Page 71 of Clive Cussler's Quantum Tempest
El Salvador
Colonel Shi Chang and his squad of MSS operatives set up shop in a luxury boutique hotel near the Acajutla Port posing as wealthy Chinese investors.
Chang and his team had followed Murph and Linlin all the way from Thailand. By pretending to try and kill her at the beach bar, they had convinced the gullible young American that she was on their hit list. This not only added to her credibility as a traitor to China but also invited her deeper into his circle of trust. So far, the plan had worked brilliantly.
Chang and his men were dressed in designer linen shirts, tailored trousers, and sunglasses. His three female operatives were similarly styled and carried themselves with the same athletic poise as their male counterparts.
The Chinese swept into the lobby past cascading bougainvillea, their true intentions concealed beneath a feigned indifference to the resort’s opulence and its scantily clad clientele lounging by the infinity pool. To the resort staff, they seemed like just another group of affluent visitors who, strangely, insisted on carrying their own heavy bags.
The colonel was somewhat surprised the poorly dressed American had access to a private Gulfstream jet that by all accounts had been chartered by him for the Thailand trip—a very expensive proposition.It was easy enough to track the plane’s tail number as it routed out of Phuket International Airport on its circuitous journey to San Salvador.
Chang notified Chinese agents already on the ground in San Salvador when the American’s destination was finally determined. They observed Murph and Linlin as they deplaned at a privately owned FBO at the main international airport and immediately transferred to a waiting tilt-rotor aircraft. His own assault team arrived just fourteen hours later.
A reliable contact within the airport’s tower forwarded the tilt-rotor’s radar track along with its final landing destination—a ship anchored a mile offshore from Port Acajutla.
The young American was nothing if not surprising in his access to resources, Chang thought. He reached out to Peng De and reported his findings.
“Do you want me to organize a boarding assault?” the colonel asked. Chang was the youngest man to hold that rank in the infamous organization having earned his stripes by his aggressive attitude and tactical skills.
“Not yet,” Peng said. “If she were in trouble, she would have reached out to me by now. I suspect she’s burrowing deeper into the rat’s nest. But have your team ready. At some point she will need your assistance.”
“We stand ready now, sir, awaiting your command.”
“Very good. And, Colonel, might I suggest you get some rest while you wait?”
“My team is rested and ready, sir.”
“Then at least try the coffee while you’re there. I understand it’s the best in the world.”
“Is that an order, sir?” Chang leered beneath his sunglasses at a particularly attractive young woman diving into the pool not far from his balcony.
“Merely a suggestion. But avoid all other distractions.”
It seemed as if Peng De could read his mind. Always.
“Understood, sir.”
38
Panama
“There they go,” Raven whispered. She and Linc were hidden in the trees in the evening gloom. The twoOregonoperators watched a dozen LED headlamps bounce in the dark as the Iranians broke camp from the main body of migrants and threaded their way into the jungle.
It had been four arduous days since the rescue of the girls farther back on the trail. Fording perilous rivers, slogging through mud, scrambling over boulders, and sometimes surrendering their meager belongings to armed thieves had taken a ragged toll on the civilians making the hazardous trek. Several had disappeared altogether.
Every instinct in Raven and Linc had been to stay back with the stragglers and protect the weakest members of the herd from the predators. But their mission was too important and too many other lives were possibly at stake. They made the heart-wrenching decision to speed forward, and as the days progressed they finally caught up with the lead groups of younger men at the head of the column.
Raven had edged close to one cluster of young Arabic speakers she had observed early in the trip. The men had set up camp just off the main trail, and built small fires to boil water for tea. In the gloaming light of early evening, two of the men fell into their native Farsi tongue, reminiscing about one particularly striking green-eyed girl from their village when an older man barked harshly at them in Arabic to shut up.
“Boys will be boys,” Raven whispered to herself.
“Who’s there?” another Arabic voice shouted in her direction.
The other men suddenly quieted. Several stood, and two began heading her way, searching the ground with flashlights.
Raven bolted in a noiseless crouch through the trees and back to Linc, who’d set up camp near a young family on the main trail. A toddler was wearing out a candy bar Linc had given him.
Raven told Linc what she had seen and heard. This was the break they had been waiting for. Their mission was to find a hidden Quds Force base camp somewhere out here in the Darién Gap. They hadn’t picked up a single clue so far until now. A group of Iranian-speaking fighting-age males might well be headed for their mission target.
