

Alexandra returned fire, smashing lead into the back door.

Now Jake hit the throttle hard, weaving through the heavy traffic and having to use his feet to kick a few other scooters out of his way.

Just like the traffic in Cambodia, size mattered on these roads in Saigon. The car with the second shooters turned directly into the oncoming scooters, which parted for the larger vehicle.

By now Jake had made his way to the front of the scooter pack, anticipating the lights ahead. He cruised through the lights and headed down the busy highway, with the opposite lane of traffic filled with vehicles, mostly various motorcycles and scooters.

More bullets started flying at them just as they moved into a massive roundabout. As they cruised around to the right, Alexandra started shooting at the car.

“The first car has caught up with us,” she yelled at Jake.

“Keep firing.”

Jake considered getting out of the roundabout, but instead he used the flow of traffic around the structure like Indians surrounding a circled wagon train.

Tires squealed from the cars behind them cutting tight turns. Now Jake had gone from the pursued to the chaser, his Vespa finally catching up to the second car of shooters.

Alexandra aimed around Jake and shot at the back of the car, smashing the rear window into shards. She continued firing until she ran out of bullets in that magazine. Then she dropped the spent magazine and expertly shoved a second one into the handle before releasing the slide lock.

When the car ahead hit its brakes, squealing to a halt, Jake hit the throttle hard cruising past the car on the right.

Alexandra took the opportunity to nearly empty her new magazine as they passed within a few feet of the car, her bullets smashing in the right side windows and then the windshield as they rushed past the car.

But then the second car, the lead car, hit its brakes and cranked sideways. Jake had just seconds to respond, as he pulled back on the right handlebar and nearly smashed into the front of the car.

Continuing to fire at the new target, Alexandra finally ran out of bullets in her second magazine. She found her last magazine and replaced the empty one with the full one just as Jake pulled off a maneuver through the flow of scooters and cut out to a side street.

“They didn’t make the turn,” Alexandra yelled.

“They’ll make it the second time around,” he said.

But Jake turned right down the next road and then left along the edge of a small park. As he picked up speed now, Jake’s phone buzzed in his pants. He ignored it and continued making turns to distance himself from the two cars.

Soon they entered a residential area and the Vespa’s engine started to sputter. Then the engine cut out completely and Jake put the scooter in neutral, gliding to a halt down a narrow street with scooters parked on both sides. He simply angled the Vespa alongside the other vehicles and braked to a halt.

Jake let Alexandra get off and he laughed when he saw the state of her hair. It frizzed out like she had just stuck her wet finger in an electrical socket.

“What?” she asked.

Swinging his leg over the seat, Jake just said, “Nothing. Nice shooting.”

She ran her fingers to her hair and then tried her best to comb the frizzy locks back into control. “Great. Look what you did. You couldn’t steal a car?”

“I improvised.” Jake walked down the sidewalk and then remembered his phone. He checked to see who had called and saw that it was the IRS. Kurt Jenkins had quite the sense of humor. Jake called the man back and waited as Alexandra caught up with him. She was bitching quietly to herself, still trying to control her locks.

“Yeah,” Jenkins said.

“You called me,” Jake reminded him.

“Right. I looked into that Taiwanese woman code named Lin. Turns out she’s highly respected. Graduated top of her class in the military academy. She’s still considered a reserve Army captain. I couldn’t find out anything about her current assignment, though.”

“Makes sense,” Jake said. “I’m surprised you got that much from them.”

“Hey, don’t hang up on me again.”

“Sorry about that. It was Alexandra’s fault.”

She hit him in the arm.

“We just got into a gunfight,” Jake said, and then he briefed Jenkins with the quick version.

“All right,” Jenkins said. “Disregard my previous call. The general is obviously trying to cut you off.”

“Right. So, the general tries to get me to stand down and then he has his men go postal on our asses. What’s wrong with that picture?”

“That’s kind of why I called,” Jenkins reasoned. “The man deserves additional scrutiny. If that officer from Taiwan wants to work with you, I would take her up on it.”

“It’s a way to bypass our own Agency,” Jake told him.

“I agree.” Then he paused on his end. “I thought you would concur. She’ll wait for you at the private section of the Saigon airport. She plans on leaving at thirteen hundred your time.”

“Leave for where?”

“Taipei.”

“What about the general?”

“According to her sources, the general is already in the air.”

That made some sense. The general sends his men after Jake and Alexandra and then takes off. Just what the man did in Cambodia.

“Can I hang up now?” Jake asked.

“You asshole.”

Jake hung up on the man again.

Alexandra shook her head. “Looks like we’re going to Taiwan.”

“Guess so. Let’s catch a cab.”

●

Shangwei sat in the back seat of the sedan as his driver and another man occupied the front. Next to him was another man who had been shot in the gut while they chased Adams and that hot woman. He wasn’t even sure of the man’s name, but the guy was starting to piss off Shangwei with his moans and crying like a little baby. It was making it hard for him to hear his boss, the general, on the cell phone. Part of that, he knew, was the sound of the jet engine.

