“See? Now you’re being stupid,” said Wit. “You have no right to arrest us. We’ve committed no crime. We’re not even on Chinese soil yet. This office is neutral territory.”
“I could arrest you as soon as I let you in. Right over the border.”
Wit shook his head, as if feeling sorry for the kid.
“Your stupid meter keeps going up. Think. If you arrest us right after we’re through, then it’s obvious you let us in only for that purpose. Again, we’ll have committed no crime. My men and I represent thirty different countries. Do you really want the embassies of thirty different countries calling your superior officers and asking why China arrested citizens who legally crossed its borders?”
“You’re soldiers. Your very presence in China is illegal.”
“You’re missing the point,” said Wit. “Everything you’re suggesting puts a target on your head. When this becomes an international incident, who do you think the Chinese are going to blame to pacify all parties involved? Us? The people who valiantly crossed into China to help its citizens and save lives? No. It will be you. You will take the hit. You’ll be stripped of rank, honor, and any affiliation with the military. You’ll have to get a blue-collar job. Maybe loading boxes somewhere. Or chopping the heads off fishes in some rancid-smelling market. You won’t meet and marry that daughter of a party official. You won’t rise to a position of station. You’ll waste away in a one-room apartment with a bad back and no pension. Those are the facts, Lieutenant. You can let us in or you can send us away. The choice is yours.”
Five minutes later Wit and his men were walking east into China. They stayed on the shoulder of the road in a long line as cargo trucks streamed past, heading toward the airfield. Wit stuck out his thumb, and it didn’t take long before a truck picked them up and gave them a lift.
*
They slept on the plane, squeezed between crates and boxes. The pilot had accepted their offer without a second thought and promised to take them only as far as Hotan. From there they caught a flight to Jiuquan, and then to Zhengzhou. They ate when they were hungry and slept when they were tired.
Through it all Wit tracked the progress of the war. The Chinese were touting great successes and victories but supplying no evidence for either, which suggested it was all bogus, or at least highly exaggerated. The Russian army had offered to enter China and assist in the war, but China had refused. Probably because the Chinese worried that the Russians might not leave when the war was over. Kick out one invading army only to have another one to deal with.
The nets were flooded with vids. The Formics were relentless. Their skimmers were fast and lethal. Their troops were calm and methodical. They burned the countryside wherever they went, spraying their defoliants like farmers. The Chinese tried to take down the vids and paint a different picture, but you couldn’t stop the floodgates of information.
Wit searched for more vids from Mazer Rackham but found none, which concerned him. It had been days now. There was no official word from New Zealand or the Chinese that Wit could find, which either meant that Mazer had been discreetly pulled back from the frontlines, or that he was MIA.
On their third day in the country they landed in Changsha. It was the last flight they were going to get. Commercial flights were grounded now, and no pilot would fly any farther south no matter how much money Wit offered.
Wit made a few calls from the airport. He needed all-terrain vehicles, and the black market in Changsha seemed like as good a place as any to find them. His contacts in Hunan province put him in touch with some shady people, who put him in contact with some even worse people, who suggested Wit go to a used truck lot in the southern, industrial part of the city called Winjia Alley. Wit took Calinga and Lobo with him and left the rest of the men at the airport.
The old man who greeted them at the lot was in his eighties maybe, with a slightly hunched back and a broad sun cap and a pair of exoskeleton braces on his legs to assist him with walking. He introduced himself as Shoshang.
“I’m Captain O’Toole of the Mobile Operations Police. These are two of my companions Calinga and Lobo.”
Shoshang smiled. “Soldiers, eh? Come to fight the Formics.”
“We’ve come to help as much as we can,” said Wit.
“You think China needs help? You think China isn’t strong enough?”
“From what I’ve seen, no country is strong enough. Not the U.S., not any nation in Europe, not Russia, no one. We all must help.”
“Help is what I do best,” said Shoshang. “What are you looking for?”
“Armored transports. Off-roaders. All-terrain. Enough to carry forty men and supplies. And they need to be airtight.”