Americans fired, and the White Tiger who had used the grenade launcher must not have turned on his jetpack in time. Like a meteor, he slammed against the roof and bounced. Americans turned toward him in shock. The dead White Tiger bowled over an American. The two went tumbling and they knocked over another enemy. At least the White Tiger had performed a useful combat service to his country by failing to brake.
Zhu clicked the grenade launcher. It spewed grenades, but he didn’t aim therefore some sailed off the roof. His feet crashed down. Zhu let his knees buckle and his armored body fell sideways. An American fired at him. It felt as if a giant smashed Zhu in the side. Fortunately, his dinylon armor staved off death by deflecting the bullet. He took another round, grunting in pain. Then Zhu found his assault rifle in his hands. He had no idea how it had gotten there. Methodically, from on his belly, he began firing bursts. More Eagle flyers landed. Gunhawks chain-gun fired sections of roof. It was chaos, madness—war!
The next few seconds were impossible for Zhu to understand. His face was screwed up with fear and faith, with horror and elation. He found himself on his feet, roaring words that didn’t make sense. He jammed the rifle against an armored American’s side and shot his way into flesh.
Then, as suddenly as the mayhem boiled over, it ended. The White Tigers had captured the roof.
“The stairwell!” Tian shouted. “Zhu, cover the door and shoot anyone coming out.”
Once more, Zhu dropped onto his belly. Enemies opened the door and American grenades sailed through at them. He fired, heard thuds, and the grenades went off on the roof. Speckles of shrapnel rattled off his dinylon armor, but he was okay.
From high above, two Gunhawks poured concentrated fire at the stairwell entrance. Zhu had a front row seat to annihilating destruction.
“Reinforcements are on their way!” Tian shouted. “We have to keep the Americans from getting up here.”
In the end, cargo helos disgorged Chinese infantry. They battled their way down the stairwell to begin taking this all-important apartment complex. Meanwhile, below, Marauder flame-spewing tanks and IFVs charged the building. If they could take the bottom floors, they would trap the American soldiers.
The cost in Eagle flyers proved high. The second lieutenant was killed. So was half of the platoon, although most of Tian’s squad had survived.
“This is just like Los Angeles,” Tian said, as he crouched beside Zhu. “It’s an inferno.”
Zhu was too tired to comment. He simply knelt, his mind a blank, glad that he had proved himself once again and had kept from acting like a coward.
DENVER, COLORADO
The helicopter’s blades began to turn as it sat on the tarmac. Inside the helo, Paul felt Romo tap him on the shoulder. He turned to his blood bother. The man was finally out of the hospital and ready to return to the field.
Romo pointed outside.
Paul saw a jeep careen toward the helo. It screeched to a halt and Captain Anderson of SOCOM jumped out. He motioned to Paul.
“I’ll be right back,” Paul told Romo. He slid open the door and jumped onto the tarmac. The chopper’s blades blew his hair. He ran to the jeep.
“Sir,” Paul said, holding out his hand.
“I wanted to say good-bye,” Anderson said.
They shook hands.
“Is General Ochoa still angry about the Mexican assassin?” Paul asked.
“He wished you could have disarmed him instead of giving him a metal beard,” Anderson said.
“Yeah, sure,” Paul said. “It would’ve been so easy to do, too.”
“I want you to be careful, Master Sergeant. Valdez is mental, and he’s not finished with you or your friend.”
“This war,” Paul said, “it’s making us all a little mental.”
Anderson shook his head. “I’m not crazy, though I don’t know about anyone else. Hey, I have a favor to ask you.”
Paul glanced at the jeep. He seemed to recognize the man sitting in the passenger side. The man had a hunter’s cap low over his eyes, making it hard to tell exactly whom it was. “Who is that?”
“Have you forgotten already?” Anderson asked.
“I’ve been busy.”
“That’s Mr. Knowles. You plucked him from Mr. Smith’s farmhouse, from a partisan meeting.”
“Oh, right. Is Knowles the favor?”
“Yes. I’m not too sanguine about Denver’s chances. It isn’t fair to Knowles for him to stay here.”
Paul wanted to ask if it was fair to Anderson. Maybe Colonel Valdez had done Romo and him a favor with the little hospital stunt. The Chinese wanted Denver. How long