by Hock G Tjoa
The Chinese Spymaster added, “Fortunately, we are able to assure you that we have referred and will continue to refer to this as a Palestinian operator.”
Yigael smiled grimly and said, “Nothing that we do is easy. We appreciate our relationship with you, and we hope it will continue for longer than either of us finds it necessary. On our side, we must resolve this.”
The Israeli agent paused to pass the platter of hummus across the table before continuing, “Once we do, I shall get word to you. It will be in two weeks’ time, one if we can find a way to sleep faster. By that time, the Americans will have no doubt uncovered the early negotiations, and it will give me great pleasure not to have them breathing down my neck for this.”
“They are badgering you for other things, no doubt,” said Wang sympathetically. “Here is perhaps a small gift for you. We learned of the presence of Palestinians in Sudan. The word is they are there to train the locals. Perhaps they are also trying to recruit.”
“Thank you, but that is generally known. Specifics would be helpful,” said Yigael. Hu handed him a small envelope that he received with eyebrows raised and slipped into a pocket. He nodded in appreciation and said, handing a flash drive to Wang, “This may be of interest to you. We have been monitoring the activities and communications of some Palestinians in Afghanistan. They mentioned the presence of a few Uyghurs among the Uzbeks there.”
“Thank you, Yigael,” said Wang with a tired look and a smile “Few outsiders can actually tell the difference between the Uzbeks and the Uyghurs, even though Uzbek is an Indo-European language and Uyghurs think of themselves as Turks.” He accepted a small file from Yigael.
With a shake of his head, the Spymaster stood up and said, “Our work never ends.”
“Someday in Jerusalem, maybe,” said Yigael.
“Shalom everyone,” replied Wang, raising his right hand with palm open as a farewell gesture.
“I’m sure we look as if we drank too much,” Tang said as the three Chinese agents walked to a Chinese safe house in London, still trying to dodge areas that they knew were in full view of the CCTV. They soon arrived at a storefront in a row of bookstores, low-end antique stores, and sundry shops. They knocked, and a young woman let them in. Upstairs there was a small room in which they found the Chinese Ambassador to the Court of St. James and Second Brother Ma.
They began with the latest news, the Uyghurs in Afghanistan. Tang spoke first, pulling from her preparations a paper for the Committee on Public Safety,
“There are one million Uyghurs in the Central Asian republics. They have been infected with the ideas of the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan. There are far more, nine million, Uyghurs in Xinjiang and the rest of China. They harbored resentment against the Chinese government for the last century. They, and the five and a half million Tibetans in China, are a great security concern, right after the threat of nuclear proliferation and of geopolitical instability in Central Asia.”
The ambassador nodded and said with wonder and sadness, “So small a percentage of the population of China—no wonder it is hard to get the government to pay serious attention!” He gestured to a tray full of tea and sesame seed and peanut brittle snacks. His guests followed Tang’s lead in declining since they had just eaten a big meal.
“It is a big ship that we sail on and difficult to turn around quickly,” said Wang. “Our agency can only allude to these matters in our presentations to the Committee on Public Safety. The balance of power in Central Asia is under the mandate of the Ministry for Foreign Affairs. The Uyghurs and Tibetans in China belong to those with the mandate for counter-terrorism.”
The Spymaster massaged his temples with his knuckles, an attempt to clear a headache, although many find the cure more painful than the ailment. He looked up at Tang as she took a document out of her satchel and handed it to the ambassador:
“Here is a copy of my presentation last week to the Committee on Public Safety. I believe the Spymaster has discussed some of its ideas with you already.”
“Thank you,” said the ambassador. “I will find it useful for the report I am to make of your mission to my ministry.” He turned to Wang and asked, “When will we know if the Pashtun arms deal is over?”
“I suspect that we will not write the last chapter on the Pashtuns any time soon,” replied the Spymaster. “We found six arms deals, and believe this phase will be concluded within a month.”
