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As Mitchell turned toward the bow, Keating appeared once more in the HUD. "All right, Mitchell. You don't have one chopper to deal with--you got two."
And Mitchell didn't need that new intel now. The second bird swept in behind the first, and now both soared back toward their boat, noses pitched forward, gu
If the Ghosts survived this, there was a great lesson to be learned: Never bring an old fishing boat to a helicopter battle.
He cursed then shouted, "Alpha Team, target left chopper. Bravo, take the right. Diaz, go for the pilots. And Smith? Hold fire and deploy my drone!"
Smith dove to the deck and sloughed off his pack. He withdrew the MAV4mp Cypher and tossed it hard like a Frisbee over the side, while the others began firing at the choppers.
Mitchell took control of the drone with his wireless controller and steered it directly toward the chopper on the right.
"Keep up that fire!" he ordered as both helicopters swooped down to strafe them.
Shifting the drone's camera to a forward view, Mitchell took the UAV into a dive, then came right up toward one of the gu
The gu
"Zai jian," Mitchell muttered.
He thumbed a button.
The drone exploded inside the chopper with a small flash and subsequent puff of smoke. Despite the relatively small charges, the self-destruct was still powerful enough to take out both gu
"Put your fire on him!" ordered Mitchell.
But he'd failed to realize that the second chopper had dropped like a hawk, talons extended to snatch a fish from the water. Streaking now off their port side, the chopper edged closer, the gu
Ramirez, one-handing his MK14, directed his bead at the smoking chopper, automatic fire chewing into glass and metal.
"Joey!" shouted Smith.
Mitchell craned his head as Ramirez took a round to his left side, near his waist, a round that punched him back, over the gunwale, and into the waves.
"We lost Ramirez!" cried Beasley, his words nearly drowned out by the chopper off their port side, the gu
SAND SPIT
XIAMEN HARBOR, CHINA
APRIL 2012
SEAL Chief Ta
The six sailors from the Chinese patrol boat who had launched in the Zodiac must have either spotted them or decided that the infiltrators had used the spit for their exfiltration, because all six of them, armed with pistols and rifles, had come ashore and were combing the forest.
Ta
And damn, Ta
Of course, given the radio transmissions Ta
At that point, the best Ta
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 Ta
Ta
Ta
Phillips nodded slowly and raised his pistol.
Taking in a long breath and holding it, Ta
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 spi
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 gu
"Jenkins, come on!" cried Mitchell.
Chapter 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 Ta
Ta
They darted to the edge of a slight clearing and crouched in the brush.
Just ahead, one sailor shouted to another, giving up his position--his last mistake.
With their predator's instincts finely tuned on the forest ahead, Ta
FISHING BOAT
XIAMEN HARBOR, CHINA
APRIL 2012
Diaz sat cross-legged on the deck and propped one elbow on the gunwale, sighting the oncoming chopper pilot. He roared down at a forty-five-degree angle, lining up on their stern and interrogating them with his searchlight.
Mitchell hollered as the rotor wash finally hit the boat, whipping up a mist that, in the next few seconds, would ruin Diaz's shot.
The chopper's gu