Chapter 1

“Missile has been fired!” yells a crew member on the bridge of the USS Downley.

“All hands on deck! Communications get on the horn with the Chinese and command!” Admiral Russell Pellington barks. “Prepare for battle!”

“Sir, Captain Tong of the Chinese flagship Gang Jun is on the line.”

“Put him through,” the admiral orders.

“Missile has been shot down,” a seaman quickly relays.

Pellington gives a curt nod in the seaman’s direction and then gives his attention to the screen where Captain Delun Tong now appears. “I apologize for the missile attack Admiral Pellington,” Tong says with crisp English. “We are under way to investigation the reason for it.”

Pellington gives the screen a stern look. “You had better get your sailors under control before the war does begin.”

“Do not presume to give me orders, Admiral,” Tong snaps back. “I do no...” The screen goes blank, abruptly cutting Captain Tong off mid-sentence.

“Communications?” Pellington says, not diverting his eyes from the screen. “What is happening?”

“Montana is under attack, sir!”

“Damn it,” the admiral swears under his breath. “If it’s a battle they want, then they’re going to get one. All ships, full attack!”

“Major?”

“Yes, Nash?”

“The war has started.”

“Then we don’t have much time,” Graves says, looking at his watch.

“Time for what?” Spencer asks.

“We are on a time schedule,” Graves answers. “I can’t tell you much of what is going to happen because much of it is classified and even with our alliance we once had with Roger cannot cut through all the red tape.”

“Then what the fuck can you tell us?” Samantha asks, beginning to get irritated over the sidestep talk. Much of her irritation is because of former boss’ death, which Spencer will help her through later. Right now there are too many other priorities to work through.

“Still got that fight in you,” the major remarks. Samantha smirks. “With Winter controlling the Russian and Chinese armies, there is simply no way the TDF or Black List can stop them. Simply put, we are the last line of defense against Avyanna.”

“So why the hell are we here?” Spencer asks bluntly.

“Because you two are already involved,” Graves simply puts.

“No,” Samantha quickly counters. “You said because of Roger you got involved.”

Graves laughs. “Nothing gets past you. I see why Roger held you two in such high regard. Because of Roger we went out of our way to pick you two up before the Chinese did.”

Samantha makes a humph sound and folds her arms across her chest before sitting down. Spencer decides that it is time to turn the conversation around. “I don’t suppose we have many options here.”

“Not really,” Graves answers.

“Then what’s the plan, because afterward we are going after Roger’s killer,” the man continues.

“No going to happen,” the major says firmly.

“And why the hell not?” Samantha demands, jumping up from her seat.

The three soldiers stop what they are doing to see what is going to happen next.

“Let’s just say that it’s a conflict of interests,” Graves says smartly.

“With who?” Spencer asks. “And who killed him? We’ll find out soon enough, you know.”

“I’m sure you will, but that will have to come later,” Graves says with a shrug. “Right now it’s classified.”

The two men stand and stare at each other. The three soldiers tense, grabbing their weapons and readying themselves in case a conflict breaks out. It wouldn’t be smart shooting anyone in a plane, but they hope the presence of the weapons will be enough to make the two agents stand down.

“This is bullshit, and you know it,” Spencer says at last.

“It may be, but I have a boss and my boss tells me I can’t share,” Graves agrees with a curt smile.

Spencer is about to say more when his partner grabs his arm and gives him a look to let it go. “What’s the mission?” she asks.

“We rendezvous with the last member of my team in Port Louis. From there we HALO jump two klicks from the island of Madagascar. We will then infiltrate the complex eliminating any threats and finally Avyanna herself.”

“Sounds simple enough on paper,” Spencer remarks.

“With my team there is no need to worry,” the major says confidently. “They will get the job done.”

“So who is the team, since we are going to be working with them?” Spencer asks. “Unless that’s classified too.”

Graves ignores the childish sarcasm and begins to point out each member present. “We have Lieutenant Commander Wesley Nash; Petty Officer Jared Bridges, our corpsman; Senior Chief Petty Officer Jasper Mason, our heavy weapons expert; and the one member not present at the moment, Warrant Officer Katie Matthews, our sniper.”

Samantha and Spencer look at each member as if studying them as models in an art class. Nash has the gung ho look about him with his lean muscular look. Bridges is more slender looking, like a runner, except for the small mohawk, which seems odd a soldier to have. Mason is the tallest and largest of the group. If they had never met the man before this, he could be easily mistaken as an average person that is into body building.

“So this little group is the last line of defense?” Spencer asks inquisitively.

“In a way, yes,” Graves confirms. “You will meet my boss once we reach Port Louis. He will deem what is necessary that you need to be told.

“Captain!” a lieutenant calls from his station, catching Tong’s attention quickly. “We have lost the Kai Che.”