“I am sorry that I failed,” Shangwei said to his boss.

“Failure is only so if it is final,” General Wu Gang reasoned. “You will have another chance.”

The wounded man next to him moaned louder, making Shangwei hold his hand over his phone as he gave the man a severe look.

Putting the phone at his ear again, Shangwei said, “How should I proceed, sir?”

“Commercial flights have resumed to Taiwan,” the general said. “You and your men need to get on the next flight.”

The man who was shot started a steady, painful yelping, like a wounded rabbit. Shangwei covered his phone again. Then he reached across the man, opened the door, and shoved the man out to the highway. He looked back and saw the guy’s body bounce a number of times until the first car hit him and rose over the body like a speed bump.

“Is everything all right?” the general asked.

“Yes, sir. I just had to let someone go.”

“All right. Prepare your men in Taiwan for Jake Adams. He will not stop until you kill him.”

“Understood.”

The general hung up and Shangwei shoved his phone into his pocket. Then he looked at all the blood on the seat next to him and was glad this was a rental car. He also wondered with a smile if the bullet holes would be covered by insurance.

Over the South China Sea

Jake and Alexandra had met with the Taiwanese intelligence officer, Lin, at the Saigon International Airport private charter area. The two women had nearly come to blows again, and Jake wondered if they would ever trust each other after Lin and her people had shot at them, forcing them to jump into that Singapore river, and then the fight between ladies later. The more troubling encounters, though, included the shootings in Bangkok and Cambodia. But Jake had acted as the peace maker, separating them at the tarmac before they all got onto the Gulfstream jet. Sometimes it might be fun to watch a chick fight, but Jake knew that both women could be quite dangerous. So the outcome could have led to broken teeth and cracked ribs at a minimum. Nobody wanted that.

Now, cruising at 35,000 feet above the South China Sea, Jake was finally relaxed to the point of dozing off. He was nearly as sedate as he had been since his departure from the fishing excursion in Costa Rica.

He opened his eyes and noticed Alexandra sleeping across from him in her plush leather seat.

Lin, on the other hand, was wide awake. She had just come from the cockpit carrying a headset, which she plugged into the console of her own seat and then sat down. Her expression was one of concern. She pulled down the mic and spoke into it.

Jake pulled out his cell phone and remarkably had a couple of bars. They must have been traveling close to land. He looked out the window and saw only water. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

Now Lin swiveled her chair and looked out her window. Her expression seemed more concerned when she turned and continued to talk into the mic.

Getting up from his chair, Jake wandered over to Lin and sat across from her. He glanced out the window and saw what she had obviously observed. It was a Russian-made Su-27 Flanker B jet fighter. But the markings were that of the People’s Liberation Army Air Force from the People’s Republic of China. Which made the aircraft a Chinese-built Shenyang J-11. Same plane, different missiles.

“What’s going on?” Jake whispered to Lin.

She nodded her head toward the aircraft. “Chinese aircraft says we are flying in restricted airspace.”

Jake looked out the window again and still saw nothing but water. “Isn’t this international waters?”

“Yes. There are some small islands that are claimed by both China and the Philippines. But we are clearly not over those islands. This is bullshit.”

He almost laughed when she said that last word. Then he watched as she spoke Chinese into her mic. Next, she pulled out her cell phone and started typing in a long sequence of numbers. She waited for a moment, clicked off the mic, and talked into her phone as she looked out the window again.

The Flanker was doing just that, flanking them, sticking to them like an extra appendage. Looking closely, Jake could see that the aircraft had fully-armed air-to-air missiles on wing pylons. He also knew that the jet had a 30mm single barrel cannon with at least 150 rounds, any one of which could knock them out of the sky. Not a healthy prospect, considering the Gulfstream couldn’t outrun or outmaneuver a Mach two-plus fighter jet. They were sitting ducks.

Lin looked extremely disturbed with whomever she was talking with on the cell phone. She got off the phone and simply shook her head.

“What’s up?” Jake asked her.

“My people can’t help,” she said with no resolve.

“Why not?”

She hesitated, perhaps trying her best to translate from Chinese to English. “They can’t inflame the situation.”

Jake pulled out his phone and called Kurt Jenkins, who could barely hear him through a bad connection. Despite the communications problem, Jake was able to explain his situation. He knew that there had to be something the American government could do, if they wanted to, but that would take time. And he didn’t think they had time. Jenkins said he would do what he could, but he wasn’t making any promises. Now Jake must have looked as frustrated as Lin.

The Taiwanese officer clicked on her mic again and spoke quickly into it.

Jake looked out the window and saw that the Chinese aircraft was gone. “Did it take off?” he asked Lin.

She shook her head vehemently. “No. It’s behind us.”

He thought quickly about his days in Air Force intelligence. What did he know about this aircraft or air operations? Most of his information was old.

“Go into a full dive,” Jake finally said. Then he strapped himself in with the seatbelt and looked over to make sure Alexandra was also belted. She was.