The Chinese Agenda (24 page)

A few moments later, he broke out of the trees to find the ridge covered with scrub bushes and several feet of snow. He took off his snowshoes and thrust them into the snow beside a tree, then with his binoculars, he crawled forward until he could peer over the broken and jumbled rock of the crest and down into the valley. The view was breathtaking, even in the flat light of .the overcast morning. The ridge fell away steeply to the river nearly a thousand feet below, where a barely discernible fringe of snow-covered aspens marched along both banks, outlining the white thread of the frozen river itself. The whole snowscape before him was painted in shades of gray and white as if done by a master Japanese artist. Peering down on the frozen river, it was inconceivable that they had accomplished the climb in the darkness and the howling blizzard. Spruce and cedar reached skyward, yet the tops were still several hundred feet beneath him.

Gillon searched the valley with the glasses until the cold finally drove him hack from the edge. He had seen no trace of movement. In spite of the fact that the sound should have been audible for miles at this altitude, he had not heard a single aircraft engine. The absence of aircraft could very well mean that the Reds were searching farther to the northwest for them, concentrating on the canyons and plateaux around the rendezvous sites and west toward the Khalik Tau. If so, then they had managed to travel far enough south . . . at least fifteen miles, he estimated . . . during the afternoon and night to break completely out of the closing ring.

Gillon fastened on the snowshoes and started back to rouse the others. He wanted to circle back to the north, where the map showed a level area large enough for the pickup aircraft to land. Every mile farther from the search area and toward the border increased their chances of survival, chances . that yesterday afternoon had been nonexistent. By tonight, they would be out of the Tien Shan and hack at Ala Kul . . . providing they managed to elude the Chinese search parties for the rest of the day. He hurried back through the trees, following his own trail.

Less than two hundred yards front the camp he came

across a set of snowshoe tracks crossing his own at right angles. As an iron hand of fear clamped down on his chest, he knelt_ slowly to examine the tracks. They showed plainly that the other traveler had milled around a moment while he examined Gillon's trace, then had gone off to the east. Thirty yards away, the tracks joined a second and third pair.

The snowshoes were the oval bear-paw type and none of them were wearing bear-paws; all had the long, narrow trail shoes. Gillon got up slowly, his heart pounding hard in his chest. As he glanced toward the trees, a single white-clad figure materialized, cradling a carbine in his arms. The two men stared at each other in surprise and before Gillon could move, more figures stepped out of the trees into view, all with weapons leveled. Behind, he heard the soft crunch of snow and he realized he had been neatly encircled. Gillon was painfully aware that except for the pistol, zipped into the inside pocket of his parka, he was unarmed. The carbine was still in his tent and his throwing knife was of absolutely no value. The troopers closed in remorselessly, faces hidden by the hoods of their snowsuits.

'I guess some people will just never learn not to walk into traps.'

Gillon heard the voice and for a long moment the meaning of the words did not register. Jack Liu stopped in front of him and pushed back his hood to reveal a wide grin.

'Christ, buddy, how many times do I have to pull you out of trouble before you learn?'

Gillon gave a shout of laughter and they rushed at each other, chortling like two fools.

`How in the hell did you find us?' Gillon managed to gasp out after a moment. 'I would have bet that no one could have followed us through that damned blizzard?'

Liu grinned, waved at the others and started walking -toward the camp. Still shaken by surprise, Gillon fell into step beside him, unable to believe that Liu was still alive and that he had managed to locate them after all.

Ì've got to admit, no one else could have. I just

figured that if I were you and I managed to get myself out of that ambush, that I'd just keep on going up and over that canyon wall and down the other side as fast and as far as I could go. So then it was only a 'matter of figuring out just how far west you would go before you realized that there was no percentage in heading into the Khalik Tau. When the snow really hit, I figured, not knowing the country, that you all would hole up until the snow quit. So to get ahead of you, we camped at the river and this morning climbed the ridge, where we could watch for you. If we hadn't spotted the tracks you made a while ago, we'd still be waiting for you to cross the river. I thought you might get that far, but it never seemed possible that you could climb the ridge in the dark.'

