Typhoon Fury (Oregon Files 12)

“That’s the idea. Two squads of Special Action Force officers are waiting for your arrival.”

“And you think my men won’t follow us all the way there?”

Navarro chuckled drily. “It would be suicidal on their part, but I’d be happy for them to try.”

“You’re right,” Locsin said. “They should probably just shoot you now.”

“Shoot me?” Navarro said in d

isbelief at Locsin’s audacity. Even though the storm had passed, the boats were still heaving up and down on the lingering swells. “Without hitting you, too? Nobody is that good.”

“Right again, Inspector. Nobody is that good.”

Then, to Navarro’s complete shock, Locsin yelled at the top of his lungs.

“Fire!”

As one, his men blasted away, cutting down the three officers in a storm of bullets. At the same time, multiple shots tore into Locsin. He fell to the deck, stripping away Navarro’s protection. Navarro tried to dive for cover, but two bullets slammed into his midsection.

Navarro could do nothing but lie there as the escort boat charged forward and bumped against the hull of the transport. As Locsin’s men leapt out, Navarro knew Garcia was already dead and that he would soon join him. His mind began to fog as he felt the life seeping out of his body.

Locsin’s soldiers, like their leader, were muscled beyond even the fittest officers on the Special Action Force. Two of them lifted the slain communist leader up as easily as if he were a doll.

Navarro got some small measure of satisfaction at seeing the dead man in his soldiers’ arms. Despite the colossal failure of the mission to bring Locsin to justice, at least he had prevented the rescue of his government’s greatest public enemy.

Despite the grievous wounds, Navarro felt no pain, an indication of how far gone he was. He watched as the soldiers dragged Locsin’s corpse toward the escort boats, then suddenly stopped.

Navarro thought his eyes were playing tricks on him when he saw Locsin’s feet deliberately plant themselves on the deck. It was as if he were seeing a zombie reanimate after death.

The soldier to either side stepped away. Locsin stood for a moment before turning slowly to face Navarro.

Navarro couldn’t believe it. Locsin had ragged wound holes in his thigh, stomach, and shoulder. He shouldn’t be alive, let alone standing.

Inhumanly, Locsin seemed to ignore the pain. He leaned down until he was eye to eye with Navarro, that sour garlic smell radiating off of him in waves.

“Nice try, Inspector Navarro,” Locsin said with wicked glee. “But, you see, I have things to do. Big plans.”

He stood up again and waved for his men to help him. They each put one of Locsin’s arms over a shoulder.

“Scuttle the boat,” Locsin ordered in a strong voice. “Let them wonder whether I’m dead.”

“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.

“Oh,” Locsin said, nodding toward Navarro, “and finish him off.”

Without hesitation, one of the men raised a pistol and aimed between Navarro’s eyes. The last thing he saw was its barrel spitting fire.

6

VIETNAM

Eddie steadied himself on the concrete lip at the top of the train tunnel opening. He had ditched the suit jacket and wore a harness around his legs and waist. The rope lashed to his harness was connected to a nylon line. One end of the weighted line dangled below them, just above the tunnel, while the other end was threaded through a winch anchored farther up the forested slope. Zhong Lin and the six other operatives with him made last checks of their harnesses and QBZ-95 assault rifles as the sound of the approaching engine echoed through the tunnel.

Zhong kept his eye on Eddie for any sign of betrayal or that he would chicken out of the assault. He made it clear that Eddie would be among the first four to drop onto the train, and if he didn’t do it, Zhong would shoot him on the spot.

Eddie had no intention of backing out, despite the challenge of getting onto the roof of a train moving at thirty miles an hour. He’d rappelled down cliffs and jumped out of helicopters many times, but this operation was something new. Although he could feel the surge of adrenaline that marked the beginning of any operation, he had no fear. Of course, he didn’t want Zhong to know that, so he maintained a mask of abject terror.

“Remember,” Zhong said to his men, “we drop the lines just as the engine passes beneath us, not before.”