Jenkins had found the fishing boat's engine key in Buddha's pocket, and once down at the boat, he and Smith had climbed aboard, and Jenkins had inserted the key. He didn't start the engine. Not yet. Beasley had ordered them to lay low until he signaled.

"This thing's a piece of crap," said Jenkins. "We'll sink before we're saved."

"And this water is a freaking biohazard."

"You're not kidding. And hey, what if she doesn't start?"

"Dude, don't jinx us."

A flash of light on his peripheral vision stole Jenkins's attention. "Maybe I already have."

"Bro, there's a four-by-four up there," said Smith. "You see him? That ain't the captain! That looks military!"

"Matt, this is Bo," called Jenkins. "What's going on up there?"

Chances were high that the four-by-four belonged to the army and that the Spring Tigers had ordered patrols out during the predawn hours as part of their larger plans. Ramirez held his breath as the truck pulled up behind them and stopped.

The side-view mirror reflected a green truck not unlike the Brave Warrior but with a canvas top and large windows. Two armed soldiers got out and came toward them, pistols drawn.

Ramirez looked at Beasley, whose gaze was trained on his side-view mirror.

"Here we go, bro," Beasley whispered.

Suddenly, more lights wiped across the overpass, and the two soldiers whirled to face yet another military truck turning off the road and coming down toward them.

The second truck rolled to a stop behind the first, and the soldiers turned to face it.

"Joey, now!" stage-whispered Beasley.

In unison they bolted up, hung out their windows, and shot both men, who dropped, even as a third soldier was emerging from the second truck.

Before he could get back inside to take cover, and before either Ramirez or Beasley could fire, the soldier's chest blew outward, and he slumped below his open door.

Ramirez detected movement in the passenger's seat. Yet another troop.

As he shifted his aim, a thump came from the canvas window in back, and blood clouded the windshield.

"Bravo Team, this is Diaz. You're clear now. We're coming down."

"Roger that," said Beasley.

Ramirez turned back into the SUV and slumped in his seat, taking long, slow breaths. "She could've told us they stopped," he snapped.

Beasley frowned. "She does that." He opened his door and started out of the SUV.

"So much for the quiet exit," said Ramirez, joining Beasley outside. They grimaced over the dead soldiers, the fourth lying in a pulp inside the other car.

The sight of death hardly bothered them. The ramifications of those deaths did. "They've lost contact with their unit."

"Yep. We have their attention," said Beasley with a groan. "Give me a hand with these bodies."

Ramirez snorted and gestured with his sling. "One is all you're getting."

SAND SPIT PIER
XIAMEN HARBOR, CHINA
APRIL 2012