'What the hell,' Gillon chuckled. 'We iron men are capable of magnificent and outstanding feats.'

Liu laughed and translated for the rest of his men, following behind, and they laughed in appreciation. A moment later, the group broke into the clearing. Stowe had just crawled from his tent and was peering about him at the forest as Gillon had done an hour earlier. The expression on his face as the Chinese troopers came out of the trees was one that Gillon would not have missed for anything.

'Hold it, Chuck,' he shouted. Stowe had started to duck into the tent for his carbine. He stuck his head back out and Gillon waved. Reluctantly, he crawled from the tent and stood up.

`These are the people we've come to see,' Gillon yelled, waving a hand to take in the troopers clustering around the tents.

Within a-few minutes, the Chinese strike team's rations – almost as meager as theirs –

had been pooled and were cooking over the small fires. While they ate, Gillon and Liu laughed and joked, slapping each other on the arms like two schoolboys, in their relief at finding each other alive.

`When we didn't see you at the main rendezvous and were ambushed at the alternate site, we figured that you had bought it,' Gillon summed up. 'We decided that the best thing left for us to do was get out as fast as we could.'

Liu slapped Gillon's leg fondly. 'It's a damned good thing that you did. Otherwise, we would have tramped way out here for nothing.'

'Moscow claims to have lost contact with you,' Stowe broke in. 'Is that true or are they feeding us a line . ?'

Dmietriev glanced warily at Stowe, shook his head and returned his concentration to the ration pack. Liu studied him a moment before he answered.

'Yes, it is true that they did lose contact with us. The Reds were waiting for us at the main rendezvous . .

He stopped at the look of surprise on Gillon's face. 'They were waiting for you . . . how the hell could they be ... ?'

Then it dawned on Gillon. The group of soldiers that had killed Jones had not been searching for them, they must have been on the way to the rendezvous to set up the ambush and stumbled across the two of them as they talked in the forest.

`They were waiting for us as we came down into the valley,' Liu answered. Tut we must have arrived before they were set. We spotted them moving into position soon enough to pull back but a squad sent around to cut off our retreat caught us in the open. I lost my radio operator and the radio.'

'I'll be damned,' Gillon breathed. `So that's why . . He got up and motioned Liu away from the fire, ignoring the suspicious stares that Stowe, Leycock and Dmietriev gave him. Liu got to his feet and followed, a quizzical look on his face.

'Look, the night before that, Jones and I had gone out into the forest so that he could brief me in detail without the others overhearing. The Chicoms spotted us and shot Jones but missed me. I assumed they were the bunch trailing us . . . but maybe they weren't after all. We set off an avalanche down Musart Pass that we figured wiped out any pursuit for at least two or three days ...'

'Jones was ... ?' Liu asked.

'The jerk in charge of this collection of idiots,' Stowe

answered, walking over to join them. 'He managed to get killed early on ... saved himself a lot of trouble.'

Gillon turned slowly, barely able to control his rage. `You bastard,' he whispered. 'I've had about all I'm going to take from you. Open your mouth one more time and I'll shut it for you for good.'

Stowe stepped back, shifting his weight onto his rear leg in a defensive stance, and smiled thinly at Gillon. Gillon was half hoping that he would take up the challenge, while at the same time fully aware that this was neither the time nor place to fight. But Stowe relaxed and grinned at him. 'Whatever you say, boss, whatever you say.' And walked away.

As Gillon turned, Liu stepped back; his right hand was resting casually on his holstered pistol. He made as if to say something then thought better of it.

'A real winner,' was Liu's only comment, and Gillon nodded, still angry but now with himself, rather than Stowe. 'We had better break out the radio and report in. I want to get a plane in by tonight to take us all out.'

As they started toward the tents, Gillon yelled for Leycock to follow and he trotted up, grinning from ear to ear.

'Hot damn, maybe we can get out of this overgrown icebox and get a decent night's sleep tonight.'