Wang gestured to the head of operations, inviting him to speak and Hu said, “There might be other transactions, or one of our attempts to nip them in the bud might fail. There is always the possibility that the Pashtuns might proceed anyway, despite their failure to obtain a nuclear device.”
Spymaster Wang interjected, “In any case, who knows whether the Afghans or the Pakistanis will face down the Pashtuns. Other parties will probably be brought in, even though both Afghanistan and Pakistan would be most reluctant to call on the Americans. In any case, the balance of power of the whole region is unstable.”
The ambassador scanned Tang’s brief and paused to ask, “Do you think that militant Islam threatens China?” In the somber silence that greeted his question, he rose to help himself to tea and snacks.
The Spymaster followed and said with a nod to Tang the analyst, “Originally, the Islam practiced by the Uyghurs in China was more mystical than militant, but there is no question that the hardline views of the Uzbek movement will find receptive listeners among those who feel they have suffered at the hands of the Chinese.”
Ambassador Yu thought for a little while and then said, “We must prepare a plan based on the assumption that the Pashtuns proceed. Whether they do so now or later, Central Asia will become an important arena for geopolitical maneuvers. I don’t think that theirs is a religious movement, but I’ve no doubt that extreme views and terrorist methods will follow.”
“It will need to be a Foreign Ministry plan, I believe,” said Wang, “but you know you can ask us for any help we can provide.”
Yu nodded and said firmly, “I shall propose to the Foreign Ministry that there should be a security department for the SCO, one that can coordinate intelligence gathering among member nations, and that we should ask your agency for help in setting this up.” As an afterthought, he added, “We will need many more Persian and Turkish speakers for this task.”
Wang sighed as he knew how hard this was going to be. Most Chinese students hated having to learn a foreign language other than English. Centuries of self-sufficiency and looking only inward contributed to this.
“Well, we do have Russian speakers, but it is not desirable for our intelligence to be filtered through Russian lenses. We have not recruited nearly enough Arabic, Persian, or Turkish speakers yet. We should also look to develop knowledge and understanding of the different shades of Islam. Perhaps it will truly be a joint venture between the Agency and the Foreign Ministry.”
Wang helped himself to more of the peanut brittle, saying, “I suspect that it will be an uphill battle to persuade the ruling circles of China of the need to acquire and develop the intelligence assets that we need in Central Asia.”
“Ah, being a princeling has its advantages,” smiled the Ambassador. “My father and I do not always agree, but he will do whatever he can to further the career of his only son. Between us, I hope we can reach a few ears in the Standing Committee.”
Wang smiled at the thought. I hope Yu’s father’s main Party contact is someone other than Cai. Else, the Senior Commissar will discuss with himself intelligence, geopolitics, and the role of the MFA versus that of the Intelligence Agency.
He realized that at least one of his senior aides would be needed to help establish the security department of the SCO. Probably Administrator Hu. I thought I was preparing a successor!
Then, he suspected that Ministry of Foreign Affairs would also want someone to help them find their way out of the paper walls they had built around their own ideas. Someone like Analyst Tang.
It was
time for him to look for and train their successors in the Agency. With luck, the files on Operation Kashgar would be closed before the successors are needed. In a week or a month.
16: ATTACK ON AN ALLY
(Shanghai)
Spymaster Wang authorized the attack on the North Korean arms dealer for the third night of Kim’s visit to Shanghai. Surveillance of the embassy security detail protecting Kim indicated that he and Nadia would be dining in again. This was confirmed by surveillance of the Shanghai police detail conducted by the counter-terrorism unit of the police itself.
Wang ordered that there be no fatalities, if possible. The assault team assumed the first line of defense would be the Shanghai Police and the local gang hired by the Eastern Europeans. Against this perimeter, the assault team would deploy a rival gang led by a colleague of Old Gong’s from the police unit that dealt with organized crime.
Old Gong himself, Second Brother Ma, and Agent Li would then enter the building and capture Kim. Specifically, Old Gong and Second Brother would deal with the embassy security detail and Agent Li with Ban, who was on duty.
