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Chapters (39)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Acknowledgements
  4. Epigraph
  5. ONE
  6. TWO
  7. THREE
  8. FOUR
  9. FIVE
  10. SIX
  11. SEVEN
  12. EIGHT
  13. NINE
  14. TEN
  15. ELEVEN
  16. TWELVE
  17. THIRTEEN
  18. FOURTEEN
  19. FIFTEEN
  20. SIXTEEN
  21. SEVENTEEN
  22. EIGHTEEN
  23. NINETEEN
  24. TWENTY
  25. TWENTY-ONE
  26. TWENTY-TWO
  27. TWENTY-THREE
  28. TWENTY-FOUR
  29. TWENTY-FIVE
  30. TWENTY-SIX
  31. TWENTY-SEVEN
  32. TWENTY-EIGHT
  33. TWENTY-NINE
  34. THIRTY
  35. THIRTY-ONE
  36. THIRTY-TWO
  37. THIRTY-THREE
  38. THIRTY-FOUR
  39. THIRTY-FIVE

Of course, given the radio transmissions Tanner had been monitoring, there was a good chance that Mitchell and his Ghosts would not make it, stranding the two SEALs.

At that point, the best Tanner could hope for was to kill the Chinese sailors, don their gear, and swim out till they ran out of oxygen.

Higher's insistence that nothing be left behind to indicate this was an American operation worked in their favor. However, Captain Gummerson would still ultimately decide whether a security breach was worth risking his crew and his multimillion-dollar submarine.

Phillips lifted his chin, then gave Tanner a hand signal: movement ahead.

Tanner tensed as two Chinese sailors eased forward, not a meter apart, just three trees away.

Tanner gave Phillips another hand signal.

Phillips nodded slowly and raised his pistol.

Taking in a long breath and holding it, Tanner rolled away from his tree, aimed at the sailor on the left, and fired.

FISHING BOAT
XIAMEN HARBOR, CHINA
APRIL 2012

"Jenkins, turn around!" screamed Mitchell. "We're going back for Ramirez."

Even as Jenkins rolled the wheel, throwing all of them to the rail, Beasley and Smith shifted their fire to the smoking chopper, whose pilot was still trying to regain control.

Suddenly, a new trail of smoke unfurled from the chopper's tail rotor, and a fire appeared there as Beasley and Smith whooped and reloaded.

"Get him!" cried Mitchell as they came back toward Ramirez.

Jenkins released the wheel, turning it over to Mitchell, then dove into the water as Mitchell killed the throttle.

Meanwhile, the now-burning chopper began spinning and wobbling away from the boat, and Hume cursed that he didn't have a rocket to finish her off. But it didn't matter. The chopper rolled hard onto its side, the main rotor now perpendicular to the water as Mitchell brought the fishing boat around once more, trying to slow up near Jenkins and Ramirez.

The chopper's rotors began slicing into the water, and it suddenly turned once more as it made impact, the rotors snapping like twigs, the cabin slapping hard, waves of white water cascading up around the craft.

"Got that one, sir!" shouted Smith.

At the same time, the remaining chopper and its single gunner came back around for another pass, and that pilot had all the time in the world to get his gunner on target. Now their searchlight swept up, across Mitchell's wake, and found the two men in the water.

"Jenkins, come on!" cried Mitchell.

THIRTY-FOUR

THIRTY-FOUR

SAND SPIT PIER
XIAMEN HARBOR, CHINA
APRIL 2012

The moment the second sailor collapsed with a bullet lodged in his head, SEAL Chief Tanner and his partner wove back through the woods, heading west to circle around and come in from behind the remaining men.

Tanner and Phillips now held their pistols in one hand, their SOG SEAL knives in the other, the seven-inch blades powder-coated to conceal glare.

They darted to the edge of a slight clearing and crouched in the brush.