“It is to be expected that we lose something,” the commander replies. “You have to lose before you can win, lieutenant. Notify the fleet to hold coarse. When I give the signal, we are to move with Battle Formation Bravo. And get me General Wei on the line.”

“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant says with a nod.

“We are within range of enemy cruisers, sir,” another lieutenant informs the captain.

“Have the Hai Tien come about to provide us protection.” Tong orders.

“Sir.”

“Where is my transmission to General Wei?”

“We don’t have communications, sir!”

“Contact engineering, damn it!” Tong yells furiously.

“Already did, sir,” the sailor says. “Able Seaman Chan is missing.”

“Missing?” Tong shakes his head, trying to get his anger under control. “Ship wide search. Find and detain him.”

“Destroyer off the port bow!” a yell rings out.

Tong curses to himself. His career is on the line and without any means of communication this battle will end too soon. Unless...”Dedicate a group to do a search of the ship. I want people in engineering working to get communications up and running. Get someone up on deck with flags. I want the Hai Tien and Fu Hsing to cover for us. Concentrate all fire on that destroyer. And switch to Battle Formation Tango with the remaining ships.”

“On it, sir.”

I will turn this disaster around. General Wei will not think he made a mistake. Tong grins, casting his eye over the torrent of crew busying themselves at their stations.

“What is the Oklahoma doing that far in enemy territory?” Pellington asks out loud. “Nobody has a goddamn answer?” he asks when no one steps up to give an answer right away.

“No one knows, sir.”

“What the hell do you mean, lieutenant?”

“We have no communications, sir.”

“Then get...” A sudden explosion shakes the ship, cutting the admiral off. Red lights flash on as the regular ones kick off. Alarms begin blaring, causing shouts to have to be made. “Get the alarms off. Damage assessment?”

“Explosion in the first armory, sir,” a sailor reports. “Minor damage caused the bulkhead to cave in. They are working to contain the water.”

“Will we sink or not?” Pellington questions, his tone hinting at impatience.

“Ship integrity is holding at ninety percent, sir.”

“Good.”

“Oh my fucking...” an ensign begins, stopping when he remembers his place. “Someone set a missile to detonate!”

“Ross,” Pellington says. “Find that son of a bitch and arrest him. Use Morse code to relay to the Oklahoma to pull back to safety. Get whatever ships are closest to us here for protection.”

“Sir, we just lost the Oklahoma.”

“Able Seaman Chan?”

Bryan Chan comes to a halt just as he is closing the door to the communications room when he hears his name called. He turns to face two men, both junior lieutenants. He stands at attention and salutes both men. “What can I help you with Lieutenant Tse, Lieutenant Fei?”

“You are to be detained and brought to the bridge to see Captain Tong.” Lieutenant Fei answers sharply.

“You must be mistaken, sir. I just come from the bridge and the matter has been cleared with Captain Tong. He sent me to the communication room,” he says, gesturing to the door that he just walked out from. “I was to find out why communications had been lost. You are welcome to call the bridge to ask, but I have order from Captain Tong and I must fulfill them.”

Both lieutenants look at each other, unsure whether to believe the man or not. “I’m sorry, but we still need to detain you until Captain Tong himself clears the matter,” Lieutenant Tse says, deciding it isn’t worth the risk in case the man is lying.

“Then I am sorry to do this,” Chan says as Tse reaches in to grab hold of him. He steps forward, blocking the lieutenant’s arms with his, pushing them outward. With a frim heel kick, Tse goes flying backward into the ship’s bulkhead.

Lieutenant Fei doesn’t hesitate and begins to unholster his gun, but Chan is too quick. The seaman reaches down, grabbing the other man’s hand, holding it down along with the pistol. With his other hand, Chan back fists his superior. Fei lets go of his grip of the weapon and attempts to grab Chan, but is stopped short by a chop to the throat.
By now Tse is back on his feet and charging Chan. Catching the man in the stomach, he forces Chan back, slamming him into the bulkhead. Chan reaches down and wraps his arm around Tse’s neck and yanks up. An audible crunch resounds and the man goes limp.

Chan walks over to Fei, who is lying on the ground, and places two fingers on his neck. When there isn’t a pulse, he rolls the man over to see that he has killed him by crushing his throat. Chan scans the immediate area to ensure no one is going to surprise him, before hiding the two dead bodies in a storage room. He knows they won’t stay hidden for long, but it doesn’t matter. Once the bodies in the communications room are found the entire ship will be on alert.

The plane lands smoothly on the tiny island of Mauritius, where is finally settles in a private and secluded hanger on the edge of the airstrip. Spencer and Samantha exit the plane after Graces, followed by the DEeP Six members. The temperature is mild with a cool ocean breeze mixed in.

“Nice place. Maybe we should move here,” Spencer says sarcastically, throwing a sidelong glance to his partner who responds with a smile. “I know better than to ask, but I will anyway. This isn’t an official American installation is it?”