The Spymaster asked Second Brother Ma to take the lead on this mission. Firearms would be used only if the team was fired upon, to minimize the killing and wounding of combatants. Second Brother would also with the daytime bodyguard, Kang, in the event he was there and awake. As the agency was short on technical staff that evening, Administrator Hu himself undertook to disrupt communications between the entrance to the building and Kim’s apartment.
The attack began promptly at 9 p.m. as Administrator Hu emerged from a car and entered the building. As soon as he had disabled the communications, he gave the signal, and the perimeter defense was confronted by a rival local gang reinforced by the counter-terrorism police. No shots were fired. When the team reached Kim’s apartment, Old Gong and Second Brother had no trouble persuading the embassy security detail to lay down their arms. Hu handcuffed them and led them down the stairs, while Li and Second Brother Ma entered the apartment. Old Gong stood guard at the entrance of the apartment with the door slightly ajar.
Ban, Kim’s bodyguard, seemed eerily to have anticipated an attack and rose swiftly to engage with Agent Li just as the latter entered. Ban held a knife in his right hand with its blade pointing up. He would stab upwards and slash downwards. Li dived over the sofa that blocked the door from a sitting area between the entrance and the dining table. He was dressed in black with a bulletproof vest. His sleeves and gloves were standard issue when close combat involved knife work. They had thin, metallic fibers woven into the fabric and were intended to afford protection from the edges and tips of blades.
As Li engaged Ban, he held in his left hand a small device resembling a knuckle guard but adapted for defense against knives. The two circled each other and exchanged flurries of blows with fists and knife on knuckle guard, kicks, and leg sweeps. They seemed evenly matched, and despite the grunts signifying blows delivered or received, neither man showed any sign of shortness of breath after a few minutes of swift and ferocious attack and counter-attack. Then, Agent Li feinted with a kick to Ban’s head but dropped to the floor and executed a leg sweep. Ban bent his left knee to absorb the blow from the leg sweep and began a cartwheel to his left. He recovered with his knife in a throwing mode. As Li stood up, he found himself standing between Ban and the dining table, where Kim and Nadia sat transfixed by the ferocity of the fight.
Kim shouted from his seat, “What are you doing? I have diplomatic immunity!” Ban hesitated for a fraction of a second before throwing his knife just as Agent Li ducked and somersaulted toward Ban. As he stood up, he smashed his left fist with the knuckle guard into Ban’s throat. Li understood the Spymaster’s directive to minimize fatalities and had accepted that command, but he had sensed that his fight with Ban was a fight to the death. Ban’s knife found its way to Nadia’s throat.
Kang, Kim’s other personal bodyguard, looking very much as if he had been awakened from a deep sleep, stepped into the sitting area at that moment with Old Gong just behind him, holding a firearm with a silencer. Second Brother Ma entered from outside the apartment, looked around and said, “Mr. Kim, your life is not in any danger. It would be best if you come with us quietly. We will inform your embassy.”
At twelve minutes past nine, as the group walked away from Kim’s apartment, Second Brother Ma phoned the Spymaster, who said, “Bring him to the interrogation room nearest to my office, and call me when you arrive at the agency.” Kim was thus taken to the intelligence agency office itself, where he was asked to change into prison style pajamas; the guards then took his clothes and his shoes. He was still in shock at the swiftness of the attack, especially over the death of Nadia. She had been killed by the knife Ban had thrown, ostensibly aimed at Li.
If only he could be sure if Ban had intended to kill her! The very thought that Ban might have done so boggled his mind. The two men had fought on equal terms and Ban must know that in Agent Li he faced a foe equal in prowess. If he chose to take even half a second to kill Nadia, then he also chose to die. But, why? Why?
Meanwhile, the Spymaster reviewed what he heard half an hour earlier when he met with Commissioner Wen. “I just learned that an Internal Affairs investigation discovered a deposit of a million yuan into Superintendent Kong’s account. It appears that the money came from a North Korean source.”
Wang stood in silence, absorbing that information, then asked, “What are the repercussions?”