His enthusiasm was infectious and Gillon's anger at Stowe's obstreperousness was vanishing. He grinned at Leycock and slapped him on the shoulder. In the last few days, he realized, he had come to depend more and more on Leycock. He was willing where Stowe was sullen, decisive where Dmietriev was hesitant. He had noticed that in their marches, Leycock always brought up the rear and his constant joking and encouragement kept the other two from straggling.

Leycock crawled inside the tent for the radio. A moment later he backed slowly out, turning to look up at Gillon with a stricken face. Gillon stared at him in puzzlement until he realized that Leycock was holding out the canvas-covered radio pack. The front flap was folded back and the faceplate of the transceiver was

cracked and the metal top dented badly. When Leycock threw the power switch, there was no answering hum.

* * *

The closely spaced contour lines on the map began to build a mental picture of the terrain as Liu 's finger traced out their route. The more Gillon thought about it, the less he liked it. It took them too close to the Khailik Mebuse Col and he was certain that the Chinese Reds would have stationed a sizable body of troops there to prevent an escape attempt at that point; a point only eight miles short of the border. It was far too dangerous; not only would troops be patrolling that area but aircraft would be concentrated heavily in the vicinity, especially as it became clearer that they had escaped the tightening net above the Chiran-toka.

`But that is just it, Bob.' Jack Liu tapped the map with a finger to emphasize his point. 'It is the most unexpected thing that we can do. First of all, we will be at least three miles south of the col in heavy forest .. . the only open ground is along the south branch of the Musart River. Secondly, the slopes of the Tengri Khan are the most obvious place to cross . .. therefore they will never figure that you would try, even though they will guard the pass carefully in case you do.'

Try that again,' Leycock muttered. 'I'm not sure that it made sense.'

`Look,' Liu said patiently. 'This is like a chess match . . . the object is to figure out what your opponent is thinking and use that to beat him. Look at it this way. I he Khailik Mebuse Pass above the Tagrak-Yailak Glacier is the shortest way to the border. But it's all open country and they would find you easily. So some smart general will reason this way: The Americans are too smart to make such an obvious move. But, because it is so obvious, we will not waste many troops in guarding it closely . . . so it becomes the best opportunity for the Americans and therefore we will put a very strong guard on the passes to catch them when they do come.'

Òf course . . Leycock broke in, but before he could go on, Liu motioned for him to wait.

`The next question to ask is where will those soldiers

be? . . . in the col, of course,' he answered his own question. 'They will watch the col above and not the forest below. Therefore, the way to the glacier will be wide open and you should be able to cross the glacier at night or under a heavy cloud cover that would keep aircraft away. The border is only a few miles away there.'

Gillon said nothing, waiting for him to continue, and Leycock nodded to indicate that his question had been answered.

'Okay,' Liu said. 'If we are agreed to go south of the col, then by nightfall, I can turn you over to a caravan and start you on your way.'

'Caravan,' Gillon yelped. 'A caravan of what ... ?'

'A caravan of Kalmuck traders.' Liu grinned in delight at the reaction he had evoked.

'Listen,' Gillon broke in, 'we ran across a caravan the first night. They were heading for an abandoned monastery below Musart Pass, where we had holed up for some sleep.'

Liu nodded. 'I know the place. It used to be a stop on the caravan trails. It was abandoned for some reason before the turn of the century. No one seems to know why.'

'Do you suppose it's the same caravan?'

Liu nodded. 'I don't doubt it. It's the only caravan that moves this early in the season.'

Gillon shook his head. 'I'll be damned. It seems like this would be one of the most deserted areas in the world. But every time we turn around, we fall over somebody else. We couldn't figure out why a caravan would be traveling at night and so we beat it in case their intentions were not peaceable.'

'This particular caravan always travels at night until they get well into the range. They have a long way to go and the competition is stiff. In fact, not even the government knows that they are on the move. They go south every spring to the Atabashi range in northern Afghanistan for the summer rendezvous. The Communists on both sides of the border have pretty well discouraged the caravans and ruined the caravan routes. They don't like the idea that so many people can come and go across a border without being controlled.'