Warshot (The Hunter Killer Series Book 6) by Don Keith (dark books to read TXT) 📕

“As you can see, Admiral,” the king offered, “we have accomplished much and will soon begin laying foundations and raising the walls of this magnificent facility you and your country’s generosity have made possible.”

Yon Hun Glo looked over at King Tofuwanga with a cold stare.

“What is this? I fully expected to see the terminal construction well underway. We have given you billions of pa’anga to erect a shipping terminal. You have had adequate time and all the resources required. Please tell me that you have at least dredged the channel into the harbor and turning basin.”

The Tongan king shifted uncomfortably under the admiral’s glare.

“You must understand that there are many hurdles,” he explained. “We must clear many administrative and planning gates before construction can actually commence. These are ancient grounds with many religious restrictions that must be dealt with carefully. Plus, the people are demanding that they share in the prosperity from the construction, though few are qualified, of course. Soon now, though, we will be able to start, beginning with the required dredging, of course. As soon as we negotiate a work share for my people and explain the necessity for the project to the elders, we will be able to renegotiate a new completion timeframe that...”

When he interrupted, Yon Hun Glo’s voice was flat, dripping with menace.

“You are the ruler of this godforsaken little rock. You did not seem to require permission when you signed the agreement and accepted our money. Nor were any elders consulted. There will be no renegotiation. Two heavy-duty dredges left Quanzhou last week. They will arrive in ten days. A battalion of construction engineers will begin to arrive tomorrow. You will, of course, make certain they have adequate lodging and food for the term of their stay.”

King Tofuwanga sputtered, protesting, “You are violating Tongan sovereignty. You have no right…”

Yon Hun Glo interrupted. “You lost your right to protest when you accepted our money. You will cooperate and enjoy the fruits of our benefice or we will replace you with one of your cousins who, we are assured, will be more than glad to move into the palace. Do I make myself clear?”

King Tofuwanga looked sick. He nodded meekly and slumped in his seat.

“Now, take me back to the airport,” the Chinese admiral ordered. “I see no reason for any further discussions. The airplane will have been unloaded by now.” The Tongan monarch looked at him questioningly. “I brought a communications center to set up at the airport. And a company of Marines to guard it.”

The short drive back to Fua’amotu International Airport was made in complete silence. There was no handshake, no farewell, when Yon Hun Glo departed the coolness of the limo, strutted across the tarmac, and climbed up into the waiting transport.

As the Xi’an Y-20 climbed out and pointed its nose to the west, Yon Hun Glo was already calling his brother in Beijing.

“Elder brother, it is precisely as we expected. That foolish king has squandered every last one of the loans we have given him. No construction has begun. Even with much blasting, it will require more than a month before we have a harbor deep enough and wide enough for a squadron of submarines, let alone for large warships. I suggest we immediately reinforce our marine garrison to full strength just in case the king or someone else back there decides to make a foolish stand. Or some busybody ventures to come to his miserable assistance.”

Ψ

The bright orange UUV swung from the crane that reached out over the Deep Ocean Explorer’s stern. Dr. Rex Smith watched as the crane slowly came around and deftly lowered the UUV onto its cradle. Sandy McDougal, Mitch O’Donnell, and the factory tech rep for the underwater exploration vehicle pounced on the UUV as if it were so much prey.

Minutes later, O’Donnell stepped over to Smith.

“Doc, you ain’t gonna believe this. Looks like our little friend bounced into the bottom and ripped out the lower acoustic transponder.”

“Yeah, so tell me why you’re smiling,” Smith replied.

Mitch O’Donnell opened his hand to show him something. His palm was filled with glittering yellow metal.

“Because the cavity where the transponder came from was filled with this! Gold! Sandy is downloading the mission data now. We’ll know exactly where the UUV found this stuff in a minute.”

Realization washed over the researcher’s face, leaving him so dizzy he had to reach for a handrail to steady himself.

Ψ

Li Min Zhou was clearly just as comfortable in the office of the Chief of Naval Intelligence in the Pentagon as she would have been in her own unassuming office in Taiwan’s Military Intelligence Bureau in Taipei. As unafraid as she might have been in a firefight on a night mission into hostile territory. Even as comfortable as she had been in front of the inattentive Senate committee the previous week. But thankfully, at least one of those senators had been listening to what she had been trying to tell them.

“Admiral, I hope you will relay to Senator Murson how much I appreciate his setting up this meeting with you,” she said. “And I know you will find it is worth your time and attention.”

“Thad is one of the good guys,” Jon Ward told her. “He understands better than most what we are trying to do down here. Now, what can I help you with?”

She looked him straight in the eyes when she answered. No-nonsense lady, Ward thought. But he instinctively checked the antique ship’s clock on the wall anyway. His schedule was full, overbooked.

“You are doubtless aware of many of my previous activities, Admiral. You know I hold the rank of senior field officer in the Taiwanese Marines. That I am an expert in demolition, all weaponry, and hand-to-hand combat. That I have combat experience in actions that made the news and far more skirmishes that never will. Officially, they never happened, but be assured our team won most