“Huge,” replied Wen. “The investigating officer is Special Prosecutor Lin, the younger brother of the Assistant Foreign Minister. We both know the man who attends the Committee on Public Safety. The brothers are not at all similar in character. This Lin resembles Lin Zexu, the Opium War hero, stubbornly dedicated to the truth and to what he thinks is best for China. Anyway, it is not a situation that anyone can influence. Lin will do whatever the investigation requires of him. Comrade Commissar Jiang is said to be furious and humiliated.”
Wen took a sip from the cup of tea he held and continued, “Rumor has it that the North Koreans first accused Kong of extorting the money from them. Then, they changed the story to say that Kong and Kim had worked out a shady arrangement together. Finally, it appears that they tried to blame the Eastern European pimps and the Shanghai gang working with them. I don’t know when this took place, but the memo concerning the investigation and ordering the suspension of Superintendent Kong was circulated among senior police officers late this afternoon.”
Wang heaved a sigh of relief and said, “I assume that it is likely all parties will be frozen until this investigation is concluded?” Wen nodded.
“Is such a conclusion likely within the next month?”
Wen weighed the possible answer to this question for a moment before he replied, “Lin reports directly to the highest level of our country’s leadership on his investigations, and both the President and the Prime Minister are under pressure to show progress on their promise to reduce or eliminate corruption within the government. I expect this matter to be carefully debated within the Party leadership. Whether the leadership will choose to emphasize the thoroughness or the swiftness of their actions…” Wen raised an eyebrow and a hand palm up.
Administrator Hu took a last look at the crime scene as Second Brother Ma led the team and its captive away. Something struck him as being out of place. Hu went quickly into the hall and called after Old Gong, who brought up the rear of the party. He gestured at the two dead bodies and asked, “What would you say happened here?”
Old Gong thought for a while and said facetiously, “Kim’s jealous bodyguard killed the woman, and our chivalrous Agent Li avenged her.”
“Old Gong, you have a twisted mind. That is a story I might tell Old Bo. I wonder what we might find if we made a quick search of these rooms.”
Old Gong, who had been in the same army unit as Hu and Bo, grinned and said, “If you see Old Bo, tell him I miss him. He was the only untwisted one among us.” He paus
ed to think about Hu’s last remark and said,
“Now I think we should check the master bedroom.” The two of them went lightly but quickly and thoroughly through the bedroom.
“They had a good time shopping, and Kim was generous,” observed Hu.
“But look at this!” declared his colleague.
Old Gong had neatly unpacked Nadia’s valise and found the four transmitters. Hu whistled and said, “Let’s go through her things carefully.”
They found the other four transmitters in the dresses and removed the dresses and the first transmitters. They decided to leave these out of the crime scene log of the police, at least initially.
Then, Hu left Old Gong to call in the police while he talked to the Spymaster. It was half-past nine, and Second Brother Ma was still on his way with Kim.
Hu said to Wang, “It is clear, sir. Someone sent Nadia to spy on Kim.”
“Hm, had it been a continuous arrangement? I wonder. If not, why now? She could have done so at any time over the past ten years. Does it have to do with…?”
“Operation Kashgar.” There was a pause as both men processed what they knew.
“We do not have enough pieces to complete this puzzle,” said Wang at last. “But thank you, Hu. I am sure it will come up in my conversation with Kim. You are welcome to sit in if you have nothing better to do.”
“Thank you, sir, but I must be ready early tomorrow morning. By the way, it appears that Agent Li performed well.” Hu described what he saw, especially of the “crime scene,” before ending his call to the Spymaster.
“Good evening, Mr. Kim,” said Spymaster Wang as he entered the interrogation room. He bowed slightly at Second Brother Ma to indicate that he could stay, but Second Brother Ma decided that he should spend a few moments with Agent Li. It is not every day that even a hardened soldier turned intelligence agent kills a man. He deserved a few words and such attention as a fellow agent could spare to help him return to the mundane world of the living.
