“That way? Safer? What do you mean?”
“Red patrol stays close to main road. Sometimes they let kids like me through. But, if they angry, or their Big Boss chew ’em out, then they don’t care whether you kid or not. They shoot you or catch you and make you work like slave. Once you in slave labor camp, you never come back.”
Biff was silent.
“You think maybe you like to go in find your Uncle Charlie. Put snatch on him from Red baddies?”
“Something like that, Chuba. Think we could do it?”
Chuba didn’t answer too quickly. His thin face was screwed up in thought. “Be most rough. But we smart. Most patrol dumb. Maybe all go well—maybe not—”
Biff didn’t want to hear any more. His mind was made up. If they had a fifty-fifty chance of finding Uncle Charlie, then that was all he wanted.
“Meet me back here in an hour, Chuba. I want to talk to Sahib Jack.”
Biff found Jack Hudson in the communications center, pouring over a large map of China. Biff moved to his side.
“Trying to figure out where Charlie might be,” Jack said. He pointed to a position on the map.