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see the wavetops through the small round window. Just then, the aircraft’s crew chief lowered the rear cargo ramp and swung the GAU-21 .50 caliber machine gun into position. That would provide the Osprey a nasty little tail stinger. But one they hoped they would not have to employ.

The aircraft suddenly lurched upward to clear the high coral cliffs at the water’s edge and then roared at near treetop level across the heavily forested tabletop plateau. They would fly past Lupepau’u Airport and then follow Tu’i Road down to the island’s courthouse and jail building while their twin turned toward the pier and the research ship.

The pilot’s voice was again on the intercom. “Colonel, some kind of military aircraft on the taxiway at the airport. I’m linking the FLIR image to your laptop. This bad boy must’ve just arrived. He wasn’t on the pre-flight intel brief.”

The picture popped up immediately on Readly’s computer. He studied the screen intently. The FLIR—forward-looking infrared camera—provided him a surprisingly good, high-resolution image of an aircraft parked near the tiny airport’s runway, a short distance from the small terminal building. He could not identify the exact model, but it was clearly a four-engine turboprop. Almost certainly a military transport. That was confirmed by the presence of half a dozen armed men guarding the plane. The Tongan military did not own such a plane. Nor any plane at all, for that matter.

Readly knew it had to be Chinese. That was the only possible answer. Especially with all those Chinese marines on Niue, only four hundred klicks to the east. Its presence and the likelihood of Chinese marines being on the island had just cranked up the difficulty level of this operation astronomically. The pilot was correct. The pre-mission intel imagery was only a couple of hours old. That plane did not appear anywhere on it.

But Readly’s mission had not changed. Difficult or not, he would go ahead and try to free the hostages and secure the research vessel.

“Guys, listen up,” he spoke into his throat mike. “It looks like we may have some Chinese party crashers down there. Based on a transport we are seeing on the runway, there could be as many as a hundred shooters on the ground. Stay alert and keep your heads on a swivel. If something shoots at you, kill it.”

The colonel did briefly consider canceling the rescue mission or changing the plan to concentrate all four aircraft on the hostage rescue. He rejected the idea of aborting the mission out of hand. They were, by now, only seconds out from their destinations. It was far too late to change plans.

“Colonel!” There was urgency in the Osprey pilot’s voice. “Troops on the road, one klick out from the LZ and heading that way. You’re going to have company quick. I can try to keep ’em occupied while you grab the hostages.”

As he spoke, his bird flared out, its two huge engines rotating upward, and shifted to hover mode. Then Mike Hotel Two roared past them, still flying horizontally, headed to the waterfront. As Readly watched the other aircraft zoom away, his Osprey kicked up a dust storm as it settled down smoothly into the dirt parking lot beside the courthouse. The bird’s wheels had not even touched the ground yet when Ramirez yelled, “Follow me, world-beaters!” and jumped off the rear ramp.

The Marines roared “Hoorah!” in unison as they charged down the ramp and sprinted across the parking lot. Several set up a hasty perimeter while the rest crashed through the flimsy structure’s wooden door. The bird was already starting to climb as Readly jumped off the ramp and ran toward the building. Just before he ducked into the wooden courthouse, he heard the unmistakable rumble of the Osprey’s .50 caliber machine gun as it opened up on the Chinese parade headed his way.

Inside, Master Sergeant Ramirez stood guard over a pair of wide-eyed local constables. They were already disarmed and zip-tied to chairs.

Ramirez pointed down a narrow corridor. “Hostages are down there. We may have a diplomatic problem that requires your leadership, sir.”

Readly could not tell if Ramirez was smiling or not. The colonel dashed down the hallway toward the cell blocks at the far end. Then he saw the released hostages hurrying back toward him, directed by several of the Marines. Behind them, two more Marines were frog-marching a rather well-dressed Tongan, someone who clearly was not one of the hostages. And the gentleman did not appear to be cooperating with his escorts.

“Who’s this dude?” Readly asked.

“He was interrogating the hostages when we showed up, sir,” the squad leader answered. “And he didn’t exactly appreciate it when we informed him we were here to bail them out of his little jail. He started spoutin’ a lot of legal gibberish. We decided we’d introduce him to you, Colonel.”

The Tongan struggled to get loose, to no avail.

“I demand to be released,” he was ranting. “Do you know who I am? I am Ahio Evaipomama and I personally represent His Majesty’s Ministry of Justice and the Office of the Lord Chancellor. I demand that I be released and that these prisoners be returned to my custody. They are under indictment for violating Tongan...”

Readly held up his hand.

“Shut the hell up! I really don’t give a damn who the hell you are. You are going with us and will be charged with kidnapping and piracy once we get your ass to a proper international court.” The colonel turned to the squad leader. “Restrain and gag him. Make sure he gets a VIP seat on the evac chopper.”

The Marines dragged the struggling man away just as Sergeant Ramirez’s voice popped into Readly’s earbuds.

“Skipper, the 53s are five mikes out. Our Chinese friends are only about one. We’ll need some shooters up here.”

Readly ran to the front of the courthouse, joined by the rest of the squad. Ramirez and his fire team were crouched behind a low coral wall and, along with the

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