Diaz waited until he was finished. Then, without warning, a burst of wind came in hard--just as she took her next shot.

The round exploded into the wall just above the guard's left shoulder.

Her brothers began screaming in her head as she reloaded in one smooth motion and the guard dropped to his belly, seeking cover.

But she still had him in her sights. And as he crawled forward, her second shot caught him in the middle of his back. He did not move again.

"Captain, this is Diaz. You're clear!"

Mitchell and Smith jogged forward toward the main entrance of the central building, while Ramirez and Nolan broke right toward the long, curving wall of the east building and its rows of rectangular windows. Once they drew closer, they'd have two guards to pick off before they moved inside.

According to the CIA's inside guy, Colonel Xu was in the central building, while each of the others were staying in the south, east, and north buildings, respectively. Their locations had been assessed by the Ghosts' intelligence analysts and sent to Mitchell's HUD so that he and the others need only follow the intel indicators to find the men.

Admittedly, Mitchell had chosen to take out Xu because he knew Fang had been stationed on the roof of Xu's building. Fang had come down when the rain had picked up, and Mitchell assumed that the bastard was somewhere inside.

Ramirez crawled on his hands and knees through the muck as he neared the first guard, who was sniffling and huddling beside the door, his weapon pointed at the ground. Ramirez needed him to turn his head a bit more, so he issued a curt, "Hey!"

The guard looked down, up, didn't see Ramirez. He frowned, blinked, and then . . . he finally spotted him and made that turn.

One silenced round to the head ended his surprise and discomfort.

Ramirez waved on Nolan, and they kept tight to the wall, racing around to the opposite side of the building, where the second guy was posted near the other door.

They got down as they approached, and Nolan drifted out a bit from the wall, lifted his pistol, just as the guard raised his head and looked at them.

The shot kicked him onto his back.

Ramirez rose and raced to him. Clean head shot. He glanced back at Nolan, raised a thumb. They tried the door: locked. Ramirez fished out his tool kit and got to work, while Nolan covered him.

They still had one more guard in their way. He was, of course, posted outside Admiral Cai Ming's door.

Nolan breathed a curse and suddenly fired. Ramirez turned his head to watch a guard posted outside the south building tumble to his death.

"He was just coming around," Nolan explained. "And can you hurry up? It's not like bad guys are trying to shoot us or anything."

Ramirez jabbed one of his tools into the lock. "I'm an artist, bro. Patience."

Huang peered out his window and saw the dead guard lying beside the central building. It was happening now, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

They were in the west building, on the fifth floor. He glanced over at his wife, who slept soundly, the candle-light playing over her face.

A knock came at the door. Huang frowned and answered it.

There stood Pan, a flashlight in one hand, a pistol in the other. "Step out here onto the balcony," he said.

"Pan, what is this?"

"You know what this is."

"No, I don't."

"I went back to my quarters and began thinking, and I realized that your little deal with the police has given me the perfect opportunity."

Huang shook his head. "I don't believe you."

Pan raised the pistol even higher. "They will think you were accidentally shot by the police or by one of Fang's guards. Your family has no money for an autopsy. There will be no investigation."

"Pan, listen to me. If you fire that gun, everything will be ruined. Is killing me worth that much to you? Think of your own sons. And remember, if you didn't have doubts, you wouldn't be talking to me."

Pan stepped forward, the pistol poised over Huang's forehead. "This is the only way I can save face with the council."

"No, it's not. When this is over, I will leave, okay? There is no reason to shoot me."

Pan's breathing grew labored, and Huang could almost hear the gears grinding in the man's head.

"Pan, go back to bed."

Fang stood outside Xu's door, his flashlight beaming at the floor. The row of fifth-floor balconies was otherwise dark. He tried to get in touch with Sergeant Chung, who'd once more failed to respond. What was that fool doing now? Huddling inside to smoke a cigarette? Fang was a few seconds away from going down there to beat the man with his cane.

He checked his watch. The power should be back up soon, and that was good. The rain, thunder, and lightning strained his eyes and made his bones ache. Just across the balcony, the building's roof sagged as chutes of water funneled down and tumbled five stories to the muddy courtyard below.

After calling once more into his radio, Fang decided to check in with his snipers. No response from the first.

But the second man's voice came tight with exertion: "Captain, I think I've spotted someone along the south ridge. Another sniper, maybe. Need time to confirm, over."

"You find out who that is."

"I will, sir."

Fang immediately called out to his first team of guards in the east building. After a long pause, only Sergeant Keng, the guard posted outside Admiral Cai's door, responded. Fang demanded to know what was happening with the others, but Keng was not sure. He could only see the courtyard from his vantage point.

Fang rushed along the balcony and toward the staircase. He ordered one of Sergeant Chung's men to come up and assume his position, but again, his order was met with static.

It took incredible force of will for Mitchell to crouch there, peering from behind the cracked door as Fang Zhi jogged right by him.

Yes, Mitchell could have chanced an interception. But any noise, even the slightest, could alert Colonel Xu--and he was the true target.

Behind Mitchell, Smith held the young village man and his wife at gunpoint, his finger to his lips after he'd ordered them to be quiet in Mandarin.

For a long moment, Mitchell remained there, just breathing, his thoughts lost in another decade, in a moment that turned his blood cold.

"Boss? We ready?"

Mitchell stared through the sergeant. Only one fact registered: that he had allowed Fang to walk away.

"Boss?"

"Yeah. Come on. Three doors down. Let's do it."

Mitchell stood, slid over his Cross-Com's monocle, then he and Smith reached into their packs and tugged out their lightweight enhanced night-vision goggles (ENVGs). Their eyes had adjusted to the outside, but they wouldn't take chances within the darker confines of Xu's room. The straps fit firmly over their heads.

Mitchell opened the door and returned to the balcony. He skulked along the wall with Smith in his shadow. They reached Xu's door and took up positions on either side. Mitchell gave Smith a terse nod.

As the sergeant's size-thirteen foot connected with the warped wood, a gunshot rang out in the distance, leaving Mitchell confused as the door swung open and he dropped to the floor, with Smith coming in above him.

In a bed on the opposite side of the room lay a screaming woman pulling blankets up to her neck. Next to her, on the side nearest Mitchell, was the young colonel, who rolled over toward a small nightstand, where his sidearm sat in its holster.

Chapter Twenty-Seven.

HAKKA CASTLE

XIAMEN, CHINA

APRIL 2012